#there's need to be a dichotomy and it needs to be in favor of one of them!!!

[fideidefenswhore]

There's a tendency in modern fandom to rob Henry of his agency, like saying Anne "lured" or "stole" him as if he isn't responsible for his actions. What I find weird is that seems to have, to an extent, been the idea at the time. A hell of a lot of the Catholic/Imperial faction seemed to get the thought that well, all we do is get rid of Anne and everything goes back to normal. Like Mary and Chapuys act like they expect her to be princess and heir again as if nothing happened and the English Reformation will just stop there and turn back. I just can't get my head round how much people then revered Henry as king but then think he's some weak puppet Anne manipulated and who they can manipulate when she's gone.

Yeah, the thing is that...A) We haven't changed as much as we like to believe that we have, B) Obviously modern analysis of contemporary reports of this period is reliant on these reports, but has the benefit of hindsight (and yet when hobbyists without any background in history simply read these reports absent of any contextualization or expert analysis, they tend to take them pretty...literally? which dovetails into these fandom interpretations), C) That very double negative is the cornerstone of misogyny. Women are ultimately, even supernaturally, powerful but also ultimately powerless/weak, and/or exploit men's weakness, world's tiniest violin.

Misogyny alone is not enough to explain, there's also the political and religious at play with the psychological:

"Anne became [...] 'the evil counsellor.' In spite of Chapuys, the Emperor needed to maintain a civil relationship with Henry for his own purposes. He therefore chose to believe that Anne was bullying Mary (and Catherine) behind her husband's back. In a similar way Mary deceived herself into believing that it was not really her father who was subjecting her to such remorseless pressure, but the wicked woman who had acquired such an ascendancy over him." +

"Her actual contribution to the 'scourge' of Lutheranism [...] was inflated to unbelievable proportions. Chapuys [went as] far as to blame 'the heretical doctrines and practices of the concubine' as 'the principal cause of the spread of Lutheranism in this country.' [This] created [...] a political/religious 'wing' of sentiment [against Anne Boleyn] that was [later] exploited by Cromwell [...] and it was a powerful obstacle in the way of Anne's acceptance by the (still largely Catholic) English people."

For me, what separates is that this subject (although more specifically on the mistreatment of Princess Mary, riffed on that here) is discussed as if it was an untapped timeline, and it's ...not? The events immediately preceding May 1536 do not vindicate or absolve any cruelty on Anne's part; by any means, but what they do prove is that Chapuys was wrong about her being the 'X factor' here, as it were. Once she's subtracted is when Mary's disbarred from succession in much firmer legal language by Parliament. Moreover, the Boleyn downfall was a watershed in court division and factionalism, its aftermath was not a period of 'relative' (or otherwise) tranquility but rather continuance, even amplification, of religious suppression for those that did not adhere to the tenets of the new Henrician 'supremacy'.

Also, let's not underrate the ambition of the 'Marian faction'. They wanted a return to the status quo, yes, we shouldn't discredit religious motivations either, but they also wanted to regain the status and favour they felt they had lost. They were bargaining on the future favour of Mary once she was heiress again, bargaining on the future of Henry having no other children by marriage (so, even Mary as Queen), that's generally forgotten because most of them did not survive to reap (and, arguably, Mary becoming Queen later had very little to do with her faction of the 1530s that had failed upwards, considering especially that Mary was not reinstated into the succession--conditionally, but still--until several years after the Exeter Conspiracy).

[tenok]

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[writerpeach]

Dichotomy

Kiss Of Life Natty x Julie x m! reader

30k words

---

Read on AO3

“So—“ Natty breaks the silence with a lean forward in her chair, elbows resting on either side of her drink—a matcha latte piled high with an absurd amount of whipped cream. A bit clings to her upper lip before she licks it away. "Have you ever had a threesome before?"

You nearly choke on your drink. 

Even for her, the question is bold, nonchalant, and taking you by surprise as you stir your own coffee. It's hardly the first time you've been surprised by what comes out of her mouth, but it's going to take a much stronger coffee than this one for the mental whiplash. "You know, most people start the day with a hello. Maybe a how are you doing. Good morning, even?"

Natty only smiles. "Then most people are boring. Now, come on. Answer the question."

The thing is, Natty isn't most people and can't even begin to pretend she has a filter, nor any sense of decorum. For as long as you've known her—which is basically since orientation week during your very first semester. Back when both of you were shy and clueless, fumbling along the university hallways. She’s always been like this. Bold and beautiful and utterly shameless. Ever since that one fateful day where she locked herself out of her car in the snow, crying her pretty eyes out until you offered her a ride home that ended with her between your legs—because she wouldn't let you say no to a blowjob as a way to return the favor. 

So romantic.

And you've been inseparable ever since. 

"Where's this even coming from?" you ask, dipping a bite of your pancake into a pool of syrup. "Did you buy me breakfast so you could pry into my sex life?" 

"As if I need an excuse for that," Natty says, lips wrapping around her straw, her cheeks hollowed as she slurps with this gaze that doesn't seem the least bit innocent. "Can't a girl just be curious?"

The pancakes here are impeccable—but not enough to distract from the weight of her question, or how red your cheeks feel under the heat of it. "Curious usually implies a level of subtlety." 

"When was I ever subtle? You'd be bored to death." It's true. So much. If there ever was an opposite to subtlety, Natty would probably be their ambassador. If she ever came up to you and asked something simple like what your favorite color was, you would know something was terribly wrong and she might need to visit the university's clinic right away. "Now, seriously, you're deflecting. Just answer the question."

You sigh, pausing before you pop another piece of pancake in your mouth, fork dangling uselessly between your fingers. "Not exactly."

"What do you mean, not exactly? It's a yes or no question. Not a lot of gray area here," she points out with this cocky grin that really doesn't help matters. But fuck her and her logic and the way she's sitting there with those tits all proudly on display when she over more, knowing they'll distract you from thinking clearly. "Which one is it?"

"Fine, no. I haven't. Happy now?" you admit, hoping the frustration in your tone would make it clear enough you're not exactly thrilled at being put under a microscope like this. 

"Really?" Her brows raise. It's not often you find Natty speechless but, here we are. She obviously thinks there's a world where you have a threesome every time you do the laundry and she's confused why that isn't the case. "Never? Guy with a cock like yours and you haven't shared it with more than one girl at a time?"

"Sorry to disappoint," you answer, rolling your eyes. You've shared a bed with Natty plenty of times over the years you've known her, and you're not exactly a stranger to each other's bodies—but still, this is not a conversation you ever expected to have over breakfast.

Natty laughs. "Don't be. But sounds like something we should fix then," she offers, casually, like her suggestion is the same as deciding what to order for dessert. 

"Yeah, I'll just find two pretty girls to sleep with at the same time, how hard can that be? Let me post an ad on the campus bulletin board. Pretty sure I'd find a line halfway to the dean's office."

"Two? I'm the first girl you'd choose and you know it," Natty remarks, smug, no trace of self-consciousness in her voice. And she's not entirely wrong. You're never admitting that out loud though. That would go straight to her head and it's already big enough as is. "We'll just have to find you the second one."

"Easy for you to say. Didn't realize you were such an expert in these matters."

"Please, if anyone is, it's me," Natty brags with a casual toss of her hair. "The hottest girl on campus with a body like this and you think I'm not being shared every chance I get? College boys can't get enough of me. Neither can the girls. Why even stop at just two, when I can just get the whole back row of chemistry class involved?"

The worst part is how plausible that actually seems. 

"Look, it's not exactly a priority for me, Nat. You're more than I can handle as is," you say, playing your best card with hopes that it’s enough of a distraction from this subject.

"Well, lucky for you, I'll do all the leg work then. Leave it all to me."

The way she says it, no hesitation whatsoever, is terrifying. Like she has a plan already formed, all that's left is execution. And you're not sure anything should ever be left to her, ever.

But a part of you has to admit—you wouldn't exactly hate sharing a bed with Natty and... someone else. Someone just as pretty, someone with a body made from pure sin who knows how to play with her, who can hold their own against her. You can't even imagine that there are too many potential candidates that would fit the bill, but you try to not get ahead of yourself, because no matter how crazy the idea seems, nothing is for sure. No need to get your hopes up, so soon.

So you finish your breakfast, with no other mention of the topic—even as her foot trails up and down your leg, a reminder that yes, you're definitely both attracted to each other and haven't done anything about it for way too fucking long.

✦ ✦

The next time you see Natty is two days later when she arrives with a laundry basket at your apartment, with some frail excuse about her machine being broken that you see through instantly. Not that you're about to complain when she starts to strip down to just a thong and a black Calvin Klein bra that barely holds in her generous tits, walking around your place half-naked like she lives here.

Which she essentially does, given how often she spends her nights in your bed.

Before her first load of laundry even finishes, you’re already leaning back against the couch, pants and boxers down to your ankles as Natty strokes your hard length. You can’t take your eyes off her tits, watching them jiggle with every movement she makes. 

The view is hypnotic enough, with this agonizingly slow rhythm her hands have as they travel along the length of your cock, and maybe you're thankful for her washer being broken down—regardless of whether or not it's actually the truth.

"You feel so built up, baby," Natty says as her hands work your shaft, thumb rubbing across the slit and spreading what leaks out along your swollen tip. "Don't you jerk off when I'm not around?"

The gentle squeeze she gives is just perfect, enough to get you groaning like you can’t get enough of her touch. "Not much point when I can just wait for you to do the job for me. What would I even watch to get off?"

"Please," she giggles as the movements of her wrist get harder to deal with. "How many pictures of my tits do you have saved on your phone? Or of me without underwear. The ones I send you when I'm so hot for you, in the library, when you're in class, with three fingers inside myself. You jerk off to them, right? Those videos of me riding a toy in my bed while I moan your name, pretending you were behind me."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't keep things like that on my phone," you say, voice cracking midway.

Natty just laughs and your cock throbs against her palm, giving you away completely. 

"You're such a bad fucking liar. Pretty sure you'd jerk off in class if I sent you nudes while you were there." Natty stares you dead in the eye and your lack of response is all the answer she needs. "There's no way you'd ever delete them. Especially not the pictures from the Halloween party, where I blew you in the bathroom. Pretty sure everyone in that house could hear when you fucked my throat."

"Jesus, Nat—fuck," you choke out, and you can still visualize that night, how ridiculously hot the maid costume looked on her, how hard it was for her to keep her phone recording while you ruined her pretty face, mascara running, lipstick smeared all over and god, you'd pay good money to see that view again.

"Do you know how hard it was not to share that video with the whole campus? How much you came in my mouth? How rough you were with me and how much of a mess I was after?"

It's not fair the way she brings up these memories while she strokes your shaft, squeezing a little tighter each time. The way Natty gets a firm grip while you mindlessly stare at those tits, so close to spilling out of her bra working overtime. This conversation alone is practically enough to get off and she knows that, using it for her advantage.

And even with how built-up you were before, this is all getting you there too fast. "I love how fucking hard you are. Throbbing so hard and ready to spill all over my big tits, aren’t you?”

"God, please—your fucking hands are magic.” 

"That's the thing though," Natty tells you, and her strokes become agonizingly slow, until the motion ceases, replaced by a firm, lingering squeeze that’s enough to drive you up the wall. "The best part of laundry day is milking your big fucking cock. Getting such a huge load out of these heavy balls, it’s such a good thing you have me, isn’t it?"

Sometimes, you wonder. 

Thankfully, her pace breaks from the rhythmic squeezing of her hand, returning to full speed with this twisted smile on her face, because you're pretty sure you were dying for a few seconds. "I haven't felt you shooting on my face in ages…"

"Too busy fucking your tight cunt or these huge goddamn tits."

"Can't really blame you for that. They must feel fucking amazing," she boasts, getting a firm grip and a nice twist of her wrist at the same time, bringing you that much closer. And this scene takes you back to the first day you gave her a ride home—when she refused to take no for an answer. A different couch, but the same position, Natty on her knees—an all-too-familiar sight by now. 

"Fuck, so good, Nat, I'm so close," you groan, feeling her pump and squeeze harder by the second, keeping the perfect rhythm and twisting just right. Exactly how you need her to and every stroke has you inching towards the edge.

"Good. Give me a nice thick, big load. I want you to shoot so fucking much all over these tits, ruin this expensive bra," Natty demands, pumping at record speed, voice edging you closer and closer until you can feel it right on the precipice, 

"Shit, god, don’t fucking stop, I'm gonna—"

One last firm pump has you throbbing hard and cum erupts from the tip with thick spurts as she aims you right between her covered breasts, smiling wide. The view of white splattering across her chest and staining the fabric of her bra makes it even better—It's one hell of a load, given how many days worth of cum she's coaxing out, spurting messily and watching as pearlescent strands cling all over her perfect tits. 

It's just absolutely fucking filthy and Natty’s never looked more delighted.

Once Natty’s gotten every drop from you, she glides a finger across her cum-covered chest, tasting it as she pops it into her mouth with a satisfied moan, sucking it clean. "Missed that so fucking much." 

And the strokes don't stop, milking the last bit of your release even after you're past the point of oversensitivity, but you hardly care when you can't tear your gaze from her chest, a canvas of white painted over her that's a perfect work of art.

"I think maybe we should have laundry day together more often…" you muse, content to bask in the lingering bliss as long as you can.

"Of course you do. When is anything with me not fun?" Natty retorts as she releases your cock and gets back on her feet, not even concerned by the fact she's wearing your cum like her favorite necklace. "I think I've got about half an hour left on the dryer. Plenty of time for you to fuck me senseless while we're waiting, don't you think?"

That’s when she saunters off without waiting for an answer, unhooking that cum-stained bra and slipping out of her underwear along the way.

Never one for subtlety.

✦ ✦

And now, you're supposed to focus on class somehow—a two-hour lecture, right after Natty had pulled you into the nearest bathroom, hopped up on the sink, legs spread and heels locked around your waist while you slid balls fucking deep into her. You can't even jot down a note without picturing her shirt ripped open, tits spilling out of her bra and bouncing freely as your hips pounded into her—or the way she guided your fingers around her throat when she came on your cock, greedy and insatiable for more. 

Honestly, you should have just taken her up on that offer to skip class altogether. Especially with your load still dripping down her thighs as she slid her panties back on, doing the bare minimum to look presentable. 

But here you are now, trying to pay attention, both of you sitting a few rows apart to avoid raising any suspicion. Like it's not obvious when Natty looks back and smiles, hair still a bit of a mess, visible marks all over her neck. Natty wears them proudly, not even daring to cover up the proof with makeup, wanting everyone to see what you'd done.

