#but for the purposes of the point I'm making here that doesn't count

[porty]

hotties reunion tour

lovestruck!oikawa x f!reader

summary: six years after oikawa left to argentina - he found out he’s going back to japan to play for the official team for the 2024 olympics. today he’s meeting with repsentives of the JVA, his new coach, and trainer(s) (efficiently through a zoom call). he’s excited to see his favorite snuggle pookiekins, iwaizumi. unexpectedly, he sees someone else too…

contents: fluff | time skip!oikawa | kawa is feeling things... I idk... I red string of fate trope | lowercase is intentional | someone help iwaizumi... | lmao kageyama mentioned

word count: 1.8k words

AN: iwaizumi loves LMFAO, he plays them often while working out. tbh he's thrilled because is is going to play them all the time and no one better not say a word to him. lalala is oikawa's favorite song and dedicating it to you.

masterlist | part 1

oikawa sighed, he didn't even start packing to go back to japan. he just got the news the day before and just wanted to soak it in. also, despite him agreeing to the offer in a matter of seconds. to the point the representatives of the jva jumped.

he wasn't nervous, no, but he just had a strange feeling. knowing iwa would be there was great. this is going to be fun, it’s going to be great, his one and only, his pookiekins. Going home for a while and a summer in paris, this is going to be good for him.

but he didn't tell his team. well, he was expected to play for japan, but he was accustomed to playing with these guys. to play with new people... oh god, playing with that bum kageyama. he rolled his eyes just thinking about that bowl cut germ coming up to him all like, “hi oikawa…” like the nerd he was...

what a sickening thought. he shook his head and started to set up his laptop for this zoom meeting, before iwaizumi starts to text the poor boy. he crossed his legs and propped his laptop. he found it strange that he had to be in this meeting two hours before he would have to leave for japan. when he asked iwaizumi, he only responded with: “don't ask me questions…” how rude of him… oikawa rested his hand on his cheek. he was like this for about two minutes, but to oikawa, timing really felt like 18 years and 7 kids later. he looked down at his string that was tied around his pinky, that dimmed pink string… he didn't know why he needed to look down at it. but his heart started to race. that strange feeling heightened, now feeling it in his chest and stomach.

at this point, it's been about 6 years since he last saw her, the girl that his string glowed for. he doesn't remember your face, but he knows you're beautiful. probably a great person too… oikawa sighed while rubbing his pinky. also strange, he hasn't thought about that night much. it would come and go in waves… with the dreaded ‘what if?’ a question came up. before he got completely lost in his thought process, his screen lit up and another person came into view.

tetsurou kuroo…

“glad you could make it, oikawa,” kuroo said, still distracted while letting in the others. “how you’ve been?”

oikawa's eyes widened, almost embarrassed to even speak. he just prayed to the heavens above that he wasn't caught thinking about some girl he is never going to see again. he cleared his throat and fisted his hands, “i'm doing well. how are you, cat boy?”

“pretending i didn't hear that last part, but i'm good.” kuroo smiled while peeking at his camera. “alright, everyone should be here shortly. but this meeting is for you to introduce your coaches and your athletic trainers. i will be here as a representative for the jva and for marketing purposes. hope you don't mind?”

oikawa shook his head, and kuroo continued, “alright, with that being said, i'll let everyone in.”

slowly, everyone started coming into the call. everyone was visible besides one square that was still blacked out and labeled ‘ln’. oikawa just stared at that small section of the screen while everyone was greeting each other and going on with their idle chatter. he tapped on his lap, his heart racing, he felt his face getting hot.

why is this happening? he wasn't feeling sick… what is he feeling right now?

before you know it, you turned your camera on and waved. it was you, the girl he saw all those years ago. the one that brought some life back to his string. poor oikawa just froze. he couldn't say anything. the only thing he could do was look at iwaizumi, just for iwaizumi to look away. which made oikawa bite the inside of his cheek really hard. oh iwaizumi, honey, you got a big storm coming when you pick oikawa up.

after a few seconds, you finally spoke. which made oikawa swoon. that soft tone he gets to hear again. remember, professionalism… “hi, sorry, i was trying to find a quiet place. the boys are in mid-practice right now. it’s a bit challenging getting away.” you chuckled.

“you’re fine, everyone just got here. we can get started.”

kuroo went down the line and introduced him to everyone, leaving iwaizumi and you last. this has to be set up by kuroo. he knows something that oikawa doesn’t, and right now he's feeling bothered by the cat boy. “well, you obviously know hajime iwaizumi. he will be one of the athletic trainers. this is also ln yn… she will be the other athletic trainer.” you just looked at him and smiled softly.

oh god, this is going to be rough. oikawa nearly exploded when you smiled at him. oikawa made the dumbest mistake and looked down at that damn pinky, and that glow came back. that healthy red glow was present.

the butterflies were making him want to throw up. all he could do was smile and nod, “hope we can get along…” he somehow managed to muster out. iwaizumi looked at oikawa and raised an eyebrow. he knew something was wrong, in which he let out a small sigh. but someone else picked up too, mr. tetsurou kuroo. he was expecting this meeting to have more flare to it. besides, it was just oikawa looking like he just saw a ghost.

this meeting was not going as planned… one of their star players just seemed off. kind of annoyed kuroo. how is he supposed to work if this guy is giving them nothing? “so oikawa, when are you leaving for japan?” one of the coaches asked, breaking the silence and oikawa’s 17th crash-out.

“in a couple of hours actually, my ride should be here soon.”

“are you excited to come back home?” you spoke up, leaning. oh god, you are interested in what he has to say… fucking sick. but also aww…

“uh, yeah i am. i love it here in argentina, but i do miss home. i can see my friends again and work with one of them. plus, i know iwaizumi missed me, like a lot.” he said, a little nervously. which was odd. he knew how to talk to girls… but you… you were different. you nodded attentively while letting out a soft giggle. oikawa didn't know how much he could handle this. he's going to throw up and possibly do a backflip at the same time if you say one more thing to him. you're a horrible person for doing this to him.

then iwaizumi finally spoke, “i don't actually…”

kuroo laughed along with everyone. damn that stupid cat. “well, it’ll be nice seeing the two of you in action,” kuroo added. “speaking of, have you and yn thought about how the two of you are going to handle this? this is a big group.”

iwaizumi nodded, “yeah, we’re just going to do everything together. it’ll lessen the confusion with the coaches and, more importantly, the players.”

that wasn't a question for oikawa, so he just drifted into his thoughts. to avoid looking at his pinky, he subconsciously looked at you in that tiny square in the corner of his laptop, pretty sure he thought he looked inconspicuous. you spoke up once again, “fortunately, most of the players have either played on the same team or played against each other at one point in their lives, so it wouldn't really make sense to do this separately. we will have our breaks, but we just want to make sure the boys are in tip-top shape and obviously come back with something.”

at this point, oikawa just wanted to rip his hair out. he needed a way out. from the corner of his eye, his string was glowing. the butterflies in his chest and stomach were going crazy, too much blood was rushing to his head, and his cheeks were turning red. he couldn't breathe. he needed to go. he raised his hand and spoke quickly, “um hi so my ride is here… sorry but i have to go now.”

thankfully, everyone understood. they all said their goodbyes, not that oikawa was taking in what they said. until he heard you, “can't wait to work with you, oikawa. have a safe trip.”

“bye…” he spat out while quickly trying to leave the call. he slammed his laptop shut and shoved it in his bag. while booking for his uber, he couldn't help himself but to pant… he's panting like he just ran a half marathon. he wasn't panicking. or maybe he was, but this was a bad panic. but he was panicking. everything just felt so confusing. he’s about a day away from seeing the potential love of his life and he needs to get it together.

ding!

oikawa looked at his phone and saw his notification:

your driver is coming in 2 minutes.

oh god. the poor thing felt his heart drop. it’s time. he was going to japan and had to face the girl… just the girl. his everything? he does not even think about the olympics nor his friends. he was going to meet his inevitable doom: being rejected by the girl that made his string glow. not once, but twice. while grabbing his things and heading outside, the stupid butterflies came back. he didn't know if he was excited or shitting his pants. whatever it was… it needed to stop.

“this is a work trip… remember professionalism… professionalism.” oikawa kept mumbling to himself. praying it would work… and it wasn't, but he’s still going to do it.

mission abort!!! mission abort!!! it’s not working!!!

oikawa just stood there waiting for his taxi and was just smiling to himself. it was a smile of bliss. no, unfortunately, his smile was defeat. he didn't know what else to do. better yet, how else to compose himself. so he just smiled, regretting saying yes to this opportunity of a lifetime. he shut his eyes for a few moments. hoping that his guardian angel will just swoop him up… his guardian angel that was in the yellow car aggressively honking his horn…

nope. it was just his uber driver rushing to get in… a fate worse than death itself.

he got in his taxi. he’s off to japan. he’s off to see you and be around you for like the next six months. he for sure will throw up at one point, so he should apologize to you in advance.

oh and also, iwaizumi is going to hear his mouth. that stupid gym rat… and that cat boy too… throw it in there, that germ kageyama… but mainly iwaizumi.

divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

@porty || do not plagiarise or translate any of my work. I do not own any of the Haikyuu characters all rights goes to Haruichi Furudate.

[hephaestuscrew]

It's so emotionally powerful to me that we don't hear any interactions between Minkowski and Eiffel in the finale between the scene when she tries to send him back on the Sol and the scene where she witnesses him losing his memories. That's more than an hour in the middle of the finale with no direct interaction between these two central characters whose dynamic is a core element of the show. For me, this makes both of those dramatic scenes even more moving, because they feel juxtaposed in a way they might not otherwise be if there was a Minkowski & Eiffel interaction inbetween them.

As the Sol prepares to launch, Minkowski tells Eiffel goodbye and she knows it could be the last time she speaks to him. She thinks she might never see him again, but at least he'll be safe. She thinks he might never forgive her for that choice, but at least he will have made it through this.

But his stubborn desperation to fight alongside the rest of the crew defies all her plans to protect him. And the next time she speaks to him - after she's been shot in the stomach during her attempts to reach him, after she's continued to look for him even as she's bleeding out - he is injured in a way she would never have expected. When she first sees him hooked up to Pryce's machine, maybe she thinks for a moment that he's unharmed, that they might all make it through this the way she hoped. Then she learns that his memories are already slipping away from him.

There's her desperate attempt to protect him at all costs, and then there's a life-altering harm that she couldn't protect him from, which she witnesses. Between these two moments, there aren't any scenes with both characters in together to bridge that gap. There's Eiffel yelling "Goddammit, Renée, DON'T DO THIS!", and then there's him telling her "It was an honor to serve under you, Sir." There's him pleading with her and then there's him forgiving her. There's Minkowski saying "Go home, Eiffel. Hug your daughter.[...] Goodbye, Doug.", and there's the desperate heartbroken way she says Eiffel's name after the memory wipe has gone through. There's two very different kinds of goodbyes.

And then, afterwards, there's two very different kinds of introductions.

[arundolyn]

man. whenever i see someone discussing it/talking about liking it i feel myself Wanting to like. respect? extreme horror as a genre. more than i do. and i think my problem boils down to like. some of the places these things go.. you need to be a damn good writer, and you kinda need to make it have a Point or a Reason at least somewhat. you gotta be able to suspend your disbelief. that doesn't go any different for any flavor of horror than any other type of nonfiction writing tbh and in my opinion is generally harder to pull off. what happens does, in context, need to at least kinda sorta make a little bit of sense in some way and not be happening Just Because. and because of the rarity and stigma of extreme horror its less likely to qualify well for either of the above and just ends up attracting people who want to write some Really out there shit and get upset when they get justified critique from readers (usually people who bought their book and Enjoy extreme horror!) and always want to couch it like they're being oppressed for Writing which is a super disingenuous way to put it

[jupiterpilgrim]

Tropic Getaway

Hanni x Danielle x Minji x male reader

word count: 20k

The downstairs study lounge is just heavy.

It was supposed to be another night of studying, but, along the way, things went wrong. Or rather, they went wrong. Now papers and books are just everywhere, a mess of good intentions gone bad. Danielle's basically become one with the couch, kinda slumped over, doomscrolling on her phone or just staring blankly at the ceiling, looking totally over it. Opposite her, Minji is full-on face-down in her textbook on the table, like she's trying to absorb the knowledge through her forehead or just taking a very still, very desperate nap. And then there's Hanni, loaded with restless energy, pacing back and forth across the worn-out carpet, basically the only thing moving in the whole room besides Danielle’s thumb.

It doesn't take a genius to know that the keyword of the day is burnout.

"I can't," Minji mumbles, words muffled by the textbook cover. "I physically cannot read another sentence about market equilibrium. My brain has turned into actual sludge."

Danielle lets out a noise that is halfway between a laugh and a groan. "Tell me about it. I spend six hours debugging that stupid short film edit for the Media Club showcase. Six. Hours. Just to fix a two-second audio sync issue." She tosses her phone onto the cushion beside her. "My eyes feel like they're full of sand, I feel like I'm going to spontaneously combust at any moment." She stretches, her joints popping audibly. "Spring break can't come fast enough. Seriously. If I don't get out of here, away from deadlines and group projects and early morning lectures, I'm going to short-circuit."

Hanni stops pacing and leans against the wall, crossing her arms. "Okay, so we're all in agreement. We're burnt the fuck out." Her gaze sweeps over her friends. "Which means we need this break. Like, medically need it. Forget staying here and 'catching up on sleep' or whatever bullshit people pretend they're going to do. We need an escape. A real one."

Minji pushes the textbook away with a sigh. "Okay, fine. Escape. Where?" She slumps back in her chair. "My parents suggest I come home. Help them clean out the garage." The look on her face makes it clear this is less appealing than facing 'market equilibrium’.

"Garage cleaning? Yeah, hard pass," Danielle says. "My mom wants me to visit my aunt in the countryside. Which, you know, love my aunt, but her idea of excitement is watching cows graze."

Hanni makes a face. "Okay, those are both nightmare fuel options. We need... sunshine. Something completely different." She pushes off the wall, starting to pace again, but this time with more purpose. "Think. No parental obligations, no academic pressure, no weird relatives. Just... decompression." She snaps her fingers. "Europe?"

Danielle considers it, tilting her head. "Europe's cool... but doesn't that feel like... a lot of effort right now? All the sightseeing, the museums, the walking... My feet already hurt just thinking about it. And figuring out trains and hostels while my brain is fried? I don't know."

"Yeah, Dani's got a point," Minji chimes in, pulling her legs up onto her chair. "I love the idea of Paris or Rome, but I think I need somewhere I can just... shut down. Like, minimal brain activity required. Maximum relaxation."

"Okay, okay, fair," Hanni concedes. "Effort is bad. Brain activity is bad." She pauses, tapping a finger against her chin. "How about a paradise place? Like, Mexico? Cancun?"

"Spring break in Cancun?" Danielle wrinkles her nose. "Isn't that just... wall-to-wall drunk frat guys trying to get you to do body shots? Feels like trading one kind of stress for another. A louder, potentially stickier kind."

Minji nods vigorously. "Definitely not the vibe. I want peace, Dani wants low-effort, I want... heat. Real heat. Not this pathetic excuse for spring weather we're having."

Hanni stops pacing again, a slow smile spreading across her face. It starts small, just a twitch at the corner of her lips, but grows as the idea takes hold. "Okay. Heat. Low effort. No frat guys, or at least, easily avoidable ones. Maximum relaxation." Her eyes light up. "What about the Caribbean?"

Silence falls for a moment as the image settles in their minds. Crystal clear turquoise water. White sand beaches. Palm trees swaying gently. Colorful drinks with little umbrellas. No textbooks. No editing suites. No Professors.

Danielle sits up straighter, the listlessness fading from her expression. "Okay... Caribbean. Like... where?"

"Doesn't even matter, does it?" Minji asks. "Barbados, St. Lucia, Turks and Caicos... They're all beaches and sun and rum punch, right?"

"Exactly!" Hanni grins, walking over and perching on the edge of the table near Minji. "Pick an island, any island. Somewhere with stupidly blue water, amazing food, maybe some snorkeling or just lying on the beach like lizards, soaking up the sun until our brains reset." She pulls out her own phone, fingers already flying across the screen. "There’s gotta be some great resorts over there."

Danielle picks her phone back up from the cushion. "Okay, I'm looking up flights. Let's see... non-stop options preferred, obviously."

Minji leans over Hanni's shoulder, peering at her screen. "Look at that resort... Jesus, that pool looks insane. Is that a swim-up bar? We could spend an entire day just migrating from the beach chair to the pool chair to the swim-up bar stool.”

"It looks... luxuriously expensive, Han," Minji says.

"Oh, yeah, sure, focus on reality! Let's see what we found on Airbnb."

And just like that the miserable study lounge totally disappears. Forget the textbooks, forget the debugging nightmares, forget the professors. Minji, Danielle, and Hanni are heads-down, phones out, completely lost in scrolling through pictures of ridiculously blue water and white sandy beaches. For these few minutes, market equilibrium and audio sync issues are ancient history. It's all about infinity pools, debating the merits of St. Lucia versus Barbados, and imagining days spent doing absolutely nothing but soaking up the sun until their brains finally feel less like scrambled eggs. School's out—mentally, at least—and the Caribbean dream is officially in.

—

You’re pacing the cramped little room—your dorm, technically, though it’s more of a closet with a bed and a desk shoved against the wall—waiting for her, trying to control a little the nervousness that always appears when you know she's coming. It’s not full-on nerves, just this antsy buzz under your skin, like you’re jonesing for a fix, and in a way, you are. Hanni’s been your hookup for months now, this casual thing that’s not really casual anymore, not with how bad you want her every time she’s near, and with her blatant possessiveness over you—not that you're complaining. The clock ticks past 4 p.m., and you’re wiping your palms on your jeans when the door swings open; no knock, no warning, just her. Hanni steps in, and fuck, she’s a knockout, same as always.

She’s got a college girl vibe dialed up, rocking this tiny plaid skirt, barely long enough to count as clothing, hugging her hips and showing off those legs—thick, smooth, the kind you wanna sink your teeth into. Her top’s a cropped hoodie, loose enough to flash a strip of her stomach when she moves. Her bangs are just adorable, a contrast to the look she's giving you.

Hanni doesn’t even say hi, just drops her bag by the door, crosses the three steps it takes to reach you, and crashes her mouth into yours. It’s hungry, sloppy, her lips soft, tasting faintly of cherry lip balm and whatever Monster she chugged on the way over. Her hands are already fisting your shirt, tugging you back toward the desk chair while she mutters against your teeth, “We gotta be quick—gotta meet the girls in, like, twenty.” You’re too busy kissing her back to argue, letting her pull you down into the seat, your hands sliding up her thighs, feeling the heat radiating off her skin.

She’s got you pinned there, straddling your lap before you can blink, and she’s yanking at your belt, fingers fumbling but determined. “Fuck, c’mon,” she huffs, and you help her out, unbuttoning your jeans, shoving them down just enough to free your cock, already hard, because how could it not be with her like this? She hikes her skirt up, flashing these lacy black panties she doesn’t even bother taking off—just shoves them to the side, and you catch a glimpse of how soaked she is, glistening in the dorm light.

Then she’s on you, sinking down slow at first, and you both let out this ragged, “Ohhh,” like you’ve been holding your breath for it all day. Her pussy’s tight, warm, so wet it’s obscene, and she’s clenching around you before she even starts moving. She leans in, breath hot against your ear, muttering, “Goddamn, I’ve been horny as shit all day—couldn’t stop thinking about this.” You groan, hands gripping her hips, feeling the way her skirt bunches up higher as she starts rocking against you. It’s fast, messy, her bouncing on your lap, the chair creaking under you like it’s about to give up.

Her tits are pressed against your chest, hoodie riding up, and you slide your hands under it, palming her through her bra, feeling her nipples harden under your thumbs. She’s panting, little gasps breaking up her words, “Can’t believe this is the last time ‘til—fuck—spring break. Gonna miss this dick so bad.” You thrust up into her, meeting her halfway, and she yelps, nails digging into your shoulders. “What you doing for break?” she asks, voice hitching as she grinds down hard, taking you deeper.

You’re trying to focus, but it’s a losing battle with her pussy squeezing you like that, slick and hot, dragging you to the edge already. “Dunno,” you manage, “haven’t figured it out yet—what about you?” She’s bouncing faster now, thighs flexing, skirt flapping, and she tosses her head back, laughing through a moan. “Me, Minji, Danielle—we’re fuckin’ off to St Lucia. Beaches, booze, everything we could ask for. Gonna be dope.” Her words are punctuated by the slap of her skin against yours, wet and loud in the tiny room, and you grin, thrusting harder just to hear her gasp again. “St Lucia? That’s sick,” you say, and she nods, eyes half-lidded, lips parted as she rides you. “Yeah, right? No classes, no campus—just us and some random-ass fun.” She clenches around you on purpose, smirking when you groan, and adds, “What you gonna do without me, huh? Jerk off to my texts all week?” You laugh, hands sliding to her ass, squeezing hard enough to leave marks. “Maybe. Gonna miss this—fucking you here, sneaking around. Best stress relief I’ve got.”

She’s grinning too, but it’s wobbly now, her rhythm faltering as she gets closer—you can feel it in how she’s tightening up, her breaths turning into these needy little whines. “Same,” she says, voice softer for a sec, almost sweet, before she catches herself and slams down harder, chasing it. “Fuck! I’m gonna miss this—your cock, this room, all of it.” The chair’s scraping the floor now, probably pissing off whoever’s below you, but you don’t care, she’s riding you like it’s the last time, and maybe it is for a while. Her skirt’s a crumpled mess around her waist, panties stretched to the side, and her hoodie’s slipping off one shoulder, giving you a peek at the sweat beading on her collarbone. You’re both loud—grunts, moans, the occasional “shit” or “fuck” slipping out between whatever half-assed conversation you’re trying to have. She’s soaked, dripping down your thighs, and you’re so close you can barely think straight, just thrusting up into her, letting her take what she wants.

“Fuck, Hanni,” you groan, “cum on my dick—c’mon, I wanna feel it.” She whines, head tipping back, and her bounces get sloppier, harder, the chair squeaking like it’s about to snap. Her moans kick up a notch, too loud, way too loud for this thin-walled dump, and you hiss, “Shit, keep it down, someone’s gonna hear us.” She gasps, tries to stifle it, but it’s no use. “I—I can’t, fuck, it’s too good,” she stammers, and then she’s done holding back—she slams down one more time, hard, and chokes out, “I’m gonna cum, oh fuck, I’m cumming!”

Her pussy clamps down on you like a vice, pulsing hot and wet, and she’s bouncing fast now, riding out the wave, her thighs trembling against your hips. You can feel her shaking, her whole body seizing up as she cums, a shudder ripping through her that makes her gasp and whimper your name—soft at first, then loud again, like she can’t help it. You pull her down, crash your mouth into hers, kissing her deep, swallowing those sounds as she grinds through it. Her lips are slick, desperate, and you break off just long enough to mutter, “You’re so fucking hot… Jesus, Hanni,” before diving back in, biting her bottom lip hard enough to make her hiss. She’s still twitching around you, aftershocks making her shudder, and then she slides off, slow, leaving you aching and hard, your cock slick with her. She drops to her knees between your legs, no hesitation, wrapping her fingers around you; small hands, chipped red nails, and gives you a couple lazy strokes.

“Gimme your cum,” she says, and then she’s on you, mouth closing over the tip, sucking hard. Her tongue flicks the underside, wet and warm, and she’s staring up at you, dark eyes locked on yours, unblinking, fucking devastating. It’s too much, the way she hollows her cheeks, bobs her head, hand twisting at the base while her lips slide down further, taking you deep. “C’mon,” she mumbles around you, muffled, “want it so bad—give it to me.” You’re gone, head tipping back against the chair, groaning low in your throat as she works you, relentless, slurping loud enough to make your face heat up. Her free hand’s on your thigh, nails digging in, and she’s begging with her eyes, her mouth, not stopping ‘til you’re right there. You feel it hit, this tight, hot rush, and you cum hard—ropes of it, thick and messy, spilling into her mouth. She doesn’t pull off, just takes it, swallowing as you go, and you mutter, “Fuck, I love watching you swallow me like this,” She pops off, licks her lips slow, deliberate, and grins. “Love the taste—salty, you, all of it,” she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand like it’s nothing.

You two don't waste any time, you’re tugging your jeans up, she’s smoothing her skirt down, but her panties are still crooked, and she doesn’t bother fixing them. Hanni climbs back onto your lap, not to fuck again, just to sit there, legs dangling over yours, catching her breath. It’s quiet for a sec, just the hum of the mini fridge in the corner, and then she leans her head against your shoulder, hair tickling your neck. “Thanks, y’know,” she says, soft, almost shy for once. “You’ve been a fucking lifesaver these past few months—keeping me sane after all the college bullshit.”

You wrap an arm around her, lazy, resting your hand on her hip. “Same here. You’re the only thing that’s kept me from losing my mind some days.” She laughs, quiet, nudging you with her elbow. “We're an eccentric duo, huh? But it works.” You nod, staring at the ceiling, feeling her warmth seep into you, this weird, comfortable closeness that’s snuck up on you both.

She shifts, sits up straighter, and you think she’s about to bounce out the door, she’s got that meeting with the girls soon, but she turns to you instead, skirt riding up again, flashing the edge of those wrecked panties. “So, what d’you think of the Caribbean?” She ask.

You shrug, still fuzzy from the orgasm, wiping a hand over your face. “Looks dope—beaches, food, all that. Why?” She grins and leans in close. “Come with us. Me, Danielle, Minji—we’re going, and you’d be great company. Keep things lively.” You blink, caught off guard, brain still half-fried. “Wait, what? You serious?” She nods, biting her lip, and it’s not just a throwaway invite, she’s deadass. “Yeah, dude. You’re fun as hell, and, I mean…” She trails off, smirks, lets the implication hang there. You picture it: Hanni, Danielle, Minji, you stuck in the middle of that trio, St Lucia sun beating down. It’s insane, but it’s perfect, too good to pass up. “Fuck it, I’m in,” you say, grinning back, and she lights up—full-on Hanni energy, clapping her hands once, loud. “Hell yeah! I’ll tell the girls—gonna text you details later. This is gonna be epic.” She hops off your lap, grabs her bag, but not before leaning down to kiss you quick. Then she’s out the door, skirt swishing, leaving you dazed and already counting down the days.

—

The cheap tequila is doing its job, loosening tension. The girls are crammed into a booth at the pub near the college. They ditched the library hours ago for lime wedges, salt, and rounds of golden liquor. The pub’s loud playlist thumps overhead, a backdrop to the chatter and clinking glasses. Empty shot glasses clutter the table between them, next to a rapidly disappearing basket of fries.

Minji leans back against the cracked vinyl booth seat, laughing loudly at something Danielle said, her cheeks flushed. Danielle leans forward over the table, an easy grin on her face, kicking a foot rhythmically against the booth base. Hanni leans back against the cushions, swirling the remaining tequila in her glass, watching her friends with warm, fuzzy fondness.

The relief is notorious: the trip is booked, flights confirmed, Airbnb secured. This weekend celebration feels earned, necessary. They've survived the academic trenches, and paradise awaits. Their corner of the pub hums with shared excitement as they shout slightly over the music, debating outfits, sunscreen SPFs, and foods to try when they arrived in St. Lucia.

Hanni takes another sip, the tequila warming her, making her feel bold. She needs this courage because, well, she has already invited you on the trip. Now she just has to pluck up the nerve to tell Minji and Danielle.

Mentally, she justifies it: The whole point of the trip is maximum relaxation, right? And she knows exactly who excels at top-tier stress relief. You. Just thinking about you, the heat that always sparks between you even during boring club meetings, sends a familiar warmth coiling through her, entirely separate from the tequila.

The hookups are casual, intense, and usually kept separate from her friendships, but the Caribbean feels like the perfect place to... integrate resources. Maximum relaxation needs maximum release, and honestly, no one delivers quite like you do. Your confidence, the way you look at her, how thorough you are... Yeah, a '10/10 wienering,' her brain helpfully supplies.

So, inviting you isn't selfish, she insists to herself. It's practical. A vital contribution to the mission objective: total fucking decompression. Now, to break the news…

"So," Hanni begins, setting her glass down on the sticky table with deliberate care, cutting through Minji's detailed description of the perfect beach towel. Both Danielle and Minji pause, turning their slightly glazed eyes towards her over the rims of their own glasses. "Speaking of... maximizing relaxation..." She lets the phrase hang there for a second, enjoying the tiny flicker of confusion on their faces. "I might have, uh... extended the invitation. To one more person."

Minji frowns slightly, leaning forward. "Wait, what? I think we agree... just us? Girls' trip? No distractions?"

Hanni waves a dismissive hand, trying to project breezy confidence over the pub noise. "Totally still a girls' trip! Mostly. But, like, think of this as... adding a vital resource. For stress management." She grins, letting a little of the mischief leak through. "I have invited him." She doesn't even need to say your name. The way she says 'him', the slight emphasis, the context, it hangs there in the noisy air.

Silence descends just between them. Danielle and Minji exchange a look across the table, a rapid-fire communication passing between them that Hanni can't quite decipher through her own buzz. She sees the gears turning, the slow dawning of comprehension. You. The guy from the Innovation Club. The one who sometimes joins their club when Hanni is there, the one Hanni occasionally disappears with after club meetings or social events, returning later looking flushed and rumpled but ridiculously happy. The one they maybe tease her about once or twice, getting only evasive smiles in return.

Danielle is the first to break the silence, her initial confusion melting into something else; curiosity, maybe even amusement. "Wait. Him him? From the club? The one with the..." She tilts her head, searching for a non-crude descriptor, "...charming smile?" A slow smirk spreads across her face. "Okay. Interesting. Very... resourceful, Hanni." She remembers those times Hanni texts vague excuses about 'running late' or 'working on the project' only to show up an hour later practically glowing, her hair slightly messy, biting back a smile. She recalls catching Hanni sneaking back into the dorm super early one morning after supposedly pulling an all-nighter at the Study Room, looking less exhausted and more thoroughly satisfied.

Suddenly, Hanni's 'stress management' comment clicks into sharp, vivid focus. "So that's where you disappear to," Danielle teases, leaning forward conspiratorially across the table. "Gotta admit, I always figure there is something going on there. You get this specific... smug look after you've supposedly been 'collaborating'." She laughs. "Okay, you know what? I'm not mad. He's hot, not gonna lie. And if he's gonna be focused on... de-stressing you… Maybe the ambient heat will benefit us all? Like relaxation by proxy?"

Minji is slower to come around, her expression more guarded. She takes another sip of her drink, considering. "Hold on," she says, her voice needing to rise slightly above the pub noise. "So, the plan is just us. Relaxing. Peace and quiet." She looks at Hanni across the table. "And now you've invited... your hookup? Doesn't that complicate things? What if it gets weird?" She remembers Hanni's occasional zoned-out bliss, the dreamy sighs after checking her phone, the sudden bursts of inexplicable euphoria. It makes sense now, annoyingly so. You are clearly effective. Still, the logistics... "It is supposed to be our escape, Han."

"It still is!" Hanni insists. "Think about it! He's super chill, you know he is. He helped us debug that presentation software last semester, remember? He's not gonna be some annoying dude trying to take over. He can handle himself. And yeah, okay, fine. He's... exceptionally good at the stress relief part. Like, really good. Which means I'll be less stressed, more relaxed, and way more fun to be around." She looks between them. "Isn't that contributing to the overall vibe? Plus," she adds, playing her trump card, "he has already booked his flight. Non-refundable."

That last part is a lie, but it sounds convincing.

Minji chews on her lip. Danielle is already nodding along, seemingly sold on the 'ambient heat' theory and your general attractiveness. Minji sighs, swirling her drink on the table. She can't deny Hanni's logic entirely. A happy, thoroughly de-stressed Hanni is definitely preferable. And she has to admit, you aren't hard on the eyes, and you've always been perfectly nice, even helpful, during those club interactions. Not the typical frat-bro type Danielle fears finding in Cancun. Maybe... maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe Danielle is right, maybe there are fringe benefits. A little extra eye candy, a different dynamic... It isn't the original plan, but the tequila is making her feel more flexible. "Fine," Minji concedes, trying to sound practical rather than intrigued, though a tiny smile plays on her lips despite herself. "Fine, he can come. But logistics. The Airbnb only has three bedrooms. So, just to be clear, he's rooming with you. No arguments."

Hanni beams, relief washing over her. "Obviously! Wouldn't have it any other way." She winks, picking up her shot glass from the table again. "See? Perfect plan. Maximum relaxation guaranteed. For everyone." She raises her glass. "To the Caribbean! And... vital resources."

Danielle laughs, clinking her glass against Hanni's across the table. "To vital resources!"

Minji sighs but clinks her glass too. "To not having to hear Hanni complain about being stressed, I guess." The noise of the pub, the tequila, the sheer giddy prospect of the trip, now with an unexpected, potentially spicy addition, settles over them, pushing aside the last vestiges of resistance. The 'girls' trip' has just taken a detour, and nobody seems truly upset about it anymore.

—

Spring break finally hits, washing away the hell that was midterms, late-night cramming, weeks of caffeine-fueled meltdowns, profs who clearly don't give a fuck and the club’s endless deadlines. It’s been a brutal stretch, but now it’s over, and the relief is practically physical.