As the class drags on, your phone vibrates, and you're not even sure you want to check it, expecting more photos of her in various states of nudity. Something you always appreciate, but not exactly what you should be looking at in a public area. But still, the curiosity wins, so with a sigh, you tap at the screen, going against your better judgment to open the notification.

> Nat: wish you were still between my legs

this class sucks and you should be bending me over this desk right now

1 image attached

And that’s even more of a warning to not open it up with anyone around. 

The temptation is strong, but your common sense wins—barely, as you silence your phone and shove it back in your pocket. At least it gives something else to think about while time drags on painfully, because god knows what's waiting for you in that picture. Last time you made this mistake in public, it was more shots of in the mirror, tongue out, her tits not covered up one bit, nothing tasteful whatsoever. Who knows what you’ll get this time, but there’s a good chance it’ll be a shot of her in the middle of getting her guts rearranged, because Natty never misses a chance to document every moment of you pounding her.

Either way, you've somehow managed to last the full two hours, mind entirely somewhere else, and it's a sigh of relief when the professor finally dismisses the class. With relative ease, Natty finds you among the sea of students leaving the hall, linking arms. "Hey, handsome. Did you miss me?"

"About as much as a kick to the balls.” 

Natty scoffs. "You ass. That's what I get for sending a present?" 

"What present?" 

She shoves a hip into you and rolls her eyes, clearly unamused. "Don't tell me you didn't see. Did you seriously just ignore them?"

"Like I'd ever check while I'm still surrounded by other students. I'm sure they'd all love a peek at your nudes, but they have to find their own."

Natty's laughter cuts through. "Ungrateful bastard. Railing me in a public bathroom is fine, but you draw the line at seeing my tits. Aren't you just the innocent one?"

“My innocence is not up for debate. Even if you want to corrupt it with your naked body.” 

"Yeah, an innocent guy who just busted inside of me ten minutes before class,” Natty says as she walks beside you, pressing her body close, tits grazing your arm. 

There’s no counter to that, really. 

"I sent more than just nudes though," she admits and pauses, licking her lips before leaning into you and whispering. "Maybe you should just check. You'll like what's waiting for you." 

"Look, Nat, I know how hard it must have been, sitting there horny as fuck for the last hour, but it can wait." 

Natty scrunches her nose in frustration. "Fine. See if I send you anything again. No more tits for you," she threatens, storming off in a huff with a clear swing in her hips. It's the kind of petty tantrum she pulls when she's feeling extra needy and neglected, hoping it’ll push your buttons. But you're not one to give in the moment she throws a little fit.

"What would I ever do without the distraction? Like you could ever resist the chance to show them off in the middle of class."

"Fuck you."

"Maybe later—if you behave."

"Ugh, you're so lucky you're cute and your dick's so fucking good. Any other guy would have been on their knees groveling after ignoring nudes from me."

"Good thing you're in love with me then," you quip, smirking and only laughing when her reaction is to punch you in the arm. Not lightly either. But Natty immediately latches back onto your arm, refusing to let go when you try to shrug her off, walking beside you with this annoyed look on her face. "You're such an asshole."

"Learned from the best."

Despite the feigned anger, Natty can't help but lean in, giving you a brief peck on the cheek, staying attached to you the entire walk. She's being particularly clingy today, a rare trait for her. "So, bar tonight?" 

"Only if you're buying."

"Baby, when have I ever bought a single drink in my life?" Natty replies, tugging you down for another quick kiss. 

"Guess you'll have fun drinking alone then."

“Too bad, loser. Guess I'll have fun bringing home one of the cute boys there.” 

"Please, they'll go home broken and you’ll be unsatisfied with whoever is brave enough to come try you,” you say, and she knows that can't even be argued, that the idea of her hooking up with some stranger seems comical at best.

She knows you’re right, and that’s all it takes as Natty runs a hand through her hair and groans. "Fine, I'll buy the first round. Deal?"

"One round? Don't know if that's really enough incentive to even leave the house."

"Greedy much? I'm not made of money,” Natty says, bumping her shoulder into yours. 

"Guess I'll see you next laundry day then."

"Oh my god, fine,” Natty finally agrees. “Two rounds. And I'll suck your dick in the bathroom, is that good enough?"

"It's a start.”

✦ ✦

Turns out, drinks taste so much better when someone else is paying. Natty looks more than pleased to have your company, not even complaining about covering the tab for the first round of shots—tequila right off the bat, because she loves an excuse to lick salt off you.

"Cheers to you for actually coming out with me for once," Natty says as the burn makes its way down her throat. 

"Don't get too used to it. I'm only here for the free drinks."

"And the view," she adds, and you can't disagree as your eyes travel to her low-cut top, drowning in cleavage. This little outfit she picked was chosen to do the most damage, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

"The tits are a nice bonus, “ you agree, shamelessly staring as she reaches for another shot and throws her head back.

"Aren't they? Everyone's jealous that you've got these beauties in your face all the time," Natty points out, jutting her big tits out as she runs hands all over and gives them a squeeze, confident as ever. You can't help but laugh, endlessly amused by how much she loves showing off. "Lucky you, huh?"

"Very," you reply, grinning through the burn when you down your second shot. "No arguments there."

"One of the many benefits only you get to experience. Not everyone gets to put their mouth on these. Have their hands all over me. Or even fuck my huge ass whenever they please."

"And humble as ever, I see," you say with a laugh, shaking your head, because that ego is as big as her fucking tits. Natty gets a little handsy as the drinks set in, when the shots switch over to something less strong—something fruity, pink and sugary sweet, the kind that goes down easily as her fingers trail along your inner thighs, gradually getting a bit higher with every sip. The way she looks at you is making it pretty fucking hard to not shove her flat on the table, push that slutty little skirt up and take her where everyone can see.

But that wouldn't exactly fly, nor have you had enough alcohol to give her what she wants in front of an audience.

Before your imagination gets the best of you, Natty shifts in her seat, the movement drawing your eyes straight down when she uncrosses and recrosses her legs, this slight little peek beneath the leather skirt and the urge to fuck her into tomorrow suddenly returns with a vengeance.

"What are you thinking, right now?" you ask, glancing into those dark eyes, thick with mascara and desire.

Natty lifts the straw to her mouth and slowly takes a drink, a smirk pulling at her lips. "Just how much I'd love to suck your dick under the table."

"Jesus, Nat," you reply, knowing it's no idle threat with a woman as brazen as Natty. 

"What, did that not sound appealing to you? Me on my knees with your cock fucking my throat, you pulling on my hair like you love to. Making me gag on you until tears are running down my cheeks and you shoot so fucking far down my throat—"

"I need a stronger fucking drink," you groan, the visual leaving your head spinning. 

"What's wrong, baby? Getting a little worked up? Or is the thought of my pretty lips around your cock making your pants feel a little tight?" Natty asks as her finger traces around the rim of her glass, licking her lips for extra effect. "I did promise you a blowjob in the bathroom, didn't I? Ready to cash that in now?"

"Not a chance I'm standing up now, thanks," you mutter, hiding an awkward adjustment of your jeans that makes Natty grin wide.

"Getting a little hard already, and nothing you can do about that? Poor thing."

"Natty, stop, I swear—"

"Alright, fine. You're no fun. Guess I'll have to talk about literally anything that won't get you thinking about my tits squeezed tight around your big fucking cock."

Yeah, you definitely need another drink. Maybe two. But mercifully, Natty calms down a bit after a few sips, falling quiet for the most part while she plays with the straw between her lips. Over the course of the hour, the number of empty glasses start piling up, so many of them you start to lose track. A light flush settles on her cheeks and she can hardly keep her hands to herself, running fingers through your hair as she downs the remainder of her current drink.

"You know, this place is much better with company," Natty blurts out, words slurred just enough for you to laugh at, because you're pretty sure her tally of drinks has surpassed yours at this point.

"How nice of you to admit it."

"I wasn't talking about you, idiot. You won't even let me suck you off under the table."

You can only let out the biggest sigh, wondering why you agreed to come here in the first place. "Oh, sorry for not wanting to get kicked out of a bar and have public indecency charges added to my record."

"Wouldn't be the first time we've gotten caught," Natty laughs, eyes lit up, and of course she finds it all so funny. "Not my fault that movie was so goddamn boring. Had to give you something better to watch."

"And now we're both banned from that place forever. Thanks, Nat." 

"Oh, please, don't act like you didn't enjoy me bouncing on your dick. How was I supposed to sit through an entire movie like that? If anything they should be thanking us for putting on a better show." 

"You're ridiculous."

"I know, but that's why you spend so much time with me."

"No, it's mostly the tits."

Natty kicks you underneath the table. "Rude." 

The conversation dies for a fleeting moment before Natty leans in closer. She's clearly past tipsy by this point, giggling at nothing and that's definitely the alcohol’s doing. "As I was saying, this place is so much better with company—"

"In case you've forgotten."

"Again, not talking about you. Let me finish a fucking sentence, will you?" Natty doesn't give you time to respond, the second time she's brought this up in just a few minutes. "Not that I don't enjoy making you squirm just by talking, but we could use more company."

“What, someone who’ll let you suck them off under the table?” 

"No, dumbass,” Natty says as she looks at her phone for a second, the bright light illuminating her face. "Look at that. They'll be here soon."

You raise an eyebrow with this puzzled look on your face and take a long drink, trying not to get too terribly invested in whatever Natty is planning. "They? Who, exactly?"

"You'd know if you checked those fucking pictures I sent," she answers back with this sharp tone, looking more offended than you've ever seen her. Might as well pull out the phone from your pocket, swipe through the messages from earlier, and oh. 

There's no hesitation this time as you thumb through a series of photos sent earlier—but they're not of her this time. Whoever the girl on your screen is, it isn't Natty, but she matches the level of hotness perfectly, posing in what looks like a hotel bathroom wearing these tight little shorts with fishnet stockings, a skimpy black top exposing an alarming amount of cleavage—not quite as busty as Natty, but her tits still look divine, as does the rest of her, curves for days with a face prettier than anyone has any right to be.

"What do you think?" Natty asks, watching you practically salivate, and the more you scroll, the less clothed the woman is—standing in the same room with her shorts undone, the next with her top lifted, tits out and barely covered with her arm. She’s completely exposed when you flip to the final image, naked in the mirror, a big smile on her face like she's modeling. 

And what a body, these full hips, long slender legs, and an ass made for grabbing, squeezing, burying your face between and you’ve completely forgotten the fact that Natty's even here.

"She's—uh, pretty," is the best you can manage while still distracted, zooming in a tad closer, to study more of this mystery woman. "Who is this anyway?"

"Pretty? Is that all you can say? Don't be shy, tell me what you're actually thinking. Don't hold back on my account."

"She's really hot, Nat. What the hell am I supposed to say, giving me nudes of some stranger is the last thing I'm expecting, and—"

"There you go, better answer," Natty says with this satisfied smile like you'd finally managed to say something right. "So tell me—do you want to fuck her?"

"Wh-what?" you stutter, immediately shifting your attention back to Natty's gaze.

"Don't pretend like you didn't hear me. Do you want her? Bend her over and pound her real fucking hard into the mattress? She's into most things I am—and plenty we haven't tried." 

"What the fuck kind of question is that, Nat? Jesus—"

"A simple one," Natty replies, as if anything out of her mouth is ever simple. "Do. you. want. to. fuck. her?”

You can't tell if it's the alcohol or Natty's seductive tone turning your brain into mush, struggling to form any coherent answer. "I—uh—"

"Come on, don't play coy now. Be honest, would you or wouldn't you? I know she's your type. Don't you want to just absolutely destroy that big ass of hers?"

The room is definitely spinning at this point. There's not an easy response. So you resort to the most logical one possible in your inebriated state. "Who wouldn't?"

"Good. Then it's settled. You're fucking her. We both are. Tonight."

"I'm sorry, we? Hold on, Nat, what the fuck is—"

"What, you've never had a threesome before, and I told you I would find a pretty girl to join us. So I did."

"Join us? Hold on, you were serious about that? How did you even manage this so fast?"

"Please, did you forget who the fuck you were dealing with? She's a really good friend of mine. In town for the weekend for work and wanted to catch up—I told her we'd hit the bar and see what happens."

"I can't believe—I don't even know her name or anything. "

"But you still have the urge to tear off her clothes and just ravish her, don't you? You wanted a third, I'm bringing you one." Natty reaches out and caresses your cheek, leaning close. "Unless you don't want that anymore. Then I'll just tell her something came up and meet up with her later."

"No, it's not—of course I fucking do, but it's just sudden and all the nudes and now this and—"

"Relax, baby, I've got everything taken care of. There's nothing to be worried about. Say yes and she's yours for the night. We can fuck her until the sun comes up. And even a little bit after."

You inhale sharply, pausing, letting Natty's words sink in, trying not to sound too overly eager when you agree to this. “Y-yeah, ok, let's do it."

"You don’t sound too sure. Be a little more convincing—tell me you really want her."

Natty is grinning as you’ve become a flustered mess, not entirely sober, but unable to think about anything besides seeing this this girl bent over your sheets, whatever her name is, and just fucking her senseless. "God, I want her—need her. Need to fuck her she forgets what day it is, until the sheets are ruined and she’s soaked in sweat, exhausted and dripping cum, looking like a fucking mess and all she's able to say is my name. I want her. I want both of you.” 

There's this impressed look on Natty’s face, like she’s gotten the exact reaction she was fishing for. "Alright, tiger, was that so hard? She'll be here any minute, and trust me, you won't be disappointed."

You finish off the rest of your drink in one go, hoping to steady your nerves before this mystery girl arrives, while also trying not to overthink the decision you've made. And it doesn't take much longer when you hear the chair next to you scrape against the ground, catching a glimpse of what has to be the breathtaking girl from the photos, a seductive smile gracing her lips and oh, those eyes are going to be the death of you.

Natty turns to the newcomer with a pleased little grin. "Hey, gorgeous."

"Hey yourself, pretty girl." 

Her attention shifts from Natty towards you, getting a first glance and looking you up and down. You can’t say it’s easy to return her gaze, but you do your best—admiring this beauty come to life that Natty has managed to snatch right out of your fantasies. "This must be your little boytoy. He's cute." 

"Isn't he? Think I’m keeping this one," Natty teases, possessive in every word she speaks."Absolutely ruins me. Never fails to get the job done."

And seconds in, she's already leaving you an embarrassed, flustered wreck.

"Good choice. I'm Julie, by the way," she says, offering a friendly smile and an outstretched hand, though not hiding the seduction behind her eyes. "I've heard so much about you."

Julie takes your hand with her cold, delicate fingers, and really, she's every bit as stunning as she looked in her photos. Similar features to Natty, though a bit less reserved—a face pretty enough to invite your lingering stare, long dark hair, piercing eyes, and a smile that’s utterly irresistible. 

"Oh, don't worry. Only the good parts."

"As if there are any bad ones," Natty says, all full of confidence per usual, but it’s nice when you’re on the end of it. "Oh, he knows all about you. At least what I've shown him."

"Oh, those? Hope you liked them. There's plenty more," Julie says, like it's nothing to show nudes to a complete stranger, an intriguing mix between forward and shameless

"Don’t worry, he loved them," Natty replies, and you just sit there, in silence, too stunned to say a word. "Couldn't stop talking about how badly he wants to fuck you. Something about him wanting to bury his face between your ass and tonguefuck you for hours.  

"Jesus, fuck Nat, why would you even—" you mutter, looking away, and you think there's still time to make a run for it and never see either of these two again. Your face grows hotter, ears turning red and Julie doesn't seem bothered at all—not the slightest bit embarrassed to hear Natty lay out all your dirty thoughts right here for the world to hear.

Julie leans back a bit, arms crossed, not letting her gaze falter and grins widely. "Did he now? I would certainly love that. Sounds like so much fun."

But the girls just exchange a look and start laughing, which doesn't do any favors for how small and helpless you feel right now. And if that weren’t enough to deal with, Julie places a hand on your thigh, giving a delicate squeeze that puts you even more on edge. "Now now, there's no need to be so shy, handsome. If anything, that's a compliment. Thousands of people see those photos and think the same thing—but not everyone gets to follow up on it.” 

"Professional model," Natty adds, nodding towards Julie with a proud grin. "Don't ever let her convince you otherwise, she's been on every magazine cover imaginable."

Julie gives her own small, soft laugh, glancing in Natty's direction and dismissing her statement. "Oh, please. Not all. There might be some lingerie stores you might recognize me from. But the nudes are just a little side gig." 

"And porn. A lot of porn, mostly anal and—"

"Natty!"

"What? There's no reason to hide it, and I'm sure he doesn't mind one bit," Natty says as she leans back in her seat, and it's rather amusing to be on the other side of a conversation like this. 

"Okay, then, fine. Yes, some porn on occasion. It pays rather well because most girls are more selective, afraid of ruining their reputation or whatever. More opportunities for me."

It's still a struggle to believe a model like Julie is actually sitting across from you, let alone Natty's close friend—because surely they're both out of your league on multiple levels. 

"So, Julie," Natty says, eager to change the subject, and you're more than thankful for it, moving past that horribly awkward interaction. "Up for some shots?"

"Always," Julie replies. without hesitation. “One round, and then you can fill me in on what exactly I'm in for. Or what your boytoy has in mind, whichever comes first. Other than that tonguefuck.” 

It takes everything not to choke on the mouthful of alcohol at her boldness, the blush spreading deeper. No way she's real.

"My boytoy is buying. Whatever you want is on him," Natty says with the same enthusiasm she always carries, waving down a bartender while her lips explore around your ear, nibbling on your earlobe to deepen the red on your face. 

“What happened to free drinks?” you ask, trying not to lose it while Natty makes a show of claiming you. 

“Free drinks were over three rounds ago,” Natty says, breath right against your ear. “Don’t you think it’s your turn to treat us, babe?”

"Don't worry, handsome. I won't break you," Julie whispers, fingers roaming your thigh, further sending you into a dizzy anticipation. 

In no time flat, there's a colorful collection of shots set in front of you, downed the moment they're set down. The burn has dulled at this point, and by now you welcome it, because you don't think you could survive this night without a little more liquid courage. 

"What do you say we get out of here after these?" Natty suggests, that mischievous tone in her voice returning. "Julie's got a fancy hotel suite not too far from here, and it seems like boytoy is already getting a bit restless…”

"Can't imagine why," Julie says with a cute giggle, finishing her shot and slamming it down so hard the table shakes.

"Shall we, then?" They glance at you, expectant with hunger in their eyes, and it’s a moment that makes you feel far too much like prey being stalked, waiting for the right moment to strike. But somehow, you manage to force out a nod while your card gets swiped, leaving you to dwell in the lingering silence. 

"Lead the way,” Julie insists, sealing the deal with a wide, gummy smile, leaning in enough so you can smell her perfume, and god, what the hell did you agree to?

Side by side, they’re absolutely mesmerizing —Natty, all luscious curves and those mouthwatering tits, and Julie, sleek and slender, her endless legs stealing the show, not to mention that perfect ass her tight dress doesn't hide one bit. 

"Right behind you." Again, you have to wonder, what you’ve gotten yourself into—but there’s no time to think about it staring at these two walking ahead, unable to take your eyes off their deadly figures.

✦ ✦

The elevator ride feels longer than usual, and with both girls pressed tight into either side of you, the thoughts run rampant. Natty crashes her lips onto yours first, tongue dipping inside your mouth, running a hand through your hair. She tastes sweet, the alcohol on her breath lingering before pulling away and nipping at your lip. "Nervous?"

”Maybe a little," you mutter under your breath. 

"Don't worry, handsome," Julie says, with this reassuring laugh beside you, casually reaching out to play with a button on your shirt. "We'll take real good care of you."

You're not sure if that helps or makes things worse, but you don't have time to think before Julie pulls you closer and steals a kiss of her own. She's slow, precise—not quite rough like Natty, and a low groan escapes you as her tongue explores, keeping you pulled tight against her until the elevator dings. When she pulls away and glances toward Natty, the pair continue to give that look, one that makes you more nervous than it should when you exit. 

"Not a bad kisser," she tells Natty as she guides towards in the direction of her hotel room. 

"He's had plenty of practice. Just wait until he eats you out,” Natty says, and once again you’re flustered by how open this girl is about everything. “That mouth will fucking ruin you.” 

You feel like your cheeks are going to be permanently red at this rate. 

"Mm, I can only imagine everything that mouth can do," Julie says, but it’s hard to even focus on this conversation—impossible to think of much else besides what lies beneath that dress.

Then a beep. An open door. A handful of stumbling steps later, and two sets of heels hit the ground with a thud, followed by your own shoes as you take everything in. The suite is enormous, brightly lit and spacious with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the skyline. Impressive—expensive, no doubt,

Impressive, but expensive—no doubt about it. Likely the best room in the building with an oversized couch and bed big enough to fit three—something you’ll have no trouble taking advantage of. 

Now all that's left is to break it in.

Your jacket gets tossed on the nearest chair while the two explore the place barefoot, like they’re both planning out all the different ways this night can go. 

All of this feels surreal. Two beauties in one place that you’re about to explore every last inch of, eagerly waiting for you to make a move.

But before you do, Julie heads straight to a corner table overlooking the beautiful night sky—where an ice bucket sits, holding an expensive-looking bottle of champagne, practically an invitation to kick things off. She doesn’t even bother with glasses as she starts opening it. 

"This was here when I got here," Julie explains as the cork pops off, drinking straight from the bottle. "No sense in wasting it, right?"

She passes the bottle to Natty, who takes a hearty swig before setting it in front of you. There’s only one option—taking the biggest gulp you can, with an extra one to settle your nerves. It's sweet and fruity as the bubbles slide down your throat. 

When you hand it back to Julie, she takes an even bigger drink—but doesn't swallow it. Instead, she turns to Natty, cupping her face as their lips crash together. Their lips stay locked for a moment as Natty’s fingers weave through Julie’s hair, and there's something wildly intoxicating about two beautiful girls making out so closely in front of you.

"Tastes much better like this," Natty says against Julie, and you swear there isn't anything hotter than watching them drink right out of each other's mouths. The kiss deepens, neither one pulling away, and it doesn't seem it will stop anytime soon. 

If anything, their session grows more ravenous by the second as you just stand there and watch, taking occasional sips from the bottle.

"Come here," Natty insists with a beckoning finger, and you obey, stepping closer, until you're a fraction of an inch apart from one another. Without hesitation, the three of you come together, all tongues and saliva, tasting the sweet champagne on each other. Back and forth your head turns between the two, leaving you no less overwhelmed. Julie licks at the champagne dripping down your chin before Natty shoves her tongue deep into the crevice of your lips, getting a handful of your crotch for a squeeze.

Julie shifts to your ear, nibbles a little bit as she steals the champagne back. And then Natty lifts the hem of your shirt, peeling it off, discarding it elsewhere as Julie's lips find your chest, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses and licks, this deadly gaze glued on you as she does.

"Are you about ready to fuck our brains out yet?" Natty asks with a devilish smile as you get her dress unzipped, the thin material dropping around her feet in an instant—left in her underwear and this lace bra that does very little to contain her massive tits.

"Never been more ready," you reply with more confidence than expected, falling back on the edge of the bed with Natty following, until she's straddling on top and kissing you again. 

Julie slips out of her dress, sliding into the space beside the both of you and palms at your bulge while Natty unhooks her bra. You both watch how her breasts spilling out—as she drops her bra to the side, your hands can't help themselves, cupping her tits, kneading them softly, finding her sensitive nipples and devouring them. 

She moans loudly as you slurp, and Julie takes a long swig out of the champagne bottle before pouring it all over Natty's chest, glistening against her bare skin. You lick it off slowly, and her back arches at your touch, nails scraping against the nape of your neck, demanding more.

"You're right—this does taste better," you growl against a wet nipple when you pull off, licking up the valley between her tits, tongue cleaning up the champagne dripping over her chest. "Much better."

"So much better," Natty responds, guiding your mouth back to each of her nipples, so you can suck away whatever remains. While this happens, Julie gets started on her own clothes, removing the black lace and tossing it off to the side. Her tits are just as gorgeous—smaller, paler, but plenty of bounce, with these pretty nipples standing at attention and just waiting to be played with.

"Go on, have a taste," Natty encourages, and you don’t need any further instructions, enjoying every moan that comes out her lips when you switch over to Julie, flicking your tongue around the same way. You suck harder, sloppier, careful not to neglect Natty too badly, sneaking the occasional hand up to knead—but these two make you insatiable, switching back and forth, leaving saliva coating every last inch of flesh and lapping away like you're starved. 

"Hungry little thing, aren't you?" Julie teases as your lips graze across her breasts. You're slobbering back and forth between the girls, tugging at Julie's nipple with your teeth as she whimpers at your touch, biting down harder when moving back to Natty. 

You've never been so lucky—lips back at forth while groping the other, saliva trickling down your lips, completely lost in this buffet of tits. 

"Can you blame him? Especially when you're such a fucking feast," Natty retorts, reaching out to pinch one of Julie's nipples as you take over and get back to devouring the girl in your lap. 

"Speak for yourself, pretty girl. Those tits of yours are something else," Julie says, and when you pull away, her hands greedily grope and knead them, as if to emphasize her point. “These big, juicy tits and sensitive little nipples, god, how is he even able to pry himself away from you?"

Natty laughs as Julie continues fondling her chest. "Oh, he’s not. And don’t act like you haven't seen them before."

"It's been a while," she says as you watch her devour those pretty, swollen nipples, devouring them with this insatiable appetite while Natty throws her head back, moaning loudly. "And we weren't sharing a boytoy then."

Natty sighs softly, obviously enjoying herself, a wry smile crossing her lips. "Speaking of which—poor thing must be fucking throbbing right now. Those pants must be awfully uncomfortable."

"Then we should probably get them off," Julie suggests, as she lowers herself from the bed, unbuckling your belt when Natty scoots to give her enough space. Your zipper goes down slowly, pants removed with ease and forgotten in seconds flat, left behind with a straining erection poking through your underwear. "Wanna get more comfortable for us, handsome?"

You nod, scooting further back towards the pillows, giving plenty of room for them to join. Before climbing up, Julie discards her own panties, and slides Natty out of hers, this slow crawl from the bottom up the length of the bed that drives you fucking crazy with anticipation.

And then you've got a perfectly naked girl on each side—all sinful curves and flawless skin and this deadly glint in both their eyes. 

They don't waste any time in having you match their state of undress, two sets of slender fingers underneath the waistband of your boxers, sliding them down your legs to reveal your swollen cock—both salivating at the sight, so hard and stiff, aching for attention. 

"Knew this wouldn't be a disappointment,” Julie smiles, hand wrapping around your dick, giving a few exploratory pumps. She doesn't even bother hiding the way she admires your cock, hand twisting a little, thumb teasing your leaking slit. "The way Natty talks about you, I assumed she might be exaggerating. Glad I was wrong."

"Hope he meets your expectations.” There’s a devious tone to Natty’s voice as their lips press against the head of your cock simultaneously, planting this messy trail of kisses and lipstick down your shaft that's overwhelming as can be.

"Trust me. More than," Julie returns, lips pressed so deep into the side of your shaft before moving up to the head. Natty joins, dueling tongues teasing the underside of your tip, kissing in between each of these messy swirls that leave you throbbing for more. 

It’s already too much—two eager tongues tracing over your aching length, pushing you closer to desperation. 

A breathless gasp escapes as soft lips glide along either side of your cock, moving in sync, and fuck, you have no idea how to survive it. There’s no urgency, no rush—just slow, deliberate licks, mapping out every inch of you. Natty’s tongue drags down to your balls, so wet, so hungry, Julie following right after, mirroring her every move. They meet again near the tip, exchanging heated kisses along your cock, their frantic licks working you into a frenzy. 

"Does that feel good?" Natty purrs, dipping back down to tease your heavy balls, lapping at each one while Julie pays close attention to your leaking cockhead. "You've gone quiet on us."

"Y-yeah," you stutter, still trying to catch a steady breath, failing miserably with their tongues working you over so carefully. It's pure bliss, the feeling of them both licking the same sensitive areas, knowing exactly what to do to wring the most pleasure out of you. "Just, god, yeah. T-too good."

"Good, that’s what I like to hear," Natty says, and pulls Julie in to kiss her, trapping your cock between their lips, driving you further to the breaking point.

And it’s Julie who’s so close you can feel her hot breath radiating across your needy cock. The two swap a few more long, messy kisses, letting your shaft slide between their tongues, and then go straight back to licking, alternating between your shaft, back down to your balls, and god, watching their lips drag along your length has you ready to burst already. 

"So fucking hard—“ Julie says, this constant need to tease really doing you in. 

It’s hard to even form any response that isn’t a desperate groan as Natty's nimble fingers remain around the base, delivering these long pumps that match the movements of Julie’s tongue, and the two seem determined to absolutely unravel you. 

They’ll do that sooner, rather than later, it turns out. 

Their soft lips make a wet mess around you, drooling and slobbering their way across every inch, taking turns teasing around and across the tip while they stroke, moving as a single unit, and with a great degree of attention, so content with the noises you’re making. 