Hanni’s been blowing up your phone since the invite, hyping this Caribbean trip like crazy, and you’re just as hyped, buzzing to ditch the gray campus grind for some actual sun. The girls have been prepping hard—Hanni sending packing pics—half her suitcase is bikinis and crop tops— Danielle dropping Insta stories of her shopping for “tropical fits,” and Minji being the quiet, practical one, texting Hanni about flight times and visa stuff like the group's unofficial mom.

You don’t actually see them ‘til the airport, though. When you roll up with your beat-up duffel slung over your shoulder, Hanni spots you first, sprinting across the terminal like she’s mainlining sugar, slamming into you with a hug that almost takes you out. “You made it!” she yells, arms locked around your neck, totally beaming. Her bangs bounces as she pulls back to look at you, eyes sparkling.

You return the hug. "Wouldn't miss it. Someone's gotta help manage all that stress, right?" You give her a squeeze before gently disentangling yourself enough to greet the others, though Hanni immediately links her arm through yours, leaning against your side possessively. Minji offers a small, polite smile, still looking a little tired but definitely less stressed than the last time you saw her surrounded by textbooks. "Hey," she says, adjusting the strap of her carry-on. "Glad you could make it. Try not to lose Hanni before we even board."

Then your eyes land on Danielle, and you do a slight double-take. Gone are the usual worn-out jeans and practical hoodie she practically lived in during that last disastrous Media Club budget meeting where you helped by analyzing some spreadsheets and trying to bring some light even though you are not a member. Instead, she’s wearing a long, flowing maxi dress alive with bright tropical flowers, paired with strappy sandals totally impractical for airport trekking but perfect for the destination. It catches the eye amidst the drab airport surroundings, making her look relaxed, almost like a different person. She grins, giving the flowy dress a little swish. "What do you think?" she asks, striking a mock pose. "Vacation Dani. Decided jeans are not the vibe for palm trees.”

"It looks awesome, Dani. Seriously suits you. Vacation Dani is gonna kill it." Her grin widens. "Thanks! That's the plan." Hanni tugs at your arm, reclaiming your attention. "Okay, okay, compliments later. Bags need dropping, security needs conquering, tropical drinks need acquiring." She practically drags you towards the check-in line, keeping up a running commentary about the questionable fashion choices of fellow passengers and her detailed plans for claiming the best beach chair upon arrival.

The check-in and security process is the usual purgatory of modern travel: shuffling lines, unpacking electronics, the mild humiliation of the full-body scanner, but the shared anticipation keeps spirits relatively high. Even Minji seems to be loosening up, pointing out a ridiculously oversized inflatable flamingo someone is trying to argue is a valid carry-on item. Danielle and Hanni dissolve into giggles. Finally, you're through, settling into the slightly less chaotic departure gate area. Hanni immediately claims the seat next to you, her thigh pressed against yours, occasionally resting her head on your shoulder while scrolling through pictures of St. Lucia on her phone, narrating potential activities. Danielle and Minji chat opposite you, Danielle already scouting the duty-free shops for bargain sunglasses. The flight itself is uneventful; cramped seats, a mediocre movie you watch half-heartedly with shared earbuds with Hanni, the strange sensation of hurtling through the sky miles above the earth. Hanni dozes off for a bit, her head heavy on your shoulder, soft breaths puffing against your neck. You look out the small window, watching the clouds drift below, the feeling of escape slowly starting to sink in.

Landing in St. Lucia is like stepping into a different world. The moment the plane doors hiss open, you're hit by a wall of warm, humid air thick with the scent of salt, tropical flowers, and something earthy and unfamiliar. It's a welcome shock after the recycled, chilled air of the plane and the lingering damp chill of back home. Sunlight streams through the airport windows, brighter and more intense than you're used to. The sounds are different too, the rhythm of Creole chatter, distant reggae music, birds calling outside. Everyone's skin seems kissed by the sun. Danielle practically skips down the air stairs, tilting her face up to the sun. Minji takes a deep breath. Hanni squeezes your hand, her eyes wide with wonder. "Okay, yeah," she breathes. "This was a good idea."

Clearing customs and grabbing your luggage feels less like a chore and more like the final hurdle before freedom. You pile into a slightly battered taxi van, the driver greeting you with a warm smile and launching into recommendations for local food spots. The drive to the Airbnb is a vibrant assault on the senses, winding roads curving through lush green hillsides dotted with brightly painted houses, glimpses of impossibly turquoise water flashing between palm trees, roadside fruit stands overflowing with colourful produce. The air rushing through the open windows carries the soundtrack of the island: laughter, music, an occasional bleating goat.

The Airbnb turns out to be pretty damn good. It's a spacious villa tucked away on a hillside, painted a cheerful coral colour. Inside, cool tile floors offer relief from the heat. There's a decent-sized living area with comfy-looking furniture, a functional kitchen, and best of all, a wide balcony overlooking a stretch of jungle that slopes down towards a distant slice of blue ocean. It might not be the five-star luxury of some resorts, but it feels authentic, private, and definitely relaxing. There are indeed three bedrooms, as planned. Danielle and Minji quickly claim the two smaller ones, leaving the largest, the one with the slightly better view from its window, for you and Hanni. Bags are dropped unceremoniously, shoes kicked off. The initial adrenaline rush of arrival starts to fade, replaced by the bone-deep weariness of travel.

Danielle yawns hugely, collapsing onto one of the sofas. "Okay, naptime," she declares. "My brain is officially offline until further notice." Minji nods in agreement, already heading towards her room. "Wake me if there's food. Or never." You follow Hanni into your designated room. It's simple but clean, with a big queen-sized bed dominating the space. Hanni wastes no time, unbuttoning her pants and taking them off hurriedly, rummaging through her bag until she finally finds her comfortable shorts and puts them on, then she flops face-down onto the mattress with a groan of pure exhaustion. "Bed," she mumbles into the comforter. "Sweet, stationary bed." You drop your bag and stretch, feeling the kinks in your back from the long flight. Kicking off your own shoes, you lie down on the bed next to her, the coolness of the sheets a small blessing. The sounds of the island drift in through the open window; cicadas buzzing, distant surf, unfamiliar bird calls.

It's peaceful, a world away from campus life.

Hanni rolls over to face you, propping her head up on her hand. Even exhausted, her eyes are sparkling. "So," she whispers. "Excited to be here? Finally?" You smile back, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Definitely. Place is amazing. You picked well." Her smile widens. "We picked well," she corrects, then scoots a little closer. "And... you know Dani thinks you're hot, right? She literally said it when we were drunk in the pub talking about bringing you here. And Minji... she was trying to play it cool, but I saw her checking you out at the gate." A familiar warmth sparks in your belly despite the fatigue. Hanni's eyes flick down to your lips for a second, then back up. "Just... possibilities, you know? For maximizing the stress relief." Her fingers trace a light pattern on your arm.

You lean in slightly. "And you'd be okay with... sharing the stress relief?"

Her gaze holds yours. "As long as I get first dibs," she murmurs, her lips brushing yours for a fleeting moment. "And second dibs. And probably thirds. And as long as I get to join in whenever I feel like it." She yawns then, a wide, jaw-cracking yawn that breaks the spell slightly. "But mostly," she adds, her eyes fluttering closed, "right now I need sleep." You chuckle, pulling the light sheet over both of you. "Sleep sounds good." The exhaustion finally wins, pulling you both down into the welcome darkness, the teasing possibilities left hanging, waiting for the Caribbean sun and rested bodies to bring them to life.

—

The first thing you register is warmth, a comfortable weight pressing down on your chest, and the soft, rhythmic sound of breathing near your ear. You crack open an eye, the afternoon sun filtering through the slats of the blinds, painting stripes of gold across the simple room. Your body feels amazing: deeply rested, completely unwound from the cramped flight and the lingering stress of campus life. The nap wasn't just a nap; it was a full system reboot. Beneath you, the mattress feels solid, stationary, a welcome contrast to the hours spent hurtling through the sky. You shift slightly, and the weight on you stirs. Hanni mumbles something incoherent into your t-shirt, nuzzling closer like a cat seeking heat. Her dark hair tickles your chin, smelling faintly of coconut shampoo and airplane air. One of her legs is hooked over yours, her arm slung possessively across your ribs. Even in sleep, she’s staked her claim. You carefully lift a hand, gently brushing strands of hair away from her face. She looks peaceful, younger somehow without the usual spark of manic energy animating her features. The exhaustion is gone from her face too, replaced by the soft flush of deep sleep. It’s nice, seeing this quiet side of her, but a bigger part of you is already buzzing, eager to get out there and actually experience this place. St. Lucia is waiting just outside that window.

Hanni stirs again, blinking slowly. Her eyes focus on you, still clouded with sleep for a second before recognition dawns, followed swiftly by a lazy, satisfied smile that makes something warm curl in your stomach. "Mmm, morning," she murmurs. "Or... afternoon? Whatever. You feel comfy." She stretches languidly, her body arching against yours. The thin sheet barely conceals the curves you know are hiding underneath, curves she apparently might be willing to share later, according to her sleepy pre-nap proposition.

"Best nap ever," she adds, yawning wide. "Did I drool on you? Sorry if I drooled." You chuckle, shaking your head. "Nah, you're good. Slept like the dead." You gently nudge her. "But I think the island's calling. Pretty sure I heard a palm tree whispering my name." Hanni giggles, finally rolling off you, though she immediately props herself up on an elbow, her gaze tracing the line of your jaw. "Okay, okay, I'm up. Mostly." She swings her legs over the side of the bed, stretching again, this time showing off the curve of her spine and the slight swell of her hips in the sleep shorts.

"Food first? I think my stomach digested itself while we were out." You nod, already swinging your own legs out. "Food sounds essential. Then maybe figure out what Dani and Minji are up to." You glance towards your bag, thinking about clothes. The heat radiating from outside the window demands something light. You pull out a pair of comfortable shorts and a thin linen shirt, definitely more tropical than the jeans you flew in. As you start changing, Hanni rummages through her own bag, pulling out a brightly colored sundress. Underneath, you glimpse the strap of a bikini top. Seems everyone had the same idea about being beach-ready at a moment's notice. "Think they survived the nap?" Hanni asks, slipping the dress over her head. "Dani looked like she was about to hibernate for a week. And Minji... well, Minji always looks like she needs more sleep."

You find Danielle and Minji already in the living area, looking significantly more human than when you last saw them. Dani’s wearing denim shorts and a loose tank top, tapping away on her phone. Minji, dressed in light linen pants and a simple white top, is peering into the fridge. "Morning, sunshine," Danielle chirps without looking up. "Or, you know, afternoon sunshine. Find anything edible in there, Minj?" Minji shakes her head, closing the fridge door with a sigh. "Snacks from the flight and half a bottle of water. We definitely need provisions. Or, ideally, someone else making us breakfast." Hanni bounces into the room, radiating recovered energy. "Breakfast out! My treat. Consider it a 'thank you for letting me bring my favorite stress-reliever' brunch." She winks broadly at you, then loops her arm through yours again.

Danielle finally looks up, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "Oooh, a thank-you brunch? I accept. Especially if the stress-reliever is buying coffee." You laugh, raising your hands in mock surrender. "Coffee, food, whatever you guys want. Lead the way." Minji grabs her sunglasses from the table. "Okay, but somewhere with actual shade, please? My eyes are still adjusting to not staring at a screen."

Finding a breakfast spot isn't hard. You wander down the winding road from the villa, the casual pace feels alien after the usual campus rush. You end up at a small, open-air cafe overlooking a marina filled with bobbing sailboats. Brightly colored fishing boats chug past further out, leaving white wakes on the impossibly blue water. The vibe is incredibly chill. You order fresh juices, strong coffee, and plates piled high with eggs, local fruit, and something called 'bake'; a fried bread that's ridiculously tasty. Conversation flows easily, mostly rehashing the horrors of midterms now that they're safely in the rearview mirror, speculating about the expensive resort Hanni initially found, and Danielle telling—first time for you, thousandth time for the girls—the story of the day she bleached and cut her hair.

"Seriously," she says, gesturing emphatically with her fork, "the stylist kept saying 'are you sure?' like I was asking her to tattoo her name on my forehead. It's just hair! It grows back!"

Minji chuckles, sipping her mango juice. "That was an amazing transformation, Dani. Really. Very... un-academic." Hanni nods vigorously. "Totally! You looked like you belonged on that yacht over there." She points towards a sleek white vessel gliding into the marina. You lean back in your chair, sipping your coffee, just listening to them banter. It feels good, normal, surprisingly easy to just be here with them. Hanni keeps leaning into your space, her shoulder brushing yours, her hand occasionally finding yours under the table for a quick squeeze. It’s comfortable, familiar, but you also catch Danielle watching the interaction with open amusement, while Minji glances over occasionally with an expression that’s harder to read… maybe curiosity, maybe just observation.

After breakfast, fueled by caffeine and carbs, the consensus is to explore a bit before hitting the beach. You wander through the nearby town, a vibrant collection of pastel-painted buildings, bustling markets selling spices and woven baskets, and locals calling out friendly greetings. You duck into a few shops selling touristy trinkets, laughing at the ridiculous t-shirts. Danielle buys a pair of cheap, oversized sunglasses shaped like pineapples, declaring them essential for "Vacation Dani's aesthetic". Minji seems genuinely interested in a stall selling handmade jewelry, carefully examining delicate shell necklaces. Hanni drags you over to look at bright pareos, holding a turquoise one up against you. "This color would look amazing on you," she insists. "Matches your eyes... almost." You deflect, laughing, but the easy intimacy of the gesture isn't lost on you, or on the other two who watch with matching smiles.

You grab some bottles of water and eventually find yourselves near one of the island’s famous landmarks: the Pitons, two majestic volcanic peaks rising almost cinematically from the sea. You don't hike them, opting instead for a viewpoint that offers stunning panoramic views. The sheer scale of them is breathtaking, green slopes plunging down to the sparkling blue water. Naturally, this calls for photos. Danielle immediately takes charge, directing poses. "Okay, group shot! Squeeze in! Hanni, stop trying to climb onto his back." More laughter. You snap pictures of the girls with the Pitons as a backdrop, individual shots, selfies. Danielle insists on taking several of you and Hanni together, positioning you close, making Hanni wrap her arms around your waist from behind. "Perfect!" she declares, reviewing the shot on her phone. "Look how cute you two are. Disgustingly cute." Hanni beams, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder blade before pulling away. You feel a flush creep up your neck, partly from the heat, partly from the casual display in front of the others. Minji watches, leaning against the railing, sunglasses hiding her eyes, but the corner of her mouth is tilted up in a small smile.

Finally, the call of the ocean becomes too strong to ignore. You find a stretch of beach recommended by the cafe owner—a crescent of soft, pale sand fringed by swaying palm trees. It’s definitely popular; colorful umbrellas dot the sand, families splash in the shallows, and couples stroll along the water's edge. It's lively, but not overwhelmingly crowded like you feared Cancun might be. Music drifts from a nearby beach bar. This is exactly what everyone needed. Without much ceremony, the girls start shedding their outer layers. Hanni’s sundress comes off to reveal a vibrant orange bikini, the top simple triangles, the bottoms cut high on her hips, emphasizing their curve. She might be the shortest, but her body is compact and seriously juicy, and seeing those curves again, now in a new light, is refreshing; those slightly wide hips, the soft curve of her belly above the bikini bottom, all perfectly proportioned. She shakes her hair out, grinning at you cheekily.

Danielle ditches her shorts and tank top for a sleek black bikini. It’s more athletic in style, but holy shit. The top has intricate straps across the back, and the bottoms sit low, showcasing a defined abs that ripple as she moves. She’s leaner than Hanni, but all tight curves and toned muscle. She catches you looking and strikes another playful pose, hand on her hip. "Eyes up here, buddy," she teases, though her own gaze flickers down your torso for a split second.

Then Minji unfolds from her linen layers. Her choice is a deep emerald green two-piece. The top is minimalist, barely there, highlighting the elegant line of her collarbones and, yeah, confirming Hanni’s assessment—definitely small, a little bigger than Dani's, which you happen to appreciate. But the bottoms... they’re cut perfectly to showcase what is undeniably a spectacular ass. She’s taller than the others, with a thicker build, unpretentiously hot in a way that’s incredibly appealing. She turns to grab her towel, giving you an unimpeded view that makes your mouth go slightly dry.

Damn. The three of them together, bathed in the Caribbean sun, shedding the last vestiges of their student identities, are a fucking revelation.

Feeling the heat yourself, and suddenly very aware of being the only one still fully clothed, you pull your linen shirt off over your head, tossing it onto the growing pile of discarded clothes and towels. Hanni lets out an appreciative little hum. Danielle whistles softly. Minji just raises an eyebrow before she turns towards the water. "Last one in buys the first round of rum punch!" Danielle yells, already sprinting towards the turquoise waves. Hanni shrieks with laughter and takes off after her, splashing loudly as she hits the shallows. You exchange a quick glance with Minji. A silent challenge passes between you. You both break into a run, pounding across the warm sand, the sheer joy of the moment infectious.

You hit the water just behind Danielle, the cool rush a welcome shock against your hot skin. Hanni surfaces beside you, spluttering and laughing, immediately splashing you in the face. An impromptu water fight breaks out, devolving quickly into dunking attempts and general chaos. You find yourself wrestling playfully with Hanni, easily overpowering her small frame until Danielle teams up with her, both of them trying to drag you under while Minji watches from a few feet away, a genuine, wide smile finally gracing her face as she ducks a stray splash. You surrender, laughing, letting them dunk you before coming up sputtering. The water is crystal clear, the perfect temperature. Floating on your back, looking up at the vast blue sky, the stress feels like a distant memory, something that happened to someone else in another life.

Later, you all buy coconut water from a vendor walking the beach, sipping the cool liquid straight from the shells. You find some lounge chairs under a palm tree, settling in to dry off and just soak it all in. The conversation is relaxed, interspersed with comfortable silences. You talk about music, shitty campus jobs, travel dreams. Hanni leans against your chair, tracing patterns on your knee. Danielle scrolls through the photos she took earlier, narrating potential Instagram captions. Minji surprises you by asking about your work in the Innovation Club, showing genuine interest in the projects you mentioned offhand. You find yourself talking easily, sharing stories, laughing at their anecdotes. Every so often, your gaze drifts—to the curve of Hanni’s hip as she shifts, the way the sun glints off Danielle’s damp dark hair, the smooth expanse of Minji’s back as she reapplies sunscreen. And sometimes, you catch them looking back—Hanni’s gaze possessive and warm, Danielle’s open and appraising, Minji’s quick and thoughtful before flicking away. It’s not awkward, not yet anyway. It just... is. A current of awareness underneath the easy camaraderie. You feel yourself relaxing into the group, not just as Hanni’s plus-one, but as part of this specific configuration, here on this island.

The walk back to the villa is slower, limbs heavy with sun and salt water fatigue, but spirits are high. Sand seems to have infiltrated every possible crevice. You carry a bag heavy with takeout containers from a local spot the beach vendor recommended—grilled fish, rice and peas, fried plantains—the smell mingling with the lingering scent of sunscreen on your skin. Back inside the cool tiled haven of the Airbnb, it's a synchronized operation born of shared exhaustion. Food is dumped on the kitchen counter, bags are dropped, and a silent agreement is reached: showers first, then sustenance. You take turns, the spray washing away the grit and salt, leaving your skin tingling and refreshed. You change into fresh clothes; comfortable shorts and a clean t-shirt. When you emerge, the girls are gradually doing the same.

Hanni appears in a short, flowy white dress that leaves her shoulders bare, her damp hair slicked back. Danielle rocks a pair of ripped black jeans and a fitted band tee. Minji opts for a simple, dark purple maxi dress that emphasizes her height and clings subtly to her curves; she’s added a touch of dark lipstick that makes her mouth look incredibly plush. They all look fantastic, relaxed and glowing from the day in the sun, the weariness replaced by a comfortable, post-beach languor. You gather around the table, tearing into the takeout containers with minimal ceremony, conversation punctuated by satisfied groans and the clinking of forks.

Later, showered, fed, and buzzing with a pleasant tiredness, the energy shifts again. The quiet relaxation of the villa feels too contained for the lingering holiday buzz. "Okay," Hanni announces, pushing her empty container away. "Food coma is setting in. We need libations. And music that isn't just cicadas." Danielle nods eagerly. "Beach bar? I saw one on the walk back that looked like it had potential. Fairy lights and everything." Minji shrugs. "Sounds good. As long as they have something other than rum punch. I think I'm still tasting coconut from this afternoon." So, you head out again, walking down the now-darkening road towards the sound of faint music and the rhythmic crash of waves.

The seaside bar is exactly as Danielle described: strings of fairy lights draped between palm trees, low wooden tables scattered across a sandy floor just yards from the water's edge, a gentle breeze carrying the salt spray. Reggae music drifts from speakers, loud enough to feel but not so loud you have to shout. It’s perfect. You find a table slightly away from the main bar area, offering a bit more privacy and a clear view of the moonlit ocean. The first round of drinks arrives quickly, potent cocktails in various shades of pink and orange for the girls, a cold beer for you. The alcohol hits faster this time, layering nicely onto the residual relaxation from the sun and the satisfying meal. Laughter comes easier, conversation flows looser. Hanni kicks off her sandals under the table, her bare foot brushing against your calf. Danielle leans back, surveying the scene with a satisfied grin. Minji seems more animated, joining the banter more readily.

Another round arrives. The initial chatter about the day's adventures starts to fade, replaced by a more intimate, charged energy fueled by the booze and the proximity under the dim lights. Hanni, never one to shy away, leans forward, resting her chin on her hands, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looks directly at you. "Okay, serious question time," she suddenly announces, drawing the others' attention. She gestures vaguely between Danielle and Minji. "Them. Hot, right?" The question hangs there, blunt and direct. Danielle raises an eyebrow, a slow, amused smirk spreading across her face. Minji freezes for a split second, her eyes widening almost imperceptibly before she quickly looks down into her drink, though you see a faint blush creep up her neck.

You feel your own cheeks warm slightly, caught off guard but also weirdly pleased by Hanni’s boldness. You take a slow sip of your beer, meeting Hanni's challenging gaze. "Uh, yeah," you manage. "Obviously. They're both gorgeous." Hanni beams, clearly satisfied with phase one.

"Obviously," she echoes. "But details, details! What do you like most?" She leans in closer, conspiratorial. "Come on, don't be shy. We're all friends here... very good friends." Danielle leans forward too, her expression purely curious, maybe a little flattered. Minji keeps her eyes fixed on her drink, but she’s definitely listening, the blush deepening slightly. You feel put on the spot, but the alcohol buzz makes you bolder than usual. You glance at Danielle first. "Okay, uh... Dani?" You meet her amused gaze. "Your smile. Seriously. It’s like... super bright? Lights up your whole face. It’s really charming."

Danielle's smirk softens into a genuine, pleased grin. "Aww, thanks!" she says, actually looking a little bashful for a moment. Then you turn your attention to Minji, who still isn’t looking up. "And Minji..." You pause, gathering your thoughts. "Your lips." Her head snaps up at that, her eyes meeting yours. "They’re... really nice," you continue, feeling a bit awkward but pushing on. "Like, really plump. It gives a special touch to your face. And that lipstick you've got on tonight? Looks amazing." Minji’s blush flares again, reaching her ears this time, but she doesn’t look away. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile touches the lips you just complimented.

Hanni claps her hands together softly. "See? Knew you had good taste! And her lips aren't just nice to look at," she adds, leaning towards you again. "They're super soft too." You frown slightly, playing along, though Hanni’s earlier hints are clicking into place. "Oh yeah? And how would you know that?" Hanni grins wickedly, her eyes flicking towards Minji, who quickly looks away again, though the small smile lingers. "Because I've kissed them, obviously!" she declares matter-of-factly, like it's the most normal thing in the world.

Danielle bursts out laughing. "Oh my god, Han! Just drop it on him like that!" She turns to you, shaking her head. "No subtlety, this one." Hanni shrugs nonchalantly. "What? It's true. Right, Minj?" Minji mumbles something into her drink that sounds vaguely affirmative, still blushing furiously but not denying it.

"Wait, really?" you ask, genuinely surprised by the casual confirmation. Hanni nods. "Uh-huh. Long story. Involved too much cheap wine and a really bad rom-com marathon sophomore year." Danielle pipes up. "Ooh! You know what? Minji should give him a little demo! Just a peek!" Hanni grins. "Yeah, Minj! Show him how soft they are!" Minji looks horrified, her eyes darting between Hanni and Danielle. "No! Guys, stop!" she protests, but there's no real heat behind it, mostly flustered embarrassment.

"Come on," you coax gently, leaning slightly towards her across the table, emboldened by the alcohol and the sheer unexpectedness of the situation. "Just a quick one? For science?" She hesitates, biting her lip, the one you just complimented, then lets out a tiny sigh of defeat, glancing quickly at Hanni and Danielle's encouraging faces. "Okay, fine," she whispers, sounding resigned but maybe a tiny bit intrigued too. "Just... fast." You both lean forward across the small table, the space between you suddenly charged. Her eyes meet yours for a fraction of second before fluttering closed. You press your lips gently against hers. Hanni was right. They are incredibly soft, plush, tasting faintly of her fruity cocktail and that dark lipstick. It’s barely a kiss, just a soft, brief pressure, over almost as soon as it begins. You both pull back simultaneously, Minji immediately grabbing her drink and taking a large gulp, refusing to meet anyone's eyes, though the blush on her cheeks is now practically neon. Danielle and Hanni are practically vibrating with glee. "See?!" Hanni exclaims triumphantly. "Told you!"

The brief kiss seems to break some kind of barrier. Danielle leans forward, her expression shifting from amusement to genuine curiosity. "Okay, so now that we're all being honest... dish. You and Hanni." She gestures between you. "What's the deal? Like, what's she really like?" Minji looks up, her curiosity apparently overcoming her embarrassment. Hanni squirms slightly but looks at you expectantly. The question hangs there. They want the details. You glance at Hanni, who gives you a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Permission granted.

"She's..." you start, choosing your words carefully, mindful of the audience but wanting to be honest. "She likes to give up control. A lot." You pause, seeing Hanni's cheeks flush slightly but her eyes stay fixed on you. "Definitely submissive. And... needy. Like, really needy sometimes. In a good way," you quickly add. Hanni bites her lip, looking down at the table but not protesting. "Okay, yeah, fine," she mumbles. "That's... true." She looks up, meeting your eyes, a flicker of heat there. "And I like getting my ass slapped," she adds suddenly, defiantly, looking around the table. "Like, really hard sometimes." Danielle nods sagely. "Oh, we know, honey. We've heard the complaints about bruises." Hanni throws a napkin at her. Danielle laughs again, then turns back to you, her gaze sharp. "She's also really good with her mouth, though, right?" Her tone is casual, but the implication is clear. "Best head on campus, probably."

You feel your own face flush this time, but you can't exactly deny it. "Uh... yeah," you confirm, clearing your throat. "Yeah, she definitely is." You look at Danielle, a sudden suspicion dawning. "Wait a minute... how do you know? Have you two...?" Before you can even finish the question, Danielle cuts you off with a nod and a grin. "Yep." Hanni chimes in, waving her hand dismissively like it's old news. "Oh my god, babe, catch up. We've all hooked up. With each other. Multiple times."

You stare at her, then at Danielle, then at Minji, who is suddenly looking intensely interested in a scratch on the tabletop. "Wait. All of you? Even... Minji?" The idea seems incongruous with the shy girl who blushed at a compliment about her lips just moments ago. Danielle bursts out laughing again, louder this time. "Him asking about Minji! That's rich!" Hanni leans towards you again, lowering her voice dramatically. "Don't let the quiet act fool you. Seriously. This one?" She jerks her head towards Minji. "She's the worst of the lot. Total freak." Minji finally looks up, swatting weakly at Hanni's arm. "Hanni! Stop it!" she protests, but she’s giggling now, the blush returning with a vengeance. "It's true!" Danielle insists gleefully. "She's a total gooner! Seriously, if you saw her private Twitter account, you'd lose your mind. It's nothing but porn. Wall-to-wall." You look from Danielle's laughing face to Minji's mortified-but-giggling one.

"No way," you say, shaking your head. "I don't believe you." Hanni's eyes light up. "Oh yeah? Prove it, Minj! Show him!" Danielle chimes in, "Yeah, Minji, show him your shame!" Everyone is definitely several drinks deep now, the teasing fueled by alcohol and the increasingly charged atmosphere. Minji groans, hiding her face in her hands for a second. "Oh my god, you guys are the worst." But then she peeks through her fingers, looking at your skeptical face, then back at her grinning friends. A drunken shrug overtakes her embarrassment. "Ugh, fine! Whatever! Don't judge me!" She fumbles for her phone, unlocks it with slightly unsteady fingers, navigates somewhere, and then pushes the phone across the table towards you, refusing to watch your reaction.

You pick up the phone hesitantly. And holy shit. Danielle wasn't exaggerating. It's an Twitter feed, alright, but the timeline is an endless scroll of hardcore pornography. Just post after post. There's a lot of lesbian content, scenes featuring girls who look vaguely like college students, often involving strap-on use that looks surprisingly intense. There are clips of girls in clearly submissive roles, scenes heavy on BDSM elements—spanking, bondage, orgasm denial. You even scroll past some graphic bukkake clips and numerous retweets from other accounts that were clearly thirsty gooners just like her, It's... a lot. A very specific, surprisingly intense collection. You scroll for a few moments, genuinely taken aback but also undeniably intrigued. This quiet, reserved girl has this bubbling beneath the surface? You slide the phone back across the table to Minji, who snatches it back quickly, her face flaming.

You look at her, seeing her in a completely new light. Hanni leans forward eagerly. "So? What do you think? Pretty wild, right?" You take another swig of beer, your mind racing slightly, trying to reconcile the shy girl from earlier with the curator of that feed. "Yeah," you admit. "Wow. I... I liked it." You meet Minji's wide eyes, then glance at Danielle, then Hanni. "I like all of you," you clarify. Minji, emboldened by alcohol and perhaps the exposure of her secret, takes a deep breath and blurts out, "Okay, all this talk... it's kinda making me really horny." A beat of silence follows her confession, then Hanni and Danielle explode into laughter, not mocking, but relieved, echoing the sentiment. "Girl, same!" Danielle exclaims, fanning herself dramatically. Hanni's foot, which had been playing footsie with your calf, slides higher, pressing deliberately against the inside of your thigh. "Tell me about it," she murmurs, looking straight at you.

Then, subtly, almost imperceptibly to anyone not paying attention, her hand disappears beneath the edge of the table. You feel a sudden warmth brush against your leg, followed by the unmistakable pressure of her fingers closing around you through the fabric of your shorts. You were already semi-hard from the conversation and Minji’s surprising revelation, but Hanni’s direct touch sends a shockwave straight through you. Her grip is firm, knowing, squeezing rhythmically, chasing away any remaining shred of drunken haze, replacing it with focused heat. Your cock leaps against her palm, instantly thick and fully hard, straining against the confinement of your shorts. She lets out a low hum of approval, her thumb stroking slowly over the rigid head through the material. Her eyes don't leave yours as she leans in slightly, her voice a low murmur just for you, though the others are definitely watching now, their own conversations faltering. "Someone else feeling horny too?" she asks. Her fingers tighten again, emphasizing the point. You nod, unable to trust your voice for a second, swallowing hard.

"Yes," you manage, the word rough. "A lot." Her lips curve into a slow, predatory smile. "Good," she whispers. "Think you might want to help us... get some release? We seem to be having a bit of a problem." She glances meaningfully at Danielle and Minji, who are both watching the interaction intently. You look at them, then back at Hanni's hand clamped firmly around your erection. There’s no hesitation. "Yeah," you say. "Yeah, I would."

"All of us, though?" Dani asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "That's a lot of... stress relief needed. Think you can handle the workload?" You meet her gaze squarely, feeling a surge of confidence fueled by the alcohol, the blatant desire from all three girls, and the throbbing hardness currently being expertly manipulated under the table. "Don't worry about me," you assure her, letting a smirk touch your lips. "I can handle it." Danielle studies you for a moment, then a slow grin spreads across her face. She nods once, decisively. "Okay then," she says, pushing her chair back slightly. "Convinced. Let's blow this popsicle stand." Hanni removes her hand, leaving you aching and overly sensitive, and immediately flags down the server. The bill is settled quickly, a blur of crumpled bills and credit cards amidst giddy, slightly slurred instructions.

The walk back to the villa is something else. Hands brush accidentally-on-purpose, glances linger far too long, bursts of nervous laughter bubble up and fade just as quickly. You're hyper-aware of Hanni pressed against your side, Danielle walking slightly ahead but looking back frequently with that challenging grin, and Minji trailing just behind, her eyes fixed on you with an unnerving focus.

—

Inside, the door barely clicks shut before the fragile dam of drunken restraint breaks. It's not a frantic rush, but a magnetic pull. Eyes lock, breaths hitch. Without a word, you all seem to gravitate towards the back of the villa, towards the room you're sharing with Hanni, the one with the bigger bed. Inside the room, the dim light spilling from the hallway casts long shadows. Hanni kicks the door shut. The click echoes in the sudden quiet. Then, they turn to you as one.

"Sit," Danielle commands, pointing towards the large bed dominating the room. You obey, perching on the edge, your heart hammering against your ribs, your cock already aching behind your zipper. They converge on you, a wave of perfume, booze, and female heat. Hands are everywhere, immediately working at the buttons of your shirt, the buckle of your belt. Hanni leans in, her lips finding yours in a demanding kiss, tongue plunging deep, tasting like sweet cocktails and pure need. Simultaneously, Danielle is working on your shorts, her knuckles brushing against your thigh, while Minji’s surprisingly cool fingers are undoing your belt buckle with fumbling but determined movements. Kisses land on your jaw, your neck, interspersed with soft murmurs and pleased little sounds as your shirt comes off, tossed carelessly onto the floor. They pull back slightly to wrestle your shorts and boxers down your legs, clumsy in their eagerness. And then you're naked, sitting on the edge of the bed, fully exposed under their combined gaze.

A collective intake of breath follows. Their eyes drop to your cock, now completely hard and jutting proudly upwards, thick and heavy in the dim light. "Holy shit," Danielle breathes, her eyes wide. Minji just stares, her lips slightly parted, her earlier blush returning. Hanni beams, puffing her chest out slightly, a ridiculous wave of proprietary pride washing over her flushed face. "Told you," she says smugly. She reaches out, her fingers gently cupping your balls, weighing them in her palm before tracing a single finger up the thick, straining shaft. You groan involuntarily at the touch. Then, as quickly as they converged, they pull back, leaving you momentarily alone on the bed, throbbing and exposed.

They exchange glances, a silent, giddy agreement passing between them. And then their clothes start coming off. It’s not a polished performance; it’s a clumsy, drunken, utterly captivating strip tease. Hanni fumbles with the zipper on the back of her white dress, giggling as Danielle reaches over to help her, their fingers brushing, sparking little smiles. The dress pools at her feet, revealing her red panties and bra. Minji pulls her maxi dress over her head in one smooth motion, her dark hair falling across her face for a second before she shakes it back, revealing simple dark underwear beneath. Danielle makes a show of unbuttoning her band tee slowly, teasingly, before peeling it off, then struggling for a comical moment with the button on her tight shorts, hopping slightly. You can't help yourself; the sight is overwhelming. Your hand finds your own cock, slicking unconsciously back and forth, a gentle pressure trying to alleviate the almost painful tightness in your groin as you watch them.

Layer by layer, the clothes disappear. Hanni peels off her bra, revealing familiar, medium, perky breasts, her nipples already tight little buds, a slightly lighter shade of pinkish-brown. Her bottoms follow, showcasing those juicy hips and the soft curve of her stomach. You know her body well, every curve, every freckle, but seeing her reveal herself alongside the others, the anticipation of finally tasting what she’s offered, makes her look brand new, utterly delicious. Danielle steps out of her shorts and removes her bra and panties skillfully, tossing them aside. Her body is exactly as advertised by that bikini—lean, toned muscle, tight curves, that incredibly sculpted stomach, and an ass that’s high, round, and practically begging to be grabbed. Her breasts are small and firm, fitting perfectly with her athletic frame.

Then Minji. She slips off her dark bra and panties with less fanfare but no less impact. Her body is softer than Danielle's, taller, with that amazing thickness that you could glimpse on the beach. Her ass is spectacular, full and round, contrasting beautifully with her narrow waist. And as she turns slightly, you notice it, unlike the others, Minji has a neatly trimmed patch of dark pubic hair, a small, perfect triangle that somehow looks incredibly erotic, drawing your eye right to the juncture of her thighs. Her nipples are puffy like Hanni’s, tight points betraying her arousal, but darker, a deep brown against her paler skin. Naked, flushed, slightly unsteady on their feet but radiating pure heat, they stand before you, a breathtaking trio of distinctly beautiful, completely desirable girls.

The hesitation evaporates. They move towards the bed again, converging on you. This time, the kisses are frantic, hungry. All three mouths descend on yours at once, a confusing, exhilarating tangle of tongues, teeth, and soft lips. You taste Hanni's familiar sweetness, Danielle's minty gum underneath the alcohol, Minji's dark lipstick and fruity cocktail. It’s overwhelming, chaotic, pure sensation. Then, as if by unspoken agreement, they shift, allowing for more individual attention. Danielle kisses you hard, her hand gripping the back of your neck, before pulling away slightly, breathless. Minji follows, her kiss surprisingly bold, her plump lips pressing firmly against yours, her tongue exploring tentatively. Then Hanni takes over again, slower this time, deeper, staking her claim before finally pulling back, leaving you gasping, your lips tingling. Without a word, Minji and Danielle slide off the edge of the bed, kneeling between your legs on the cool tile floor. Their eyes meet yours for a split second—Danielle’s full of playful fire, Minji’s dark and intense, her earlier shyness completely burned away by booze and lust.

Then, they lower their heads. The first touch is electric—Minji’s soft lips closing around the base of your shaft while Danielle flicks her tongue experimentally over the sensitive tip. A wave of heat washes over you, so intense it makes your vision swim for a second. Hanni, meanwhile, clambers onto the bed beside you, straddling your leg, and leans down, her hot mouth closing over one of your nipples, sucking hard. She knows exactly how much you love that, the sharp pleasure radiating through your chest. Below, Minji starts licking slowly up the shaft, her movements deliberate, coating you in saliva, while Danielle focuses on swirling her tongue around the head, occasionally taking the entire glans into her mouth. Watching Minji’s plump, dark-lipstick-smudged lips wrap around your cock is insanely hot, almost surreal after the earlier conversation. She makes a low sound of appreciation in her throat, then shifts her focus, her tongue darting out to lave your balls, taking one into her warm mouth while Danielle takes over the full length of your shaft, her throat working expertly. Hanni keeps sucking, occasionally biting gently, sending sparks down your spine.

Your head is thrown back against the headboard, eyes half-lidded, lost in the onslaught of sensation. Minji’s lips and tongue are working magic on your balls, swirling, sucking gently, driving you insane. Danielle has the entire length of your shaft engulfed, her throat working expertly, bobbing up and down with practiced rhythm. The friction, the wet heat, it’s almost unbearable. Hanni finally releases your nipple, leaving it wet and hypersensitive, and slides down your body to join the others.

"Move over," she murmurs, nudging Minji slightly. "Sharing is caring." Minji glances up, lipstick thoroughly smeared, a dazed, hungry look in her eyes, and shifts slightly, giving Hanni access. Now it's pure lust, three mouths devoted entirely to your cock. Hanni focuses on the base, her tongue mimicking Minji’s earlier attention to your balls while her lips create a tight seal. Minji works the mid-section, her plump lips sliding up and down, while Danielle maintains her relentless assault on the head. You groan, a low, guttural sound torn from your throat, arching off the bed slightly.

"Fuck," Danielle gasps, pulling off for a second, leaving a trail of saliva glistening on your skin. "He tastes so good." Minji nods vigorously, licking her lips slowly as she eyes your still-throbbing shaft. "So good," she agrees. Hanni looks up, grinning, then leans over and captures Minji’s mouth in a deep, sloppy kiss, tongues tangling right there next to your thigh. Minji moans into the kiss, her hand coming up to cup Hanni’s cheek. They break apart, breathless, saliva shining on their lips. Danielle watches them, then leans across your lap and kisses Hanni hard. "My turn," she murmurs against Hanni's lips before pulling back and immediately latching back onto your cock with renewed vigor. Hanni laughs, a throaty sound, then dives back in alongside Minji. They work together now, a tag team of tongues and lips, sometimes bumping heads, sometimes pausing to shoot each other competitive little smirks. At one point, Minji deliberately licks a trail up your shaft right into Danielle's mouth, making Danielle groan and push her head away playfully.

"Bitch," Danielle mumbles, before they both dissolve into muffled giggles against your skin. The sight of them teasing each other, kissing while their mouths are slick with your cum-preview, drives you absolutely wild. Your hips start to buck involuntarily against their mouths. "Easy, tiger," Hanni murmurs, pulling off slightly. "Gotta make you last." But you can feel it, the tight knot coiling deep in your gut, the pressure building relentlessly. You're ready. More than ready. You need to be inside one of them, now.

Danielle seems to sense it too. She pulls off completely, her breathing ragged, eyes blazing with drunken lust. "Okay, okay," she pants, looking up at you, determination etched on her face. "Me first. I called dibs, right? Kinda?" She glances at the others for confirmation, though it’s clearly a statement, not a question. Hanni shrugs, still lazily licking the underside of your shaft. "Technically I had first dibs," she points out nonchalantly, referencing her sleepy pre-nap claim. "But whatever. You look like you need it more right now." Minji nods, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Go for it, Dani." Danielle grins, a triumphant, feral look.

She starts to climb onto the bed, clearly intending to mount you. "Uh-uh," you interrupt, your voice coming out rougher, more commanding than you intended, fueled by the overwhelming need to take control. She freezes, looking at you with wide, surprised eyes. "Get on your hands and knees," you order, pointing to the middle of the large bed. "Ass up." A slow, wicked smile spreads across her face. "Yes, sir," she purrs, the words dripping with mock obedience that doesn't quite hide the genuine thrill. She turns without another word and crawls onto the bed, positioning herself exactly as you instructed, hands planted firmly, back arched, presenting her tight, perfect ass directly towards you.

The view is fucking incredible.

Minji watches Danielle get into position, then, with a predatory gleam in her own eyes, she climbs onto the bed as well. She doesn't hesitate, crawling forward until she's sitting directly in front of Danielle, facing her, legs spread wide. She leans back on her hands, tilting her hips slightly, offering an explicit, deliberate view of her own slick, swollen folds and that neatly trimmed patch of hair. Her dark, puffy nipples are tight points, her breathing shallow.

Hanni slides off the floor where she’d been kneeling and comes to your side, pressing her naked body against yours, her skin hot. She reaches down, wrapping her hand around your still-aching cock, stroking it slowly, deliberately. "Ready to play?" she whispers, her lips brushing against your ear before she starts kissing your neck, her tongue tracing lazy circles while her hand keeps up its steady rhythm.

You look at the scene arrayed before you: Danielle, arched and waiting, her tight asshole puckering slightly with anticipation; Minji, sprawled open, her wet cunt glistening invitingly just beyond; Hanni, plastered against your side, her hand working you, her lips on your skin. Your cock pulses in her grip, slick and hard as rock.

Fuck yes, you're ready.

You shift forward, moving between Danielle’s waiting legs, Hanni’s hand dropping away as you position the thick head of your cock right at Danielle’s entrance. She whimpers softly, pushing back against you almost imperceptibly.

You grip Danielle's hips firmly, steadying yourself, steadying her. Her skin is hot and slick with a fine sheen of sweat under your palms. She pushes back against the head of your cock again. You don't make her wait. With a low groan, you thrust forward, pushing into her tight cunt. Holy fuck, she's snug. Her muscles clench around you instinctively, gripping you like a velvet fist. Danielle cries out, a sharp gasp that’s half pain, half pure pleasure, her back arching even more. "Oh god... yes! Fuck, you're thick," she pants. You pause for a second, letting her body adjust, letting yourself savor the incredible sensation of being buried deep inside her heat. It’s delicious, just as you imagined—tight, wet, welcoming. Hanni moans softly against your neck, her hand sliding down your stomach, fingers dancing near the base of your cock where it disappears into Danielle. She keeps kissing you, slow, wet, open-mouthed kisses.

Then, Danielle, still impaled on your cock, twists her head around, her hair sticking slightly to her damp forehead. Her eyes land on Minji, who's watching the penetration with wide, dark, fascinated eyes, her own pussy glistening. A wicked grin splits Danielle's face. "Don't think I forgot about you," she murmurs. She leans forward, stretching, until her face is level with Minji's spread legs. Without hesitation, Danielle's tongue darts out, flicking directly against Minji's clit. Minji gasps, her hips jolting off the bed slightly. "Oh! Fuck, Dani..." she breathes out, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. Danielle chuckles, a low, throaty sound, and settles in, her mouth closing over Minji's swollen folds, sucking and licking with obvious expertise while your cock is still buried deep inside her own pussy. The sight is outrageously hot.

The combined stimuli, the incredible tightness surrounding your cock, the sight of Danielle devouring Minji, Hanni’s hot breath and soft lips on your neck, threaten to overload your senses. You need an outlet. As Hanni continues her sensual assault on your neck and shoulders, your free hand drifts down, your hand sliding across her soft skin. She gasps softly against your skin as your fingers probe deeper, easily finding her clit, already hard and slick. She’s soaking wet. You press down, rubbing in slow circles, then faster, mimicking the rhythm of your thrusts into Danielle. Hanni moans louder this time, grinding her hips against your side, pushing herself onto your fingers. "Yes... fuck, right there," she whispers urgently against your ear, her kisses becoming frantic, biting slightly at your earlobe. You start pumping into Danielle again, finding a steady rhythm. She groans with each thrust, her head thrown back now, entirely focused on pleasuring Minji, whose soft whimpers harmonize with Danielle's louder cries. You slide a finger inside Hanni, then two, stretching her slightly.

She gasps, digging her nails into your shoulder, her wetness coating your fingers as you scissor them inside her, hitting her g-spot with deliberate pressure while continuing to fuck Danielle’s tight cunt. It's a great combination of sensations: Danielle’s tight grip around your shaft, the visual feast of her eating Minji out, Hanni’s frantic moans against your ear as your fingers work her magic, the slick slap of skin on skin filling the hot, humid room.

You settle into a driving rhythm, fucking Danielle with deep, steady strokes that make the bed frame groan softly beneath you. Her tight pussy milks you with every plunge, threatening to pull you under completely. "Oh fuck... oh fuck," she chants, head still turned as her tongue works relentlessly between Minji’s legs. Minji is trembling now, whimpers escaping her lips, her hips twitching uncontrollably. Danielle seems to feed off it, her ministrations becoming almost frantic, sucking harder, her fingers finding Minji's clit and rubbing insistently.

Beside you, Hanni is writhing against your hand, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Deeper," she pants against your neck, her voice strained. "Fuck, yes... finger me harder!" You obey instantly, increasing the speed of your scissoring fingers inside her slick pussy, driving them deeper, hitting that spot again and again. Your thumb finds her clit, rubbing hard circles, mirroring the relentless rhythm of your thrusts into Danielle. Hanni cries out, a high, keening sound, bucking violently against your hand. "Like that! Oh god, don't stop!" Her nails are digging into your back now, leaving trails of fire on your skin. Her wetness coats your hand, slick and hot.

You increase your pace fucking Danielle, slamming into her harder, faster, drawing ragged moans from her throat that mingle with Minji’s higher-pitched cries. Danielle's ass cheeks clench around the base of your cock with each impact. "Jesus Christ," she manages to gasp out between frantic licks against Minji's folds. "You trying to split me in two?" Her voice is breathless, strained, but there’s no complaint in it, only raw, overwhelmed pleasure.

You lean down, grabbing a handful of her sweat-dampened hair, pulling her head back slightly. "You like it rough, don't you?" you growl near her ear. She just groans in response, her eyes rolling back slightly as you pound into her relentlessly, your balls slapping against her wet skin. Minji lets out a choked sob as Danielle’s mouth clamps down hard on her clit. "Dani! Oh fuck... please!" she pleads, though it's unclear if she's begging her to stop or begging for more. Danielle just grunts, seemingly lost in her task, her own body shuddering with the force of your thrusts. The friction inside Danielle is incredible, almost overwhelming. It feels like molten heat, tight and demanding.

Hanni is completely lost to your fingers, her head thrown back, neck arched, moaning your name over and over again, interspersed with incoherent pleas. "Faster... oh god, yes, faster..." You oblige, your fingers blurring inside her, thumb relentless on her clit, feeling the tremors starting deep within her body. She feels so fucking good, so responsive, her wetness seemingly endless. You alternate your attention, one deep thrust into Danielle followed by a faster, harder push of your fingers into Hanni, then she suddenly grabs your wrist, guiding your fingers, pressing them harder against her G-spot. "Right... there! Fuck me with your fingers, goddammit!" she demands. You push harder, deeper, feeling her inner muscles convulse around your digits. Danielle is bucking back against you now with every thrust, meeting your force with her own, her moans becoming deeper, throatier.

She pulls her mouth away from Minji for a second, gasping for air, her face flushed crimson, eyes glazed over. "Fuck... keep going... don't you fucking stop," she pants, looking back at you over her shoulder, her expression pure, unadulterated lust. Minji whimpers at the loss of contact, reaching down blindly as if to pull Danielle back. The room is filled with the sounds of their cries, your own ragged breathing, the wet slap of fucking, the rhythmic creak of the bed. Sweat drips from your forehead, tracing paths down your chest. You keep driving forward, burying yourself in Danielle's heat again and again, while your fingers continue their relentless assault on Hanni, pushing them both higher, deeper into the frenzy.

"Fuck—fuck—your cock’s so deep—" she chokes out, voice cracking around every word, cheek pressed to the mattress as she tries to keep herself steady. But she’s shaking. She’s soaked. Each slam of your hips punches a breath out of her lungs and scrambles the last of her coordination. Her mouth’s right between Minji’s legs, tongue trying to flick and suck at her clit, but she’s sloppy now, moaning too loud, jaw slack, not really able to focus.

"Shit—Danielle," Minji gasps, hips twitching forward, grabbing a fistful of hair, trying to keep her mouth on target. "I need it—don’t stop—" But Danielle just whimpers, licking blindly, overwhelmed, breath hot against Minji’s soaked slit.

To your right, Hanni’s curled beside you, one leg thrown over your thigh, her hips grinding against your fingers like it’s the only thing keeping her sane. Her pussy’s glistening, juices coating your knuckles as you curl two fingers into her, stroking that spot inside her with precision, ruthless in how steady you are. "Fucking—god," she pants, her head thrown back. "You’re gonna make me cum just from your fingers—I’m not kidding—I swear—keep going—don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—"

You don’t stop. You press in deeper, scissoring your fingers slightly, flattening them inside her and rubbing hard. You watch her fall apart. She slaps one hand over her mouth and fails to muffle the scream—"F-fuck, I’m cumming—oh god I’m cumming fuck—fuck—fuck—"—her hips bucking hard, pussy clenching tight around your fingers, gushing down your wrist in hot spurts. She thrashes, thighs squeezing shut around your hand, breath caught in her throat until it breaks into a ragged sob of release.

You pull your hand free, sticky and shining, and slap her ass once, making her whimper and twitch. Then you turn back to Danielle.

"Focus," you growl, hands tightening on her hips, guiding her back down into the mattress. She’s collapsed halfway, elbows shaking under her weight, mouth hanging open, spit dripping from her chin. You slam back into her, cock punching deep, and she lets out a wrecked cry.

"A-ahhh—god—please—fuck me harder—I need it harder—please, please, please—"

"You begging for it now?" you grunt, slapping her ass again, watching it jiggle. "You want it faster, Dani? You wanna be fucked dumb in front of your friends?"

"Yes, yes—fuck—I’m so close—I’m not gonna last—" she whines. You grab a fistful of her hair and tug her head up.

"Then earn it. Don’t ignore your friend," you snap, nodding at Minji, who's watching with parted lips, her legs still open, two fingers slowly rubbing her clit while she watches Dani get railed. "Get back to her pussy. She needs you." Danielle gasps, tears in her eyes, but she listens. Her mouth drops between Minji’s thighs again, tongue sloppily lapping at her folds, one hand fumbling between the friend’s legs as she tries to focus through your brutal pace.

Minji moans, high and breathy. "Fuck—Dani—yes, yes just like that—faster—"

You slam into Danielle harder, angle shifting to hit deep, bottoming out with a filthy slap every time your hips crash into her ass. Her pussy clamps around you, fluttering tight, and she cries out around Minji’s clit, still trying to suck while her body melts. Her hand jerks between Minji’s thighs, fingers frantic now, not coordinated, just desperate. Minji lets out a sob, hips bucking forward into Danielle’s mouth, hand flying up to cover her face.

"Oh—fuck—I’m gonna cum—fuck—keep going—don’t stop—Danielle—yes—!"

And it all goes to hell at once. Danielle screams, back arching hard as her orgasm slams through her. She tries to stay upright, but you keep pounding into her, fucking her through it, and she collapses with her face still buried in Minji’s cunt, fingers still moving. Minji bucks against her, gasping, thighs clamping around Dani’s head as she cries out, cumming in tandem.

"Ahhh—ah—fuck—right there! I'm so fucking horny, shit!" Minji’s whole body tightens, legs shaking, face twisting up with ecstasy as she rides Danielle’s fingers, moaning loud and raw. Her pussy drips down Dani’s wrist as she crashes through her climax, her moans rising with each jerk of her hips.

Danielle’s still moaning too, overwhelmed, ruined, your cock still buried inside her. Her thighs are trembling, cunt milking you, breath ragged.

"Fuck—don’t stop—don’t stop—please keep fucking me—" she begs, almost sobbing, cheek to the sheets, body limp except for her ass pushing back on you.

The bed's a fucking mess, pillows shoved to the floor, sheets half-knotted around legs, heat soaked into every crease like the mattress itself is sweating. Your body’s burning, cock still buried inside Danielle’s fluttering cunt, her hips twitching in aftershocks as she rides the final, ragged edge of her orgasm. Her knees are wide, thighs sticky, her whole frame drooped forward, arms barely keeping her up. You slow down, rolling your hips deep and slow now, just enough to milk every last tremble out of her while her walls squeeze you in these lazy, fading pulses.

“Fuuuck,” Dani groans, slumping down with her cheek pressed into the mattress, face turned just enough for you to see the edge of a dumb, dazed grin. Her eyes are glassy, mouth open, a slick trail of drool stretched from her lip to the bed. “I… I don’t even know what dimension I’m in anymore.” She giggles; light, dizzy, totally lost in that giddy cocktail of post-orgasm high and bar-cocktail drunk. Her whole body shakes as she laughs, then sighs like she’s been deflated.

You slide out of her slow, and she whimpers at the drag, her pussy so sensitive she jerks once on instinct before collapsing flat. You lean in, brushing damp hair away from her cheek, and kiss her, soft, messy, her lips parted, her breath still hiccuping as she giggles into your mouth.

“You’re fucking insane,” she murmurs against your lips, eyes fluttering. “Like. You’ve broken parts of my brain. I think I forgot my major.”

You grin and kiss her again, deeper this time, until she moans, then pull back and look over her shoulder where Hanni’s sprawled out watching you both, her hair a tangle, her inner thighs still glistening with the mess you made earlier. She’s on her side now, hand idly toying with her clit while she watches, all flushed and content and still hungry.

But the moment you turn your attention across the bed, Minji’s already sitting up straighter, brushing hair off her collarbones, eyes locked on you. Her lips are still dark with that same lipstick, slightly smudged now, and her thighs glisten faintly from the earlier action. She raises an eyebrow as you meet her gaze, then tilts her head with a sly little smile.

“My turn,” she says simply, like she’s been waiting with this exact line loaded. “Gonna let me ride you?”

You crawl over the bed, over Dani’s spent body, past Hanni’s grinning mouth, and stop in front of Minji. Her breath catches when you lean in and kiss her slow, letting her taste the linger of Danielle’s moans still on your mouth. She kisses back, firmer, confident, a low sound rumbling in her chest as your hand cups her jaw, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth.

“You sure?” you murmur against her lips.

She laughs under her breath. “I’ve been wet for you since the airport,” she whispers. “You’re gonna let me fuck myself stupid or what?”

You lie back in the middle of the bed, propped on a few bunched pillows, and your cock’s already thick and heavy, slick from Dani’s orgasm, standing tall against your stomach. Minji doesn’t wait for permission, she climbs over you, slow and deliberate, straddling your hips like she’s done it a dozen times in her head already.

Her body’s gorgeous: tall, legs strong and smooth, breasts swaying slightly with each shift. Her pussy looks perfect, soft lips already glistening as she kneels above you and wraps a hand around your cock, guiding the thick head to her slit. She shudders just from that contact, biting her lip, her eyes fluttering half-shut.

“Holy shit,” she whispers, dragging your tip through her folds, hips rocking teasingly. “You're so fucking thick.”

“Minji,” Hanni calls, breathless from the other side of the bed. She’s giggling now too, watching her friend work your cock like it’s a goddamn delicacy. “Wait till he’s inside. That first stretch? Fuuuck.”

Minji shoots her a smirk, then lowers herself slow, her pussy parting around your head with slick, obscene resistance. “Jesus,” she breathes, nails digging into your chest. “Hanni wasn’t kidding. You’re huge. I can feel you in my fucking lungs.”

She sinks further, inch by inch, body tensing every time your cock stretches her wider. Her mouth falls open as she drops her hips that last inch, fully seating herself on you with a stuttering gasp.

“Oh my god,” she moans, rocking forward instinctively, trying to breathe through the sudden full-body shock of being stretched so deep. “No wonder she’s always so smug after hooking up with you.”

Your hands settle on her waist, thumbs stroking her flushed skin as she starts moving—slow, careful rolls of her hips at first, working herself open around your cock. Her brows knit together, jaw slack, riding the edge between discomfort and overwhelming pleasure.

“That’s it,” you murmur, dragging your hands up her sides. “Take what you want, Minji. Fucking use me.”

She moans again, louder this time, starting to ride properly now—bouncing with more rhythm, her thighs flexing, tits jiggling with every downstroke. You groan, letting her set the pace, feeling how tight and warm and wet she is wrapped around you.

Across the mattress, Hanni and Danielle have gravitated toward each other. Hanni climbs into Dani’s lap, straddling her thigh and tugging her into a kiss. Danielle, still fucked out and giggling, moans as Hanni’s mouth crushes against hers. Their bodies grind together slow, Hanni humping Dani’s thigh, both of them breathless, lost in the press of lips and the slippery rub of skin on skin.

“Your pussy still twitching, huh?” Hanni purrs into Danielle’s mouth, licking the corner of her lips.

“Mmhmm,” Dani hums, pulling Hanni tighter against her. “But you’re worse. You’re dripping, babe.”

Their hands disappear between each other’s thighs, working slow and sloppy while Minji rides you harder now, both hands on your chest for leverage.

“Oh—fucking—fuck—” she gasps, voice pitching higher every time she bottoms out. “It’s too good—I can’t— I get it now, I get why she’s obsessed—fuck—this cock’s gonna ruin me—”

And you’re still just lying there, letting her take what she needs, eyes flicking between the two girls grinding against each other and Minji’s flushed, desperate face as she bounces faster, cunt slapping down onto your hips with wet, hungry sounds that echo under the moans. Her thighs tremble, sweat dotting her collarbone, hair clinging to her cheeks as she loses her rhythm for a second and drops down hard, bottoming out and grinding herself there, desperate for more friction. Her eyes roll up slightly, fingers clawing at your chest.

“Don’t stop me,” she begs, voice cracking. “I’m gonna fucking cum like this—I swear—I can’t hold it—”

Hanni and Dani’s moans rise in tandem, their fingers flicking across each other’s clits, messy and fast now, lips locked, hands tangled in hair.

You're surrounded, soaked in it—girls panting and moaning, cunt tightening around your cock, legs shaking. Minji’s voice goes high and breathless as she stutters, hips jerking.

She’s close, you can tell—her body’s right on that trembling edge, cunt spasming tight around your cock every time her hips slam down—but she’s holding herself back, grinding harder like she wants it to hurt a little, like she needs that something more to tip her over. Sweat drips down her spine, her back arched, lips parted around a panting whimper. Her fingers dig into your chest like she’s anchoring herself to reality, and her eyes stay fixed on yours, burning through the low amber light of the fucked-out room.

Her pace shifts. Not slower. Not faster. Just... different. Focused. Controlled. Her thighs flex, bouncing with steady purpose, her rhythm so exact you can feel your cock stretching her perfectly on every single roll of her hips. She’s fucking herself into a stupor, breath coming ragged now, and her voice shakes as she leans forward a little, grinding deeper.

“Choke me,” she breathes, quiet but absolutely clear.

You blink up at her, heart kicking once hard in your chest. And then you’re moving, hands sliding up her arms, over the sweat-slicked plane of her neck. You wrap your fingers around her throat and squeeze—not too hard at first, just enough pressure to make her gasp and rock harder.

Her reaction is instant.

“Oh my god,” she chokes out, eyes fluttering, lips twitching into this crooked, dirty grin. “Fuck—yes. Like that—more—don’t hold back—”

You squeeze again, harder this time, and her pussy clamps down on your cock like a fucking vice. Her whole body jolts forward, hair falling into her face, mouth open in a half-scream, half-moan as she keeps riding you through it. The weight of your grip around her throat sends her spiraling—head tipping back, breath coming in short bursts, cunt dripping down your length. Right beside you, a ripple of giggles breaks out—Hanni and Danielle tangled together like drunk, horny vines. Hanni’s on top, legs locked, slick skin sliding. Dani’s thigh is jammed between Hanni’s, and they’re grinding against each other, messy and frantic, watching you and Minji like it’s the best fucking show they’ve ever seen.

“Look at her,” Hanni laughs, breathless, one arm around Dani’s waist as they rock together. “She’s such a little freak, huh?”

Danielle moans, smiling, her hand gripping Hanni’s ass as she bucks against her. “Fuck, yeah. That’s so hot. Look at her face—look how she takes it—ugh, I love this group.”

Minji’s smiling too now, delirious with it, red in the face from the pressure and the pounding. “They’re watching,” she gasps, like it turns her on even more. “They’re fucking watching me like a porn—fuck!—like a fucking slut—”

You keep one hand around her throat and drag the other down, sliding hard across her cheek. The slap cracks through the room.

Minji jolts, gasping, her eyes wide and shining. She pauses—just for a second—then smiles. It’s crooked and hot and wild, like you just unlocked some part of her she doesn’t show most people.

“Again,” she breathes, biting her lip. “Slap me again.”

You do. This time louder. Her head whips a little with the force, her hair flying loose around her face. Her thighs clamp down tighter around your waist. Her pussy floods your cock.

“Fuuuck,” Danielle moans, grinding harder against Hanni. “God, that’s so hot. Minji, baby, you’re killing me right now.”

“Don’t stop,” Hanni pants, rocking her hips hard against Danielle’s, wet friction loud and shameless. “Fucking wreck her, babe. She loves it—look at her—she’s drooling.”

Minji really is. Her chin’s slick, her mouth open, this desperate, fucked-out expression carved into her features like you’ve turned her into someone else entirely. She’s bouncing harder now, breath knocked out of her with each slap of your hips, moaning louder every time your hand hits her cheek.

“Harder—fuck me harder,” she snarls, voice raw, throat bruised under your grip. “Slap me again—do it—do it!”

Another slap. Another gasp. Another roll of her hips, harder than the last. Your cock is buried deep in her, stretching her open, her clit grinding against your pelvis every time she sinks down. She’s dripping, moaning, riding like a demon, chasing something violent.

You glance over—Hanni’s got Dani on her back now, one leg hooked over her shoulder, both of them flushed and sticky, fingers tangled in hair, lips swollen from kissing. They’re still scissoring, sloppier now, hips rocking, thighs trembling.

“Minji’s the star tonight,” Hanni pants, glancing over at you with that fox-smirk that always means she’s up to no good. “God, look at her ride that cock—like she’s starving.”

“I wanna try it next,” Dani mumbles between kisses. “Like, right after. While it’s still all soaked in her mess.”

Hanni giggles, sliding down Dani’s body and latching onto her nipple, teeth grazing it just enough to make Dani yelp and arch up. “Greedy bitch,” she teases, “but after Minji it's my turn.”

Minji hears all of it. She moans, louder now, her pace going ragged.

“Y-you hear that?” she gasps, hands pressing to your chest for balance as she keeps riding, hair flying in her face. “They want your cock next. Right after I break it.” You squeeze her throat again, watching her eyes roll back, then slap her one more time, hard. She’s moaning with every thrust, every slap, the sound messy, guttural, losing the rhythm of it as pleasure cracks her composure.

She’s grinding hard now, not even bouncing—just trying to mash her clit against your pelvis with these desperate, dragging circles, her pussy squeezing your cock with every motion like her body’s trying to pull you deeper, trying to milk something out of you she hasn’t earned yet. Her eyes catch yours, glazed and raw, and she swallows hard like she can barely keep it together.

“Call me a whore,” she gasps suddenly. “Fuck—say it—call me your little whore.”

Your hands slide up her thighs, over her hips, fingers sinking into the curve of her waist as you thrust up once, hard, just to feel how tight she clutches you when she gasps.

“You’re a fucking whore,” you growl, eyes locked on hers. “A cock-drunk, needy little whore riding like your life depends on it.”

She shudders, moaning loud, mouth dropping open like the words themselves fucked her.

“F-fuck, yes,” she breathes, “that’s it—that’s what I needed—fuck me—break me—”

She leans down, chest pressed to yours, and kisses you, mouth hot and wet and shaking. Her lips move against yours, but she’s still whispering between the kisses, frantic.

“Please make me cum—please—I need it so bad—just fucking take it—”

You sit up under her, strong arms locking around her back, rolling her onto the mattress without pulling out. Your bodies flip, her thighs falling open under you, legs spread wide as you slam back in and start pounding her—deep, fast, merciless.

Minji screams, nails clawing at your back, her body rocking with the force of your thrusts. “Oh my god—oh my fucking god—yes—yes, don’t stop—don’t stop!”