Natty goes in a different direction and places the head right between her lips, letting you drown in anticipation. The moment they close around, a guttural groan escapes your throat, and her intentions are clear—her warm, wet mouth wants to devour you all. So she inches forward, eyes never breaking contact and starts bobbing, mouth swallowing your shaft. Meanwhile, Julie watches in delight, playing with your balls, cupping their weight before lowering her mouth, suckling, tongue working over the heavy sack and licking with expert precision.

"Jesus, fuck," you mumble, with these tight fistfuls of sheets while Natty picks up the pace, a steady rhythm picking up when she descends, bringing you further, deeper inside the slick cavern of her throat. Not long after she reaches the base, burying you to the hilt—her nose flush against the tensed muscles of your abdomen. And it feels better than it ever has. 

"Can't believe you managed all that," Julie murmurs as Natty brings her head back up, your cock escaping with a wet pop. 

“It was nothing. Lots of practice." 

Natty hardly needs to catch a breath, bobbing effortlessly a few more times and your shaft vanishes into her throat each time, nose buried deep and she doesn't stop—not while Julie watches wide-eyed and amazed, keeping her lips pressed to Natty's whenever she comes up for air. 

Now it's both of them jerking you off at once, this messy mix of tongues in mouths while they pump and squeeze, never a moment where your cock isn't getting stimulation. 

"Let me try," Julie insists, giving another lick down towards your balls as the rhythm of strokes starts to slow down. Her parted lips, coated and shiny, hover over your swollen cockhead, swallowing inch by inch, a little slower than Natty. 

It's clear she's just as talented, if not more—and from this perfect wet heat of her mouth alone, you're already dizzy from pleasure. Like Natty, she's deepthroating you with ease, not even stopping for air—no signs of any struggle at all as her head bobs up and down.

"Fucking hell," you moan as Julie releases, saliva dripping from her lips, and the intensity ramps up from the moment she swallows you again, no resistance as you hit the back of her throat, eyes staring into your own. 

"Good girl, taking it all," Natty whispers in her ear, moving hair out of the way as she dives back in. "Not many can do that on the first try."

Julie can't hide the pride, flashing a smile. "Oh, you know—the whole porn thing."

There's a brief look your way, that dangerous glance that has your heart racing before Julie swallows you whole on repeat, throat contracting around every last inch.

"Really thought you'd gag at least once," Natty says, almost disappointed as she watches Julie bob eagerly up and down your throbbing length. There’s only a loud slurp in response, a thick coating of saliva forming the longer it goes. You’re in absolute heaven when your cock slides so effortlessly down her hungry throat, smothered in warmth as you resist the urge to hold her head down. 

"What can I say? I'm a professional."

Then once again it's Natty's turn, this dizzying exchange between the two women, taking turns consuming your aching cock, both eager to impress. One's sucking you hard while the other slobbers away on your balls, a little back and forth that's downright heaven. They move in tandem, these obscene noises, mouths slurping, lips smacking—drowning your cock with spit and there's nothing quite like watching them share in this messy exchange of lust.

"These delicious balls, god, so full, wanna make them empty," Julie moans as they slip from her mouth with a lewd pop. Natty gives your cock the attention you need, swallowing inch after inch, and you have no idea how much more you can take of this. She speeds up on instinct, cheeks hollowing as she bobs faster, bringing you closer and closer to that release. It's such an unreal sight, watching her suck you off like this—those tight, wet lips around your cock, so messy and greedy, while Julie doesn't disappoint either, playing with your balls so attentively. 

"I think you're almost there," Natty states, not so subtly staring as everything she does makes you groan, dick pulsating when she bottoms out on you. "Mm, god, you’re throbbing so much—must be real close. Two pretty girls on your cock like this for the first time, of course it's too much, right?” 

She's not wrong—watching them work together has you desperate, squeezing the sheets tight as they start doubling their efforts. Everything builds at an insane rate, and you can barely breathe, especially with how messy their ravenous mouths get. 

"Fuck, feels so—" you moan, and can't manage another word, the loud slurps of those eager lips getting the better of you. And they both get even more comfortable, going for the kill and maneuvering flat on their stomach, feet sticking out into the air and mouths moving frantically. 

"Let's make him cum," Natty orders, and they shower your shaft with wet, lust-driven kisses, tongues dancing all over your needy cockhead. Julie slips her lips around your tip, flicking and sucking away until it pops free and Natty resumes where she left off—over and over, passing it back and forth while their lips stay latched on, licking your shaft or suckling those heavy balls as they alternate.

Back and forth they compete over whose mouth can bring you to the edge the fastest—and fuck, you can't resist anymore, that throb, that rush coming forth, nothing more you can possibly do when both of their tongues flick so desperately against your swollen head, so persistent, so aggressive—

"Shit—f-fuck, oh my god," you gasp, clutching desperately into the sheets below, struggling to keep composure.

It happens all at once, just as their tongues slide and overlap—the first burst comes spilling out right into Julie's open mouth, spurting creamy white against her awaiting lips without warning. And yet, despite the volume—perhaps, because of it, both her and Natty manage to share in the release, every single drop landing right where intended.

The deluge of thick spurts continue to flow out, each one heavy and thick, accompanied by your desperate groans, and their mouths stay right at the tip, tongues lapping across to contain your explosive release, a creamy white painting their satisfied smiles. 

It’s seemingly endless, and it lingers on by the look they give you, a hand cupping your balls to keep you from finishing too quickly. Their lips slurp and lick up your cum as the thick spurts slow into a steady dribble, and only when they're satisfied you're properly drained does Natty lean in closer, her fair share pooled in her mouth, not intent on swallowing just yet. She grabs Julie’s face and pulls her into a fiery, passionate kiss, moaning into each other's mouths as the hot load passes from one set of lips into another, dribbling off their chins, and you've never seen anything so filthy, so messy—a perfect blend of cum and saliva mixing between the two.

"Tastes so fucking good," Julie finally says, inching away to catch her breath. "Who needs champagne when I can have this delicious load?"

"Better than any champagne," Natty replies, and wipes her lips with a grin as their lips clash again and fuck, you could watch the two of them kiss for hours, savoring the delectable aftertaste.

"So—how much more do you think your boytoy can handle?" Julie asks, looking over at you, with this loose grip on your cock that's still twitching even after that. "Still hard as fuck."

"Oh, he can go," Natty says with confidence. "Think he's ready for at least a few rounds with the two of us. Aren't you, babe?"

"D-don't you worry about me," you answer, still out of breath, glancing up at both of them with the same insatiable hunger in their eyes. "I can go all night if need be."

"Is that so?" Julie laughs, amused. "I'll hold you to it, then. Not that it would be hard to believe when you've got a thick, gorgeous cock like this."

"With you two—no doubt I can last as long as you'd like."

"That's what I like to hear, handsome," Julie replies, and she kisses the head of your cock, which makes you jerk instantly, sensitive still, though that doesn't stop her from doing it again. "Now, Natty—which one of us gets him shoved in us first?"

"That big thing ruins my insides on a daily basis—think it's only fair you get it first." 

"How generous of you. What do you think, boytoy? Think you can handle me riding you?" Julie purrs, fingers teasingly stroking the length of your shaft, the tiniest contact of pressure making you twitch. 

“Only one way to find out."

"Alright then. Gonna ride the fuck outta you, handsome," Julie says, straddling your waist as Natty moves aside, easing herself on top until she's right above your cock. Lining you up perfectly against her already wet entrance, those pussy lips glisten as she drags your cockhead through the wet folds of her slit. And she doesn't even hesitate, letting it all fill her as she sinks down, allowing every inch inside. "Ah, god, so fucking big—your cock is gonna tear me apart."

Once she's got you buried and right down to the hilt, Julie digs her nails into your chest, lifting her hips slightly and gyrating them as they lower, your dick disappearing slowly inside her. And fuck, she's so tight, so warm inside, her pussy so slick, coated heavily over the entirety of your shaft. There's so much to take in, and for a moment she pauses, needing to adjust, eyes screwed shut.

"Holy shit—how do you survive getting fucked by this every day?" Julie gasps, throwing her head back as her walls constrict around your throbbing shaft, this hungry, almost desperate clench that only intensifies as the time passes.

"You get used to it," Natty laughs, admiring the sight before her. Julie, this gorgeous woman you've known all of an hour ago, in all her beauty—naked, sitting on your cock, stretching her all the way open. "That dick in you looks so good from here."

"Feels even better, pretty girl," Julie says, and exhales, starting a slow, steady pace to warm things up. She pauses upwards, stopping at the tip before repeating her movement. Now, a little quicker, your cock slides effortlessly from the amount of dripping wet arousal, and her thighs shake the first few times, body still adjusting. 

She throws her head back with a sigh, savoring every inch, the messy wetness enveloping your shaft, and fucking hell, that grip, the heat is just insane—

Julie is all smiles as she rides, wet and wonderfully tight and clinging around your throbbing shaft, clenching so hard that you can't even process it. She sinks down with precision, her gorgeous cunt taking everything you have as she rolls those hips, letting it all fill her. 

And with your head back in the pillows, the rush of everything comes full circle, with this mesmerizing view you have, at Julie in her naked glory, an image you’ll never stop staring at. Each drop of her hips causes her breasts to bounce, although less heft than Natty, yet still, irresistible to gawk at. And those eyes, focused so intently, never faltering, full of desire—focused entirely on you and the noises that come from your lips. 

"How's that feel, boytoy?" Julie asks, moving those hips, head thrown back when she slams her full weight down. "Pretty tight, huh?"

"Fucking amazing," you answer, voice ragged, heavy panting with every movement. "Can’t believe how good it feels to be inside you."

"Not every day you get to fuck a porn star," Julie teases, impaling herself deeper, picking up momentum and biting her bottom lip when your cock hits the right spot. "This pussy usually gets stretched by Nat's huge toys—feels good having something real in me."

"Something that can cum in you?" Natty suggests, as your hands run across Julie’s toned stomach, up the curve of her waist, settling there as she fucks you, riding the entirety of your cock with every deep, full stroke.

"Yeah, that too," Julie adds, moving faster, only gasping when it hits the deepest, so deep that she just has to pause and savor the stretch.

"Hope it's everything you dreamed of, handsome," Julie says, hands playing around with your bare chest as she rides faster, bouncing steadily on your cock, the harsh collision of skin becoming louder, frantic. "Because it's so good for me, fuck—Nat, why have you been keeping him from me? "

"Because I knew you'd want him, Jules," Natty says with a laugh, watching her body, her tits, her face all distorted from the pleasure. "Didn't want you stealing my toy, did I?"

“Fair point. Because fuck, he's huge," she gasps, going faster, rocking her hips with more power and you can barely handle it. Your hands continue to grope around her fit, small frame—this quick shift, grabbing her ass when she comes crashing down. 

"God—look at how good she's taking your cock," Natty chimes in, now right behind Julie, breasts pressed into her back, running her tongue down the curve of her neck. She starts leaving open-mouthed kisses on those exposed shoulders, leaving behind trails of wet saliva as one hand teases across her perky breasts. "Just made for this, aren’t you? Perfect little slut."

"O-oh, fuck, Nat," Julie moans, falling into Natty's waiting embrace, and letting her fingers play where they please.

"Give him a good view of what he’s been dying to bury his cock in all night,” Natty demands, her hands sliding down to grab and squeeze those soft, perfect cheeks before landing a few sharp, stinging slaps. "Let boytoy see exactly what he’s gonna ruin tonight—"

There's a few moments of adjusting as the heat disappears from your cock—a sudden repositioning with Julie's legs still spread wide, but her back now to you, delicious ass waiting right there in the air. That's where your hands instinctively land, to get a nice, firm squeeze, taking in the full view of her exposed cunt. She's so drenched, dripping down the thickness of your cock—those pretty, pink lips swollen as that full ass of hers sticks higher into the air, demanding you back inside.

In an instant, Julie takes what she wants, sitting straight down onto your length that throbs with need. She gives no pause for reprieve or adjustment, with her head thrown back and immediately takes the entire thing, pussy devouring you right then and there. Her weight sinks all the way down, the grip tight and your fingertips dig into the softness of her ass as your dick splits her wide open. 

"Fuck—boytoy, you feel so good," she cries out, rolling her hips at the perfect angle, hands now reaching back, desperately finding your thighs for support.

"Come on, nice and deep," Natty says, now face-to-face with Julie as she watches the show before her, mouth agape and this clear jealousy that she isn't the center of attention. "Don't be gentle with him. He can handle it."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Julie says, and gasps when Natty starts pulling roughly at her hardened nipples, groping her breasts and encouraging her movements, as she doubles down with the force of her hips. Every part of her trembles the faster she fucks herself on your cock, this slick tightness of her pussy drowning every last inch when she takes you to the hilt. 

There's an undeniable hunger with the way Julie looks back at you, ass slamming against you as her back arches for more—giving you this sinful view of how the slick warmth of her cunt clings tight, suffocating you in the best way possible. Everything from the way her hips grind with a subtle shift in position, hitting a new spot when slamming herself down on your cock, never giving the chance to miss it when she pulls away. 

“Fuck, this feels incredible—can’t get enough,” you groan, the words tumbling out as the pleasure overwhelms you, your grip on her ass tightening, fingers sinking deeper as your mouth falls open at the way she moves her hips with ease, every thrust driving you wild. 

"Hear him, Jules? That's what your tight pussy does to him," Natty tells her, focused on the blissful expression that stays etched on her features. “Fuck yourself like that, ride him, get that dick balls fucking deep inside that pretty cunt of yours.”

Natty couldn’t be any happier watching how her best friend sinks down on your cock, fingers tugging on her swollen buds without mercy. Julie's a whimpering mess now, hips almost on automatic, slamming down repeatedly with reckless abandon. It's a desperate rhythm, no longer just wanting your cock, but craving the release, desperate for that sweet, blissful climax that follows."

"How's he feeling in you, baby? Every fucking inch making you drip all over him? Having that fucking huge cock in your pretty little cunt—he must love watching it disappear inside of you.” 

The lewder the encouragement, the more urgent her riding becomes, taking every bit of you as Julie crashes her hips down without relent. And you just let her do her thing, this seductive, irresistible woman, using your body, fucking you in ways you've never felt, tight and clinging and so goddamn wet when she bounces her perfect ass on you. 

"Natty—god, fuck, he's gonna make me cum," Julie stammers, all breathless, sweat forming along her naked body. Her nails dig in your thighs, her relentless movements consuming you, never giving a moment to catch your breath. "So good, shit, shit, holy shit—"

And Natty's right there with her, fingers slipping lower to find Julie’s clit, teasing and circling the sensitive nub with relentless precision. Despite the tremble in her thighs, they work in unison, getting the most of you. 

The slick sounds of her arousal fill the room—getting wetter the more she rides, juices running down the entire length of your shaft. "That’s it, gorgeous, let go, cream all over him. Show boytoy how good that cock feels. Ruin these fucking sheets.” 