You don’t. You hammer into her, hips slapping against the backs of her thighs, cock spearing into her soaked, swollen pussy until she’s drooling onto her own chin, shaking under you, her moans turning to broken sobs of pleasure.

“Fuck, look at her,” Hanni laughs, breathless, watching with wild eyes from where she’s still wrapped around Dani. “Minji’s such a fucking slut right now—so perfect!”

Danielle’s moaning too, her fingers tangled in Hanni’s hair, one leg hooked around Hanni’s waist. Her eyes are locked on the way your hips crash into Minji’s, the way her pussy’s clenching and dripping around your cock with every brutal thrust.

“I’m gonna cum just watching this,” Dani groans. “God, the way he’s fucking her—fuck—fuck, it’s so hot—”

Then Hanni leans over, and suddenly spit on Minji's chest, you quickly spread the saliva across her breasts.

“Cum for him, you dirty slut,” Hanni growls, breath panting against Dani’s neck. “Show us how much of a whore you really are.”

Minji moans louder as she feels her climax approaching, legs locking around your waist.

“I’m gonna cum—I’m gonna fucking cum—don’t stop—don’t stop—break my pussy!”

“Cum on my cock,” you grunt, one hand fisting in her hair, dragging her head back to stare at you. “Fucking soak me, slut—show them how filthy you are—”

Danielle’s shaking, Hanni clutching her tight. They’re grinding hard, kissing messy, watching with wide eyes, their fingers slick between each other’s legs.

Minji throws her head back, screaming now, her voice raw and shaking.

“i’m—fuck—i’m cumming—cumming on your cock—FUCK—”

Her pussy clamps down so hard it feels like she’s trying to crush your cock, her whole body locking up under you as she cums with a high, shattering scream. Her legs kick, back arching, hips jerking uncontrollably while the orgasm rips through her. She’s gushing, soaking your thighs, her nails digging bloody little half-moons into your back as her climax pulses again and again.

Dani cries out right after, burying her face in Hanni’s neck, trembling violently as she cums from the overload, from watching, from the friction of Hanni’s thigh. Hanni moans with her, shuddering, her fingers a blur on her clit as she tips over too, riding it out pressed tight to Dani’s writhing body.

The room’s just noise and panting now. Bodies twitching. Sheets soaked. Minji clinging to you, shaking, still twitching from the aftershocks as you ease the rhythm, your cock still buried deep.

She blinks up at you, dazed, lips parted in a wrecked little smile.

“Holy fuck,” she breathes. “That was… I’ve never cum like that. That was insane.”

You smile down at her, brushing sweat-slick hair away from her face, and kiss the tip of her nose. “You’re amazing,” you whisper.

She grins back, breathless, totally fucked-out. “No, you’re amazing.”

Then, suddenly, the mattress dips with sudden weight—Hanni and Danielle throw themselves between you two like kids cannonballing into a pillow fort, squealing with laughter, bare skin slapping bare skin, limbs everywhere. The bed bounces, a tangle of heat and sweat and giggles. Minji yelps when Hanni’s ass lands half on her thigh, still sensitive and overstimmed, but she’s laughing too, breathless and glassy-eyed, her body so limp she can barely squirm.

“Fucking hell,” Dani gasps, rolling onto her side and flopping over Minji, one hand resting lazily on your thigh. “I came so hard just watching you get fucked like that.”

Minji whines from under her, flinching a little, but nods hard. “I think I died for a second. Like actual blackout, heart-stopping sex-death.” She exhales sharp through her nose, a breathless chuckle buried in the sound. “Worth it.”

Then Hanni slides up, straddling your hips with zero hesitation, her knees pinning you to the sheets as her still-slick thighs nestle against your waist. Her face is flushed, her whole body glowing, shining under the haze of sweat and soft lamplight. She looks ecstatic, and a little drunk in the most adorable, chaotic way. Her bangs are damp, sticking to her forehead, and she’s got that grin spreading across her face like it’s about to consume the whole room.

“I told you bitches,” Hanni says, proud as hell, glancing down at Minji and Dani with a theatrical flick of her head. “Wasn’t it a great fucking idea to bring him?”

Minji, still flat on her back, groans out a slow “Yes,” dragging the syllable like she’s still processing the concept of words.

Danielle raises a hand like she’s making a toast, except it’s just a floppy little wave. “Seconded. Fuck, I vote he comes on every vacation now.”

“All in favor?” Hanni smirks, her hands already tracing slow circles on your chest.

All three girls mumble some variation of “Yes,” “Fuck yes,” “Holy shit yes,” and “Best decision ever,” their voices tangled with giggles and half-moan whimpers. Hanni laughs, pleased with herself, rocking her hips once against you just to feel your cock press between her thighs.

“Relaxation achieved,” Minji murmurs.

“Ten outta ten stress relief,” Dani adds, now curled sideways into Minji’s body, pressing soft kisses under her jaw, lazy little nuzzles full of leftover lust.

Hanni leans forward and kisses you hard. She tastes like sweat, rum, the faint tang of her own arousal. Her lips are needy, tongue teasing, confident in a way that hits different now, knowing she’s been watching you wreck her friends all night.

“You’ve been saving some for me, right?” she whispers into your mouth, grinding her hips once to feel the drag of your cock against her pussy lips. She’s soaked already, slick enough that even that little motion has your length sliding up between her folds, warm and sticky. She ruts against it like she’s starving. “I better not be last on the rotation every time,” she mutters, her tone teasing, breath quickening.

You grab her hips, flip her onto her back without warning, and she squeals with laughter, legs splaying open instantly. Her pussy’s dripping, lips spread already, folds glistening under the light like she’s been ready for hours. She spreads her legs wider, knees bent up, feet flat on the mattress.

“Fuck,” you murmur, staring down at her, cock twitching. “You’re soaked.”

“Gee,” Hanni laughs breathlessly, reaching between her legs and spreading herself open with two fingers, hips rolling with impatience. “What can I say? Your fingers are magical. And maybe watching my friends get ruined by you for twenty minutes straight made me a little wet too.”

Danielle groans softly at that, and when you glance to the side, she’s leaning over Minji, kissing her slow and deep again. Their bodies are tangled now, legs weaving together, the soft press of tits and lips and sticky thighs. Dani’s hand is already slipping down Minji’s belly, sliding between her legs again.

But your focus is all Hanni. She looks fucking perfect laid out like this: cheeks flushed, eyes wild, mouth curved into that too-clever smirk as her fingers drift down her stomach, stopping just shy of her clit. Her other hand strokes along your abs, playful, lazy, guiding your cock into position.

You don’t slide in. Not yet. You hold your cock by the base, tapping the head lightly against her entrance. Her whole body jolts. She gasps, writhes, shoves her hips up to chase it, but you pull back, smacking it again. Wet, sloppy, loud against her cunt.

“F-fuck,” she stammers. “Don’t tease me, I’ll bite.”

You grin. Do it again. She whines, arching her back now, her chest heaving as the head of your cock slaps against her clit once, then again.

“I want it,” she gasps, needy. “I want your cock, please—I’ve been waiting—fuck, just give it to me—”

“You’re sure?” you murmur, teasing the head just barely inside her now, watching her hole flutter.

“Fuck you,” she laughs breathlessly, grabbing your arms. “Yes. Yes yes yes! shut up and fuck me already!”

You thrust.

She screams.

“Ohh my GOD—” she wails, her legs wrapping tight around your waist as your cock plunges into her. She’s tight and wet and so warm, her walls clenching around you like her pussy’s been sculpted for this exact moment. She grabs your shoulders, nails digging in, eyes wide and unblinking.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she gasps, “Why is it so big—why do you feel so fucking good—”

You start to move, hips rolling deep, then harder, setting a brutal pace that rocks her whole body against the bed. Her tits bounce with every thrust, her arms flailing slightly before settling around your neck, clinging on like she’s holding on for dear life.

“Oh my god, oh my god—don’t stop,” she babbles, her head tipping back into the sheets, voice cracking. “That’s it, that’s it—fuck me just like that— ruin my pussy—break it—”

To your left, Dani’s moaning again, grinding against Minji’s thigh, her lips locked with hers in another sloppy kiss. “She’s so fucking loud,” Minji mutters between kisses, smirking against Dani’s mouth.

“She’s so fucking hot,” Dani whispers back. “You see her tits? Fuck, I’d cum just watching her ride a pillow—look at her take that cock.”

Minji laughs, biting Dani’s lower lip. “Jealous?”

“A little,” Dani admits, shivering. “I wanna eat it after he cums in her. Wanna taste it leaking out.”

Hanni hears them. She fucking hears them.

Her eyes fly open, head snapping toward them, mouth open in shock and lust.

“Y-you bitches,” she moans, “talking about licking my pussy while I’m getting wrecked—what the fuck—”

Minji giggles, still breathless. “You like it?”

“I love it—” Hanni screams, hips bucking up to meet your thrusts. “I love being used—I love being watched—I love this cock—”

You fuck her harder. The whole bed shakes. Her moans turn to sobs.

Hanni's body is shaking beneath you, drenched in sweat, soaked between the thighs, every thrust of your cock squelching loud and obscene inside her dripping cunt. She's gripping the sheets now, knuckles pale, nails curled into the fabric like she's hanging on for her fucking life. Her tits bounce with each brutal drive of your hips, hair clinging to her forehead, lips swollen and spit-slick. Her moans are higher now, sharp and stuttering, her head tossing back against the mattress like she's trying to pull oxygen out of the ceiling.

And then she gasps it out—hoarse, frantic, barely audible over her own breathless cries:

“Choke me.”

Your eyes snap down to hers. She’s flushed and wild-eyed, panting, her legs squeezing around your waist like she’s trying to lock you in.

“Choke me,” she begs again, voice cracking. “Like you did to Minji—don’t stop fucking me—just do it, please.”

You don’t hesitate. You slide your hand up her throat, fingers wrapping snug around her neck, feeling the slick pulse of her heartbeat jump against your palm. You squeeze, not too hard, just enough to tilt her eyes up into that fluttery haze, to make her mouth fall open as her breath catches. You don’t slow your hips for a second. You fuck her through it—hard, deep, fast—your cock pounding into her cunt with relentless, savage rhythm. She's wetter than ever, her pussy creamy now, coating your shaft in a sticky mess that smears across her inner thighs, dripping down to stain the sheets.

Hanni's moaning uncontrollably, every thrust driving a noise out of her throat that’s part whimper, part scream, part this fucked-up little giggle, like she’s drunk off the whole experience. Her pupils are huge, mouth open, body writhing beneath you, and she’s so far gone she doesn’t even notice Dani crawling up beside her until cool fingers brush between her legs.

“Sensitive, huh?” Dani murmurs, breath warm against Hanni’s cheek, her hand sliding casually between her thighs. Two fingers find her clit, swollen, throbbing, and the second Dani touches it, Hanni shrieks.

“Fuuuck—Jesus, Dani—don’t—no wait—yes—”

You don’t let up on her throat. Her eyes roll back as you thrust harder, your hips slapping against hers while Dani circles her clit with slow, deliberate cruelty, watching her best friend unravel with a smirk on her lips.

“She’s losing it,” Minji says from the other side, grinning as she straddles Hanni’s arm. She leans in close. “Open your mouth, Han.”

Hanni’s tongue slips out instantly, lips parted, slack with submission.

Minji spits.

A thick, glistening string lands directly on her tongue, messy and wet. Hanni moans around it, head swimming, throat still tight in your grip, the added weight of saliva pushing her even further into that blissed-out place where everything feels too much and not enough at once.

Minji doesn’t even wait. She grabs Hanni’s face and kisses her, hard, filthy, tongue sliding deep, their moans tangled and breathless. Hanni groans into it, writhing between both girls and your cock like she doesn’t know who to fuck first. She’s a mess, her thighs trembling, clit twitching under Dani’s fingers, and every time your cock slams into her, her pussy gets wetter, creamier, soaking your balls in hot slick.

“She’s gonna cum,” Dani whispers, breath hitching as she teases Hanni’s clit harder now, pressing down just right. “Feel that twitch? She's fucking close.”

“She’s right,” Minji breathes against Hanni’s mouth. “Come on, Han. Let it go. Cum on that cock.”

Hanni's voice is wrecked now, thin and broken and so needy. “Please—please don’t stop—don’t stop—I’m close—I’m fucking cumming—”

You growl into her ear, choking her just a little harder. “Cum on my cock, Hanni. Let me feel that pussy explode. You want that? You wanna cream all over me like a filthy little toy?”

She nods frantically, can’t speak, her mouth open in a wordless sob, Dani’s fingers working her clit with practiced cruelty.

“Cum for him,” Minji hisses. “Be good and fucking cum—”

And Hanni breaks.

Her back arches like she’s being electrocuted, legs clamping around your waist, mouth dropping open in a scream that rips through the whole room. Her pussy clamps down on your cock so hard it’s like her body’s trying to hold you hostage, waves of thick, wet pleasure rolling through her. She cums hard, sobbing out her orgasm, twitching with every thrust as you keep fucking her through it, her cream pouring out of her, mess coating your cock, her thighs and the sheets under her ass.

She doesn't stop trembling. Doesn’t stop moaning. And you don’t stop fucking her.

Hanni’s still pulsing around you when the next wave hits. You haven’t let up, not for a second, driving into her with rhythmic, punishing strokes that slap skin on skin, each one dragging out another broken moan from her wrecked throat. She’s quivering under you, thighs wide open, one hand curled helplessly in the sheets while the other claws at Dani’s wrist where her fingers haven’t stopped circling her clit. Minji’s straddled across Hanni’s chest now, hands massaging her tits, thumbs brushing over her rock-hard nipples, leaning down to whisper filth directly into her ear as the whole bed shakes with the force of your fucking.

“You’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?” Minji teases, breath hot against her cheek. “Gonna squirt all over him this time, huh? Gonna make a goddamn mess, baby.”

The second orgasm hits her like a seizure. Hanni's whole body jolts under you, nails raking down your back as her thighs clamp tight around your waist, hips bucking wildly against your thrusts. Her head snaps back against the pillows, mouth falling open in a ragged, “Oh my fuck—I’m cumming again!” It comes out broken, strangled, voice cracking under the weight of it. She doesn’t even make it halfway through the sentence before she starts squirting, pussy gushing around your cock in warm, wet pulses. You feel the spray splash your stomach, your thighs, her own trembling legs soaked through as the sheets go from damp to absolutely flooded. Her eyes roll up, half-lidded and glassy, lips twitching like she’s trying to form another word but all that comes out is a stuttering,

And you keep fucking her through it. Not slowing down, not backing off, pistoning your hips like you’re chasing the end of her orgasm with your cock, hitting her soaked, clenching walls again and again and again. The way she tightens around you now, fluttering with overstimulation, it’s so wet, so fucking wet, the friction slick and obscene, your skin smacking into hers with loud, slappy sounds that echo off the walls. Her whole body is twitching, like you’ve fried her circuits.

Danielle is still there, hand locked between Hanni’s trembling thighs, rubbing tight little circles on her clit with her middle finger. "That's it baby, let it out—fuck, look at you," she breathes, her face flushed, biting her bottom lip as she watches Hanni writhe under the three of you, caught in some endless high.

Minji’s on the other side, leaned over, one hand cupping Hanni’s tit like it belongs to her, squeezing gently as her mouth latches onto the other. You catch the way her cheeks hollow, tongue flicking over Hanni’s nipple as she sucks and hums, her free hand petting down Hanni’s thigh like she’s trying to soothe her through the intensity. Hanni can’t even form words anymore, she just lets out this strangled, sobbing Hhhhnnnn- as her whole body spasms through another round of squirting.

You barely register the groan that slips out of your throat, deep and thick and right from your gut. Her pussy is squeezing the cum out of you, she’s wringing you dry just by twitching on your dick, and you can feel it boiling up in your spine, your balls drawing up tight, the edge rushing you like a freight train.

“I’m gonna cum—” you grunt, head dropping against Hanni’s shoulder, barely managing to hold yourself up on shaking arms.

Danielle doesn’t even hesitate. “In her,” she says immediately, low and breathless, her fingers never stopping. “Fuck, cum in her, she needs it—just look at her—”

“She’s on the pill,” Minji gasps, licking a line across Hanni’s tit. “She told us. Do it. Fill her the fuck up—”

Hanni nods frantically beneath you, her thighs still locked around you, dragging you deeper. “Please—please cum inside me—fuck—I want it—”

You snap.

The orgasm rips through you so hard your whole body shudders, hips jerking as your cock throbs inside her, buried to the base. You swear out loud as the first spurt of cum floods into her, thick and hot, coating her insides. She gasps like she feels every pulse of it, her pussy clenching greedily around your cock. Another spurt, and another, and another, so much cum you can feel it pooling deep inside her, coating her walls, no resistance at all, just warmth and wetness and her moaning like it’s the best thing she’s ever felt.

“Mmm—yes yes yes—fuck me full,” she babbles, arms wrapped tight around your shoulders, her whole body shaking under you. “God—it’s so warm—you’re cumming so much—feels so good… feels so fucking good, babe.”

You collapse against her for a second, chest heaving, forehead resting in the crook of her neck, cock still twitching inside her. You can feel how full she is. You don’t even need to pull out to know you’ve filled her past capacity.

And when you do ease back, sliding out slow with a wet noise that makes Hanni gasp and twitch, the mess you’ve made is instantly obvious. Your cum spills out of her immediately, a thick, creamy line drooling down the split of her lips, smearing across her inner thighs and the ruined sheets below. She whimpers at the loss of you, hips instinctively lifting like her pussy is begging to stay full.

But Danielle and Minji aren’t letting it go to waste.

“Holy shit,” Danielle mutters, eyes glued to the way your cum leaks from her. “Look at that—fucking flooded her.” She doesn’t wait. She leans down, dragging her tongue from Hanni’s slit all the way up to her clit in one long, slow, filthy lick, groaning around the taste. “Mmmff—fuck, that’s good…”

Minji’s already there beside her, bracing one hand on Hanni’s thigh as she leans in from the opposite side. “Save some for me,” she says, then pushes her face into the mess, licking greedily at the slick between Hanni’s folds, tongue flicking in quick, deliberate strokes that make Hanni squeal, hips jerking helplessly. “Oh my god—I can’t—”

Her pussy’s too sensitive now—every touch makes her flinch and whine, her thighs trembling uncontrollably. But she doesn’t tell them to stop. Her hands are fisted in the sheets, pulling tight as she moans through it, a whimpery, overwhelmed sound. “F-fuck—feels—too good, oh my god—fuck—Minji, Dani—” She writhes as their mouths keep working her, slurping the mixture of cum and slick straight from her pussy.

Danielle’s moaning into it, low and needy, like just tasting it is enough to get her off. Her tongue circles Hanni’s clit with practiced precision while Minji focuses lower, licking at your cum as it seeps out in slow, obscene dribbles. Every now and then they pause to kiss each other, mouths shiny and sticky with the mix, tongues sliding together, moaning softly into each other like they’re drunk on it.

And you? You’re leaning back on your knees, dick still half-hard and twitching as you watch it all. Completely transfixed. The scene in front of you is the filthiest, hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Your cum, their mouths, her pussy still fluttering and leaking, Hanni's body jerking with aftershocks, eyes glassy and half-lidded as she pants like she just ran a marathon. The way Danielle and Minji trade licks and moans like it’s the best dessert they’ve ever tasted.

They kiss again, deeper this time, cum-slick lips meeting with soft sounds, tongues tangled, and then Danielle leans down to kiss Hanni, pressing their mouths together gently, almost sweet despite the filth surrounding them. Minji follows, kissing along Hanni’s jaw, then catching her lips in another soft, slow kiss, her hand stroking Hanni’s side like she’s trying to comfort her back down from the high.

Hanni’s whimpering into their mouths, too overstimulated to return the kisses properly but too wrecked to stop them. Her whole body glows, skin flushed, damp with sweat and sex, her thighs still trembling where they’re spread wide on the soaked mattress. Her lips part against Danielle’s and Minji’s in turn, gasping faint little sounds into each kiss, shivering with every touch like her body’s still vibrating with afterglow.

You slide into the warm space between the tangled pile of girls, fitting yourself into the curve of Danielle's back while Minji is practically draped over Hanni’s front. You're all slick, sticky, and utterly spent. Hanni stirs slightly, letting out a long, contented sigh without opening her eyes. "Mmm," she murmurs drowsily. "This... this is life." Minji makes a soft sound of agreement against Hanni's shoulder. "Best spring break," she mumbles, her words slightly slurred. "Already the best." Danielle shifts slightly and props her head up on her hand to look over at you and Hanni. "Seriously," she whispers, “this is... epic. We totally need to remember this." Suddenly, her eyes light up with a typically Danielle-esque, slightly chaotic idea.

"Wait! Selfie!" Before anyone can protest, she's reaching carefully for her phone, which somehow ended up tangled in the sheets near the edge of the bed. She fumbles with it for a moment, squinting at the screen in the dim light filtering from the hallway. "Okay, everyone look... wrecked!" she instructs, holding the phone at arm's length, angling it to capture the messy, exhausted pile of naked bodies. You manage a weak smile. Hanni cracks open one eye, peering suspiciously at the phone. Minji is barely conscious. Danielle snaps a quick picture, the flash momentarily illuminating flushed faces, tangled limbs, messy hair, and the general beautiful disaster zone of the bed.

"Perfect," Danielle declares, reviewing the shot with a satisfied smirk. "Definitely one for the... private collection." Hanni yawns hugely. "You better not be putting that on your OnlyFans, Dani," she mumbles. Danielle laughs softly. "Chill, Han! God no. This one's just for us. A little souvenir of maximum stress relief achieved."

You blink, processing that. "Wait, you have an OnlyFans?" you ask, genuinely surprised again. Danielle grins, completely unbothered. "Uh, yeah? Started it last year. Pays way better than that shitty campus bookstore job." She shrugs. "It's totally anonymous, though. No face, mostly just artsy body shots, feet pics... you know the drill. Helps pay for tuition. And, uh, ridiculously fun spring break trips." She winks. Hanni lets out another enormous yawn, snuggling closer to you. "Okay, fun talk later," she murmurs, her eyes already closed again. "So tired. Need... shower. Sleep. In that order."

Danielle nods. "Yeah, probably a good call. I feel like I ran a marathon." Minji makes a noise of agreement, already half-asleep again. Slowly, reluctantly, the cuddle pile disbands.

Showers are taken, brief and functional this time, washing away the lingering stickiness. Towels are wrapped, weary goodnights are exchanged, and everyone retreats to their respective rooms (or, in your and Hanni's case, collapses back onto the now slightly less chaotic bed, with new sheets, of course). Sleep claims you almost instantly, pulling you down into a deep, dreamless, and much-needed oblivion.

—

The next morning arrives with the subtlety of a jackhammer inside your skull. Your mouth feels like the bottom of a birdcage, and a vicious migraine is pounding behind your eyes. Fuck, that cheap tequila and those endless cocktails definitely caught up with you. You groan, rolling over carefully, and realize the other side of the bed is empty. Hanni's gone. The sheets beside you are cool. You glance down at yourself; yep, still completely naked. Clearly, exhaustion trumped any thoughts of pajamas last night. Hauling yourself upright feels like a monumental effort. You swing your legs over the side of the bed, your head protesting violently. Clothes. Need clothes. You find your shorts and a t-shirt from yesterday crumpled on the floor and pull them on, feeling a little more human.

Leaving the relative darkness of the bedroom, you venture out into the main living area, squinting against the bright daylight flooding in from the balcony. Danielle is sitting at the kitchen counter, slowly sipping from a large mug, looking surprisingly put-together despite the previous night's debauchery. Her hair is damp, and she’s wearing fresh shorts and a tank top.

"Morning, sunshine," she greets you, her voice quiet, sympathetic. "Rough night?"

You grunt in response, shuffling towards the counter. "Something like that. Migraine from hell."

She pushes a mug towards you. "Figured. Made coffee. Black and strong. Should help."

You take it gratefully, the warmth seeping into your hands, the bitter aroma promising some relief. "Thanks, Dani. You're a lifesaver. Where's, uh... everyone else?" Danielle takes another sip of her coffee. "Hanni and Minji woke up disgustingly early. Said something about wanting to hit that little boutique we saw yesterday before it got crowded. Apparently, Minji spotted a dress she 'absolutely needed'." She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "I told them they were insane, but you know Hanni when she gets an idea. I was still half-dead, so I stayed."

You nod, taking a cautious sip of the hot coffee. It scalds your tongue but feels necessary. "Makes sense," you manage. You lean against the counter, the events of the previous night slowly filtering back through the hangover haze. "So, uh," you start, feeling slightly awkward bringing it up in the harsh light of day, "OnlyFans, huh? Still kinda surprised." Danielle just shrugs, swirling her coffee. "Hey, gotta pay the bills, right? College ain't cheap, and honestly? It's kinda empowering sometimes. Plus, like I said, totally anonymous. No one I know knows it's me. It's just... content." She gives you a small smile. "Helps pay for fun shit like this trip, too. Worth it."

You finish your coffee, the caffeine slowly starting to chip away at the edges of the migraine. "So, what's the plan for today? Just wait for them to get back?" Danielle sets her mug down. "Actually," she says, turning on her stool to face you fully. "I already have plans. And I kinda need your help." You raise an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What's up?" She leans forward slightly. "Remember I told you about my OF? Well, I need new content. And while researching stuff to do here, I found this amazing little beach, super secluded, like, you gotta hike a bit to get there? Supposedly the lighting in the late morning is incredible." She pauses, looking at you expectantly. "And?" you prompt. "And," she continues, a slow smirk spreading across her face, "I need a photographer. Someone I trust. Someone who... appreciates the subject matter." She holds your gaze. "Interested in helping a girl out?"

The implication is clear. A secluded beach, just the two of you, and she needs photos for her OnlyFans. You think about it for a second. It sounds incredibly daring, potentially awkward, but also... intriguing. And she did seem pretty convinced last night you could 'handle the workload'. "Okay," you say slowly. "Yeah, okay. I can play photographer. As long as it's really secluded." Danielle beams. "Perfect! Trust me, it is. I'll grab my phone. You can have breakfast on the way. Let's go."

—

True to her word, the hike isn't trivial, involving a winding path down a jungle-covered hillside, but the destination is worth it. It’s a small cove, maybe fifty yards across, bookended by dramatic volcanic rocks, with fine white sand and impossibly clear turquoise water. And most importantly, it's completely empty. Just you, Danielle, and the sound of the gentle waves.

"See?" Danielle says triumphantly, gesturing around. "Told you. Totally private." She drops her beach bag onto the sand. "Okay, so here's the deal," she says, turning back to you, suddenly all business. "These pics are definitely for the site. Which means... no bikini." She meets your eyes, gauging your reaction. "You cool with that? Just shooting me... all natural?" You swallow, feeling a familiar heat stir despite the lingering hangover. It's ballsy as hell, but she seems completely confident, and the setting is undeniably private. "Yeah, Dani," you manage. "I'm cool with it. Whatever you need." Her professional demeanor cracks slightly, replaced by a genuinely pleased smile. "Awesome. Okay then." She reaches for the hem of her tank top. "Let's make some art." She hands you her phone, then, without further ceremony, she pulls off her top, then quickly shimmies out of her shorts and panties, leaving them in a small pile on the sand.

She stands before you completely naked, bathed in the bright Caribbean sun, her toned, athletic body looking even more incredible than it did last night. She runs a hand through her long hair, taking a deep breath, then strikes a pose, looking out towards the ocean. "Okay, photographer," she says, glancing back at you over her shoulder, a playful smirk on her lips. "Do your thing."

You lift the phone, centering Danielle in the frame. Even through the small screen, she looks incredible. The bright Caribbean sun highlights every curve, every plane of her toned body. The turquoise water and white sand create a perfect, almost impossibly vibrant backdrop. "Alright," you call out, trying to sound professional despite the slight tremor in your hand, "Hold that pose. Perfect." Click. The first shot is captured. Danielle flows smoothly into another pose, turning slightly, tilting her head back to catch the sun. Click. She's a natural. Not just comfortable naked, but seemingly energized by it, owning the space, owning her body. You start directing her a little more, moving around to get different angles. "Okay, walk towards the water slowly," you suggest. She obeys, her tight ass flexing with each step as she walks away from you towards the gentle waves lapping at the shore.

You snap several shots of her back, the curve of her spine, the way the sunlight kisses her shoulders. "Stop there," you call out when the water is just swirling around her ankles. "Turn back towards me." She does. The water sparkles around her feet. Click. Click.

"How about by those rocks?" she suggests, pointing towards a cluster of dark volcanic boulders at one end of the cove. "Yeah, good idea." You follow her as she makes her way over, her bare feet sinking slightly into the wet sand. She leans against one of the larger rocks, the dark, rough texture contrasting sharply with her smooth, pale skin. She tries different poses; leaning back casually, arching her back slightly, running a hand slowly down her own flat stomach, tracing the line of her incredible abs. You capture it all, zooming in sometimes to focus on the details, the way a drop of water traces a path down her side, the taut curve of her small, perky breast, the intense look in her eyes. She's ridiculously photogenic; the camera absolutely loves her.

Every angle seems to work, every casual movement looks like a deliberately sexy pose. And yeah, she's hot as absolute hell. Seeing her like this, completely bare, owning her sexuality so confidently for her 'work', is incredibly arousing, hangover be damned. You take shot after shot, finding interesting angles, playing with the light and shadows created by the rocks. She lies down on the warm sand near the water's edge, letting the shallow waves wash over her legs, arching her back, pushing her breasts towards the sun. You get low, capturing the image from just above the sand, her body stretched out, glistening, utterly captivating. This is definitely prime OnlyFans content. You keep shooting, losing track of time, completely absorbed in documenting every stunning inch of Danielle's naked body against the breathtaking backdrop of the secluded St. Lucian beach.

After what feels like an hour, maybe more, under the relentless Caribbean sun, you finally lower the phone. "Okay," you say, wiping a bead of sweat from your brow. "I think... I think we got it. Seriously, Dani, there's some amazing stuff here." You quickly scroll through the gallery, showing her a few highlights: a dramatic shot against the black rocks, a sensual one of her lying in the surf, a playful one where she's laughing, completely unselfconscious. Danielle crowds close, peering at the screen, her naked body brushing against your arm. "Holy shit," she breathes, her eyes widening. "Okay, yeah. These are... wow. Way better than trying to do timer selfies." She grins, looking genuinely pleased. "See? Told you I needed a good photographer." She gives your arm a grateful squeeze. "Thanks. Seriously. You're a lifesaver... and apparently, a pretty decent cameraman.

She starts gathering her clothes. "Gonna take forever to edit these, gotta crop out my face perfectly from every single one, but yeah. Definitely some good material here for the paying customers." She dresses quickly, the easy confidence returning as she pulls her tank top back on. “Okay, now let's get out of here.”

—

Back to villa, the fresh breeze of the forest is a godsend. You push through the door to find Hanni sprawled belly-down across the couch in a striped towel, hair tied up, face buried in the phone, as usual. Minji’s by the kitchen counter, eating sliced mango with a fork straight from the plate, wearing one of those comfortable breezy linen rompers.

“There they are,” Hanni says without looking up. “Did you two fuck on the beach?”

You blink.

Danielle grins and drops the bag on a chair. “Nah. Not this time.”

Minji raises an eyebrow. “So you did something.”

Danielle walks over and steals a piece of mango from her fork. “Only art, babe. Just art.”

You toss your shirt over a chair and drop down beside Hanni on the couch, her legs still damp from a rinse, bare skin sticking to the cushions. She shifts to make room, tucking herself under your arm. The rest of the day? Exactly what vacation should be. Drinks with stupid garnishes. Cheap sunglasses from the tourist shop down the hill. Hanni drags everyone to a food stand she found on Instagram that sells jerk chicken so spicy you end up chugging a full bottle of water before Minji, smug as hell, offers you a frozen guava drink she “accidentally” ordered two of.

You all climb some rocky bluff for photos, Hanni nearly falling off trying to get the angle with the sun behind her, and then hit the beach again—this time, public, packed with bodies, neon umbrellas, inflatable flamingos bobbing in the surf. No one fucks around there, obviously, but you do get to watch Danielle sunbathe topless under the guise of “European energy” while Hanni builds a sand mermaid around Minji’s legs.

By sunset, everyone’s back at the villa, glowing with sunburns and exhaustion, eating too much grilled pineapple from the BBQ stand down the road, and drinking straight from the rum bottle.

And Danielle? She’s been scheming. “Guys,” she says, emerging from her room with a devilish smile and a small, suspiciously plain brown box. “I did a thing.”

Hanni’s stretched across the living room rug in a bikini top and boxers, licking popsicle juice from her wrist. “Oh fuck. What did you buy.”

Danielle drops the box on the table with a thud. “This,” she announces, “is a gift. For Minji.”

Minji looks up, cautious. “That’s never a good sentence.”

Danielle just grins wider. “Trust me. You’ll thank me later.”

She opens the box. Nestled inside is a harness and a thick black strap-on. Smooth. Matte. Very... obvious in intention.

Minji’s eyes go wide. “Dani—”

“You’re always saying you wanna be more adventurous,” Danielle cuts in. “Well. Here’s your chance.”

Hanni perks up immediately. “Wait—wait. Are we doing this? Are we really doing this?”

You just raise an eyebrow. “So, what—four-way? Again?”

Danielle shrugs, already unbuckling her belt. “Obviously.”

—

It only takes one session for Minji to flip the switch.

She doesn’t just “get used” to the strap-on. She fucking thrives with it. Like something dormant inside her wakes up the second she feels the harness hug her hips, the weight of the cock bouncing between her thighs as she moves. At first she still blushes when she straps in—adjusting the buckles, fiddling with the position—but the more she fucks the girls and more she watches you using your cock, the more natural it looks. The way she grips Hanni’s hips now, steady, confident, using slow, grinding thrusts to make her whimper and squirm. The way she plants her feet wide when Danielle sinks down onto her lap, hands clamped hard around Minji’s shoulders, riding the strap until she’s gasping for air.

The first time she makes Hanni cum with it, Minji looks stunned. Hanni's legs are shaking, her body seized up in a full-body tremble, soaking the fake cock and moaning so loud you swear the neighbors heard it. Minji freezes for a second, hands still clutching Hanni's thighs, watching her fall apart.

“I—fuck—did I do that?” Minji stammers, chest heaving.

Danielle, lying sprawled out naked across the bed, just smirks. “You wrecked her, Minji. Fucking legendary.”

Minji starts to grin—huge, uncontrollable—and something settles into her shoulders. After that, there’s no hesitation anymore. She starts owning it, moving with this slow, relentless rhythm that’s honestly almost scarier than being jackhammered—because she knows exactly what she's doing now. How to hit the right angles. How to roll her hips just right so the pressure builds and builds until Hanni's clawing at her back or Danielle’s begging to cum or you're watching in awe, wondering when the fuck she got so dominant.

She talks more too, low and quiet, the kind of dirty talk that makes your dick twitch without needing to shout. Grabbing Hanni by the throat while she’s riding her and murmuring, “Yeah, take it all, baby. Take it deeper. You can take it, I know you can.” Bending Danielle over the kitchen counter and growling, “You’re not done yet. You stay there ‘til I say.”

One afternoon, Minji’s got Hanni pinned against the wall outside the bathroom, towel half-falling off her body, the harness peeking out under the loose shirt Minji never bothered taking off. She's grinding into Hanni’s pussy slow and mean, Hanni’s hands scrabbling at her arms, thighs trembling. You and Danielle just stand there watching like total pervs, fresh out of the shower, dripping wet, unable to look away.

"Fuck, Minji," Danielle says, voice low and breathless, eyes wide. "You're so fucking hot like this."

Minji flashes a shy smile at that—just for a second—before grabbing Hanni’s face in one hand and kissing her hard enough to shut her up mid-whimper. She keeps fucking her against the wall, slow and steady, until Hanni melts into a sobbing orgasm right there, the towel falling to the floor.

Later that night, Minji's sprawled on the bed, sweaty and exhausted, the strap still hanging off her hips, her head turned toward you. "I get it now," she says, voice hoarse. "I fucking love it. Being the one... giving it." She laughs, breathless. "It's... it’s like being drunk on power."

And you grin back, still half-hard just from watching her ruin the girls one by one. "Told you it suits you."

Minji hums, smug now, one hand idly stroking down her own thigh. "Think I'm gonna make this a regular thing."

She does.

It becomes routine, almost. Minji taking the lead, pulling the harness on with slow, confident movements, snapping the straps tight around her waist like armor. Danielle bending over for her without a second thought. Hanni climbing into her lap like it’s her seat. You swapping with Minji sometimes, tag-teaming—her in Hanni’s ass while you fuck her pussy, or you both working Danielle over until she’s crying, too full to move, babbling nonsense.

You and Minji develop this synergy without even having to talk about it. She reads your cues, you read hers. If she pushes in slow, you pound harder. If you slow down to edge one of them, she speeds up, relentless, keeping the pressure high until the girls are shaking and begging to cum again.

One night, you’re double-penetrating Hanni on the couch—Minji behind her with the strap-on buried deep in her ass, you fucking her pussy from the front. She’s sobbing between you, thighs quivering, toes curling into the couch cushions.

"Too much," Hanni whimpers, eyes rolling back.

"You love it," Minji breathes against her neck, thrusting deeper. "You're fucking made for this."

Hanni chokes on a scream when you both bottom out at the same time, the sensation overwhelming her. She squirts hard, drenching both your thighs, her body convulsing violently.

Minji kisses the side of her face, slow and almost tender. "Good girl," she whispers. "Such a good fucking girl."

You pull out after, letting her collapse into a shaking heap, and Minji strokes her hair while you both watch Hanni twitch and whimper through the aftershocks.

Danielle gets it worse the next night—Minji holding her down by the back of her neck, forcing her to stay in position while you fuck her raw. She’s drooling onto the sheets by the time you both finish, legs too weak to even close around you. Minji pulls out first, tugging the dildo free with a wet pop, and you thrust a few more times before cumming inside Dani, filling her pussy with heat and making her moan brokenly into the pillow.

"Fucking ruined," Danielle mumbles, slurred, dazed. "God... best spring break... of my fucking life."

Hanni, half-asleep nearby, giggles and claps weakly. "Praise be... to the stress relief committee..."

Minji just laughs, rolling onto her back, tossing the harness onto the floor like a discarded trophy.

You lie there, muscles sore, cock still twitching faintly, staring at the slow-turning ceiling fan overhead. Listening to the girls’ soft laughter, their satisfied little sighs as they drift closer to sleep.

—

Every single day melts into the next, sharpening your purpose here until it's diamond-hard. You're not just the guy Hanni brought along for stress relief anymore, not just the dude who can fuck them right, though you definitely excel at that. No, you've become something more fundamental to their vacation ecosystem: their favorite tool. Their dedicated service dom. The one who instinctively knows Hanni needs her ass slapped harder without asking, the one who sees Danielle adjusting her position for a better filming angle and holds her steady, the one who helps Minji adjust the strap-on harness until it sits just right across her hips.

You listen; not just to the words, but to the hitches in breath, the clench of muscles, the flicker in their eyes. You read the damn room, anticipating needs, fulfilling fantasies they barely knew they had until you offered them up. You act without needing to be told twice, a silent understanding passing between you, yet you always ask before crossing a new line, checking in with a low murmur, "Like this?", "Harder?", "Tell me what you want." Your entire fucking existence on this island has distilled down to facilitating their pleasure, maximizing their release, ensuring their needs are met above all else. And the crazy part? They’ve leaned into it like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like you were specifically designed and delivered just for them, their perfect, obedient, pleasure-giving machine.

Hanni is, unsurprisingly, the boldest, the most demanding in her casual ownership. She doesn’t really ask for things so much as state facts, her requests delivered with the breezy entitlement of someone ordering room service. She’ll stretch out naked on the sun-drenched sheets after a lazy afternoon nap, legs spread slightly, and just murmur, "Eat me," without even looking up from her phone. And you? You're between her thighs before the words fully register, nose buried in her heat, tongue already tracing patterns against her clit. "Mmm, yeah," she sigh, dropping her phone and tangling her hands in your hair, grinding her hips down against your face. "Just like that, fuck... don't stop." Her tone is always low purr, punctuated by sharp gasps and breathy giggles as you work her over. "God, your tongue is fucking magic... right there..."

She rides your mouth like she owns it, hips bucking, controlling the pressure, whispering filthy encouragements—lick me harder, faster, yeah, suck my clit, make me cum—until she inevitably shatters. She always comes fast and hard when it’s just your mouth, twitching all over, thighs clamping around your head like a vise, hips giving one last desperate jerk before she collapses, panting, demanding you lick her clean until the last aftershock fades. "Good boy," she sigh, patting your head dismissively, already reaching for her phone again.

Danielle, true to her director's eye, is more methodical, more precise in her desires. She knows exactly what she wants, how she wants it, and isn't shy about articulating it. She’ll pause mid-sentence while talking about editing software, catch your eye, then step directly in front of you, blocking your path. "Tits," she state simply, pulling your face towards her bare chest (because clothes are increasingly optional in the villa). "Suck ‘em. Feeling sensitive today, need the pressure." You obey instantly, palming her small, firm breasts, taking a nipple into your mouth, licking, sucking gently at first. She watch your mouth on her skin with unnerving focus, then bite her lip. "Harder," she command, her voice dropping an octave. "Use your teeth a little. Yeah." You adjust immediately, pulling harder, grazing the soft skin with your teeth just enough to make her gasp, her breath catching sharply. "Fuck... yes," she whisper, eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

Listening to her is like hearing a porn script being dictated by the star who's also directing—incredibly specific instructions: "Okay, now circle the left one with your tongue, slower... yeah... now bite the right one, just a pinch..." mixed with genuine, breathless reactions "Shit, that feels good... oh fuck, keep doing that...". It's never fake, though; it’s just her being hyper-aware of her own body, meticulously guiding you towards the sensations that make her feel incredible, that get her off exactly the way she wants.

And Minji? Sweet, surprising Minji is all about the exploration, the learning. She watches everything. She observes the way you hold Hanni's hips when you fuck her from behind, the exact pressure Danielle likes when you suck her nipples, the rhythm that makes Hanni scream the loudest. Then, later, when she straps on the harness, and you help her, making sure the straps are snug, applying the lube generously, your fingers slow and firm against her skin as you check the fit—she mimics what she's seen. She’ll look down at you, eyes wide with concentration and a flicker of that newfound dominance, adjusting the thick black cock slightly. "Will you guide me again?" she ask, especially those first few times. You nod, kneeling beside her and Danielle, or her and Hanni, placing your hand over hers on the base of the dildo, coaching her on the angle, the depth. "Slow," you murmur, "Let her take it... yeah, now push deeper... feel how she clenches?" You guide her through the initial thrusts until she finds her confidence, until her hips start moving with a steady, powerful rhythm of her own.

Then you switch, and she watches intently as you take over, pinning Danielle face down, pounding into her just a little rougher than Minji dared, making Danielle shriek and beg for more. Minji studies the angle of your hips, the grip of your hands, the look in Danielle's eyes, absorbing it all. And guaranteed, the next time Minji has Danielle begging beneath her, she'll incorporate that exact move, that specific rhythm, pushing her own boundaries, feeding her appetite for control, the intoxicating power of inflicting overwhelming pleasure.

They ask. You give. Simple as that. Hanni needs a foot massage while Danielle films Minji eating her out? Done. Danielle needs you to hold the camera steady with one hand while fucking her with the other, whispering specific dirty phrases she thinks her subs will like? No problem. Minji wants you to tie her wrists loosely to the headboard with one of Hanni’s discarded bikini tops while she rides you, just to see what it feels like? Absolutely. Your purpose is service, and damn, you're good at it.

And Danielle’s phone camera is practically a fifth member of the group now, always seemingly lurking, always potentially rolling. Her OnlyFans project becomes a collaborative effort, fueled by exhibitionism, alcohol, and a shared desire to capture the raw heat of their vacation. It's her body, her rules, her creative vision directing the shots, but you and the other girls are willing participants on both sides of the lens. One ridiculously lazy afternoon, sunlight streaming into the master bedroom, Danielle drags the big floor mirror from the corner, positioning it carefully near the foot of the bed to capture reflections, different angles. She hands you her phone, already set up on a small, flexible tripod she apparently packed.

"Okay," she says, stripping off her sundress and panties with zero fanfare. "New concept: POV masturbation, but like... make it art." She climbs onto the sheets, positioning herself facing the mirror, legs spread invitingly. "Just film what turns you on," she instructs, meeting your eyes with a challenging grin. "Focus on the details. If it gets you hard watching it, trust me, it'll be hot to them."

So you film. You position the phone on the tripod, focusing tightly. Her fingers, slick with her own wetness, parting her swollen lips. The way her clit peeks out, already hard and glistening. You follow her hand as she starts rubbing, slow circles at first, then faster, more insistent pressure. Her soft gasps, the way her hips begin to tilt rhythmically off the sheets. You pan up slowly, lingering on the taut muscles of her stomach quivering, the rise and fall of her small breasts. You zoom in on her throat as she swallows hard, her neck arched, then her mouth, lips parted, panting softly. Then, needing to be closer, needing to participate, you let the phone carefully on the tripod, ensuring the angle is still good, and kneel on the bed beside her. You reach out, sliding two fingers deep into her wet heat.

She gasps sharply, eyes flying open, locking with yours in the mirror's reflection. "Is this... part of the plan?" she breathes out. A smirk touches your lips. "Say stop if you want me to." She doesn't. Of course, she doesn't. Instead, she arches her hips harder, pushing herself onto your invading fingers. "Fuck..." The shot captures everything, your hand moving rhythmically, her fingers now frantically working her clit, her thighs shaking. "Oh god... yes," she moans, her voice climbing higher. "Keep going... don't stop... fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing—oh yes—right there—" When she finally comes, tipping over the edge with a strangled cry, the phone capture every second. Her whole body clenching, her toes curling, her stomach trembling violently, a final sob escaping her lips before she collapses back onto the sheets, panting, a dazed, blissful smile spreading across her face. Later, showered and wrapped in towels, she watches the raw footage back, legs curled under her on the sofa. "Holy fuck," she whispers finally, looking up at you. "Okay. Yeah. That'll definitely sell."

Minji even overcomes her lingering shyness enough to get properly in front of the camera, albeit usually with Danielle directing and Hanni providing enthusiastic, often obscene, commentary from behind the lens. One night, after way too much rum, Danielle sets the phone up on the nightstand, framing the bed perfectly. She immediately climbs onto her back, pulling Minji down on top of her, hooking her knees over Minji’s shoulders, already wet and giggling. "Okay, Action!" Hanni yells, hitting record with a flourish. "Make her moan loud, Minji! I want everyone on this island to hear her being a whore!" Minji, strapped securely into her harness, hesitates for only a second before fucking down into Danielle, slow and deliberate at first. Dani whimpers instantly, toes curling. "Shit—Minji—already? Fuck—don’t stop—" she gasps out, arching her back, her small breasts bouncing with every deep thrust.

You’re kneeling beside the bed again, playing your assigned support role, one hand stroking Danielle’s trembling thigh, the other finding her clit, rubbing tight little circles, perfectly syncing your rhythm with Minji’s steady pace. Danielle is shaking, completely overwhelmed, by the time she cums, moaning loud enough to satisfy even Hanni, clenching hard around the silicone cock, the whole raw, intimate scene captured perfectly. Danielle edits it later, adding soft filters, cutting just before faces are fully visible, layering some innocuous indie music over the raw audio. The result is surprisingly beautiful: intimate, intensely sensual, undeniably dirty, and utterly compelling.

You even manage to film the DP scene Hanni keeps drunkenly demanding. It takes coordination, lots of lube, and Danielle being incredibly greedy and wrecked on cocktails. She’s face down, ass up, babbling incoherently, drool dampening the pillow beneath her cheek as Minji carefully slides the thick strap-on into her tight ass while you simultaneously fuck her pussy from behind. It’s intense, borderline chaotic. "Easy, easy," you murmur, coaching Minji on the angle while your own cock stretches Danielle’s cunt. Minji leans over Danielle's back from behind, whispering dirty talk directly into her ear, "Such a good girl for us... taking both our cocks... look how stretched out you are..." Your hands grip Danielle’s waist, trying to hold her steady as she bucks and moans beneath the double penetration.

You manage to keep the phone propped on a pillow relatively steady, switching hands when one starts to cramp, capturing the overwhelming sight of Danielle being thoroughly used, completely filled. She begs you both not to stop. You don't. Not until she’s screaming, coming so hard she probably does forget her own name, her body convulsing violently between you. Capturing that raw, uncontrolled release feels like a sacred, filthy duty.

Sunlight slants through the windows in the mornings, illuminating the beautiful wreckage; bite marks blooming on inner thighs, faint scratches down someone's back from frantic gripping, lube streaks drying on bare skin, discarded clothing forming abstract sculptures on the floor. You clean up together, making coffee shirtless, wandering naked onto the balcony to check the surf. Touch is constant, casual, affectionate, possessive. Hanni grabs your ass possessively every time you walk past the sofa where she’s lounging. Minji presses a soft, unexpected kiss to your cheek while you're both reaching for the orange juice. Danielle sits on your lap without warning, and you automatically wrap your arms around her waist.

They don’t just use you. They like you.

You’re part of the group now. Not just Hanni’s secret hookup. Not just a vacation fling.

You’re theirs. Just like they’re yours.

—

The last couple of days in St. Lucia take on a slightly different energy. The frantic exploration and hedonistic frenzy ease into a slower, more savoring pace. There's an unspoken awareness that the bubble is about to burst, that the real world with its deadlines and responsibilities looms just beyond the horizon. You spend the final afternoon on your favorite stretch of beach, not doing much of anything, just floating in the impossibly blue water, sharing a bottle of lukewarm rosé smuggled from the villa, soaking up the last rays of Caribbean sun. Packing later that evening is a subdued affair. Clothes smell faintly of salt, sand, and coconut sunscreen. Souvenirs are carefully wrapped. Danielle meticulously backs up the hundreds of photos (both SFW and very NSFW) from her phone onto a portable drive. Minji stares longingly out the balcony window, while Hanni seems unusually quiet, a thoughtful expression on her face.

You all gather on the balcony for one last sunset, cheap beers in hand. The sky explodes in fiery oranges and purples over the lush green hills. For a while, no one speaks, just watching the spectacle, lost in thought. "Well," Danielle says finally, breaking the comfortable silence, "That didn't suck." Her tone is light, but there's an undercurrent of genuine emotion. Minji nods, leaning her head against Danielle’s shoulder. "It was..." she searches for the word, "...perfect. Even better than I let myself imagine." Hanni sighs dramatically, taking a long swig of her beer. "Best. Idea. Ever," she reiterates, bumping her shoulder against yours. "See? You guys should always listen to me." She looks around at the group, her expression softening. "Seriously though... this was amazing. All of it." You feel a surge of gratitude, mixed with the bittersweet pang of the trip ending. "It really was," you agree, looking at each of them in turn. "Seriously, guys... thanks. For letting me crash your girls' trip. For..." You hesitate, unsure how to articulate the rest; the acceptance, the adventures, the incredible sex, the unexpected connection. "...For everything. It was fucking incredible."

Danielle reaches over and squeezes your knee. "Are you kidding? You surviving us was the incredible part." She laughs. "Couldn't have done it without our resident stress-reliever slash photographer slash obedient dom." Minji smiles warmly. "Yeah. It wouldn't have been the same without you. You just... fit." The easy acceptance in her voice makes something warm settle in your chest. It feels true. Somewhere between the shared drinks, the tourist traps, the tangled sheets, and the drunken confessions, the dynamic shifted irrevocably. Hanni nods, though a familiar possessive glint enters her eyes. "Okay, okay, group hug, whatever," she says, waving a dismissive hand, though she leans closer against you. "But let's be clear," she adds, poking you in the ribs, her tone mostly playful but with an edge of seriousness, "He's still my property, technically. I found him first. First dibs still apply indefinitely."

Danielle and Minji burst out laughing. "Oh my god, Hanni!" Danielle exclaims. "Still calling dibs? After everything?" Hanni shrugs, trying to look nonchalant but failing. "Hey! Finder's keepers. Sharing is fine, but ownership is key."

You chuckle, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, Han. I remember the terms and conditions." The implication hangs there; this isn't just the end of a vacation fling. The connection forged here, the complicated, messy, exhilarating dynamic between the four of you, feels like something more permanent. The promise of future moments, future adventures, future tangled nights, hangs unspoken but palpable in this warm twilight air... Yeah, the trio is definitely a foursome now, whether Hanni wants to admit shared ownership or not.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hey 😊👋 I love your Task Force 141 Imagines and finally had the courage to request one myself:

How would they react to the trend where their partner makes dinner but gives them the bigger portion and gives themselves only a small one with the excuse that "That's all we had left" ?

(I hope you understand what I mean)

I'm about 99.9% sure you're talking about the viral TikTok trend. That's what I interpreted the ask as (which is how I wrote it). Most of the time, those videos are pretty wholesome. Sometimes they aren't. But with regards to 141, they're gonna be wholesome about it. No body shaming. Not dismissive. Just walking green flags who are also done with your shit (because pranking them is just hilarious). Anyway! Enjoy!!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (MDNI): established relationship, pranks & practical jokes, humor, fluff, married couple, mild suggestive themes

Word Count: 1k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

"Love, what is that?"

"That's all we had left."

"That's all we had left?" repeats John.

You shrug nonchalantly. There's plenty of food, enough for each of you and leftovers for tomorrow, but John doesn't need to know that...yet.

"It's fine,” you shrug. “I'm not that hungry so I gave you a bigger portion."

John's concern only worsens. "You did what?"

"I wasn’t hungry so I—"

“I heard what you said,” interrupts John. He points at your plate. “But there’s nothing on it.”

“I’ll be fine.”

"No," he says firmly, waving his hand. "No."

Without asking, he swaps your plates.

"John. Stop."

"I'm not that hungry," he says, repeating your own words back at you. "Ate more than enough at work. I don't need all this. You do."

You reach for the plate but he lifts it off the table, holding it out of reach. Part of you wants to scold him to carry on the rouse, but instead you're giggling.

"Not sure what's funny,” grumbles John.

"There's more,” you laugh, covering your mouth.

"There's—” John glances between you and the kitchen. John rolls his eyes but he's trying to hold back a smile. “You naughty fucking thing."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You place a plate piled high with food in front of Kyle.

“Thanks, babe.” He glances up at you, grinning. His gaze shifts to your plate, smile fading into confusion. You purposely gave yourself less just to see his reaction.

“I forgot forks.” You walk back into the kitchen. “You want a fork, right?”

“Yeah,” replies Kyle slowly, now pointing at your plate. “But…what is that?”

You return to the table. “That’s all we had left.”

Lies. There’s plenty left.

“But why is mine full and yours—” He gestures at your plate.

You feign confusion. “You work really hard. You need it.”

“This,” says Kyle pointing at his own plate. “Is a lot.” He then points at your plate. “That’s not.”

“It’s fine.”

“You’re taking some of mine.”

“Kyle—”

“Don’t argue with me.”

You pick up your fork, intending to eat, but Kyle is quick, snatching your plate right off the table and swapping it with his. He keeps your plate in his hand, shoving you away when you try to reach for it.

“Sit,” he commands.

“Kyle.”

He ignores you, clearing the plate in a couple of bites.

“Kyle,” you scold, but you’re giggling, dropping the guise.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks, glancing around.

Unable to keep control of your composure, you point in the direction of the kitchen. Frowning, Kyle follows your index finger. He takes a few steps into the kitchen and comes to a dead stop.

He slowly spins on his heel, his expression so exasperated that you burst out laughing. With a loud sigh, Kyle returns to the table, swapping the empty plate for the full one.

Dropping into his seat, Kyle shakes his head. “Get yourself a real portion and then come join me.” Then, with a smirk, “You little terror.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny reclines on the sofa, completely absorbed in the rugby match on the television.

With you, is dinner. Two plates, one for each of you. You’ve loaded Johnny’s plate, but have hardly filled yours. It’s just a prank. A test to see if he notices anything.

He has a knack for not paying attention to the smaller details. Sometimes Johnny is so distracted whenever there is a game on that he's oblivious to everything else around him. One time—just to see—you walked around completely naked. It took nearly a full fifteen minutes for him to realize it.

You casually take a seat next to him, offering Johnny his plate.

"Thank you," he says, taking it without removing his gaze from the television.

You keep your plate in your lap, casually moving the few bites of food around while taking incredibly small bites.

Johnny chews. Watches. Still oblivious to your tiny portion.

You purposefully bang your fork against the side of the plate.

He does a double take. "What’s that?"

"What’s what?"

"That.”

You shrug. "It’s all we had left."

With a growl that’s more groan, Johnny starts pushing his food off his plate and onto yours.

"Johnny. No. That's your food." He tuts, not saying anything. "I'm fine." you insist, trying to push his plate away.

“No, love,” says Johnny. He settles back onto the sofa and gives your cheek a quick peck.

You wait a beat. "There's plenty of food."

Johnny turns. Blinks. "Oh, aye?" He grabs your plate and dumps the food back on his.

"Johnny!"

"You’re having a right laugh.” He gestures toward the kitchen. “Go on.”

As you stand, he gives your ass a light smack. When you turn to swat his hand, you’re greeted with his cheeky grin.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The plate you set before Simon is nearly overflowing.

"Thank you, love," he murmurs, placing his hand at your back.

You lean in, giving him a quick kiss. He accepts it with a soft smile, lightly squeezing your thigh before you step away to grab your own plate.

Compared to Simon’s portion, your plate is practically empty. It’s really only a few bites, but it’s just for kicks. There is plenty still left in the kitchen. You just want to fuck with Simon.

When you set your plate down and fall into your seat, Simon’s attention immediately focuses in on the lack of sustenance.

He leans forward a bit, staring you down, silent.

“What?” you ask, pretending that this is all perfectly normal.

He keeps staring.

“What is it?” you prompt.

“No.”

No. Just—no.

You blink. "No? No what?”

Simon sucks his fork clean and tosses it onto the table, still shaking his head. You’re losing. It’s hardly started and you’ve lost.

“It’s all that’s left!”

He shakes his finger at you, walking away and into the kitchen. “I know you,” he says over his shoulder. “You’re taking the piss.”

Goddamn it.

Simon sees right through you. Always does.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

my tiktom for some reason has been showing me kiss cam videos all the time, and i just thought about how cute it would be to have a kiss cam in NRC, so i came here to make a request of kiss cam w the first years and/or the housewardens (ill leave for u to choose since ur the writer 🤭🤭)

COMMENTS: I'm not American, so all I know about Kiss Cams is what I can find on the internet and have seen in movies or something. I think the freshmen are more likely to go to a game like this than the Housewardens, which is why I chose them. And I thought it would be more fun with them.

This also doesn't takes place in NRC, but somewhere in the stands of a game.

I hope you and all enjoy 💋

CHARACTERS: Freshmen (Ace Trappola / Deuce Spade / Jack Howl / Epel Felmier / Sebek Zigvolt)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Kiss (duh)

WORD COUNT: An average of 390 words per character

In case you don't know what this is and according to Wikipedia: “The kiss cam is a social pastime that takes place during arena, stadium and court sporting events in the United States and Canada. A 'kiss cam' camera scans the crowd, and selects a couple, their images being shown on the jumbotron screens in the arena.”

CONTEXT: All five of them would have some kind of interest in watching a game live, and of course, they really wanted you to go with them. Obviously you sit next to the guy you like the most and it seems like the Kiss Cam loves seeing the two of you together.

The break arrived and the Kiss Cam was announced. Having the Kiss Cam choose the two of you was kind of something Ace already wanted to happen. They started choosing couples and showing them on the giant screen in the middle of the stadium when Sebek asked what that was and what kind of purpose it had. Ace and the others explained to him (and to you if you weren't familiar with it either) what it was.

You see the couples on the huge screen in the center of the stadium and you notice that the camera is quite fast and imagine the pressure that the people may feel when the camera is pointed at them.

You see that most of the chosen people kissed without any problems and were laughing, having fun with it. Those who weren't couples either made a negative gesture with their hand or found a funny way to get around it, like kissing the cup of drink they had instead.

And then it happened! Ace was distracted arguing with Sebek for being boring for only complaining about that cam when you nudged him to attention. You point at the screen, he looks and see the two of you.

He was immediately flustered and laughed awkwardly. It all happened very quickly. He looked at you with that same smile, but with an encouraging vibe. Understanding that you showed no signs of opposing the kiss, he put one of his arms around your shoulders, leaned in and kissed you. It was only two or three seconds, but you felt his lips pressing against yours with some intention. People applauded.

He'll keep his arm around you and watch your reaction. When he sees you smile and lean toward him, he'll lean back in his chair and let you lean against him however you want. He won't take his arm off you for the rest of the game.

“What? Jealous?” He smirks at the other four who are looking at you in disbelief. And he'll even kiss you on the cheek again to intensify their shock.

After the game he would receive a nosy call from his brother.

The break arrived and the Kiss Cam was announced. They started choosing couples and showing them on the giant screen in the middle of the stadium when Sebek asked what that was and what kind of purpose it had. Deuce and the others explained to him (and to you if you weren't familiar with it either) what it was.

You see the couples on the screen and notice that the camera is quite fast and imagine the pressure that the people may feel when the camera is pointed at them.

You see that most of the chosen people kissed without any problems and were laughing, having fun with it. Those who weren't couples either made a negative gesture with their hand or found a funny way to get around it, like kissing the cup of drink they had instead.

And then it happened! Deuce was distractedly agreeing with Sebek about it being a bit intrusive when you nudged him to attention. You point at the screen, he looks and see the two of you.

Deuce was immediately flustered and embarrassed! People around you encouraged you to kiss. Even Ace messed with Deuce, insinuating that he didn't have the courage, not even for a kiss on the cheek. It was then that you felt a quick and shy kiss on your cheek.

But people wanted more because they realized you liked each other and everything was happening very quickly. However, Deuce didn't want to move forward because he didn't know if you wanted too. He's not very good at understanding your signals. So you're the one who leans over and kisses him. People applauded.

This makes him petrify in surprise. He blinks several times until he finally looks at you. When he sees you smiling, he smiles back and can't stop himself from kissing you back. Not because of the camera, because they had already passed on to another couple, but for himself.

“OI! It's done! The camera is no longer on you.” Ace said in a 'get a room' kind of tone.

Deuce suddenly straightened up as if he had come back to reality and felt a little embarrassed, but he didn't regret it at all.

After the game he would receive an excited call from his mother.

The break arrived and the Kiss Cam was announced. They started choosing couples and showing them on the giant screen in the middle of the stadium when Sebek asked what that was and what kind of purpose it had. Jack and the others explained to him (and to you if you weren't familiar with it either) what it was.

You see the couples on the screen and notice that the camera is quite fast and imagine the pressure that the people may feel when the camera is pointed at them.

You see that most of the chosen people kissed without any problems and were laughing, having fun with it. Those who weren't couples either made a negative gesture with their hand or found a funny way to get around it, like kissing the cup of drink they had instead.

And then it happened! Jack was distractedly agreeing with Sebek about it being a bit intrusive when you nudged him to attention. You point at the screen, he looks and see the two of you.

Jack’s ears immediately lowered in surprise and flusteredness. He rubs the back of his neck when he sees you looking at him, waiting to see what he would do. With all that pressure mixed with your expectant gaze and his desire to do it, he placed one of his hands on the back of your neck and kissed you. People applauded.

It was a quick kiss, one or two seconds, but very affectionate. However he remained embarrassed, he was not a fan of public displays of affection. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, looking away from you and down at the floor.

Ace and Epel started messing with him until you leaned on his shoulder. Only then did Jack's tail start wagging. Now rest assured that the feelings were mutual he put an arm around you.

After the game he would most likely receive an excited and curious call from his parents.

The break arrived and the Kiss Cam was announced. They started choosing couples and showing them on the giant screen in the middle of the stadium when Sebek asked what that was and what kind of purpose it had. Epel himself knew little about it because he had never been to one of those stadiums and had only heard about it, so he was one of those who listened to the explanations of others.

You see the couples on the screen and notice that the camera is quite fast and imagine the pressure that the people may feel when the camera is pointed at them.

You see that most of the chosen people kissed without any problems and were laughing, having fun with it. Those who weren't couples either made a negative gesture with their hand or found a funny way to get around it, like kissing the cup of drink they had instead.

And then it happened! Epel was distractedly agreeing with Sebek that it was a stupid thing that served no purpose other than being embarrassing when you nudged him to attention. You pointed at the screen, he looked and saw the two of you. Epel practically jumped in his chair.

“WHAT IN TARNATION?! ARE YOU FREAKIN’ KIDDIN’ ME?!”

At first he is completely against it until you look at him and he realizes that the pair the camera chose for him was you. At that moment he fell silent and pondered, blushing. The people around were encouraging him and you were looking at him with an expectant look yourself. With all that adrenaline he simply leaned in and kissed you almost abruptly. People applauded.

It was a relatively quick kiss, a second or two, and then he straightened up again, all his muscles tense and his face flushed. You couldn't help but giggle, finding it cute. He sulked seeing you laugh at him.

“Hey! At least I didn't chicken-”

You shut him up and reassure him with a kiss of your own. When you broke the kiss he was still looking at you in surprise, but with a new confident glint in his eyes. He laughs and puts an arm around you to hug you.

After the game, two calls will clash to reach Epel's phone: one from his grandmother and the other from Rook.

The break arrived and the Kiss Cam was announced. They started choosing couples and showing them on the giant screen in the middle of the stadium when Sebek asked what that was and what kind of purpose it had. The others explained to him (and to you if you weren't familiar with it either) what it was.

You see the couples on the screen and notice that the camera is quite fast and imagine the pressure that the people may feel when the camera is pointed at them.

You see that most of the chosen people kissed without any problems and were laughing, having fun with it. Those who weren't couples either made a negative gesture with their hand or found a funny way to get around it, like kissing the cup of drink they had instead.

And then it happened! Sebek was distracted arguing, mainly with Ace, about it being just another stupid human custom with no purpose or sense when you nudged him to attention. You pointed at the screen, he looked and saw the two of you.