The bed squeaks and groans beneath you, loud and unapologetic with every filthy slam of your bodies. You do your part, driving Julie closer to the edge—your hand coming down hard on her ass, the sharp smack echoing as it ripples, fingertips sinking into the fullness of her round cheeks. She lets out a strangled moan as her cunt begs for more, hips slamming down like there’s no sense of control left. “Oh fuck, I can’t, gonna—”

You grip her body tighter, fingers digging into her flesh, guiding her movements as she rides that dizzying line between pleasure and climax. Julie can't even speak coherent thoughts, not anymore, a mess of sweat, frantic moans and loud gasps when your palm strikes across each cheek, one after another, leaving a lingering redness each time. 

That’s all it takes. 

When it hits, it hits hard. Her cunt convulses, wet heat clenching around every last inch, and it's just messy the minute she cums, thighs shaking, toes curling, juices gushing all over your shaft. She's falling apart so quickly, head lulled back in sheer ecstasy, lips parted and the most obscene noises coming out. Nothing left but whimpers and desperate cries as she clings onto your body while riding this out, drenching your cock, the sheets—everywhere.

Natty doesn't let the sensations subside, though, not a chance. Instead, she continues—rubbing in a fast and careless motion, unyielding, hearing those breaths get shorter while her fingers get coated with Julie. "Another one. Come on, give yourself another one, Jules. Keep going. Look at me, keep that cock in you—that's it, one more for me."

A second surge of bliss crashes over Julie with startling ease, leaving her trembling and consumed by it all. The remnants of her first climax don’t even have time to fade before Natty draws her into another, her body surrendering completely as her cries fill the air and her eyes roll back. 

Julie’s voice trembles as she buries her face in the crook of Natty’s neck, her words spilling out a slurred mess. “Nat, p-please… I haven’t gotten off like that in ages.” Her body gives out, melting forward as her breaths come out in spurts, chasing a full one she can’t quite catch. 

“Happy to oblige.“ Natty smirks, brushing her lips against Julie’s one last time before pulling back. “Alright, gorgeous—don’t get too greedy. Let me have some fun now.”

Once Julie regains her senses, she complies with ease, pulling off your cock that’s coated with her unrelenting wetness. 

She’s only able to collapse in the sheets beside you, face flushed red, equal parts satisfied and tired, breathing so heavily as her fingers trail across the muscles of your arm. "Goddamn. Should've gotten that on camera."

"Maybe next time.” Natty isn’t hesitant as she takes over where Julie left off—throwing herself right back on your lap, thighs wrapped around either side of your hips. She glances over for a moment, before moving her lips to kiss yours, and this is no ordinary liplock—a rough, desperate exchange of tongues, saliva swapped and moans muffled between her mouth and your own.

"I need this cock to split me the fuck open," Natty says, all demand in her voice as the head of your cock drags against her greedy folds. You're already feeling the intoxicating warmth, the impossible wetness that mirrors Julie, somehow, if such a thing were possible.

She gives you a moment to savor the full view—her slender waist that you could hold on forever, toned and tight, a matching canvas to those incredible tits that you've splattered white so many times. And from below, darting your gaze down to that slick, perfect little pussy—so eager and hungry as she hovers, takes hold and lines your shaft up, then pauses for a quick breath. 

"What are you waiting for then?" Julie chimes in, perched on her side, back to life for a brief moment, just as eager and excited for the show to continue. "He's not gonna fuck himself."

"Hush," Natty fires back, and that's enough as she spreads her legs wider, guiding your throbbing cock where it belongs. One final glance before she sinks down in one fluid motion, stretching out those wet pussy lips so they can swallow every single inch like it's nothing.

All so routine for her, easing her way back up before repeating, hips lifting as her pussy squeezes every bit of your cock, a long sigh escaping her lips when your shaft fills her to the hilt.

"God, baby—that’s so fucking good," Natty groans, when she has you down, stuffed all the way inside. When her walls fully engulf your shaft, stretching wide and nothing's been more inviting, nothing more delicious as that warmth swallows you all up. She doesn’t even try to move—and that’s just as much for your benefit as it is hers as she stays still, holding you hostage, indulging in the sensation of being entirely filled. 

"Look at that pretty pussy drooling everywhere," Julie says, still not able to get a proper breath in as she watches in awe. Despite being the same girl who takes a pounding for a living, somehow, she’s mesmerized by how your cock disappears into her greedy little cunt. 

It's a quick pace from the first bounce, a fevered cadence that’s hard to handle. There’s this insatiable desire that compels Natty when she rides your cock, working every inch inside her until there’s nothing left to fill. When she rises, it’s with a gasp: a trail of slick that drives her hips, greedy for more. The bed continues to protest, but she silences it with another powerful plunge, headboard slamming up against the hotel suite wall. 

And if that wasn’t enough to deal with, those tits—it doesn't take Natty long to notice the way your gaze lands, exactly as intended, those perfect fucking tits of hers bouncing with each inch she claims.

“Boytoy really is lucky. Getting these huge fucking tits shoved in his face whenever he likes. Wonder how many times she’s made you burst all over them?” 

“Too many times to count,” Natty replies, pace never faltering. “Love seeing that look on his face when he explodes all over my chest. Don’t think he’ll ever get enough.” 

“How could anyone?” The question hangs in the air unanswered, as Natty’s rhythm becomes a challenge—a relentless slap of skin on skin that dares you to last. 

"Bet she's so fucking tight. Natty’s cunt feels like heaven, doesn't it?"

You answer with a groan, because that’s all you have in you. But that only fuels Natty—her pace turns relentless, those tits bouncing, heavy and hypnotic, and you wouldn’t dare miss a moment while she impales herself to the hilt. 

“Not sure what I want more—boytoy’s cock in me again, or those pretty tits in my mouth,” Julie says, tongue tracing your earlobe and giving a gentle nip, making your cock twitch even more. “Maybe both at the same time?” 

"Greedy little thing," Natty teases, her giggles a momentary distraction while she leans forward, giving the perfect angle so her tits bounce even more.

“Learned it all from you, pretty girl.” You're left unable to form any response as Natty keeps devouring your shaft with every bounce, all while Julie plants kisses down your bare chest, her tongue finding a nipple to tease as you revel in the pleasure.

"Oh, would you look at that? Boytoy likes it when I do this," Julie says, tongue drawing circles, flicking a few times before those lips wrap and suck, the sensitivity growing. And you're lost in the way this wet cunt squeezes tightly, the way Julie's lips tug, kissing a bit before picking back up. “Someone is a little sensitive, isn’t he? Or maybe that pussy feels a little too good." 

"Both," Natty answers with a grin, sweat now abundant down her skin, glistening from her cleavage down her tight stomach, and those powerful thighs that keep bouncing, keep that slick heat working every bit of your throbbing shaft.

It’s almost impossible to just sit back and enjoy the way her perfect cunt clenches around your cock—so greedy, so demanding you stay inside her, holding you captive with each bounce. 

Natty leans in with that wicked little smirk, like she knows exactly what she’s doing. Her tits bounce, practically begging for attention, and you don’t dare ignore it. You grab them without hesitation, heavy and soft in your fingertips, and dig your fingers in, groping hard enough to pull a moan from her lips. 

"Mm, fuck yes. Play with those fucking tits, just like that,” Natty groans out, a sharp gasp as you get even greedier. Now she’s the one sensitive as you cup her tits, teasing her nipples between harsh squeezes. You can’t help but indulge in this feast, pushing her tits together so you can watch the jiggle before dragging your tongue between that delicious valley. Her hips fall into an uncontrolled, frantic pace while you bury your face into her chest, tongue swirling a sensitive nipple before pulling it between your teeth—not at all shy when you nibble, lips closing around and sucking with a lewd slurp. 

"Shit, that's it—don’t stop," she encourages, fingers threading through your hair to pull your mouth deeper. And that's all too easy to oblige, latching back and forth onto each slippery nipple like you're starved, sealing your mouth tight and sucking hard while groping the other, not leaving either without attention for too long. 

Each flick of your tongue, each greedy suck makes her clench harder, her moans dissolving into needy whimpers. Julie just watches with amusement, with fingers lazily between her legs as you worship Natty's chest, devouring her as they bounce right in your face, a constant flow of saliva connecting your lips to those swollen nipples.

 "God, look at him go—so hungry for Nat’s perfect fucking tits. Your cock must be ready to explode, must feel so fucking good in that slutty little cunt." 

She’s never been more right, because you’re barely hanging on. 

You groan through another suck, lips fixated on the heavenly weight of Natty’s tits, tongue flicking over the hardened nipple like it’s your only purpose. There’s no hope of lasting much longer, not when Natty is just as relentless as your mouth is, hips not faltering for a single bounce. The heat of her cunt, the impossible wetness, this insane grip—there’s no fighting the inevitable. 

“Boytoy—need those balls emptied in me right fucking now. Fill my tight cunt, cum inside me—pump that hot fucking load deep inside this pussy, give me everything. Every last fucking drop.”

And what else can you possibly do when she demands something like that, determined to make you blow your load in her in no time?

“Fill her, boytoy. Give her that nice, thick load, can’t wait to watch it drip out of her,” Julie says, all the encouragement you need, lips still attached to the shell of your ear, sucking and licking, blowing hot air. It’s all Natty needs too. She’s cumming hard on your cock, body shuddering, thighs trembling violently while you’ve still got her tits in your mouth, slurping away. 

She can barely keep her hips steady, fucking herself through it all, that cunt so impossibly tight. Natty is borderline begging, whining, this high-pitched sob every second your cock hits so deep, until she just breaks down completely—another violent spasm from her pussy. And there's nothing holding you back any longer, because you're right there with her, moments away from making a fucking mess right inside.

"Natty—“ 

One look and you're emptying yourself into Natty's wet cunt, flooding her with that hot, sticky warmth as your cock just unloads. Her pussy clenches hard, demanding every spurt as it swallows up all your cum, the best relief her body can provide. 

A goddamn mess, everywhere—one that paints her insides a hot, creamy white with everything she milks out, greedy for more, not leaving anything left in your aching balls. The constant throbs have no end with you buried to the hilt inside, Natty helping unload it all, groaning with every spurt while you just stare up at her.

Through this intense bliss, Julie watches every second, unable to tear her eyes away. She’s breathing equally heavy as she plays with her clit, fingers rubbing so fast and unable to stop herself from falling right behind. 

When it's all said and done, you're a mess of collapsed bodies, sheets slick and limbs tangled together. You can hear Natty struggling to catch her breath, chest heaving, her warm, sweat-slicked body draped against yours while the two of you just ride this out together, clinging onto one another.

"Jesus, can't believe how much fucking cum your balls still have," Natty finally mumbles out, body shaking through every breath, on the edge of collapsing. “Hope that felt as good as fucking a goddamn porn star." 

Julie lets out a breathless laugh, fingers teasing your chest. "Don't think anything compares to you and your fucking body, Natty."

“Don’t sell yourself short, pretty girl,” Natty tells her, too weak for anything else. With her remaining energy, she cups your face and gives one more appreciative kiss. 

The warmth of your release still lingers between her tired legs, and you can't resist getting a gentle grip on her hips, until she gets the hint to lift up enough—so you can slip all the way out. And there's nothing more satisfying than seeing your release spilling right out of her gorgeous cunt, stretched wide open, an endless stream of thick white flowing out of Natty. 

"Goddamn—what a huge mess. Boytoy really pumped all that cum in you. Gotta get me another turn on that, he’s all mine next round.” Julie isn’t asking, but demanding, not that either of you would have a problem with exactly that. 

"That's what he's here for, isn't it? I need a shower, so he's all yours," Natty says, standing on wobbly legs. 

She looks completely worn out and you can't help but stare at those curves, her wide hips, her body glistening with sweat, your cum dripping down her perfect thighs when she gingerly makes her way towards the bathroom. "Have fun." 

"Oh, we definitely will."

With the sound of water running from the bathroom, Julie is on top, kissing down your body—licking the sweat off your chest and tracing your abs with the tip of her tongue. "You better have something left for me, boytoy."

Your arousal has no end in sight, not when Julie is giving you so much attention. 

Her lips, full and supple, trail across your stomach, planting soft, lingering kisses, savoring every inch of you. She moves slow and so very methodical, like she's memorizing the way you feel under her mouth. You can’t say you don’t enjoy the tease, these light touches that build ever so slowly. 

When she reaches your hips, she pauses—just enough to let the tension rise, and then she dips lower, breath warm, a preview of more to come.  

"Hope Natty's tight little cunt didn't milk you completely fucking dry," she says, her gaze shifting between your legs. "Because I need to feel how big a load you can empty into me."

Turns out, you have much more in you. 

Not that you expected anything less with Julie’s devilish lips wrapped around your cock. Her hands grip your thighs, taking advantage of Natty’s absence to get you back to full mast, a few languid strokes that gets the blood pumping in all the right places. Then she sinks back down—deeper, nose to your crotch like she’s got something to prove.

And before you know it, you’ve got her all folded in half—legs bent at the knee and obscenely spread wide in the air as she takes every inch of you like her cunt is nothing but a mere toy.

If you’re being honest, it’s a position with her name on it. Nothing more than mindless when you fuck her, really fuck her, so goddamn deep—her body feels completely different from Natty's, but it doesn't matter when you're hammering away at that warm cunt, with this fervent need to explode once again. 

With your knees firm on the mattress and Julie’s legs lifted high, you drive into her deeper than ever, her slick heat gripping you tight—yours to take, to ruin. Every thrust buries you to the hilt, your hips slamming into her with the kind of force she craves, the kind she was made for.

She's all sweaty, legs pressed into her chest as you destroy her cunt, these loud whimpers on repeat, so eager to be defiled like her best friend, to be wrecked in this helpless position until you unload again. But there's something so satisfying about Julie begging for this, about watching this beautiful girl, legs folded, letting you hammer into that perfect, wet cunt, so fucking happy to get used.

It's this wild, almost violent rhythm with the way Julie's feet dangle in the air that lasts a lot longer than you both intended, ending only when Natty's done in the bathroom. The sound of a door swinging open doesn't make you slow down either. You're too far gone in that heavenly cunt to even care that Natty's in the room with you again, only just out of the shower, hair still wet as she saunters around the bedroom in only a towel.

"I could fucking hear you two going at it out here," Natty says, amused and jealous. It doesn't stop her from walking to your side of the bed, that towel barely concealing a damn thing as she gets a front row view of you plowing Julie into the mattress. 

"She said it was her favorite position. Couldn’t resist," you explain, moments away from bursting deep in Julie's cunt.

"One of the best," Natty replies with a knowing nod, letting her towel drop to the floor as she lies across the bed beside the two of you while you use Julie's cunt as your personal toy. 