 Sebek almost jumped in his chair, but he was firm in putting his foot down (almost literally) and refusing. At first. He couldn't have been more sure that he didn't want to take part in that nonsense, until he saw the way you looked at him. Suddenly an indestructible pillar of certainty wavered, realizing that the pair the camera had chosen for him was you.

People were already booing sadly until they saw him hesitate and go back to trying to encourage him to kiss you. Only now had he begun to blush.

After that, everything happened very quickly. He looked at you with his arms crossed from before, now undecided whether to keep his decision or not, and the pressure from the people was joined by Ace and Epel, insinuating that he didn't even have the courage to give you a kiss on the cheek.

Seeing from your expression that you were not objecting, he said: “VERY WELL THEN!” Held your head by the chin with one hand and kissed you decisively. People applauded.

It was a relatively quick kiss, a second or two, but you could feel his passion on his lips. However, when he broke the kiss, he didn't take his face away from yours for a good while, letting you admire his piercingly navy green eyes for a moment.

He straightened up and crossed his arms again as he suddenly remembered he was in public. He looked away from yours and chose to close his eyes instead of simply looking down or ahead.

“There! I partook of your silly ritual.”

The others will tease him until you reach out to give him a kiss on the cheek and he widens his eyes in surprise. Despite this, he will continue to contain himself, but will allow you to lean on him however you want.

After the game he will receive an extremely curious call from Lilia.

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[thesvnandthemooon]

𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

a/n: published this on wattpad a while ago. someone said i should upload it here as well so here it is :)

summary: natasha romanoff x married!reader; nat and you used to be in love. now, years later, you're married to a wealthy man and have a daughter with him. will running into natasha change everything? (not the best description but you get the point)

warnings: none (i think)

word count: 4.9k

part 1, part 2, part 3…

✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷

— THE ART GALLERY —

Nude-colored stilettos hit the concrete, the ground underneath still slightly wet from the rain earlier. Two little feet, clad in white ballet flats, follow. You feel a warm hand slip into yours, tugging lightly.

Nina stares at you, her eyes wide and her hand clutching the little stuffed bear she carries everywhere. Despite being used to this kind of extravagance, she's overwhelmed — and you definitely can't blame her.

A long red carpet stretches out in front of you, leading up to the entrance of the art gallery. People with cameras everywhere, the frenzy of flashing lights and clicking noises enough to irritate you. Sleek entrance doors that are open wide, allowing the chatter of the people inside to waft all the way over to where you're standing.

The large windows of the gallery glow warmly, casting a golden light onto the lush grass surrounding it. It's a modern building, long and almost box-like. Not what you would've picked, but it's not like anyone's asking you anyway.

This is Ethan's dream. It's an investment he made. It's — just like you and the girl holding your hand — more of a status symbol than anything else. Theres not much passion behind this, as its main purpose is to project sophistication and attract alliances among elite circles.

Circles you never wanted to be a part of.

What are you even doing here?

You thank your driver before closing the door of the black sedan, then you crouch down in front of Nina. You smooth her hair down with practiced elegance, catching the look in her eyes.

"It's loud", she states, pulling the teddy to her chest. "Where's daddy?"

"He's inside, honey." You straighten back up, adjusting your silk slip dress. An emerald color, matching the deep forest green of Nina's velvet attire. "You ready?"

"Yes!" She grabs your hand again, suddenly seeming more like the usual, confident child she is. At least someone isn't completely dreading the upcoming few hours, which surely will be spent making pointless smalltalk and eating food you can't even pronounce.

You smile at her, then you take a deep breath. Silently steeling yourself for the evening, you finally make your way up to the entrance.

A few staff members in chic evening attire linger by the door, greeting arriving guests and bowing ever so slightly as they recognize you. You smile, hoping they can't sense how nervous you are. Nina stays close by your side, the soft padding of her feet the only thing that's keeping you grounded in reality right now.

Honestly, part of you doesn't know what you're doing here. You're supporting your husband, sure — but, again, this is his project. You weren't involved in this in the slightest. Hell, you didn't even know about it up until two months ago, when he suddenly confessed to buying this building in the heart of Tribeca.

You were confused, as you couldn't believe he'd keep this a secret for so long. It's a big investment, after all, and you thought he'd include you in something like this.

As always, his response was defensive; it was the usual shtick of "it's my money and I'm allowed to do what I want with it and you don't care about my work anyway" — something you've heard too many times. You eventually decided to drop it, finding that an argument at 6 in the morning would be pointless and only lead to more issues.

What you're seeing now is the outcome of his idea to invest in something that's even more extravagant than his luxury condos in Manhattan.

White walls and high ceilings, a clean and polished interior. Spotlights highlight the artwork — large-scale abstract paintings, photographs of New York landmarks taken at unique angles, vibrant pop art pieces.

Nina's eyes are even wider than yours. She starts bouncing on the spot, her hand squeezing yours.

"Mommy, mommy! A bear!"

Of course. That damned bear painting, displayed right at the beginning of the main wall. It's there because of Nina, because he desperately wanted to tell everyone how he kept his daughter's favorite emotional support toy in mind for this. It's both cute and infuriating, because you're well aware that your child would rather see her dad than some abstract piece of art that vaguely reminded him of that stuffed animal.

"Looks like Bearie, hm?", you reply, gently coaxing her further into the room. You're trying to get away from all the prying eyes. You're sure you've been recognized by now.

"Yes! But it's pink. Why is it pink? Bearie isn't pink."

"No, he isn't." You shake some older woman's hand, offering her a polite smile.

Nina keeps chattering happily, taking in all the sensations around her. Classical music floating from hidden speakers, the guests — a predictable assortment of New York's elite — all dressed in tailored suits and couture dresses. The laugher is quiet but rich, as expected; you don't hear a single genuine sound apart from your daughter's little voice.

"Mommy, look! It's shiny", she whispers with a small gasp, pointing at a twisting metal piece that's catching the light just right. She's enchanted by the sculpture. At least someone here is genuinely interested in art.

"Good observation, bug", you whisper back, gently nudging her further into the room.

Unbeknownst to you, a familiar redhead stands at the far edge of the gallery, her back to the crowd and her eyes scanning over the art displayed in front of her.

. . .

Ethan places his hand on your lower back, a gesture that feels like it's rather about keeping you at a distance than having you close. Nina reaches for his sleeve, pulling at it.

"Daddy? Can we-"

"Honey, I'm talking", he says firmly, briefly touching her hair before straightening up again. In front of you is a man who's (apparently) quite important. Richard Harrington, a renowned art collector and critic, balding and in his late 60s. "Mr. Harrington, I'd like to introduce you to my wife, Y/N, and our daughter Nina."

"Pleasure to meet you", you say dutifully, shaking his hand. Nina just stares at him, slowly beginning to hide behind your leg.

"Likewise." Harrington glances at your child, who's clearly not fond of him. He clears his throat, plastering a small smile on his face. "I trust Ethan has been keeping you well acquainted with the art world?"

"Of course", you say politely, giving a short nod. You glance at Nina as her hand twitches in your grasp, her patience clearly waning. She's a child — environments like this one, forced and restricted, are the furthest from what fits her spirit. "Just a moment, sweetheart."

Nina huffs, giving the man another last, scrutinizing glare. Her hand slips out of yours during a short moment of carelessness — you're too focused on appearing both friendly and charming, trying to make this Harrington-guy think you're some picture-perfect family.

Then you realize that the warmth of your daughter's hand has gone missing from yours. Starting to panic, your eyes immediately sweep across the room. It's not that big of a building, but it's dark outside, and you really don't want to lose her in this flock of people. Thankfully, you manage to catch a peek of her velvet dress as it disappears behind a corner.

"Sorry, she- she loves art a little too much for her own good", you apologize, stepping away from your husband and the art mogul. Ethan clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

"Kids, you know", he says, smiling stiffly, as you've already started to go and catch up to your daughter.

Nina has always been a little artist. She carries crayons and small notepads wherever she can, drawing random stuff while sitting in the back of the car or while waiting for her food in restaurants. She'll stop whenever she sees a sculptures, asking increasingly specific questions until you're on the verge of despair. Her drawers are filled with 'art supplies' — leaves, buttons, washi tape — and the walls of her bedroom are full of her drawings. Her love for everything creative is the only reason why you appreciate your husband's decision to invest in this gallery.

Her eyes get stuck on the painting that a woman with red hair is looking at. Nina chews on her lip as she sees the info panel underneath, the amount of letters too overwhelming for her not even four year old brain to string together into words yet. She swiftly grabs the hand of the woman next to her, deep green eyes meeting her own.

For a moment, Natasha feels like she's looking at someone she met in what feels like another life. The same features, the same eyes, the same little frown on her face. So sweet, so familiar, digging up memories that she buried years ago.

Beneath the soft spotlights, Natasha's face is framed in surprise. Something vulnerable flickers through her eyes as she studies the child. She masks her surprise fairly quickly, but she still feels taken aback.

"Miss? Can you read this for me?" Then, sounding hopeful, the girl adds: "Please?"

Natasha nods, crouching down next to the child without thinking twice. This is surely a coincidence, she thinks, glancing over her shoulder. Then her eyes skim over the short text printed on the info panel, her hand still holding the girl's absentmindedly.

"It's called 'Whispers of the Wind'", she reads aloud, her usual detached tone softened. "Painted by an artist named Ciara Han. It's supposed to remind you of the sound trees make when the wind moves through them."

Nina smiles at her and Natasha feels herself falter once more. She knows that smile.

No, correction: knew. She knew that smile.

"Thank you!", Nina whispers like she's sharing a secret, still refusing to let go of the woman's hand. She has no clue who she is, but she was nice enough to read the info panel to her, and to her toddler-brain that automatically means she's a friend.

"You're welcome. But you shouldn't go walking around talking to strangers", Natasha says gently, her eyes filled with concern. "Where's your-"

"There you are!" You hurry over, breathless and apologetic, and put your hands on Nina's shoulders. The little girl looks up at you, only now letting go of the woman's hand. "You can't just wander off like that", you chide softly.

Ready to apologize to the woman next to your daughter, you look up from the child's face.

Nothing could have prepared either of you for this moment.

The eye contact sucks you back into a past you believed to be long buried, one you'd rather forget. Your breath hitches, her mask crumbles. Raw emotions, brief as the flicker of a candle, both of you too stunned to say something at first.

"Natasha", you finally say, still looking like you've just seen a ghost.

"It's been a while", she replies simply, straightening up. Navy blazer and a matching skirt, high heels that accentuate her calves. Red lips, red hair. Effortlessly stunning, as always.

You clear your throat, looking at Nina to distract yourself. "This, uhm- this is my daughter."

Nina looks back at Natasha, whose name she now knows. "Are you and my mommy friends?"

"Something like that."

You shoot her a small, bittersweet smile, gently tugging Nina to your side. "Didn't think you'd be into art, if I'm being honest."

Natasha smiles slightly, glancing at the row of paintings next to you. Han's 'Whispers of the Wind', Kozlova's 'Boundless Skies', Monroe's 'In the Absence of Time'.

No, she isn't into art. Never really has been, if she's being honest — she enjoys literature much more. A good book, maybe. That's her thing. She can't tell you why she's actually here, though.

"Didn't think you'd be, either", Natasha says, loosely clasping her hands together.

"I'm not", you admit, causing Nina to give you an offended look. "This art gallery? It's my husband's, actually. I'm just here to...support him, you know."

All of a sudden, it's like someone turned on a light switch in Natasha's head. A look of realization crosses her face. Y/N Bailey, wife of investment banker Ethan Bailey — she'd skipped that part carelessly, not deeming it of any significance. The name had been familiar, but the surname was enough to make her forget about it.

Now, she feels stupid for not checking.

"Right", she says slowly, looking at Nina again. Her eyes soften. "She seems to like it quite a bit, though."

"I know." You glance at your daughter, remembering how you found her; next to a crouching Natasha, listening to her as she read the info panel to her. "By the way, did you say thank you?"

"I said thank you." Nina nods earnestly. Natasha and you smile simultaneously, your eyes locking. Then, short lived lightheartedness of the moment vanishes like smoke.

You chastise yourself for even beginning to think that it's nice to see her again.

"Well, I'm not going to hold you up any longer. Enjoy your evening."

"You too", you say quietly, making your daughter look at you with a puzzled expression.

. . .

— BEHIND CLOSED DOORS —

Your days have been the same ever since Nina was born. More or less, anyways.

Coffee and checking the news while your daughter's asleep. Time that feels hollow, spent alone since Ethan leaves an hour before you wake up. You've convinced yourself that you're used to it, that it'll change eventually. He loves you, you love him — one day, you won't feel as lost as you do right now. All you've got to do is push through and fight for this.

Next on the agenda: showering. Waking Nina up and getting her ready for the day. Breakfast together, then driving her to preschool.

You miss her as soon as you're back in the car, her seat now empty. She'll be gone for the next few hours, which means that the hardest part of your day is about to start.

You'll do anything to kill time — go grocery shopping, do the laundry, make sure the house is nice and clean. You never envisioned yourself as a stay-at-home wife (and sometimes, you can't believe that this term is very much accurate now, whether you want to admit it or not), but here you are. Cleaning, picking up things for Ethan, doing stuff around the house.

You feel pathetic for despising a life you willingly chose. Guilt is a constant visitor, dwelling in your mind like an annoying little fly you can't shoo out of the house. Worst of all: you feel like Nina deserves better. You try your hardest to be the mom she deserves, but you can't help but feel like you're failing her in ways you can't quite put into words.

Frustrated, you buckle up and start the car. There's a sense of silent camaraderie as all the parents (mostly moms, of course) finally start to empty the parking lot in front of the preschool. Some of them are going to work, others are spending the day like you.

Despite the fact that you're not that different all, you still feel like a complete outsider.

You turn up the music as you continue driving without a specific location in mind. Your fingers drum against the steering wheel anxiously, betraying your quiet humming. Self-soothing never really worked for you.

Without your consent, your mind starts conjuring up images from last night. One thing they all have in common is Natasha.

You haven't seen her in so long. Six years, maybe even seven, have passed since your breakup. You spent all that time forgetting what you had, tucking it away so it's safe and sound, trying to get over her.

You are over her, aren't you?

You love Ethan, after all. You married him — the ring on your left hand is proof of that — and even had a child with him. He's everything you could desire in a person, but he's also nothing you ever wanted.

Sometimes, you have the feeling that you fell in love with an idea rather than the man himself. He's hard-working, ambitious, with a keen eye for prestige and profit. You secretly believe he thinks of his marriage to you as yet another achievement, something that looks good on paper. And while he does love Nina, it's also obvious that he just doesn't enjoy being a father the way you hoped he would.

Wealth, luxury, status — a family, held together by money and responsibility. Just thinking about it makes your skin crawl, especially when you remember how different it was with Natasha.

Natasha wasn't easy, and neither were you, but it was real. It was genuine affection, quiet understanding, raw love — soft and sweet and haunting.

There's a reason why it took you so many years to forget — and all it took was running into her for you to remember it all.

You look up, realizing where you've been driving. You slow down, your heart hammering, your eyebrows knitting in confusion.

The Avengers Tower looks different. The logo is gone, replaced by the words Stark Industries — glowing in neon lights, of course — and the building in general has changed. The logo, the sleek design, the parking lot where you once saw the Quinjet come and go.

Your stomach drops. You can't resist the temptation to pull over, so you do just that. Your fingers shake as you unbuckle, then you hesitantly get out of the car to confirm what you just saw.

The Avengers are gone. They've moved, moved on, moved to god knows where, a location you can't even begin to guess. You didn't keep in touch, you let the distance grow, and now there's no way for you to find Natasha.

Stop. You blink a few times, shaking your head and mentally slamming your foot down on the brakes. Your thoughts have taken an unwelcome turn, a dangerous one at that. You shouldn't mourn something that slipped from your fingertips years ago, not when you've finally settled into your own life.

Natasha isn't your reality anymore. She's your past — which is something no one will ever be able to take from you —, but nothing more.

The leather of the driver's seat is still warm when you sit down, but the hollow feeling in your chest won't leave.

. . .

"Look, mommy."

Nina is standing in front of you, holding out yet another drawing. You put the folded jeans aside before gently taking it from her, making sure not to accidentally crease the paper. The last time that happened, it ended with her throwing a tantrum.

"Wow, that's amazing", you praise her, still inspecting the drawing. It's your parental duty to commend every piece of art she hands you, but you're also genuinely impressed. The castle she drew is surprisingly realistic, at least if you consider the fact that she's not even four years old. "You even added a princess!"

"That's Rapunzel", she explains, her finger lightly poking at the blonde-haired figure. She even remembered to add that signature long braid. "Can I show daddy?"

You hesitate, passing the drawing back to her. "Daddy's working, honey."

"Please?", she begs, pouting. "I be quick."

"You'll be quick, huh?" You smile softly, brushing a lock of hair out of her face. You feel bad for her — Ethan came home early, but immediately disappeared into his office. He did hug the girl right after arriving, but even that seemed hurried. "Alright, fine. Come here."

You get off the couch and scoop her up, carrying her out of the living room. You walk up the two steps that lead to the small landing, then you turn to access the main part of the staircase. Clean, minimalistic hallways that feel almost sterile, a stark contrast to the homey feel of the living area downstairs. Maybe that's the reason why your husband spends most of his time up here.

You open the door to his office, just barely catching a glimpse of him shutting down his computer rapidly. He swivels around in his desk chair, trying to appear unfazed.

"You didn't knock."

You frown, setting Nina down on the floor. She pads over to him, waving the drawing in front of his face. He glances at it, making a halfhearted sound of approval.

"I need to knock?", you finally ask, slightly disbelieving. "Are you being serious?"

"I'm working", Ethan promptly replies, patting Nina's head before nudging her back in your direction. She huffs quietly, reaching out her arms for you. You set her on your hip, your jaw clenching as Ethan continues. "You can't just burst in like that. What if I had been in a Zoom meeting?"

"Were you?", you probe, shifting your hold on your daughter.

"Does it matter?!"

"Yes, it-" You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath. No fighting in front of the kid, you remind yourself — begrudgingly. "You know what? It doesn't matter, Ethan. It really doesn't."

He watches you, his lips set in a thin line. He contemplates what to say now, how to end this short argument without riling you up further.

You raise your eyebrows, still waiting. He sighs, leaning back in his chair and ruffling up his hair.

"I'll be downstairs in ten. Maybe we can watch a movie together?"

Nina's eyes widen when she hears that, oblivious to the fact that it's just a strategy to appease you. She quickly taps your shoulder. "Oh, Tangled! Mommy, please Tangled?"

You look at her and smile, your eyes softening. You feel bad that you're even thinking this, but you can't help yourself: thank god she didn't turn out to be like him.

"Sure, honey." You turn around and leave, your voice slowly turning muffled as you go downstairs. "Help me with the popcorn?"

. . .

— IN PLAIN SIGHT —

Natasha adjusts her earrings, her eyes locking on the silver jewelry through the mirror. She reaches for some lipstick — a more natural shade, one that doesn't stand out as much — and slides on a pair of glasses.

Her bag is just full enough to not raise suspicion. A taser, miniature bugs, a parabolic microphone, USB sticks and a multi-tool lock pick set. A compact mirror and smoke pellets, a customized phone — voice modulator and spoofing app included — and a cable launcher.

Does she feel bad? Only mildly.

Only because of your connection to all of this.

Still, she can't let old feelings and sentimentality stand in the way of this. People are getting hurt, whether he wants to admit it to himself or not. He's not the one who's pulling the strings, but he's financing it.

Natasha steps out of the car, inspecting the sleek office building in front of her. High-end, in the middle of Manhattan's financial district.

Her high heels clack on the polished floors of the lobby, her manicured hands keep a tight grasp on the clipboard in front of her chest. The elderly receptionist is too distracted to pay her much attention, so she swiftly dips into the elevator, joining a group of middle-aged men.

Natasha faces the doors of the elevator, her ears picking apart every detail of the men's quiet conversation. Nothing about an Ethan or Mr. Bailey, nothing that could be of use.

The elevator dings when it arrives on the floor where Bailey's office is located. She steps out, moving through the hallways with a confident elegance that makes it seem like she belongs here. Just another coworker that's on her way to start a day filled with issuing stocks and bonding shares, making rich companies even more money.

A name tag tells her that she's found what she's looking for. She hides behind a corner, pulls out her phone and matches her phone number to the lobby desk. Finally, she dials Ethan's number.

He picks up, his voice slightly irritated after he saw who's calling. "Bailey here. What is it?"

"Mr. Bailey", Natasha says, her professional tone mimicking the receptionist's perfectly. "There's a delivery for you in the lobby. The courier insists on handing it over personally."

"Is that really necessary? I'm busy."

Natasha rolls her eyes. "It won't take long. They said it's important. Something about a painting?"

"Right, right. I'll be there in a minute."

She can hear him jump up, the door to his office suddenly opening as the phone call ends. Footsteps make their way down the hall, turning quieter until they entirely stop. The elevator doors slide open with a soft 'whoosh', confirming his current absence.

Natasha puts the phone away, then she makes a beeline for his office. Door's open — how careless.

She slips inside, her eyes immediately scanning the office. It looks like straight out of a catalogue. Extremely clean, apart from his desk which is littered with files and documents. A single, lonely plant in the corner, one family picture right next to his computer. Nina's much smaller in it, maybe a year old, but you're the same.

Aside from that, nothing personal. Nothing Nina made in preschool, no drawings, no souvenirs or trinkets. It's cold, but that's not surprising.

She turns away, discreetly planting a listening device under the desk. A micro camera is hidden between the leaves of the plant, placed strategically so he won't find it even when watering it.

Natasha doesn't have much time. Getting to the lobby, asking for the courier, and then getting back in the elevator will take approximately three minutes. She quickly plugs a portable hacking device into his computer. It bypasses the encryption and starts downloading files as she simultaneously takes pictures of the documents on his desk.

Financial ledgers, contracts, and a suspicious invoice from a shipping company. She wants to take a better look at it, but the device has finished downloading data, so she unplugs it and starts cleaning up. She leaves the office, waits for Ethan to return, and then makes her way into the lobby again.

The elevator doors shut at the exact moment you close the car door.

One hand holding Nina's and the other carrying a white paper bag, you make your way into the lobby. Natasha spots you and quickly hides behind a corner, watching you through her compact mirror. The last thing she needs now is for you to spot her and blow her cover.

"Hey, Erica. Can you watch her for a moment?"

The receptionist nods, smiling at Nina. This is a regular occurrence by now — you'll come by to bring Ethan something, and Nina will stay in the lobby to avoid getting too distracted by her father. If she sees him, you know it'll be hard to leave.

"Be good for Miss Erica, okay? Mommy won't take long", you promise her, letting her sit down on the chair next to Erica's. Nina holds onto her bear tightly, her eyes immediately zeroing in on a sticky note that's barely clinging to the frame of the computer.

You go into the elevator, pressing the button to Ethan's office. Natasha makes sure the doors have closed, then she steps out of her hiding spot. She weaves through the lobby unnoticed — until a little voice cuts through the air.

"Hey! Hey, mommy's friend!"

Natasha freezes.

Fuck. She didn't think about your daughter, or that she would recognize her. She especially didn't think she'd bother enough to come over and greet her with a wide smile on her face.

Slowly, she turns around. Nina has already padded over, her eyes wide and her excitement impossible to miss. One hand clutches her stuffed bear, the other tugs at Natasha's arm.

"Hey, kiddo", she says, briefly glancing up as Erica approaches them.

"Do you know her, sweetheart?", the receptionist asks, studying Natasha carefully. She hasn't seen this woman before, so Nina's ecstatic reaction makes her feel on guard.

"She's Natasha. She's my mommy's friend!"

Natasha directs a slightly helpless look at the receptionist before crouching down in front of Nina. She tries to calm the girl down, not wanting to attract more attention than necessary. She should be annoyed that the child decided to just run up to her and make everyone aware of her presence, but she can't help but be softened by the smile on the girl's face.

"Yes, I'm your mommy's friend", she says, trying to politely disengage. "But I have to leave, honey. I have an appointment. You know what an appointment is?"

"I do." Nina nods, still holding on to her sleeve. Natasha takes a fleeting look at the elevator again, ensuring you're still upstairs.

"Good, you're smart." Natasha smiles, not hearing the elevator doors slide open. "I have an appointment soon, so I have to hurry. Be nice and wait for your mommy, okay?"

You step into the lobby without Natasha noticing, a frown forming on your face as you realize Nina isn't in her spot by the reception desk anymore. Your eyes sweep across the room — and then you see her. It gives you a sense of deja vu, seeing a crouching Natasha next to your daughter.

First the art gallery, now this. What is going on?

You hurry over without dwelling on the thought too much, a wary look on your face. Her eyes zero in on your boots, slowly trailing up your body until her gaze meets yours.

"Natasha?"

[cavegirlpoems]

So many TTRPG people, like yourself, seem to exist in a world where players don't actually enjoy the campaigns they're in, and don't actually like playing with the people they play with, and your whole approach to game mechanics seems like it's about trying to bribe these people to continue playing at a given table.

i have no idea where you get this idea from, I play a bunch of different games - including freeform text rp, fest larps, parlour larps, regular tabletop campaigns, longform play-by-post games and narrative wargames - and I have a lot of fun doing it. I wouldn't be a game designer if I didn't actually enjoy games. The thing is, if you study game design and ttrpg theory seriously, you think about the intent behind design decisions. Game design doesn't just happen by accident, the designer put a given rule in for a reason. So, you ask yourself why the designer made the game the way it did, and what they were trying to achieve.

A significant tool for game design is considering the feedback the game provides; what behaviours that ruleset rewards and what it discourages. (You can apply this analysis to other games, too, like video games). When I'm talking about a bribe, it's in that context; how does the game reward you for doing things, and what things does it reward. (For example, 'scrabble' rewards you for playing words with weird letters in them by making those letters worth more points.)

The thing is, ultimately, every game relies on a simple proposition; that if you volunterily use its rules, you will have fun. You don't need to follow the rules, and you can have fun without them, but the idea is that using the rules will let you have more fun, or a different type of fun, than if you didn't. (For example, throwing a ball around is a bit fun, but if everybody agrees to follow the rules of basketball, you get a different experience that a lot of people prefer). So, the only bribe you're making on the interpersonal, out-out-of-game level (unless something weird is going on) is "if we play this game it will be fun". When I talk about bribes and incentives, it's *inside* the game, after we've all agreed to the game's proposition of "if you use the rules, you will have fun".

Now, what counts as an incentive varies by game. Some, like Warhammer 40k, are challenge-based, and have ways to keep score of success and victory; here, things that signify overcoming the challenge are your incentives; how you get a high score, how you win, etc. Others, like most ttrpgs, are creative-based. What constitutes an incentive within the game's structure is less precisely defined. By and large, though, these incentives tend to be things like increased agency within the game fiction, space for creative expression, and experiencing and learning about more of the game fiction. (In this structure, 'being more mechanically powerful' can be thought of as a way of granting a player more agency, because their actions are more likely to succeed and result in the outcomes that they want. If the mechanical growth is lateral as well as vertical, then how to get more powerful is - itself - a venue for creative expression in what to prioritise, which is also a reward).

In the same way that you have the adage that 'restrictions breed creativity', the same goes for Fun. Limiting your scope from anything-goes freeform by voluntarily agreeing to use a set of game rules can produce similar results. Voluntarily limiting your agency in the fiction according to a set of game rules produces a friction that players of roleplaying games find enjoyable to push against. In this context, a reward structure within a game serves the useful purpose of signposting which direction you should push to get the fun kind of friction. A game which limits your options, and then gives you more options when you engage with certain behaviours, is telling you that those are the intended behaviours. Likewise, a game that limits your options even further when you do something is encouraging you not to do that. This is because game designs are not neutral and universal, they exist to create specific experiences. A game that rewards you by giving you more space for creative expression when you get in a fight - and gives you less space for creative expression when you avoid violence - is one that wants you to engage in violence, because it's designed to be a game where you have fun by fighting. This isn't bribing the players to sit down at the table and play the game; that has already happened outside the context of the game. They have already agreed to the game's offer of 'if you use these rules, you will have fun'. Rather, this bribing is within the game-space, the games mechanics encouraging the players to engage with it as intended, in the way that will be most fun. IE: these incentive structures are a tool the game uses to achieve the promise it makes; they guide the players towards the fun that they volunteered to have. Hope that makes sense. * * * Now, your initial ask is a weird take that's entirely unrelated to anything I've posted, and - particularly from an anon account- oddly antagonistic. I don't know if you're genuinely confused about game design, or arguing in bad faith. Either way, this probably doesn't merit the small essay I've produced, but have one anyway, it's always fun to clarify my ideas in written form.

[livinghalfway]

Younger Years Pt. 8

Masterlist

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence. Word Count: 1817

“I can’t believe you stopped me from running after Danyal, Father! I pray that you do not regret that decision later on for that could have been our one chance to get Danyal!” Damian growled out as he marched into the manor. 

Bruce gave a great sigh as he followed his youngest inside, “Damian, I know you think that you saw Danyal, but we need to confirm what actually happened." 

"You saw what happened! You saw Danyal!" 

"I saw you attempting to chase after another boy." Bruce is worried for his son. It just seems very coincidental that Damian would see his brother, in the building dedicated to said brother, after telling the family about his existence. "And I think you believe you saw Danyal in that boy." 

"Did you see his face?" Damian demands from his father. 

"No." 

"Then what you think is irrelevant to me." He states as he makes his way towards the cave. With or without his father's help Damian will be finding the boy he saw today. That was Danyal, he knows it.

That thought is painful though because that means his brother purposely didn't want to seek him out after all these years. Damian supposes he can't really blame Danyal for that though, not after what their last moments together were. He just needs one chance to try and explain things. 

Upon entering the cave he sees Steph and Cass training with one another on the mats, and Tim already occupying the computer. 

"Drake, pull up all the security cameras for the planetarium building based around the two o'clock showing; outside and inside cameras!" Damian commands as he comes to stand by Tim's side. 

Tim, despite his clear annoyance at being interrupted, does as requested and asks, "Want to share with the class what I'm supposed to be looking for?" 

"Be a detective and use your eyes, Drake. You'll see it." Damian himself is watching the screen like a hawk as he waits for Danyal to show himself on any of the cameras. His brother was luckily wearing a bright red hat so identifying him in the crowd should be easy. He finds the hat before his brother though. Pointing to the screen he says, "Follow his path." 

"Oof, what did this kid do to make you want to hunt him down?" Steph, who is also now also with them along with Cass, asks amused as she too tracks the boy on screen. 

"Not him. He's going to lead me to Danyal though." The silence that follows after is deafening as all eyes snap to him. The security feed was even paused which means Damian couldn't just ignore everyone's reaction. "We are losing valuable time to find him! Continue the video, Drake!"

Instead of doing as he says Damian watches as Tim looks towards Bruce for direction on what he should do. At this he sends a glare towards his father, daring him to say anything that doesn't comply with what he wants right now. 

Damian understands that what he's asking for here is concerning his family; claiming that he saw his twin. Now is not the time to be questioning him though, Danyal could already be gone by the time he finished explaining everything. He just needs them to see his brother for themselves on the security tape. 

"Press play, Tim." Bruce says with a slight defeated tone to his voice. With that the video finally continues, all of them once again zoning in on the individual in the red hat. Watching as he talks with a goth girl, both of them pointing as they approach the planetarium, another figure. 

… a blur? 

Red hat and Goth girl come to stand on either side of the blurry figure, standing in front of the dedication plaque, before the figure grabs onto the other two as they all rush inside. Switching from the outside to the inside cameras they continue to follow the trio. 

The third person has to be Danyal, but why is the camera distorting his image? Before Damian can voice this himself though Steph is already speaking, "Is the blurry guy supposed to be Danyal? Why can we not see him clearly?" 

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Tim ponders as he continues to analyze the feed. "I'm sending a copy of this to Babs, she'll want to know how and why the cameras aren't picking him up. Regardless of if this is Danyal or not." 

"It is Danyal!" Damian insists, not liking that Tim was doubting him. 

"We'll see." 

Before he can snap back at Tim a gentle hand grips his shoulder. Looking up he sees Cass looking at him with a semi-serious face. "That is Danyal?"

"Yes." He replies instantly, because he knows that who he saw today is his brother; scars don't lie. 

Cass's face smooths as a soft smile grows, "We'll bring brother home." It felt good to have the most competent member of this family on his side. 

Speeding through the tape they finally reach the end of the show where it was announced that Damian and Bruce would be answering some questions. In that moment they all watch as the blurry figure, Danyal, takes the red hat and throws it on his own head while lowering himself in his seat; hiding. 

Pretty soon the interview comes to an end, Damian and his father were quick to make their way out of the building — he had to get out, his answers were far more emotional than he originally wanted — as Alfred was only moments away with the car. 

Danyal on the other hand stayed in his seat until after a minute or so before jumping up, and running towards the door. Leaving his companions behind. 

Switching the camera again it shows Bruce talking on the phone with Damian standing a good few feet away from him. The next thing to happen is the doors flying open, and Danyal's blurry form heading straight towards Damian. He'd almost think his brother ran into him on purpose if it wasn't for the fact that, even with the blur, Danyal is clearly looking behind himself as he moves forward. 