The sight of Natty without a thing covering her, watching as you fuck Julie, like she's not even fazed by what's going on right before her—is what finally makes your dick explode inside that soaked little cunt, blowing a thick, creamy load as you empty deep, all the way into her womb as Julie moans through every burst. 

"There you go. Pump her fucking cunt with all that thick fucking cum," Natty urges, leaning in close to get a better angle as you just fuck it all deep, filling Julie to the brim. "You like that cock in you? Like when he ruins your little cunt and fills you?”

Julie doesn't reply with words, still whimpering, breathless, barely able to keep her eyes open. 

And Natty can't help but be the center of attention when Julie's exhausted on your cock—proud of the job you’ve done, how you’ve fucked her best friend to pieces. 

"Really ruined her, didn't you? Can't even form a fucking sentence. Takes a lot to make her speechless,“ Natty says with a laugh, fingers squeezing your arm as you have the unenviable task of pulling out. And even then, Julie barely even reacts, still trembling with the aftermath, the mess you've made spilling out of her. 

Natty is positioned perfectly to step in now, maneuvering between her legs while she enjoys that warm, sticky release. The taste of you and Julie mixed together creates this delicious cocktail she drinks right out of that wrecked cunt, and that’s when she starts to show signs of life. Legs spread wide as possible, she enjoys how Natty licks her clean, making her squirm as your cum drips off her tongue.

Now it’s your turn to enjoy the show as Natty takes her time eating you out of Julie's cunt—slow and hungrily, these sloppy lewd licks, familiar with every spot. And Julie just lies there, so exhausted from it all, chest heaving, taking all of this—eyes shut in ecstasy as the familiar, wet warmth of Natty's tongue slips through her folds. 

"She tastes so fucking good, especially when she's full of cum," Natty says, lifting her head for a moment to flash a grin at you. This messy blend of white and wetness smears along her face, lips glossy from eating out Julie, but she makes no effort to wipe it off, only staring up for a moment as she dives right back in between those legs.

“N-Natty—“ Julie is far too gone with the overstimulation as Natty licks far past cleaning up, lapping at her swollen clit, wringing out all the sensitivity she can. 

It’s an experience, for sure, watching the two of them. Natty between those thighs like she’s done this hundreds of times. And before you know it, Julie tenses up—legs quivering as she lets out the loudest moan, and she’s climaxing, hard, all over Natty’s gorgeous face. 

“Couldn't fucking help herself," Natty says with an innocent giggle and takes her sweet time cleaning up the gush she’s helped create, dragging her tongue to lap up all the arousal over her thighs. “Messy girl.” 

There's not a single bit of shame in her eyes as Natty slaps at her swollen, sensitive clit a few times—making Julie jolt, so overstimulated after having been eaten out like that. Julie can only whimper in response—too weak to even protest, so overwhelmed by Natty's tongue as it circles around her throbbing clit. "Fuck, Nat. You're too much."

Natty just goes back in between her thighs for one more taste before pulling Julie close, letting her gather all of your combined release on her tongue. "Aren't I? I know what you like when you don't have a cock inside you."

Julie weakly nods in agreement, sharing another deep, hungry kiss, fingers running through Natty's messy hair as they devour each other, all tongue and spit.

"You two are way too much to handle,” you murmur out, this throb between your legs rising again when they finally pull away, lust and need written all over their faces.

"Isn't that the point?" 

✦ ✦

After everything, there's a much needed shower, sharing hot water with Julie as Natty orders some room service. 

Julie's all smiles in the shower, giving you these sweet kisses as the water washes away all the sweat and sex that clings to your bodies. So easy to lose track of how long you're in there, taking your time to get clean, enjoying one another's company without a word muttered. The second you step out of the bathroom, several pizzas sit by the couch where Natty lounges in a bathrobe, already getting started on one.

"Took you guys long enough. Thought you were gonna fuck each other's brains out in there." 

“Considered it—but not without you there to watch,” Julie replies, sitting down right by Natty on the couch with a full plate. 

“How sweet.” 

Discarded clothes still lie scattered about on the floor, and Natty’s the only one dressed in anything more than a towel, just in her bathrobe, most likely put on only so the door could be answered. It's a nice respite from it all—drinking in the quiet with an overindulgence of carbs and melted cheese as you all rest up and recuperate. 

You're all sobered up at this point, mind a bit clearer now as you let this comfortable silence linger, knowing what lies soon ahead. Julie is the first one to speak up, chowing down on a slice of pizza, peeling off the cheese with her teeth as her feet rest in Natty's lap. "So handsome—enjoying having two gorgeous girls all to yourself?"

Natty giggles, stealing a pepperoni off Julie's piece, met with nothing but annoyance. "I'm sure you don't have to ask. Boytoy is in heaven, having the time of his life."

You nod, finishing a slice of pizza and grabbing another one. “Could get used to this. Not sure I'll ever be able to leave this room."

"Why would you ever want to?” Julie asks, shifting in her seat, mouth full of food. "I have the suite booked for a few more days. Two hot sluts to pound all weekend, what more do you need?" 

"Careful, Jules. Don't wanna scare him away, now."

Julie scoffs, rolling her eyes like that's the biggest concern. "I'd be heartbroken. Boytoy's cock is so fucking good, it'd be a tragedy if we never got to see him again."

You have a hard time believing you could ever get tired of something like this. Quite the opposite, the thought of only experiencing this pleasure with Natty while Julie gets left out—you're not sure you can even entertain it. 

"Don’t worry, you'll both get your fill of me. Can't get rid of me now." The second those words leave your lips, the duo are already eyeing each other up—like they both have the same thing on their mind. 

"Wouldn’t dream of it,” Julie says, with this devious look on her face like she’s dying for an excuse to get rid of the towel wrapped around her body. 

"So, boytoy—can you go again, or do we need to give you a little break?"

As much as you hate to admit it, even after that nice, relaxing shower, you're fucking spent—cock barely functional after all that nonstop use this evening. It's obvious enough too, but Julie's quick to answer. "Give the poor guy a break, Natty—I'm sure he wouldn't mind just watching the two of us go at it.” 

"Is that right? You wanna watch us, then?"

“Do I even have to answer that?” And it’s absurd to think you do, but you’re eager to get a glimpse of just how good they look when you're not in the mix. The two of them naked and wet, sweaty and all tangled up as you watch the whole thing go down—it's impossible to pass on that. 

"I think we can arrange that," Julie says, lifting her feet out of Natty's lap. She shrugs off her towel, letting it fall to the floor, then watches as Natty unties her bathrobe and lets it slide from her shoulders. Now you’ve got two beautiful, naked women in front of you, ready to have their wicked, filthy way with one another.

"I’ve missed eating your cunt, Nat,” Julie says as she pushes Natty onto the couch, watching her sprawl out underneath her.

"The feeling is mutual, pretty girl.” 

You just sit back and get comfortable while they take their time with each other now, lips pressed together in a deep kiss, bodies pressed together in an attempt to feel as much of each other’s heat as possible.

Julie starts to explore, sliding down Natty’s curvy body, kissing at that soft, sensitive skin all the way down to her full breasts. She gives them a gentle squeeze, enjoying how they feel in her palm as she slips a taut nipple into her mouth—sucking with purpose, teasing that hard little bud until Natty's moaning for more.

They've done this all before, you can sense it, the two of them so eager and comfortable, needing this more than anything. 

Julie knows this girl’s body more than her own. The way she kisses her, touches her—it’s clear this isn’t new. Her hands move with confidence, tracing every sinful curve like she’s done it a hundred times before. She isn’t exploring; she’s revisiting. She knows exactly where to lick and nibble, sucking at the places where the gasps sound the sweetest.

There's no rush at all, and yet Julie moves down the length of Natty's body at an alarming pace, as if she can't contain herself, so desperate to get in between her thighs. She pauses only a moment, pressing kisses along Natty's bare midriff before lowering herself, flat on her stomach, head positioned right where it matters. “So pretty.” 

It’s this quick tease when Natty spreads her legs as far as possible to let her right in, and Julie kisses the inside of those thick, gorgeous thighs that you’ve had the pleasure of squeezing your head enough times to lose count. 

And Natty's not so subtly guiding her closer to her aching cunt, moaning as Julie goes right to work. They've done it so many times before that there's no need for direction—Julie so completely aware of exactly how to please her with that fucking mouth, a bit of everything as her tongue glides along those soaked, sensitive lips.

Almost zero effort to suppress anything that comes out of Natty’s mouth, she can’t help herself and Julie encourages it by licking her needy cunt so wantonly, holding back nothing. There's something beautiful about watching them go at it, this need Julie has to show off how good with her mouth she is, craving the pride more than Natty. 

Julie licks so slow and methodical, tongue flat against her wet slit, pressing down and tasting all that delicious wetness, flicking through it to gather up her juices. There's no such thing as restraint here, only an urge to taste as much of Natty as possible. And it's obvious Julie loves every single moment—the taste and sound and the sight of Natty squirming underneath her tongue, this rare moment where she's the dominant one.

"Fuck—right there, right there, oh shit," Natty pleads so shamelessly, like a completely different person, not even caring how wrecked her voice comes out. She's lost all sense of composure in this moment of pure pleasure, a hand on the back of Julie's head keeping her firmly in place where her pussy needs her the most. 

You couldn’t be happier with this perfect view to watch everything, Natty all spread out as Julie devours her, lapping up everything, tongue slipping in and out so effortlessly. There’s this ache underneath your towel that you could no doubt easily relieve, slip inside Julie and pound away while she’s working her magic, but there’s something more satisfying about just watching, experiencing this moment without moving a muscle. 

“Oh god—fuck, Jules,” Natty moans, voice trembling as much as her thighs. “You’re so good at that, that tongue, shit—don’t stop.” Her fingers tangle in Julie’s hair, thighs clamping down around her head as well, gasping loud with every lick. 

“Almost like I get paid to get people off,” Julie says with a smirk and slurps on her clit, happy to make Natty fall apart so easily. 

It's hot and sloppy and messy, so lewd the noises coming from them both, as Julie pulls away for only a moment, a thick string of wetness hanging from her chin before she dives back in. "Hard to help myself when you’re this fucking delicious, Nat."

All this sweltering heat fills the room with everything that unfolds inches away, and you’re definitely not above a few strokes through your towel now, trying to ease a little bit of tension for yourself. Nothing could keep your eyes from this scene, enjoying every second, Julie sliding her fingers in and curling them so deep while her tongue continues to assault her swollen clit, pulling more moans out of her. 

The way Natty’s thighs keep Julie right where she needs her, grinding her messy cunt against her face, you’ve never seen her so desperate. These frantic licks have no plans of stopping, keeping pace, and it doesn’t take much more for the pleasure to overwhelm her, letting out all these breathy, broken moans, lips parted when Julie takes her over the edge. 

Fingers digging into Julie’s scalp, the moment Natty hits that peak is fucking gorgeous, a look of sheer pleasure on her contorted face, mouth wide open and eyes screwed shut as she screams in bliss. Her messy thighs quiver around Julie's head, and there’s no end in sight, gasping for air as she keeps lapping at juices that spill out unabated, slurping up all that wetness and you're happy to sit back and enjoy the show.

It's almost unbelievable how often Natty has gotten off today, but this is like something else entirely. A delicious high that lasts a lot longer, body in shambles, barely able to contain herself, shuddering so intensely, one spasm right after another.

"Shit, Jules—I need a minute. W-wait, fuck, I need a fucking minute," Natty says, all desperate in tone when she comes down. Yet Julie doesn’t seem exactly interested in that at all, kissing at her sensitive thighs with purpose, finding her clit again with her tongue for a few more indulgent licks.

"Not a chance, pretty girl," Julie laughs, relentless in her words, middle finger running through her slick folds. 

"Jules, please, I wasn't kidding. I'm so, fuck—sensitive, oh f-fuck," Natty can only murmur with a pitiful little whine, clutching the couch cushions and looking over at you for help.

"No, don't even try to look at boytoy like that. I'm not done with you," Julie replies. Her mouth seals tight right around her clit, sucking at it until Natty yelps in agony, unable to form proper words as she so desperately tries. It's a delicious torment, but that mouth doesn't linger there for long, pulling away.

And then she looks to see Natty looking so pathetic, face flushed with eyes almost teary, positioning herself in just the right way. Julie grabs a leg to interlock their bodies how she pleases, throwing it over her shoulder and rubbing her cunt along Natty's, not hesitating to go at a vigorous pace.

This newfound friction makes Natty lose it, still so sensitive from before, not even able to react beyond these intense shudders and frantic whimpers. It's this perfect symphony as Julie grinds her pussy right along Natty's slickness, arousal smearing and sticking to each other, messy flesh kissing with Julie leading the charge. 

"Too much, gorgeous? Yet you're not even asking me to stop," Julie chuckles, grinding without the slightest remorse, getting herself off without any real concern for Natty. All those messy fluids flow together so nicely, Julie's glistening cunt rubbing all along Natty's, pulling out every last whimper and whine that she can manage. “You’re so wet, just like me. This poor couch is going to be ruined.” 

Natty only has the strength to try and match Julie's pace, because her pride would never let her back down. 

Her clit is absolutely tormented by all the action—every time it rubs up against Julie's own little swollen bud is far too much, but she can hardly pull herself away. Because she's determined, hips moving of their own volition, sliding forward and rubbing right back with the same vigor, refusing to let Julie have all the satisfaction.

And now you definitely need to give yourself some relief, letting that towel fall and revealing just how hard you are, stroking away as you watch this pornographic display right before you, these two grinding on each other, intoxicated by desire.

"Your cunt feels so good, Nat. Almost as good as boytoy's big fucking dick," Julie says, moaning so shamelessly through the messy friction as her juices mingle with Natty's. They're fucking each other like you're not even here, writhing around without restraint, only focused on sharing an orgasm together and using each other for that ultimate result.

There's nothing for Natty to add, ignoring Julie and focusing her attention on their heated grind, the sensitivity having faded a little, now able to put her all into this. You love to watch as the tension builds between the two of them, working towards release, that heavenly image of sensitive flesh rubbing together, all the arousal smeared everywhere. 

Julie doesn't relent in the slightest, merciless with how her pussy just rides against Natty's, moans mixing together with the slick sound of wetness. Natty can only groan and grind right back, struggling not to break first, the pleasure fading from torture to divine delight, enjoying how Julie’s heat feels up against her.

"Jules—oh f-fuck, feels so good, god—“ 

You have no idea who hits the breaking point first, but all the grinding leads to one thing, gasping out at the exact same moment with simultaneous bliss. Neither girl can hold back an expression that mirrors the other, nor a mixture of arousal that gushes right out on the couch below and leaves a sticky mess all over one another.

This intense shared orgasm hits hard for Natty in particular, who hasn't had a chance to fully come down from the previous one. Her clit feels even more sensitive now, whole body practically convulsing against Julie's soaked, hot flesh. There's no end to their noises, breathlessly grinding to an end, Natty left the worst of the two, absolutely trembling, gasping to ride it out. Julie's just grinning through it, watching her quiver, content that she's the one left looking so composed and collected.

It's only when they come down together, looking spent and tired and so gorgeous with their naked bodies glistening with sweat and juices, trying to catch their breath, that Julie gives Natty a short peck on the lips. It's nice and relaxed, a sweet gesture—like they've actually forgotten they have an audience until Julie pulls back and spots you sitting there in a stupor, your hand having slowed down a while back.

"Have fun watching us, handsome? Hope you got something out of it."

“Y-yeah, think I’m good to go now. Fuck, that was just—“

“Hottest thing you’ve ever seen?” Natty says, with this weak tremble in her voice, pretending she’s not totally wiped after all that.

"I think we riled him all up. Poor thing. Maybe he needs some help, you think?" Julie asks, still a bit out of breath.

It takes no further convincing. Julie's already up and off the couch, grabbing you by the cock to lead you towards the bed, with Natty following in tow. All this attention shifts right on you, Julie behind you and Natty right in front, with hands and lips roaming across your body—

"Break time is over, boytoy. What do you wanna do to us?" Natty asks, as they both work in unison. Julie's on her knees, kissing down the small of your back, hand on your hip while she massages your balls in her free hand. On the opposite side, Natty works her fingers around your shaft, thumb rubbing a little tease along the sensitive underside of the tip.

"F-fuck... everything. I wanna do everything with you two."

"Anything specific? This big fucking dick has something special in mind. Doesn't it?" Natty chimes in, fist pumping around your aching shaft. You share a look between them, their naked bodies, those pretty faces—it's impossible to even think about choosing one.

“Don't even know who to ruin first? Can’t blame you,” Julie says as she rises, lips pressed close to your ear, breath hot on your neck. "How about you start with Nat and finish inside me, handsome?"

"Sounds perfect." 

There's a kiss from each of them on your lips, one at a time as they assemble together on the bed with eager anticipation. Julie on her back, Natty on top, breasts squished together, the two of them horizontal and entangled in a heated mess of lips and tongues. 

And part of you just wants to watch them go at it again—but your cock has other intentions. 

"Hang on, boytoy. You're forgetting something,” Julie starts, and it's a short pause that stops you from joining them on the bed, looking a little puzzled when you glance in their direction. "Lube's in my purse. The black bag on the table." 

"Lube? What for?" Natty asks with feigned innocence and a coy little smile, like she doesn't already know why.

"For your ass, obviously."

That's more than enough invitation to rummage around Julie's bag, not even shocked to see what else is stuffed inside—toys, handcuffs, a blindfold, even more fun. Without much trouble, you find what you're looking for, a bottle of clear liquid in the main pocket. And it doesn’t even feel close to full, like it's already seen some use, the curiosity driving you wild as you climb up onto the bed.

Julie's already gotten impatient, playing with Natty's tits in the meantime while she gets right in position, ready and waiting on all fours and points that perfect, round ass right in your direction. And you waste no more time as you watch this lewd display, lubing up your cock like it’s been destined to go here all along. It's just a few strokes and you're already aching to put your dick to use, ready to sink right between Natty's supple cheeks.

The anticipation builds beyond belief as you push a slick finger into her puckered hole—easing it in slowly. But it's clear she's more than ready, and a few gentle pumps is more than enough prep, because this isn't the first time Natty's taken you right here.

Countless times, you’ve gone through this routine, and she's pretty fucking used to it, as evident by the lack of resistance when your finger slips in without any sign of a struggle.

"Mm, need that fucking cock in my ass right now, boytoy. Don't keep a girl waiting." 

You wouldn’t dare dream of it. And then you're behind Natty—one hand grabbing a handful of that big ass, while the other guides your throbbing cock forward to that slick opening. You can tell Julie is watching everything so carefully, taking full note of Natty's expression as she waits to be filled. 

"Hope you're not planning on being too gentle with her. Wanna see that fat ass stretched out properly. Better fucking ruin her.” 

"As if that was ever up for debate," Natty says, that confidence turning into a soft moan when your swollen cockhead disappears between her cheeks, sinking right into her tight little asshole. "Oh fuck, that's so good—“

There's no initial resistance, that ass just consumes the entire head of your cock, swallowing it up in such an instant as you ease inside. No indication of anything but pleasure, either. Natty is a pro with this—knows how to take a dick up her ass like no other, like it's second nature to her. Not a second more wasted as you slide deeper inside this tight, slippery hole, stretching it open that much more.

"Give it to me, boytoy. I can take it—god, that big fucking dick better destroy my asshole." 

You're already sinking balls deep into Natty when she says that, both hands gripping at those sinful wide hips—holding onto her tightly as your cock stretches her out inch by inch. It's tight—it's so goddamn tight, with your cock forcing its way deeper into that snug, unyielding hole. The resistance only makes it better, every inch sliding deeper until you're buried to the base, balls flush against her cheeks. 

“Jesus, Nat,” you growl, needing a moment to catch your breath. “Your tight ass is fucking made for this. Gripping me like it never wants to let go.” 

You don’t hesitate—dragging almost all the way out before slamming back in hard enough to jolt her forward. Her ass ripples from the impact, swallowing your cock whole in one relentless plunge. 

Julie watches with a crooked smile. "You'll do anything to get that dick up your ass, won't you?" she asks, amused, already knowing the answer. But you’re barely aware of her voice, your entire focus locked on the way Natty’s ass clenches around your cock like it’s trying to keep you there forever. The way she reacts to every thrust, every brutal slam of your hips, is fucking addictive—tightening, aching for more. 

The angle is obscene—every thrust driving deep into her ass, the gape of her puckered hole increasing the faster you pump into her. The sweet noises she makes are just a bonus, encouraging you to drive even harder, those perfect cheeks bouncing off your hips with every thrust. 

Julie leans in closer, her breath brushing hot across Natty’s ear. “God, look at you. Getting used like a toy and loving every second.”

"Fuck, Nat—this ass is too fucking good. Needed this for far too long," you groan out, so in disbelief of how tight Natty's asshole feels around you. There's this heavy sigh escaping her lips, and it's hard not to notice the movement below—because she’s riding two fingers while getting her ass plowed, desperate for more pleasure.

"Harder, boytoy," Natty breathes out, glancing back at you with this demanding gaze. "Fuck my ass as hard as you can—I told you to ruin me."

You oblige without another thought, a firm, dominating grip on her hips, making sure there's no escape when you crash hard into her—demonstrating just what you're capable of, showing no mercy. There's this filthy sound on loop, flesh slapping with each deep thrust, and the sight before you is just divine, staring down at her plump ass jiggling away with your cock sunk so deep inside that hole.

“Must feel so good, pounding her ass. Can only imagine how tight she is. I’m a little jealous I’ve only fucked her with a strap.” 

“Would have loved to see that,” you say back, throbbing at the idea of Natty getting wrecked by the older girl, moaning just like she is in front of you. The thought adds fuel to the fire as you spank those full cheeks, wanting them redder than you’ve ever seen before with every aggressive pump of your hips, savoring how tight her ass gets whenever you give a good strike.

“Maybe someday you can.” 

“Hey—I know you can slap my ass harder than that,” Natty demands over her shoulder, nothing ever enough for her. That’s your cue to indulge, one harsh slap after the next that echoes with your cock hammering away, all while those cheeks turn a brighter shade of red.

She sounds so fucked out as you do what’s asked, rubbing out the sting only to make it return once more. And now there’s this beautiful sheen of sweat forming on Natty’s delicious body as you pound deep, sliding your hands up her bare back before leaning forward to capture a handful of those scrumptious tits. 

“Pretty little slut—this ass is mine,” you growl, hands sliding up to cup her bouncing tits from underneath, hungry to feel every ounce of her as you bury your cock impossibly deep.

Your hands roam her chest, palms rough against the softness of her tits as they bounce between deep thrusts. You give them a harsh slap, loving the way they jiggle under your grip. Natty lets out a sharp gasp, back arching deeper, the sound of your hips colliding with her ass turning into a perfect soundtrack you can’t get enough of. And she stays face down on Julie’s warm, naked body, ass high—presenting that tight, puckered hole like a gift. 

"Boytoy really loves tearing that asshole apart, doesn't he?” Julie asks, enjoying the view herself of how you roughly handle Natty, groping her tits and slapping them in between. “God, I can't wait to see what that cock does to me.” 

"Can't fucking help it—this tight fucking ass feels too goddamn good."

There's nothing more from Natty, not when she can hardly string thoughts into words, letting out nothing but sinful, depraved moans. It’s impossible to focus on anything but that hungry little asshole, and those pillowy cheeks that give this unforgettable view, your cock sinking between them like it belongs there. 

“He’s really fucking you, Nat. His thick cock must be tearing your poor asshole apart, can't even imagine. Boytoy looks way too eager to blow that load into you."

She’s not wrong, god she isn’t, because the sight before you is nothing short of hypnotic—the way your dick slides between Natty's plump cheeks, plowing deep into her stretched asshole, there’s never been anything better. 

"Y-yes, need you to cum, give me it—god, pump it deep in my ass," Natty pleads, and her voice sounds so strained, so broken in between your tireless thrusts. 

Not that you'd ever refuse a request like that. It’s not even fair, the things Natty says to get you to explode, gets you all riled up so you’ll fuck her like this, hips snapping back so violently while you throb inside her, every bit desperate to burst.

You can hardly control yourself anymore, hands returning to her wide hips where you belong, fingertips digging deep into that soft, sweaty flesh. Every bit drunk on lust, you pull Natty back on your cock whenever you slam every throbbing inch into her ass, no longer able to think straight while you chase this craving. 

"So fucking close, Nat—gonna fucking fill you up," you groan through clenched teeth, using every last drop of energy thrown into ravaging her. The moans that spill from her throat are a delicious treat, but those ass cheeks smacking, bouncing against your hips? That's the cherry on top. 

There's no choice in the matter, really, when you look down at the way Natty takes you. She clenches without relent, stretched to accommodate every inch while you pound her like this, tightening up beyond belief—and you can’t take another moment of it. 

“Natty—“ 

With one final, forceful thrust, you cling to those divine hips, burying deep as the bliss consumes you. And while Julie watches every moment, you let go as your cock throbs like never before, emptying everything deep inside where Natty needs it the most—right inside her warm little asshole that demands every bit of your thick seed. 

Every violent throb, every loud groan—Natty is all to blame for it as your balls empty, every spurt a new hit of pleasure. Her body claims it all with nothing to spare, milking every last drop you can give, and already it’s overflowing before your thrusts begin to wind down.

"There you go, boytoy. Empty those heavy fucking balls into this slut,” Julie says, unable to tear her gaze away, and she’s more than pleased to watch her best friend get filled to the brim. And you—you’re happy to oblige, the deep relief etched on your face while your cock spurts an endless hot, sticky mess inside.

"Fuck, so full, love all that hot cum dumped right in my ass…” Natty murmurs, sweat glistening all over her decadent body

Whether it’s the sensation of being inside Natty, or having a second pair of eyes watching—you keep emptying like there’s no end. Spurt after spurt, throb after throb, and when it finally slows, you're clinging tight to Natty's body like you’ll collapse otherwise, making a poor attempt to catch your breath. 

Julie on the other hand is quite the opposite, kissing all over Natty, lips pressing against her sweaty neck. You have just enough in you to match those same efforts as you stay hilted deep inside her ass, both showering her with kisses, both sides of Natty covered in affection.

"You're so perfect, Nat, holy fuck—you have no idea what you do to me," you groan out, planting another kiss on her lips, stealing them away for a moment from Julie.

"Think I have an idea with all this cum in my ass, boytoy."

Buried deep, you bask in this high, and there’s all the time in the world to wait for Natty’s lips, Julie far too preoccupied with them. And that’s perfectly fine, because you’re unwilling to part from her warmth, kissing everywhere else in the meantime. But somehow, when the bliss starts to dwindle, you find a way to withdraw from that insane grip, inch by inch—leaving behind a deluge of cum that gushes out of that freshly fucked hole, along Natty's thighs and onto Julie beneath.

"Really filled her up, didn’t you, boytoy? She looks fucking destroyed," Julie says with a smug little laugh, all eager to watch the aftermath. Now that you’ve separated, Natty slowly turns around to face you, giving Julie a much better view of how it all oozes out, a goddamn mess you’ve left in her keeps trickling out. 

Julie can't help but slide a finger in there, playing with your load like she’s trying her hardest to keep it dripping out of her ass. "H-hey, that’s mine, you greedy little whore," Natty replies, almost embarrassed with how she just can't seem to stop leaking your load.

"Friends share, Nat.“ 

Pushing her tongue in this time, Julie gets as deep as she can when she spreads Natty apart to get a good taste. The mess you’ve left inside is more than enough for Julie to enjoy herself, licking up whatever cum she can gather up like she’s famished, flicking her tongue in circles around that stretched opening—insatiable for more. 

"F-fuck, Jules," Natty moans, letting her best friend play with her ass, eyes closed while Julie gives your load all the attention in the world. Her tongue can’t help but bury inside so deep, earning all these shameless groans from Natty as her slick mouth goes to work, nose pressed into those squishy cheeks while she devours your cum right out of that wrecked ass. 

"Tastes as good as it looks," Julie murmurs, flashing a sinful smirk as she slides two fingers back in Natty's ass, sucking them clean with a satisfied moan—not hiding how much she likes it when she turns in your direction. “Ready to pound me next, boytoy?” 

The answer is of course, a resounding yes that you can’t quite get out while Julie keeps eating Natty’s ass, hoping to find more of your fresh load that hasn’t leaked out yet. 

"Go on, shove your tongue in her ass," Natty encourages, voice still a bit weak, almost inaudible. "Isn't that what you wanted to do when you first saw her?”

"Y-yeah, something like that.” 

"Perfect," Julie replies. "Where do you want me, handsome?”

Where don't you, really? So many options—Julie on her back, or lying face down on her stomach, maybe on her knees with that perfect ass in the air. But looking around at the bedroom, at how Natty's already on the verge of collapse, you think maybe there's a better option. The couch works, but it's not exactly what you had in mind, and the bathroom would deprive Julie of an audience, so you choose a perfect alternative. 

“Come here.“

And she listens, climbing off the bed as  she follows behind, gripping your cock in her tight fist and refusing to release. You lead her over to one of the massive windows in the spacious suite, one that overlooks the city with the second best view, the first where you’re about to bury your face. 