Their first meeting after so many years had been nothing, but a mistake on Danyal's part. He obviously never planned to run into him, to let Damian know that he was even alive, Damian thinks as he watches his brother break away and sprint down the street. All of this could have been solved already if his father hadn't stopped him from doing so. 

Even without having to demand it, Tim continues to track his brother through the cameras until eventually the trail comes to an end with all of them looking at the entrance of a dark alley.

“Drake, is there any way he could have left that alley without the camera’s seeing him?” Damian asks as he mentally plans out the fastest route to the alley his twin hid in. He wishes that he could see Danyal, but the angle of the camera makes that impossible. 

“Not unless the kid can turn invisible.” 

"Then he is currently in the alley now, and I'm going to him." Damian plainly states before rushing to get his Robin suit on. He's getting his brother back now. 

He would have already been halfway dressed by now if his father hadn't stopped him, "I'm going with you then. We still don't know if that is actually Danyal, chum. Somehow his presence is interfering with the cameras, and we can't assume that this whole thing isn't some kind of trap." 

"Think what you will Father, either way we will be going at once!" That is all he has left to say on the matter, and steps past the hand blocking him. 

He hears Bruce sigh before speaking to the others around the computer, "Tim, watch the cameras and let us know if anything changes. You two be prepared on stand-by for backup." 

It doesn't take long after that before both Batman and Robin are racing down the streets in the Batmobile towards the alley. His heart pounding in his chest the closer they get; this reunion can only end badly in his mind. The best he can hope for right now is that Danyal will hear him out. 

They're about half way there when suddenly the car's comms are crackling to life by Tim's frantic voice, "A van stopped in front of the alley with four armed individuals in white suits. Two are entering while the others appear to be guarding the exit. Orphan and Spoiler are heading in that direction now."  

Robin feels the car accelerate at those words as Batman barks back, "Anything identifiers for who they are?"

"G.I.W. is written on the side of the van. I'm running it through the system now for any hits. It should only- bright white light flash from inside the alley! Some type of fight has probably started." 

“ETA ten minutes. Update on the situation as needed.” 

Ten minutes. 

Ten minutes before he reaches Danyal, and saves him from whoever dared attack his brother. He can only hope that he's not too late to do so. 

Nine

Eight

Seven

“Movement from the alley, three individuals exiting. They … they have Danyal, he's currently incapacitated and being loaded in the van. You’re going to need to step on it, these guys aren’t waiting around any longer!" 

Batman visibly tightens his hands on the steering wheel, knowing that he’s not going to be able to make it there in time to stop them from leaving, as he growls out, “Keep track of them.” 

“I’ll do my best, but they’re on a direct path towards Crime Alley. If they truly enter it I’m going to lose them.” 

“Hm, Robin and I will continue our pursuit. Orphan and Spoiler, you two investigate the alley for anything left behind.” 

“On it, B.” Spoiler states. 

In the end there was no way for them to catch up in time before the van disappeared into Crime Alley. Every camera in the surrounding area was going to be heavily monitored from this point forward for when the van eventually went out again though. 

When Orphan and Spoiler returned to the cave the only thing they had was a red cap that contained two different hair samples. One belonged to the boy they saw in the security feed, whose identity was later confirmed to be Tucker Foley, The other showed DNA matching Bruce as the father and Damian as a twin; no signs of cloning found anywhere no matter how hard they searched for it. 

With Tucker Foley’s identity found it wasn’t hard to link Samantha Manson to the goth girl that was with him. That is when they found a boy resembling Damian that was said to be the third in this trio of friends. 

They found Daniel Fenton. 

[justmeinadaze]

Curiosity: Part 3 (Eddie X Plus Size Y/N)

A/N: I am going to elongate these two even if it kills me lol I'm obsessed with this version of Eddie <3

Warnings: Younger (Early 20s) Daddy (kinda camboy) Eddie & Older (early 30s) Plus Size Sub Fem Y/N, SMUT, Stevie makes a cameo, frotting, dirty talk (always lots of filthy words coming from Daddy Eddie), slight over stimulation, etc. FLUFF, Eddie and Y/N talk about music and how much they care about each other, Eddie is protective over you and Steve (he's a good egg)

ANGST, Eddie talks about Steve's past bad relationships (mentions of being used and manipulated in his vulnerable headspace), Eddie still doesn't know Y/N is the fan he's been talking to.

Word Count: 3383

Chapters Here/Donate to Me

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?”

“Eddie.”, you giggle as you cuddle up further into your mattress. “It’s fine. I know you’re just doing it for money. I’ll still like you; I promise.”

“You better.”, he teases. “Steve will be with me tonight just answering some questions and then we have one session which, knowing her, I’m sure will be just talking. Tomorrow, if you’re comfortable, I want you to come over and meet him before we film. It will make me feel better, you know. Just knowing you trust him and everything…Plus he’s one of my best friends…”

“Ok, sounds like a plan.”

“Alright, babe, well—”

“Eddie? Thank you for…always checking in…when it comes to this stuff. I know I’m ok with it and I know ALL this is new for me but I appreciate you being patient. I’ve...I’ve never dated anyone like that before.”

“Fuck, I think it’s so cute when you stumble over your words like that.”, he breathes making you smile. “Of course, sweetheart. I really like you and I care about your feelings. I know it’s only been a couple of months but you, um, you mean a lot to me…”

“I think it’s cute when you stumble over your words.”, you mock jokingly, beaming wide when you hear him laugh through his teeth. “You mean a lot to me to, Eddie.”

“Alright, alright. Stop flirting with me and go relax! I’ll talk to you later.”

When he hangs up the phone, you hug the device to your chest and keen into your pillow. It had been so long since you felt giddy over a romantic partner and you loved it. For a long time, you blocked that notion, having been hurt one too many times but especially by your last ex. 

Eddie always made things seem easy and you loved that about him. 

Your phone dinged and nerves flooded your stomach when you saw a notification reminder for a session you had scheduled with EddietheBanished later that evening that you definitely didn’t schedule. 

You had purposely avoided the site naively hoping that maybe you would never have to tell him and he would forget all about CurvyCorporateMillennial. You should have known better. Eddie’s kind heart would never allow that and you knew at some point you would have to come clean but with every passing day it just became harder. 

Did that stop you from grabbing your friend’s laptop and signing in?

No.

Did you enter his stream anyway even though you didn’t have to?

Yes.

When his face illuminated your screen that worry was replaced with affection as you watched his beautiful eyes scan over the names coming in. It wasn’t until his elbow nudged the boy beside him that you realized he wasn’t alone. 

“Millennial is here. That’s my friend I was telling you about.”, he praises causing the other boy to grin. 

When you pictured Steve, you imagined someone who looked like Eddie or the other friends he had that made up Corroded Coffin. The man sitting beside him now looked like he could be on the cover of any fashion magazine. His brown wispy locks seemed incredibly soft, immediately falling back into place after he ran his fingers through it. 

Even under his short sleeve shirt, you could tell how broad and muscular he was with veins that led along his forearms up to his gorgeous, massively sized hands. Steve’s facial features were soft but when he smiled even his eyes sparkled as his energy came to life. 

“I can’t wait to meet her, man.”, he replied in sultry voice that had you licking your lips. 

They were both in a particular headspace, you could tell. 

The first half of his stream was calm and easy with Eddie strumming his guitar against his bare chest. After a couple of minutes, heat warmed your cheeks when you realized it was one of the songs that you and he had talked about while laying in bed yesterday morning. 

“The best romantic songs are slow and sensual.”, he teases as he rolls his hips.

“They are not!”, you giggle as your nails lightly continue to rub his back. “The best ones are upbeat like…what was that one band…The Darkness? I Believe in a Thing Called Love.”

“Oh, the high pitched one?

I believe in a thing called love Just listen to the rhythm of my heart.”

When his voice cracks as he tries to hit the notes, you laugh uncontrollably as you press your face into his warm chest making him smile wide.

“Ok, alright, I’ll give you that. You can’t ignore songs though that are featured in actual romance movies.”

Eddie’s hand pets the back of your head as his eyes scan your face and he begins to lightly sing, 

“In your eyes The light, the heat (Your eyes) I am complete (Your eyes).”

His thumb softly drags along your lips and along your cheekbone.

“I see the light and the heat (Your eyes) I want to be that complete I want to touch the light The heat I see in your eyes.”

You tilt your head to kiss his lips before he wraps his arms around you to hold you tightly to him. 

 “Touching yoooooou, touching meeeee…”

Eddie’s head dips back as he laughs at Steve’s signing. 

“Dude, how do you know that song? You struggle with like all media.”

“I think the real question is why are you playing it? Didn’t it come out in the early 2000s or some shit.”, the boy chuckles through his teeth. 

“Yeah, yeah but…my girlfriend mentioned it and it’s been in my head… I was thinking about playing it for her so I can embarrass her cute ass from the stage.”

“You’re going to play that shit in front of a crowd of people and that’s somehow going to embarrass her?”

“Millennial, babe, help me out here.”

Biting your lip, you can’t help but giggle as you reply, “I think it’s an awesome song.”

“THANK YOU!”, Eddie sasses as he smirks at his friend who roles his eyes. “Do you enjoy being wrong? Lucky for you we aren’t playing or I would have spanked you.”

“For what?! Because your taste in music is drastically different from mine.”, Steve playfully responds as he pushes the man’s knee but doesn’t remove his hand from his skin. “You can spank me anyway though if you want.”

Your boyfriend’s eyebrows raise in amusement. 

“Spankings are meant to be a punishment. You’re not supposed to beg for them.”

“I wasn’t begging, I was suggesting.”

Both men stare at each other with knowing smiles on their faces. 

They know what they’re doing and for you it’s definitely working as you adjust on your mattress. 

“Mhmm. Well, we’ll talk about that attitude tomorrow. For now…”, Eddie pauses as he looks at his phone for the time. “We have to go but we’ll see you guys tomorrow night.”

While the metalhead grins, his friend waves as the screen went black and you hastily clicked their link faster than you ever had before. 

When their faces appeared they both seemed much more at ease as Steve’s nose scrunched while he laughed and Eddie exhaled smoke from the fresh cigarette he had just lit. 

“Oh shit. Hey, Mil. I hope it’s alright, I scheduled this thing so you can meet my friend—”

“Why do you keep scheduling her and not just give her your phone number.”, the other boy asks before turning to smile towards the camera while he listens to the answer. 

“I’ve offered but she insists this is fine. I don’t want to push. Mil, this my friend and recording slut Steve. Steve, my friend Mil.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” The pretty boy politely nods his head to say hello. “I hope it goes without saying but I don’t think you’re a slut. Lol.”

“Ok, good to know, honey.”, he chuckles lightly. “So, Ed here tells me you’re incredibly smart and you give him advice when it comes to his lady friend. Any advice for me?”

“Oh, um… just be yourself. I’m sure since you’re one of Eddie’s friends she’ll like you immediately.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because Eddie is such a sweetheart. Plus, I feel like he wouldn’t bring you around her if he thought you were a bad guy.”

Eddie smiles wide at your answer as Steve’s lips pout out as if he’s impressed. Just as before, you talked with the two of them for what you thought was a short amount of time until you realized it had been over three hours. 

They were both drinking and you couldn’t help but grin as more of their personalities flowed through. 

“Ok, ok, look.”, Steve shouted jokingly while your boyfriend cackled holding his tummy. “Do I enjoy showing off my body for money, yes? Do I enjoy that it pisses my father off? Also, yes. It’s an added bonus really.”

“How do your partners feel when you tell them you do this?”

“Honey, are you kidding? Half of my partners I met through here! It’s a…a double edge sword, you know? With every new soul I meet, there are a few who just want to fuck me.”

“Or they don’t understand the dynamic.”

“What do you mean?”

Eddie sighs as he cranes his neck to find his friend’s eyeline before tenderly rubbing his back to comfort him. 

“I told my girlfriend I always knew I was a dominate guy so I don’t really know what it’s like to be a sub but I do know what I see out in the world or with him when he tells me stories…fucking boys belittling him or hurting him instead of nurturing or taking care of him. Girls who take advantage of the headspace to use him to do whatever they want.”

“I like being degraded and humiliated sometimes but…some of my partners…there’s a line and they cross it.” 

When Steve’s voice cracked, your heart broke and you wanted nothing more than to hug him. While being with Eddie, you had entered that headspace so many times and you hated the image of him being that vulnerable with someone who took advantage. 

“I’m so sorry, Steve. You seem like a good person who deserves to be treated right.”

He smiled but his head hung and you watched with fascination as your boyfriend wheeled his chair closer till his forehead was resting on his temple with his arm circled around his neck so his fingers could gently run through his soft hair. 

“It’s ok, sweetheart, you’re alright. I’m right here.”, Eddie cooed, placing tender kisses on his cheek. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, babe. What did Daddy do when he found out about Trevor?” Steve let out a breathy laugh as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “Come on, Stevie. What did Daddy do?”

“Beat the crap out of him.”

At the man’s drop in tone, a sigh left your own lips. Steve was dropping into his little headspace and Eddie caught on quickly. Your heart swelled at how attentive your boyfriend was. Your ex never noticed small changes like that whether they be physical or emotional. 

“Yeah, I did. What about Leah? What did Daddy do with Leah?”

“You packed her…her stuff and told her…to get the fuck out of my house.”

“That’s right.”, the metalhead continued to soothe as he shifted his gaze towards the camera. “She manipulated him into letting her stay in his place. She would scream at him and call him names like his father and it just…” Eddie paused as he growled from his chest. “Trevor was just a fucking dick. Put his hands on him one time and I almost killed him.”

“You’re a good friend, Eddie… a good man.”

“Aw, thank you, Mil. If any guy ever hurts you, you tell me and I’ll kick his ass!”

“Lol. I appreciate that.”

While he was speaking, Steve had begun lightly kissing the long-haired boy’s neck causing his eyelids to occasionally flutter. 

“Do you like when he kisses you like that?”

Your boyfriend smirks as he gently but firmly pushes at his friend’s chest. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Mil isn’t like the others. She doesn’t wants to see any of this.”

“I don’t mind.”, you type a bit too quickly causing him to breathily laugh. “I mean…if you’re comfortable.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like you have to or anything. I was just saying…you know…I don’t mind.”

“You see that, baby? See how sweet she is?”, Eddie hums as he forces Steve to focus on the screen. “Don’t ever feel nervous about that kind of thing, Mil.”

The pretty boy barely allowed him to get his last sentence out before crashing his lips to his own. A part of you wondered if you would be jealous when you saw them be intimate but seeing them now had you unbelievably wet. 

“Come here, sweet boy.”

Steve immediately dropped to his knees and tugged down the metalhead’s sweatpants allowing his cock to spring free. Eddie was nothing but patient as he pet the man’s hair and looked at him with eyes filled with affection. 

“Can I suck your cock, Daddy? Please.”

“Absolutely.” A small smile flickered across his lips as his tongue darted out to lick the precum off his tip, leaving little kisses before opening his mouth to envelope him fully. “Gooood. Good boy. T-Take as much as you can for right now.”

A heavy pant escaped your chest and you watched his head bob halfway down Eddie’s cock as his palm caught the drool that fell to stroke the rest him. Your boyfriend bit his bottom lip as his glassy eyes observed him, his fingers tangling into his hair as he lightly guided his movements.

“Look at you…so fucking pretty. Anyone w-would be lucky to have you worship them…”

Steve moaned at his praise, grinding his hips against the man’s leg desperate for any form of friction to ease the ache between his own legs. Eddie chuckled as he grabbed the boy’s bicep and lifted him off his length to his feet so he could effortlessly remove his pants with his boxers. 

His red, angry cock was leaking copious amounts of precum, ready to be released at any moment but he knew. He wouldn’t cum until Daddy told him it was ok. With calloused hands on his hips, the metalhead guided his friend to straddle his waist, holding his lower back for support as he maneuvered them both so they were better seen on the camera. 

“Can you see this beautiful boy, Mil?”

“Yes…so handsome…”

“Yeah, honey, he is. Did you see that? She said you were handsome.”, Eddie cooed while Steve fully began rolling his hips as he nibbled on his neck. “Fuck that feels so good… I got you, baby. Daddy’s got you.”

The pretty boy whimpered as his hand reached between their bodies to pump his hand along their cocks, holding them together as he continued to move. 

“F-Fuck, that’s it. Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum all over my cock.” Gripping his ass, Eddie guided his movements making the other man move at a faster pace that had him whining desperately as his head fell on his shoulder. “That’s it, that’s it. Don’t stop, Steven!”

His rhythm began to slow but your boyfriend wouldn’t allow it as he kept guiding him till his face scrunched and his arms promptly wrapped around him to hold him close. 

“Hey, look at me. Are you ok?”

“Yeah…yeah, Daddy, I ok.”, Steve responded sleepily making Eddie chuckle. 

“What about you, Mil? Are you--?” The metalhead barely got his sentence out before he realized CurvyCorporateMillennial had already signed off. 

***

Ten minutes later, you were pounding on his door with your palm.

“Jesus fucking CHRIST! I am coming! Who the fu—Y/N? Baby, are you alri—”

You practically jumping into his arms, interrupting him as your lips greedily attached to his. 

“I’m sorry…I just…need you…Where’s—”

“He’s asleep.”

You breathily giggle with relief as you walk Eddie to his couch where you both fall onto it with him on top. Your legs circled around his waist making him pause for a moment as he pushed up onto his palms. 

“Fuck…”

“Is something wrong?”, you whisper.

“No, no. Steve and I were playing and I didn’t realize I had…fucking cum…on my pants…”

“Eddie, it’s alright.”

“It’s a mix of mine and his. If I had known it was there and that you were coming over I would have taken them off.”, he laughed as he tried to push off you but you kept your grip firm. 

“It’s ok.”, you repeat as your lips find his once more. “Did…Did Daddy make him feel good?” He pulls back again but only enough so his chocolate eyes can search yours. “Is he ok?”

“Jesus…how did I get so lucky to land a perfect girl like you?”, he murmurs more so to himself than you. “Yeah, baby, Daddy made him feel good.”

Desperately, you pushed down his sweats as he sloppily tried to help with the one free hand he could spare before lifting up your hips to remove your shorts. 

“Shit, baby girl, you are so fucking wet. What were you doing before you came over?”, Eddie asked as his ran his tip between your folds. 

“Thinking about you…and how much I miss you…”

Your breath filled answer made him smile as he tenderly kissed your forehead. His irises lock with yours and his mouth drops open in a silent moan as he gradually pushes himself inside you. 

“Jesus fuck… I’m s-still…still a little sensitive.”, he chuckles as his eyes close and his head hangs. “Fuck, your always so tight.”

“Mmph—so big…”

“I know. I know, pretty girl, but you can take it. Your pussy takes me so well.”

“Fuck me, Daddy…please.”

Falling flat against you, Eddie rolled his hips pushing his cock so deep inside you that you swore you saw stars. The grunt that followed every slam sounded like music to your ears as small ahs of your own were muffled into his broad shoulder.

After pushing up onto his hands, his hair tickled your nose as he craned his neck to watch his length disappear into your cunt and come back out glistening with your slick. 

“I’m gonna go faster now but—fuck—I need you to try and be really quiet for Daddy, sweetheart, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy.”

“Good…good girl. Can you do me another favor?”, he smirks as he takes hold of your wrist and sticks out his long tongue, running the pads of your fingers along the muscle. “I want you to rub your clit.”

“Like this, Daddy?”, you ask as you bring your hand down to your bundle of nerves and Eddie starts thrusting into you again. 

“Just like that, baby.”

With one palm gripping the back of the couch, he utilizes his other to hold your thigh, keeping your legs open for him as he chases your highs. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl. I’ll cum with you.” Nodding, your eyes squeeze shut as your back arches and you come undone. “Goddamn it.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, you feel his release warm your insides and you promptly cup his face, bringing his lips to yours as he lazily continues to move, elongating both your climaxes. 

“Ah, shit.”

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah…hurts a bit.”, Eddie hisses lightly as he kisses your forehead and slowly pulls out. “Do you feel comfortable taking a shower? He’s completely passed out and—”

You cut him off again with another tender kiss as your thumbs caress his cheeks. 

“Can we lay here for a bit?”

“Of course. Do you want me to move or…?” Shaking your head, you pull him against you as you wrap your arms around him and your nails gently run through his tangled mess of hair. “I’m not too heavy, right?”

“Eddie!”, you whisper loudly, shaking him with your belly as you laugh. “I’m alright. Everything is alright. Let me hold you.”

The metalhead smiles as he tils up so his chin is resting on your chest. 

“Forever and ever, babe. If you’ll have me.”

###############

@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @twirls827 @micheledawn1975 @chelebelletx @hardladyheart @spiderxbatty @twirls827 @daveythorntonslocker @eddies-dungeon-and-dragon @mrsjellymunson @utterlyinsanity @daveythorntonslocker @jeangeniex @seedlingghost

[shinynewmemories]

The exchange between Peeta and Gale in Tigris's basement used to be my least favorite scene in the entire book. I hated how it made Katniss out to be a heartless drone whose only motivation is survival. But I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I'm now convinced I grossly misinterpreted the purpose of the passage the first times I read it. I don't think it's about Gale revealing some sage wisdom about Katniss; I think it's a revelation about how far gone Katniss and Gale's relationship truly is, and how little he understands the way she loves. AND it's about how much better Peeta understands Katniss, even in his half-hijacked state. Let me break it apart a tad to explain what I mean:

“She loves you, you know,” says Peeta. “She as good as told me after they whipped you.”

Peeta is correct on both counts. Katniss DOES love Gale, and in CF, she internally refers back to the whipping as the moment she "chose" Gale over Peeta. Peeta knew it then, and he knows it now.

“Don’t believe it,” Gale answers. “The way she kissed you in the Quarter Quell... well, she never kissed me like that.”

Correct, but it's interesting that Gale refers to THAT moment on the beach as proof that Katniss loves Peeta. Because on one hand, that WAS the first time she felt and displayed sexual desire for anyone. But on the other hand, I would argue that there was lots more evidence for Katniss's love for Peeta; "anyone paying attention" could see it. So why does Gale point to the one time things got hot and heavy between them?

“It was just part of the show,” Peeta tells him, although there’s an edge of doubt in his voice.

Incorrect, but I'll give him half credit for the "edge of doubt" in his voice.

“No, you won her over. Gave up everything for her. Maybe that’s the only way to convince her you love her.” 

Here's where Gale starts talking kinda crazy. Since when has the issue been convincing KATNISS that HE (or Peeta) loved HER? Since the end of book 1, there has never been the slightest doubt in Katniss's mind that Peeta loved her. And she's never doubted Gale's love, although she admits it caught her off guard. Does Gale actually think that if Katniss could just SEE how much he loves her, she'd have no choice but to marry him? Or does he think Katniss is holding back because he hasn't "given up everything" for her? Either way, he paints Katniss as a fundamentally untrusting and self-centered person.

Also, he implies that Katniss needs to be "won over", that she needs to be PERSUADED to love either of them... Yikes. It's like he actually believes Katniss doesn't have the emotional capabilities of falling in love all on her own.

There’s a long pause. “I should have volunteered to take your place in the first Games. Protected her then.”

Incorrect! Over to Peeta for an explanation of why that would have been a Colossally Stupid idea:

“You couldn’t,” says Peeta. “She’d never have forgiven you. You had to take care of her family. They matter more to her than her life.”

DING DING DING DING! I just picture Peeta making a ????????no??? face as Gale says he should have volunteered for him. Like?? Can you IMAGINE? Book 1 Katniss would have been screaming at Gale like "you absolute IDIOT. WHY would you throw your life and the lives of your and/or my family away. And for WHAT? MORON."

But I get it. Gale is saying this out of desperation. Because he can't say "I wish you had died in those games" (although perhaps that is how he's felt once or twice). And to be fair, if Peeta had never been in those games with Katniss, things between them now would be very... different. (shhhhh Gale doesn't have to know about the whole "this would've happened anyway" thing)

“Well, it won’t be an issue much longer. I think it’s unlikely all three of us will be alive at the end of the war. And if we are, I guess it’s Katniss’s problem. Who to choose.” Gale yawns. “We should get some sleep.”

Correct, nothing to object to here.

“Yeah.” I hear Peeta’s handcuffs slide down the support as he settles in. “I wonder how she’ll make up her mind.”

Even though Peeta is more in sync with Katniss, he doesn't presume to know how her romantic side works. Gotta respect that.

“Oh, that I do know.” I can just catch Gale’s last words through the layer of fur. “Katniss will pick whoever she thinks she can’t survive without.”

So I ask: if Gale is shown throughout this exchange to be mostly wrong about Katniss's motivations, desires, and possibly her whole personality, why would we believe he's correct about this?? I think the only conclusion is that he's NOT.

I'll end by adding Katniss's opinion about Gale's assertion:

It’s a horrible thing for Gale to say, for Peeta not to refute. Especially when every emotion I have has been taken and exploited by the Capitol or the rebels.

Katniss is DEEPLY hurt by what Gale said. And I no longer believe it's because it's the truth about HER. I think it's because it's the truth about how Gale sees her, and he sees her in a very hurtful (albeit incorrect) way.

[adalindofcabinsix]

that kind of love never dies (II)

summary: the one where jake realizes the complexity of a supposedly simple plan.

pairing: jake x mc

word count: 1.4K

warnings: tkolnd takes place after the events of episode 10; cover images found on pinterest; english is not my first language.

author’s note: i love this chapter. it was so much fun to write jake's first meeting with mc. the game left many unresolved questions and i will try to answer them based on the information we already have and a little imagination.

masterlist

Without any hesitation, he nodded. There was no point in lying now, not after everything they had done to get Hannah back. And, even if it bothered him a little, Barbara had won his trust.

“A penny for your thoughts.” The hacker asked, seeing the confusion in her eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

“It's a long story.”

“I have time.” She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting.

Jake took a deep breath to calm himself. They definitely didn't have time. However, he knew he would need to do his best to make her trust him again.

“Long story short, an old alert from Nym-0s showed results yesterday saying that you bought a plane ticket to Switzerland. Since the airport was close to Duskwood, I thought I'd better investigate.”

“Have you been following me since New York?”

“Not exactly, I bought a nonstop flight from Tokyo to Zurich.”

“Why didn't you tell me who you were when we bumped into each other at the airport?”

He hated the fact that his tone was more hurt than angry. Jake opened his mouth to apologize, then closed it. Looking over her shoulder, he noticed the presence of a hooded figure standing in front of the open door of the chinese restaurant, hunching his shoulders against the pouring rain.

Barbara's cell phone immediately started ringing with a call. Frowning, she reached for the device inside her bag, and Jake didn't need to understand portuguese to know what was written on the screen.

“Unknown number?”

“Yes.” She lifted her head, meeting Jake's eyes.

“Great.” He said ironically, taking the cell phone from her hand and sliding his finger to the left to reject the call. “Come on, I'll explain everything to you on the road.”

“All right.” Barbara answered, allowing Jake to lead the way. “But if you're lying about who you are, I'll break your nose.”

“It's fair.”

The hacker kept walking , and she ran to keep up with him, dodging a puddle of water. Two minutes later, they stopped in front of a gray Mercedes-Benz crowned with a red convertible roof parked behind the Gates Hotel.

“Please tell me it’s not stolen.”

“It's not stolen!” Jake looked at her offended, opening the passenger door.

“Sorry! It's just that in my mind you were poor. Which, when you think about it, doesn't make sense, right? How would you do everything you do without money?”

“You are impossible, Barbara.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“I can't be impossible, Jake, I exist.” She replied, rolling her eyes theatrically. “I think you meant that I'm unbelievable.”

“Get in the car straight away.” He ordered, but he was smiling, his eyes filled with something like pleasure.

“I have some questions.” Barbara announced when they stopped at a red light.

“Of course you have.” Jake smiled amusedly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Earlier, at the airport, was our meeting on purpose?”

“Yes. I couldn't risk my position by tracking you via cell phone so I had to be creative.”

“Something tells me you're the type to put trackers in people's favorite coat pockets.” She was surprised when he didn't deny it. “Seriously?” Barbara scoffed, rubbing her hands down her arms.

“That worked, didn't it?” He said, undoing his seat belt. “Here, you must be cold.”

Before Barbara could object, Jake took off the leather jacket he was wearing and handed it towards her.

“Thank you, Jake.” She accepted the offer, her cheeks blushing beautifully as she quickly looked away from the defined muscles that were marked by the white t-shirt.

“You're welcome.” He looked straight ahead again, covering his mouth with the back of his left hand to hide a smile of pure satisfaction.

He looked straight ahead again, covering his mouth with the back of his left hand to hide a smile of pure satisfaction.

“Were you in Tokyo this whole time?” Barbara questioned, placing the jacket over her shoulders.

“Tokyo, New Delhi, Manila... I needed to keep myself busy so I didn't think about you too much.”

“I'm unforgettable, aren't I?”

“Too unforgettable for your own good.” He agreed, replacing his belt and accelerating the car to get them moving again.

She sighed loudly.

“Yeah, I guess that explains why the FBI won't leave me alone.”

“What?”

“You have no idea why I'm here, do you?”

“Considering who I saw at the chinese restaurant, I think I might have an idea.”

“They sent some messages yesterday, inviting me to that same restaurant we talked about last time. The writing was very similar to yours, but it wasn't the same.”

“You knew it wasn't me and you came anyway?”

“We had an agreement, and as a future lawyer, I couldn't let them get away with this so easily.”

“What was your plan?” He waited for an answer, but Barbara just shrugged. “What? Didn't you have one?”

“We brazilians work better under pressure.”

Jake had to stop himself from giving her an irritated look.

“Well, at least this time the FBI is innocent.”

“What do you mean?”

“Old habits never die, right? I figured something was wrong when you didn't go directly to Duskwood, so I accessed the security cameras around the hotel and watched the footage from the past two days.”

“Did you find anything?”

“Nothing too out of the ordinary, but there was one guy who caught my attention. I think I've seen him before. Anyway, I've run his face through facial recognition software and will have confirmation by the end of the night.” He met her eyes, his expression becoming serious. “Barbara, do you understand how…”

“Stupid to come here alone without knowing what I would face? Yes, the reality is starting to knock. In my defense, I would never imagine that someone from the outside could have access to our conversations.”

“Breaking into the FBI database is complicated, but not impossible. This guy was supposed to be looking for information about me and ended up finding you along the way. I'm sorry for bringing you into this.”

She made a nonchalant gesture, dismissing his apologies.

“You're only here because I was impulsive and played my role as a decoy very well, so I think we can say we're even.”

“I will always be in your debt.” Jake declared softly, weaving through traffic with ease.

The rest of the trip flew by, and the next thing he knew, he was parking near the Aurora's curb.

“What are we doing here?” Barbara looked at him uneasily, her voice sounding louder.

“I need to drop you off somewhere safe before I go back to get my gear from the hotel I'm staying at.”

“A bar is the last place I would think of, I have to admit.”

Jake snorted.

“As much as you approve, we only came here to get Jessica's address.”

“I thought you gathered information on all of us when Hannah was kidnapped.”

“I did, but Jessica moved out a few months after Richy got arrested. And since the FBI is monitoring activity around your friends' digital data, I'm forced to do this the hard way.”

“You mean... Talking?”

“Talking to Phil.”

She stifled a laugh.

“You can wait in the car if you want.”

“I'm not leaving you alone with this guy.” He rolled his eyes, stepping out into the drizzle that was decreasing with each second.

“In that case, why not go to Lilly or Dan?” Barbara commented, carefully slamming the car door. “I'm sure it would be less unpleasant for you.”

“I don't want others to know I'm in town.” Jake said, stopping beside her under the bar's canopy. “Not yet.”

“You're avoiding your sisters, aren't you?”

“It is complicated.”

“I know it's none of my business, but they'd be happy to hear from you. Especially Lilly.”

“Since when have you been Lilly's defender?”

“Believe me, I'm as surprised as you are.” Barbara laughed, brushing an invisible speck of dust off her dress. “How do I look?”

Jake analyzed her from head to toe for a few moments, seeing the way Barbara's hair fell over her arm in messy locks, how her smudged mascara highlighted the beauty of her light brown eyes, and how her dress, almost completely dry, outlined each centimeter of her body.

“Beautiful.”

“I'm serious, Jake!”

“Me too.” He smiled adoringly, intertwining his fingers with hers. “Come on, I don't want to prolong this any longer than necessary.”

taglist: @daniiiworlds; @labemquarts; @deinily

[selarina]

Criminal

("I've been a bad, bad girl, I've been careless with a delicate man.")

-> Yuuji Itadori x Reader/ Sukuna x Reader

Content Warnings: aged-up yuuji itadori, smut, jealously, sibling rivalry, best friend's brother trope, no curses!au, jealously, rough play, possessive behaviour, somewhat toxic dynamics, childhood friends to fwb, bruises and hickeys, cooking, food & alcohol, love triangle?

Author's Note: this is what inspired me + criminal by fiona apple <3

Word Count: 2.2k words

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

You watch as Yuuji grapples and swings against Sukuna. There was always such a rough quality about him even if he was nearly an older replica of Yuuji. Rougher features, rougher voice.

You watch as the Yuuji manages to get the upper hand, pushing him down, knees first, into the brown dirt on the ground, his brows cinching in desperation and fury as he interlocks Sukuna into a headlock.

"Hey," you interrupt. "Aren't you two a little too old to be wrestling on the lawn?"

The two of them scramble, pushing each other away, as they manage to stand up.

Yuuji runs a hand through his hair, untangling the kinks as he chuckles. "Sukuna's definitely getting too old to lose."

"I was going easy on you, brat" Sukuna replies with a frown. "Didn't want your little girlfriend here to think she was with a loser."

"She's not—"

"He's not—"

"Yeah, yeah," Sukuna dismisses with a wave of his hand. "Say that all you want."

You frowned as your eyes scanned the older boy's face. A small patch of dirt was smeared on the side of his cheek.

"Hey, you have something," you pointed your finger trying to pinpoint the exact location for him.

He looked up at you, brows raised as he tried to rub it off. You can't help but think he looks like a lost child just then. The same guy you've seen wrestle men two times his size, a mere child fumbling against his own cheek.

"Here, let me just get it for you," you said, as you slinked your way towards him, getting a little too close than you needed to as you reached over to his face.

You slid your thumb across his soft skin, rubbing off all the leftover dirt. His brown-red eyes were looking into yours the whole time as you smiled.

"There, all clean." You quickly slid your hand back to your side.

"How's Osaka?" you ask, not bothering to create any distance between you.

"It's alright," Sukuna replies. "Been quiet and nice without the two of you bothering me."

"Well, we've missed you here," you say, a quiet jump in your feet as you do.

"Speak for yourself," Yuuji grumbles as he tries to pat the dirt off his slacks.

Sukuna's lips curl into a smirk, his eyes still locked on yours. "So what I'm hearing is, you're missing me?" he teases.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Don't flatter yourself. I was just making conversation."

"Say that all you want," he says, for the second time today as the three of you begin to make your way into the house

-

Sukuna was the head chef tonight, commanding the kitchen as he barked commands at the two of you. Yuuji was in charge of cutting, while you, seemingly without purpose, plopped yourself on the kitchen counter, blabbering the time away.

"Why are you here again?" Sukuna grumbles halfway through the making of the meal, clearly frustrated by your loud, incessant banter with Yuuji.

"Rude," you say, showcasing full offense, in tone and in body language as you jerk away. Like his words were hot oil you were dodging.

"Well, I'm going to be around all summer. So if you have any plans of staying here. You should get used to this."

"You do know this is my house, right?" Sukuna retorts, his tone laced with irritation.

"Doesn't matter," you squint, a glint in your eye. "You're stuck with me."

Sukuna muttered under his breath, calling you a nuisance.

"Oh, come on!" You frown, pulling your legs up to your chest and resting back against the cold wall. "It's not all bad."

Sukuna looks up from his stirring just then, his eyes momentarily flitting to the bare skin of your thighs exposed by your crumpled skirt.

"Yeah," he says, his eyes meeting yours again. "It's not all bad."

-

Later that night, the house is quiet, but you hear the faint sound of the TV. You walk downstairs and find Sukuna eating a chocolate—a chocolate you distinctly swore you bought for yourself.

"Those are mine," you call out, stepping into the living room. "Stealing is a crime, you know."

"You literally eat and sleep on my hard-earned money," he says incredulously.

“I sleep on the floor,” you counter. “And I buy my share of groceries.”

“The brat makes you sleep on the floor?” Sukuna looks surprised. “No way.”

That is true. You don't sleep on the floor but you'll say about anything to win arguments so you continue, "So what if I do?"

He approaches you, his eyes serious. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be sleeping on the floor.”

You’re taken aback by his straightforwardness.

“Even if you are a nuisance,” he adds.

You purse your lips, about to say something when a voice startles you from behind.

Before you can respond, Yuuji's voice startles you from behind.

“You get your chocolate?” he asks, standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking ruffled. Your eyes are drawn to his toned muscles, visible beneath his tight-fitting shirt.

"Nah," you shrug. "Don't want it anymore anyway."

And then, the two of you make your way up to Yuuji's bedroom. The door shuts and in an instant, you're pressed against it. And you're come face to face with a seething Yuuji.

He looks pissed, to say the least.

It takes a second for him to act but he leans forward, his lips pressing against your own. Hot against your own lips.

He backs off after what seems like a long time. But he stays — inches away.

“Why do you do that?” Yuuji asks, his voice low. It's rhetorical, of course. He knows why you do, all too well.

"Why do you do that?" Yuuji asks, his voice low. It's a murmur more than a question. He knows why you do this. All too well.

His cologne wafts to your nose — citrusy and sweet, fills your senses, urging you to look away, to not drown in its familiarity.

You feign ignorance, batting your eyelashes. "Do what?"

He bends down again, his teeth biting into your bottom lip, slowly. Pinching down hard enough to make you groan.

“He’s no good,” he says as he backs off again. “You know that.”

And you do. You'd choose Yuuji over an impulsive shell of a man any day, but the game, the tease, has always been to your delight.

A smirk tugs at your lips. "So?" The question comes with an annoying intonation in your tone. Your hand trails across his chest, "I always did like the brooding—" Your fingers trail. "Impulsive." Another trail. "Leather jacket type."

It lingers now above his belt. But you're too slow. His hand catches yours firmly, pinning you against the door with a force and sound that makes you wonder if Sukuna can hear you through the thin walls.

He kisses you, deep and wet, in the way he knows you like, leaving you breathless. Normally, you'd wrap your arms around his neck, tangle your fingers in his hair to pull him closer, but your hands remain prisoned now above your head

He breaks the kiss, drawing back again, just enough so that his lips are hovering above your own. You open your eyes, pupils blown out with a certain haze he'd never get tired of seeing, blinking up at him expectantly as you wait for him to kiss you again.

But he doesn't. He hovers there.

He likes to tease too.

You've always had the upper hand in whatever the two of you seem to have. He knows this. You know this. Hell, it's the first thing his brother told him when he met you. But there are times. Times when he likes to balance the scales. Just to see what you feel like.

When you realize he's not going to kiss you, you lean up, trying to close the distance, but he moves out of reach at the last second, leaving you pouting. He thinks that seeing you pout is almost enough for him to give you what you want.

"Still interested in my brother?" he asks, his voice teasing but laced with something serious.

You take the cue. "Who again?" you reply, looking up at him with a dazed smile.

He grins, his grip loosening around your wrists. You lower your hands, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. This time, he doesn't pull away. He kisses you, feeling you against his lips.

It doesn't take much for him to have you desperate and moaning, a testament to the months of practice since that first time in Sukuna's dingy car.

His fingers find their way inside you, curling against the spot that makes your eyes roll back.

You struggle to stay upright, one leg bent awkwardly to make space for his arm, your hands clutching at him for support—one on his shoulder, the other pulling his hair.

You're dripping down his wrist, whining as you cup his face, forcing him to look at you.

You start dripping down on his wrist now as you whine. Your hand leaves his hair to cup in his face, to make him look at you.

His eyes, when they look up at you, are as dazed as yours, smitten in a way that makes your heartache.

Your thighs tremble, and you whine again, begging him to fuck you. He nods, urging you to jump, his hands gripping beneath your thighs as he carries you to the bed.

He moves you to your knees and thrusts into you from behind, hard and deep, with his chest against your sweaty back. You come with your cheek pressed into the mattress, barely able to mumble his name into the sheets.

Your hands loosen up against the sheet as he flips you over, pushing your knees up to your chest, as he slides back inside you.

He makes you come again, this time hearing his name leave your mouth clear and debauched — your hands laced with his, as he kisses you one last time before finally letting go.

-

You shower first. The hot water runs down your body, revealing new bruises and hickeys like invisible tattoos come to life. You trace them with your fingers, smiling.

You wrap yourself in a towel and peek out, the chill of his room slapping your face with overwhelming intensity.

"Hey," you say, as he looks up from his phone, lounging on the bed.

"What's up?"

"Pass me my clothes. They're in the red bag," you point to the large bag on the floor, your gesture languid.

He rolls off the bed, unzipping the bag and rummaging through it. "Anything specific you need?"

"Nah," you shrug. "Just shorts, something baggy for a top, and my underwear, please."

You close the door, leaving it slightly ajar, finding it too cold to stand by it.

Moments later, you hear a knock. You smile despite yourself.

"Come in," you say sweetly as he opens the door to walk himself in. "You know you were in me like minutes ago, right?"

"Doesn't mean I lose all sense of respect, you know" he replies.

You walk over, one hand clutching the towel. "You're still a dork," you muss his hair, taking the clothes from his hands.

He exits, smiling to himself now like a thirteen-year-old boy.

You look down when he's gone. Noticing the flimsy black shorts and blue underwear are yours. But the light red T-shirt isn't yours.

You glance at the items. The flimsy black shorts and blue underwear— are yours. The light red T-shirt, on the other hand, is not. Y

You put them on anyway, emerging from the steam, and tossing the towel onto the bed.

"Your turn," you say, the shower leaving you tired. You plop yourself onto the bed.

"I know you used up all the hot water," he mumbles, mainly to himself, as he heads into the bathroom.

While he's showering, you try to occupy yourself — replying to texts, sifting through his comics, tidying the bed. But then you get hungry, and you decide you want something.

You descend the stairs slowly, aware of Sukuna's tendency to pass out on the couch. You hear the TV blaring. He must be up, you think as you abandon your need for silence.

"Still up?" you ask, noting his presence without surprise.

"About to crash soon," he hears him from the living room. His eyes were not leaving the TV as you rummage through the fridge—cheese, mint, milk. You frown, cursing the lack of snacks.

"Here," a voice suddenly, from behind you. You turn to find Sukuna offering a chocolate bar.

"I don't understand. Did you un-eat my chocolate?" you ask, incredulous.

"Bought it when I got some beer, dummy," he rolls his eyes.

You raise an eyebrow. "I want the beer instead," you point to the can in his hand.

"You hate beer," he says firmly. "Threw up all evening and made us clean, remember?"

He smirks, seeing through your facade. “You just want it to spite me. No change there.”"

He's right, but you hide your smile.

"Alright," he says, relinquishing the can as his eyes land on your neck. "Enjoy, kid."

You swallow hard, heart pounding in your throat.

"Thanks," you murmur, making your way up the stairs again, with your free hand brushing the bruise on your neck.

[crimsonfrostx]

A Road Well Traveled (Azriel x Reader)

Part 3

Word Count: 2028 Warnings: Anger, mild language Part 4 Part 2

Cassian's grin falters, his expression softening at your apology. He rubs a hand over his face, the excitement now replaced with a hint of remorse. "Oh, come on," he groans, walking over to you. "Don't do the guilty act. You know it doesn't suit you." He slowly pulls you in for a hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You wrap your arms around him tightly, hoping they couldn't see how close to breaking you really were. The thickness in the room dissipated slowly, but never fully. "You really are a pain in my ass, you know that?" he mutters, resting his chin on the top of your head.

Amren hums, catching your attention as you release Cassian and turn towards the strange, small female. "Amren. You seem...different," you say carefully, unsure how to explain it. Amren raises an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth tilting into a slight smirk. "Different? Is that your way of saying I've lost my touch, girl?" she asks, her voice smooth and slightly mocking.

You grin slowly. "I would never," you say earnestly.

Amren's smirk widens into a rare smile that reaches her eyes. "I always knew I liked you for a reason," she replies, her gaze flickering over your form. "You are different, as well, are you not?" she observes, her eyes narrowing. 

You tense, your own eyes narrowing. "That's enough, Amren," you say, voice firm. Fear had never ruled over your relationship with Amren, and it wouldn't start now.

Amren holds your gaze for a moment before nodding slightly, recognizing the firmness in your voice. She had a strange relationship with you, one built upon harsh words and respect, but not friendship. "Very well. But remember, I see through your facade," she replies softly, her silver eyes glinting with a knowing look.

You purposely ignored Azriel’s searching gaze, stepping away from the table. You glanced towards the last two strangers you hadn't yet greeted. "You must be Nesta," you eye the fierce looking female seated next to Cassian. Then, you meet soft doe eyes across the table. "Making you, Elain."

Nesta’s sharp, grey-blue eyes narrowed as they fixed upon you, her gaze assessing you carefully. She offers a slight incline of her head, a sign of acknowledgment, but her expression remains guarded. Elain, on the other hand, offers you a gentle smile, her warm, doe-like eyes filled with curiosity. "Yes, I'm Elain," she replies softly, her voice carrying a soft, velveteen undertone.

You open your mouth to say something when Rhysand tilts his head. "Incoming," he warns, his voice warm with affection. A young boy with small bat-like wings comes sprinting in, arms spread wide and barreling into his father. Your expression melts at the youngest and newest addition to the family.

The boy, Nyx, hugs his father’s legs, his wings spread wide and batting at the air as he giggles uncontrollably. Rhysand effortlessly lifts the young boy up into his arms, chuckling warmly as Nyx clings to him. Cassian snorts a laugh, a fond smile on his face as he watches the father and son. "That boy is going to be a nightmare, just you watch," he mutters.

You take small steps forward, eyes latched onto the boy who looked just like Rhysand. "I have missed too much," you murmur softly. You had always promised to stick by your family, had late night discussions with Mor about how you would spoil any child born to this chaotic group. 

Rhysand turns towards you, his gaze softening as he takes in your expression. "You're here now," he replies, a faint hint of sadness in his eyes, knowing how much you missed their lives after leaving. Nyx, noticing you for the first time, turns his head, his wide blue eyes studying your face curiously. "Who 'at?" he asks in a small voice, pointing a chubby finger at you.

Rhysand chuckles softly, a loving smile on his face as he turns Nyx to face you, holding him up in the air in front of you. "This is an old friend, Nyx. She went away for a while but has finally come home." Nyx stares at you with wide eyes, his curiosity piqued, then looks back at his father. "But why?" he asks, his small wings flapping gently as he tries to get a better look at you. You can feel your heart break slowly at the little boy's question.

You can feel everyone’s eyes back on you, and you think you’d run out the front door if it didn’t look like Azriel would catch you within the first 30 seconds. Rhysand’s expression softens, sensing your pain. He strokes Nyx's soft black hair, trying to figure out how to answer his son’s question. “People have to go away sometimes, buddy," he starts gently, tilting Nyx's face up towards him. "Sometimes they need some space or to find new adventures." 

Rhysand's gaze flicks over to you, his expression shifting to a mixture of understanding and sadness. "But they always come back eventually," he continues, his tone hopeful. Nyx stares at Rhysand for a moment, his youthful innocence struggling to comprehend the concept. He turns his head back to you, his gaze fixated on your face. "You back now," he says, his small wings flapping again.

You nod slowly, a sad smile gracing your face. "I am," you confirm softly, stepping close and rustling his black hair. Nyx's tiny wings twitch with excitement as you brush your fingers through his hair, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Stay again?" he asks innocently, reaching a small hand out to pat your cheek.

You feel your chest ache painfully, and you nod quickly, eyes glancing up to Rhysand before looking around at the important people in your life, and the fresh additions. “I’m not going anywhere,” you state, eyes pausing on Azriel’s hazel orbs.

Nyx's face lights up with joy at your acceptance, his small hand still resting on your cheek. "Yay!" he squeals, flapping his wings even more vigorously. Rhysand chuckles, giving you a small nod in acknowledgement of your declaration. “You always have a home here,” he says, voice tinged with warmth and understanding. 

You pull away, breathing in harshly like you’ve been deprived of oxygen. You retreat completely and round the table, stepping back towards Azriel and the entrance. "I brought wine! I don't know if it's up to your standards, but I know it's strong!"

You could feel their eyes on your back as you rushed into the next room and towards your bag by the front door. Pausing, you debate on leaving now, before you have the chance to panic again and mess everything up. A shadow twirls a piece of your hair and you glance back to the entrance of the dining room to find Azriel watching you carefully, his eyes filled with concern. Hand raised in a wave, you turn back and breathe slowly through your nose and open your bag, grabbing the bottle of wine you had packed on a whim. You couldn’t abandon them after declaring that you wouldn’t leave again.

You turn and walk back to the dining room, passing an expressionless Azriel who’s eyes never once left you. Raising the bottle in one hand, you wiggle it a little. “I return bearing gifts!” You declare loudly, proud of yourself for not shaking like a leaf.

Cassian lets out a low whistle, his gaze flickering between you and the bottle you’re holding. "You never fail to show up unannounced and bearing gifts," he says, his tone lighthearted. Feyre chuckles softly, eyeing the bottle curiously. "What’d you bring?" she asks curiously, her gaze flicking to Rhysand, who seems to be carefully observing you and taking his seat with Nyx on his lap.

"I picked it up at the local inn on the main continent a while ago. The locals wouldn't stop singing its praises so I bought a couple of bottles. It's like...strawberries. Fancy strawberries. "

Cassian's interest peaks at your words, his eyes widening. "Strawberries?" he repeats, an intrigued grin spreading on his face. "You got my attention," he says, his gaze fixed on the bottle. "I didn’t think I’d ever see the day where you brought a quality drink."

You wrinkle your nose. "I pick good drinks," you argued, passing the bottle to Mor to do the honors of pouring it around. Mor takes the bottle, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "I swear to the Mother, if this tastes like piss I’m going to laugh in your face," she mutters, pouring the drink into each wine glass presented.

You shake your head with a grumble, dragging Azriel to the table and taking a seat by Elain and Azriel on your other side. Azriel allows you to drag him to the table, his expression neutral but his gaze never leaving you.

Mor hands the glasses to the different members of the table, her gaze flickering to you with amusement before taking a small sip of the drink. "Not as piss worthy as I anticipated," she muses, taking another few sips. Hums of agreement sound from around the table, you take a sip and you sigh at the sweetness coating your tongue. “I told you I bring good drinks,” you grin, feeling smug at the line of faces that are clearly pleased.

Everyone relaxes into comfortable silence for a moment as they all begin to enjoy the drink. Cassian glances over at you from across the table, a small frown tugging at his lips. He can’t help but notice the tension still in your shoulders, despite the light conversation around the table. "You still look like you're ready to jump ship at any given moment," he comments, his tone lighthearted but his gaze betraying concern.

Your gaze jumps to his, and you force your expression to remain neutral. "I don't know what you mean, Cass." Everyone can hear the warning tone beneath it, eyes flitting between the two. 

He raises an eyebrow at your response, his gaze narrowing. "Oh, really?" he huffs, scoffing at your response. "You look like the wrong thing said will get the whole table stabbed," he says bluntly, but his gaze remains concerned.

Your eyes darken, feeling Azriel’s quiet presence beside you, shadows twisting around your hands. "Drop it, Cassian." Your voice firm, eyes darkening. Nyx holds onto Feyre with wide eyes, having been passed to his mother as Rhysand’s gaze sharpens at the scene before him.

Cassian pauses at your sharp tone, his eyes narrowing in frustration. He can see the warning in your eyes, the silent request to drop the conversation, but his worry gets the better of him. "You can't just show up after disappearing for 76 years and expect us not to have questions," he says, his tone growing impatient. You can’t blame him, knowing that you would have to come clean sooner or later. But his tone is getting to you, that dark power flaring to life within your chest and you feel like you’re about to snap, the air around you thickening.

"Cass," Azriel warns, feeling you coil tighter beside him. Your eyes flash, the room dimming. "I expect a single, peaceful evening with my family again." You growl slowly.

Cassian bristles, his hands clenching at the table. "And I expect some damn answers!" he growls back, not entirely his own temper, flaring. You stand slowly, your body tensing for a fight. An unnatural fear creeps around the room and Nyx whimpers. 

Rhysand's expression darkens as he feels the tension in the room thicken. His gaze flickers to your poised form, ready for a fight, and he intervenes quickly. "Cassian." His voice is low as he warns his friend to stand down, but his tone leaves no room for argument. Cassian looks over at his High Lord, his frustration replaced by a reluctant obedience. He lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he relents.

You don't feel the release of tension, Azriel carefully wrapping a shadow around your shoulders. You turn your piercing eyes to him, and he guides you with a hand on your back, wordlessly leading you away from the table and towards the balcony.

[waywardsou2]

FatherFigure!Logan X Latebloomer!AdoptedMaleReader

I was not expecting this to end up being this long...but I guess it is. I'm really happy with how this turned out. I won't spoil it. But this reader's mutation is my favourite in any universe.

Summary: You were adopted by Logan on one of his errands out of the school. Charles has deduced that you were a mutant but your mutation has not presented itself yet. One day it does, and it's not pretty.

Tags: blood, slight gore, warning for graphic imagery, hurt/comfort, father Logan, mentions of Charles and Jean

Word Count: 1.4k

Logan was sitting in Charles' office. It had been a few weeks since he had decided to stay at the school permanently and had taken up the job offer as a history teacher.

To be fair he had been alive since before the civil war so there wasn't anyone more perfect for their job. Especially now that he was able to get a lot of his memories back.

Charles has become like somewhat of a father figure to Logan, if not a good friend and confidante at the very least.

Logan had not only chosen to stay so the he could have a free room and a purpose in life but also because of you.

He had found you on a missions, picked you up and taken you back to the school. Charles had let Logan know when he was in the area that there was a mutant who hadn't presented yet.

It was safest for you here. Just because there was no way to actually tell when or what your mutation might manifest into.

But as Logan and Charles talked Charles fell silent in the middle of their conversation. Logan's eyebrows twitched in question as Charles eyes went glassy before coming back to focus on Logan. A new found worry in his eyes.

"Charles?"

"His mutation has finally manifested...Logan go"

Logan didn't have to be told twice. He knew at some point your mutation would manifest but it was hard to say when. You were well past the age of your mutation manifesting physically but there's a late bloomer in every species.

Logan pushed his chair back, it squeaking across the floor as it scrapes along the wood. He dashes down the corridors, dodging kids left and right as he makes his way to your room.

As soon as he turns down the corridor your room is in he hears it.

A piercing scream that hurts his amplified senses. A sound makes his heart ache.

He gets to the door of your room and pushes it open.

He finds you on the floor, curled in on yourself. Your shirt ripped in the back and a spattering of blood on your shirt and the floor.

You look up to see Logan. Thank fuck he's here. Before you could say anything, you open your mouth and a scream replaces your words. A sharp throb of pain spreading across your back and into your spine once more.

Logan bends down in front of you and tries to sit you up but you stay tucked into yourself.

He checks you over, as much as he can without moving you but he doesn't need to look too hard. Now that he's closer, kneeling in front of you he can see what's happening.

Sticking out of the holes in your ripped shirt are two bones, partially covered in skin and what looks to be...no way are those feathers?

Are you growing wings?

He hadn't heard of a mutation like this before. One the alters bone structure and genetic make up well into adolescent development. He would have to get Jean to check you over but right now he knew you couldn't move.

He could see the bone moving, growing at an accelerated rate that should have taken a years naturally. The skin and feathers began growing over the bone as more and more of it began to grow and stick out of your skin. The flesh around it was torn and you were bleeding profusely. He was worried about the blood loss but there was no way to staunch the blood without interfering with your growing. He might make it worse if he tampered with it.

So instead he sat there with you. He pulled you over to him so you could still stay doubled over, but your head was resting on his lap as he curled his legs underneath himself. He kept his hand in your hair, stroking it and whispering comfort to you.

He was hard to hear over your crying and occasional cries of pain but his presence was enough. It meant everything to you.

But that feeling was too mingled with fear and pain and you couldn't fully process anything. You just let the tears fall down your face as you tried to stifle your screams. Biting down on your own lip until it bled so that you didn't frighten any of the other children.

Logan watched as the bones continued to grow from your back. Sticking out further and further until a second bond joined the first one creating the rest of the wingspan as more feathers, longer and stronger began sprouting from further down the wing.

It was a few hours before the mutation had fully manifested. You had long since stopped crying the tears staining your face. You lay breathing heavily with your head still in Logan's lap.

He hadn't left your side the entire time. You sniffed and tried to keep your breathing even but even though the pain was gone the panic was not going anywhere.

When Logan was sure it was all over he helped you sit up. Making sure you didn't sit on your new wings and didn't aggravate the injury.

"Can you stand? We need to get you to Jean."

You nodded. Your back felt strange. There was a new weight. A new neurological connection to a set of muscles that hadn't existed before. You could feel the wings, you were in tune to them. Having them felt as natural as having two arms. But moving them hurts. So you let them drag on the ground behind you, rather than holding them up.

Logan took your hand and helped you walk to Jeans lab. You felt dizzy, all the blood loss has made you woozy.

Your bedroom floor and Logan's jeans were stained with it. There was so much.

Logan looked at your wings as he walked beside you. They were a deep green. Something like the leaves of the forest he used to live in during the spring. It was a beautiful colour. It matched your eyes and your hair.

He felt your pain. Knowing what it was like to have your body rip itself open for a "gift" you didn't want.

He was going to be there for you every step of the way whilst you figured this out. He made a promise to take care of you and he was going to keep it. Even if that mean struggling through your manifestation.

The two of you got to Jeans lab and she had you lay face down on her table. She poked at your wings trying to move your ripped shirt and new wings aside so she could assess the damage. It hurt. Any movement hurt but if she didn't clean the wound it would hurt a lot more later on.

She has to cut you out of your shirt because the blood had dried into a sticky brown colour and she couldn't risk getting cotton in the gashes.

She explained to you what she had to do and you nodded accepting what was necessary.

Logan crouched down in front of you and you looked at him from the bench. Forcing out a smile before Jean got to work. You shoved your face down into the table hiding the expression of pain you could feel twisted into your features. You didn't want Logan to see that. But he grabbed your hand and held onto it. You squeezed it each time pain ebbed over your skin. And he squeezed back, letting you know he was still here.

After what felt like too long Jean announced she was done. She had to stitch up a gap that was unnecessary to your wings range of movement. The extra flesh that had been torn from the growth.

She informed you that you would have to come see her again the next day and that you would have to be careful how you slept and moved until everything had fully healed and your body had adjusted.

After that Logan leads you back up to your room and helps you into bed. You don't bother to get changed. You doubt that you would fit into any of your shirts now anyway. You crawled into bed and tried to find a comfortable position but it was hard. You didn't have enough room anymore.

You reached a hand out from your place on your bed. Feeling with your hand you try to find Logan in the darkness of your room. He takes your hand and with the little strength you have you try to pull him towards you.

He gets the message and sits down in your bed. Kicking off his boots and pulling you back to lay on his legs and chest. Acting as a full body pillow for you. Within moments the exhaustion of the day caught up with you and you were out like a light.

I'm so glad I could write this. Staying up till 2am was totally worth it gets this done. I'm so proud of it! If you like this then please consider sending in a request of your own. I would be happy to take them in

[aeternallis]

Colin's "entrapment" line was hard to listen to, but it was most definitely a sign of how unhinged he really is for Penelope.

Ok but for reals, I'm not sure how everyone else reacted when Colin said his now infamous "entrapment" line, but I just love how if one looks at this line a little more closely, it was definitely some semblance of an underhanded (and also a bit silly, lol) attempt to actually keep Penelope entrapped. Haha, the irony of it all. Idk, at least that was my read on it!

Like, it was definitely said in anger as well; he's hurting, and he’s hurting badly, so of course he wants to hit back in some way, however he can. Luke Newton absolutely meant it when he said that Colin reacts to the reveal in the worst way possible, alas.

My very first reaction to that scene: //pauses the screen to yell at Colin at 4am in the morning, “Entrapment????! If you feel trapped, then why the hell are you still going along with it, ya dumb ass!!!

Because really, think about it: Colin was definitely within his rights to call off the wedding, especially when he'd mentioned that Violet had noticed that he and Penelope had not seen each other for some time. It would have been the perfect time to reveal Penelope's secret to his mother, if indeed he felt entrapped by the LW of it all. Violet is family; if he wanted to still protect Penelope but no longer wanted to marry her, he would have been able to count on Violet's discretion. I'm sure she and Lady Danbury would have come up with some sort of plan to deal with the aftermath regarding the Bridgertons’ reputation, as we'd seen with Anthony and Edwina's botched wedding.

Furthermore, it would have probably been the better option to reveal it to her, since the existence of LW does put his family in danger; Penelope herself knows this. Every decision she makes post-LW reveal to Colin is due to the Bridgertons being in danger. Lady Danbury makes a point of this when she said in the last episode, “There is only one other person who loves the Bridgertons more than I.”

Eloise was able to keep the secret with no real consequences because although Penelope was her ex-bff, El still loves her, and besides that, nothing legal binds them as Colin's marriage to Penelope would.

Even when he was getting ready to talk to Benedict about getting funds to fulfill Cressida’s demands, he insisted on making up a lie to shield Penelope’s identity as LW. He knows more than anything that fulfilling a demand like this, all for the sake of his wife and at the cost of using a substantial amount of Bridgertons’ financial assets, may not put his marriage in the best light within his family. He doesn’t want to be forced to have to choose between his wife and his family, so he’s keen on keeping the lie going.

So for all intents and purposes, he doesn't tell his mother, or any of his other siblings (besides Eloise, who already knew); this in and of itself is hella fucking risky. The fact that Colin is willing to take this risk of withholding Penelope's secret identity from his family, the fact that he doesn't think to jeopardize this potentially risky betrothal—already goes to show the measure in regards to how much he wants Pen for his wife. We the audience know this because he waits until the very last minute to tell Violet, and even then, it's not Colin who chose to reveal it to her, but Penelope herself.

Another point: arguably, we can also say that Colin has a lot more wiggle room with his engagement to Penelope to call off the wedding, much more than he ever did with his engagement to Marina.

"A man of honor"? Exactly what "honor" are we talking about here? Colin claimed that he would have married Marina had she just told him the truth, yet when push came to shove and the truth of her pregnancy was revealed for all the world to know, he still chose to take the out Penelope gave him through LW. It’s easier to make a declaration like that when it’s all said and done. Lol Sure, he regretted it and apologized for his behavior later on, but he had made his choice regardless. Y’all can just feel Marina and Lady Danbury judging this dumb ass (affectionate) for dwelling in the past. Silly young man! XD What's stopping him this time around?

"We had been...intimate." Are you talking about the mirror scene, sir? Because let me assure you, you and Penelope have long been "intimate" way before you decided to buy a love nest and take her V-card the very next day you proposed to her. In fact, this is where the significance of their first kiss in 3.02 rings so, SO importantly and WHY it was vital that it was Penelope who asked and said that it would not have to mean anything. Colin knows Penelope would never use their first time together and/or the heated moment in the carriage as a way to entrap him. That first kiss alone should have already warranted that they get married, but Penelope makes it clear that it’s simply a favor, nothing more.

Oddly enough, I’m surprised Colin doesn’t bring up the idea of a long engagement (yknow, as he initially wanted with Marina, but who’s keeping track at this point), considering that would have potentially benefitted their situation. 🤔 His dumb ass (affectionate) was more than willing to stick to the wedding schedule…huh.

Besides all that, I don’t think it’s the showrunners’ intent to “taint” those special moments between them by changing the context through Colin’s (very biased) POV; to believe that to be the case would be, imo, just a bad faith argument. The genre is romance, y’all; these intimacy scenes are on an entirely different pedestal.

Because remember, that “entrapment” line of Colin’s only came about due to Penelope starting the conversation with, “Are you going to call off the wedding?”

Didn’t it almost seem like an afterthought, that he just came up with it on the spot? Hahaha.

I can bet y’all Cressida’s fake ass €20,000 blackmail money that before they’d met up to discuss wedding breakfast plans with their mamas, it had probably never even occurred to Colin to cancel their wedding. Angry and furious as he was, it was never a question of whether or not he still wanted Penelope for a wife.

The fact that it’s Penelope who begins that conversation and opens that Pandora’s box possibility is so, so damn important. Because not only does it show how much Penelope truly loves him in that she would never trap him, it also shows her maturity, in that she’s willing to face the consequences of her actions. She’s willing to give Colin the choice to back out, heartbreaking as it would be to face it, even if she herself would not be the one to pursue that choice.

She gives him the choice a good number of times: the wedding breakfast plan scene, the wedding day itself when she hesitates on the aisle, and the annulment offer after the butterfly scene.

Penelope defends herself softly, but truthfully: she never meant to entrap him, because she really didn’t. And Colin knows this; he would not still love her and want her if he honestly believed she wanted to entrap him. Hell, even if she did, the audience knows it’s a desire that comes from a good place: she loves him, so of course she doesn’t want to lose him. She wants to marry him, because she loves him. That’s all there is to it.

But despite knowing this (imo, anyway), we can also say that this conversation may have contributed to Colin’s downward spiral during the majority of episode 7 and 8, and why he becomes hella fucking desperate to be “useful” to her.

Because unlike himself, Penelope has now begun to entertain the idea of living a life that doesn’t include him—at least, not as her husband. Penelope is brave and strong enough to let him go due to the pain she caused him for her lies and her actions as LW, and as for Colin…well…

(I love it, it’s the same conundrum that Anthony faced in S2: Kate is strong enough to leave him behind and return to India, but Anthony…well…)

TL;DR, Colin’s entrapment line was literally an excuse he gave himself to keep his betrothal to Penelope intact. It’s a line that works in two ways simultaneously: it’s a painful, childish, underhanded thing to say in order to hurt Penelope’s feelings, to get back at her for the anguish he’s suffered. Yet at the same time, it’s also another excuse he gives himself in order to push through with the marriage, to tie Penelope to himself forever.

Because unlike Penelope, the very idea of living without her as his wife, of not having her in his life, is and always will be an impossible notion for Colin to ever entertain.