"This what you want, handsome? To have your way with me right here?" There’s nothing you’ve wanted more. The thought of pressing Julie’s naked body against the glass—there’s no other option. 

"More than anything."

Just like that, Julie is quick to face the window, primed to be pinned up against it. Her breasts squish against the cold glass, delicious ass raised up in full view, and already there's this smile plastered on her face as you get down on your knees without hesitation. Still, you’re not sure how you ended up in this hotel, but dead set on tongue-fucking Natty’s best friend—the last box to check to fulfill your fantasies. 

"That tongue. I want it, boytoy. I know what it does to Nat, need it in my ass—shove it in deep until you're ready to pound me," Julie says, making demands on her own with hands pressed against the glass to prop herself up, the reflection of her pretty face staring back—her ass right in your face.

But you can’t just dive right in yet, fingers tracing along the curve of those ample cheeks and just savoring how soft Julie’s skin is with these perfect cheeks that equal Natty's, maybe even rivals. 

Impossible not to stare at those deadly curves as you get both hands on each side, spreading her open—and then a long, slow lick from the back of her thigh up, until you reach her puckered little asshole. That earns you the most delicious whimper, one that you need more of as you swirl your tongue around, teasing the rim of Julie’s ass with the tip of your tongue. 

Not that you have the patience for teasing her long, a few more flicks until you bury your face in between her asscheeks, plunging your tongue in that tight hole so eagerly to slide right inside. Julie lets out a loud gasp, one that sounds so beautiful as you get in deep, taking these deliberate licks while you fuck her tight little hole with your tongue. 

"Oh shit, that's so good," Julie cries out with this pathetic moan that doesn’t hide the neediness in her voice, palms flattened against the glass. For a moment, you catch her reflection, tongue going crazy with all these desperate flicks. It’s everything you’ve craved ever since the moment you knew of Julie's existence, and now that it’s all reality, you’re not going to back down. 

“F-fuck, not even Natty is this good at eating my ass—you're going to fucking wreck me with that tongue, don’t stop.” 

As if anything in this world could get you to. You’re not intent on giving any response either other than keeping her ass spread open, giving all the access your tongue needs to get in there deep, to get those moans spilling from Julie while you continue this feast. 

Her breathing stays ragged as your probing tongue knows just what she needs, slowly drawing out every single gasp and whimper, hands digging into that pillowy flesh while you flick around with purpose, tongue-fucking this delicious ass like you’ve been craving. 

“God, Julie,” you groan as you take a brief moment to come up for air, diving right back into that tight hole all slippery with saliva. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted this.” 

She moans at the way your tongue lavishes at her puckered hole that clenches around your tongue, and you circle around before you plunge in deep, in and out at a furious rhythm. And you keep this up, keep those cheeks spread while buried deep in her asshole, pulling out as much pleasure out of Julie as you can. 

“I think I do, god, that’s so—feels so fucking good when you shove that tongue up my ass. Is this everything you wanted, boytoy?”

You don’t answer with anything but more sloppy licks, and Julie’s hands slip as they slide along the glass, desperate to push back and shove her ass in your face as much as possible. "If this is how it feels when you're eating my ass, can't wait to have your thick fucking cock in me, stretching me out..."

Julie trails off, and the next moan she chokes out sounds more broken as you can barely pull back from her between her cheeks, just needing more and more with your tongue slipping back inside. There’s not one bit of resistance while you slide your tongue back in her hole, to feel it clench tight and draw you back inside again, exploring every bit of this ass until she's fighting just to stay on her feet.

It goes without saying that Julie is in love with the way you work her like this, and your tongue thrusts back and forth like you’ll never be able to get enough, all sloppy and primal while you indulge on it, savoring every noise you tear from her mouth.

She's going to fall apart, having to close her eyes and fight like hell just not to collapse in bliss. It's a struggle to let out anything but broken words and endless gasps as your tongue fucks her, leaving her with this wicked desire to finally feel that throbbing cock fill up her perfect ass.

And when you can tell that Julie is seconds away from toppling over, that's the moment when you reluctantly pull away, dragging your tongue away with a wet little slurp—your saliva leaving her asshole glistening.

"Julie, god, this ass—" you groan, nearly out of breath from all the work your tongue has done. "That was everything I expected and more."

A desperate gasp falls from Julie's lips, unable to properly speak as her tits smash up against the glass, still propping herself up, legs spread wide and parted for easy access, waiting for whatever comes next.

"Then what the hell are you waiting for, handsome?" she mutters, struggling to get those words out. "Fuck my tight ass—pound it like it's Natty's cunt."

In a second, you're up and at attention, raring for what comes next, Julie's breath fogging up the window while you grab the one thing that’s going to help you slide right between those perfect ass cheeks. Julie's got a hand in between those thighs, slowly rubbing at her clit while you get all slicked up, stroking your cock inches away from where it’s going to feel so goddamn good. 

"Get that cock in me," Julie demands, impatient as she takes up position again, pressing her body up against the window so she can be spread open. 

It's not hard to oblige that request—you move right up against her, sandwiching your slick cock between those soft cheeks, sliding up and down as you nestle it right in there. But that's not going to last long at all, no, Julie wants you deep in her ass, and you can hardly stand not being inside her for another moment.

"Come on, boytoy," is all she says to confirm those desires, turning her head back to steal a glance, tempting you further, begging with her eyes. "Slam that dick in me, don't make me tell you twice."

So you get right behind her, bending her over and spreading her cheeks wide to align yourself. You push in without warning, hands at Julie's hips and tugging her back until that tight ring of muscle relaxes, letting the head of your cock ease its way in nice and slow.

"Oh fuck," you choke out as the rest slides right in, so easily, balls deep as her ass envelops your cock, stretching around every last inch you have to give. “Your ass feels incredible, so tight—"

Your hands get right on those curvy hips, not wasting another second, squeezing tightly when you slide out and slam right in. There's no room for caution or mercy when you have Julie bent over and ass sticking out like an invitation for your cock, nothing but a deep desire to ruin her tight little asshole.

"Shit, handsome—there you go, m-more, want you to split me open on that thick fucking dick."

Gripping hard enough to leave a bruise, you piston your hips to slide back out, pulling her onto you, that gorgeous, perfect ass rippling whenever your body collides with her. And already it's all consuming, that pleasure, the way her asshole swallows your length when you plunge forward, her voice filling the room.

You don't go slow, and don't hold back as you slap Julie's ass—this insatiable desire to make her bounce right back on your throbbing cock. 

"It's gonna take more than that to break me, boytoy. Do whatever the fuck you want—show me what you're capable of," Julie says through gasping breaths as she squeezes around you. You can hardly take how insanely tight she is as her warmth completely suffocates your whole cock while you pound inside. It's impossible not to lose control, using her wide hips to control just how deep you can go, the slap of her huge ass against your hips like music to your ears.

You're beyond feral when you dig both hands back into those perfect cheeks, spreading her open to keep this view of your cock impaling her ass going. And you keep her up against the window, pounding mercilessly into her tight little asshole without pause, again, and again, her ass just taking every thrust, welcoming the full length of your cock.

"God, this ass is too fucking good," you groan out, nearly breathless, gripping tight as her ass crashes back into you. 

“Knew you would love it. Fuck, that cock feels amazing stretching me open—tearing my greedy asshole apart," Julie says, face pressed up against the glass and your eyes glued right below, at where your shaft is buried to the hilt between those delicious cheeks, slamming balls deep every single time. Your hips give their all, pinning Julie against the massive hotel window, tits squished against the cool glass while she just lets you hammer into her ass. 

"More, boytoy, need more—pound me so hard I can't walk straight for a week." Julie knows the pleading in her voice alone is enough to set you off. And that gets you well past that point, hips moving so fast while you give her ass a series of harsh smacks on repeat, each a loud smack that competes with the sounds of hot flesh on hot flesh that fills the apartment with your balls smacking away against her dripping cunt. 

Natty is on her feet again, a hint of exhaustion still on her face. She's watching this with rapt attention, Julie being jolted against the glass while you pound into her without mercy. 

"Didn't get enough, Nat?"

Hardly anything but a nod leaves her, not wanting to interrupt, back against the window, still naked, sweaty, and wearing this curious expression as she watches the show go on. Content to just observe, her hands wander down her stomach, down in between her thighs. "Can’t a girl get a good look at her best friend getting her ass reamed? Too hot not to watch.” 

And then your focus is back on Julie, watching those gorgeous cheeks bounce with every deep thrust, savoring the way her ass squeezes your cock with a vice grip. It's a miracle you're not blowing your load already, but this is too good, not nearly ready to let this end, not with the way Julie's asshole feels wrapped around your cock.

"This is the best fucking thing I've felt in a long time," you manage to get out, not holding back the slightest when your hips meet hers, the sound of flesh echoing through the room.

"I'm glad I can be of service," Julie murmurs. "Look at that, Nat. If you're not careful, I'll steal him from you."

"Please, Jules, like I'm not getting his cock whenever the hell I want. You couldn't even imagine how he uses me. Boytoy is a fucking animal when I let him be," Natty replies, sliding the pad of her finger slowly along her swollen clit while she keeps those eyes fixated on the on the spectacle, how rough you're being with her best friend.

"Good. Because if you're wanting another go at his cock, you're gonna have to wait a bit, Nat. I'm not sharing him for a while."

There's not even an objection—Natty wants to watch too much. And when Julie lets out this breathless, desperate sound, her hands slide up and down against the glass, scrambling for something to anchor herself to. There's not a chance she's giving you up.

"God, boytoy, keep that up—you're going to fucking destroy me," Julie moans out, a slight crack in her voice, like she's about to crumble from how intense it all feels.

"Think that's the plan," Natty replies, not able to look away for a moment as her fingers continue rubbing her clit, occasionally dipping it between her soaked lips. And your palm goes crazy on those asscheeks, slapping away while you thrust your whole cock into Julie's impossibly tight asshole, savoring the way she squeezes the life out of your length. One hard slap, one deep thrust after the other, and there's no sign of slowing down anytime soon, not while you have her up against the window, fucking her like your life depends on it.

"Can't believe you get to have this dick whenever you want, Nat. He's so fucking good—don't know how you ever survive a minute without his cock in you."

"I manage," Natty replies, the faintest of smiles crossing her lips. "I spend most of my mornings riding his fucking brains out. Or his face before class, whatever the mood calls for. Gets me through at least the first couple classes."

“Please, like you even make it through science class without sneaking us to the nearest bathroom.” 

“And? Not my fault I need a little extra to get through the morning. Some people have coffee, and I get my boytoy's cum. Is that really so different?" 

Even Julie can't help but smile at how ridiculous Natty sounds when it all comes out, somehow letting out this little laugh while she's being ravaged. And even with how rough you're getting with her ass—pounding it like you'll die without it, there's still this surreal feeling of not understanding how you got here, lusting over her nudes to being actually buried in her ass.

"Gotta admit—never seen Jules have a better time," Natty says, fingers rubbing her sensitive little clit while she talks. "Girl gets paid to get her ass fucked on the daily and looks like she can barely take that cock. Maybe I should be more selfish with you. Just in case either of you get any bright ideas.” 

“Just might. You picked the right girl for this, god, this fucking ass is insane—“ 

“When have I ever steered you wrong? All these months of dropping my panties for you whenever you want, and you don't trust my judgment yet? I know what you like. Because it’s what I like. Julie is perfect for you in every single way.” 

"Okay, point taken." You'd roll your eyes if you weren't buried deep in Julie's tight asshole—her ass is as addictive and heavenly as Natty's, maybe even more. 

"Just get back to ruining her, boytoy," she says with a chuckle, already too lost in her own fingers. “And don’t leave out the spanking, she fucking loves that.” 

Not like you needed to be told to do that. But you intend on making those plump cheeks as bright red as you possibly can, each slap on her bare ass punctuating your thrusts that Julie takes so well. You don’t even bother to rub out the sting, smacking the sore flesh in the same spot, this delicious clench around your cock tightening up every single time. And you keep it up, these echoing slaps that turn Julie into more of a mess. One that really makes her snap forward before she seizes your wrist, guiding your fingers up her body until it's at her throat—begging you for this without a word.

A request like that is not something you can easily refuse either, tightening up your grip as you continue plunging right into that tight hole, her hand joining yours on her throat, squeezing it. 

"Just like that, fuck," Julie says while your pace picks up speed—to the point that it's difficult not to collapse from how insanely good you feel slamming into her. And if it was a struggle before, the combined grip your fingers have on her throat makes her asshole clamp down on your cock, squeezing like she'll never release and only begging for your load. 

You've got some fight in you still, to try to draw this out as much as possible, determined not to collapse first and ramming so mercilessly into her ass. But your first mistake is letting your eyes shift back up to where Julie is being pinned against the window by your stiff cock. That's a moment of weakness—when your cock hits even deeper, the look on her face, lips parted so all these sinful moans can escape, you nearly lose it. 

The best part is how Natty gets to witness all of it as her fingers do their magic, a rare occasion where she's not said a single thing in minutes. It's difficult not to find it all so arousing as you're deep inside, while she’s got slick fingers in her cunt at the sight of you using Julie like she’s nothing but a toy. 

"Shit, g-gonna cum," Julie gasps out, struggling to form anything more than that, and it's only seconds later her eyes flutter shut, until you feel this tremendous wetness that can’t be contained between her thighs, lips parted with a slur of obscenities unleashed. 

The clenches that follow throw you dangerously close, Julie so sensitive and needy as she rubs her clit, greedy for a second orgasm that follows as you continue to drive her up against the glass. One more look at her reflection, at how wrecked she is, then your gaze shoots to those reddened cheeks, at the pummeling they’ve taken, all stretched out around you and demanding more—you’re almost there yourself. 

It's the last burst of energy you have to make good on it, spreading those cheeks nice and wide to slam into her with whatever is left. With how crazy the pressure in your shaft builds—how that ass swallows your length to the hilt again and again, the release you need so badly is closing in, seconds away at this rate.

That's exactly why you pull out, leaving Julie's hole gaping and needy when you pull her off the glass—already so close to bursting when your hand finds her head and she's forced down on her knees. 

"W-why'd you stop?" Julie manages to get out, but that's all she has time for when you shove yourself past her lips, balls pressed against her chin.

And as good as it feels driving deep into Julie's ass, seeing her get her lips sealed around your dick, having this urge to unload, to have your thick load pouring down her throat—it's too good an opportunity to resist. 

"Needed your fucking throat to finish me off, that's why." 

Without a word of warning, you're grabbing her head, jamming her mouth further onto your cock. There's hardly any resistance—only a little sputter at how your length slips into her throat, hitting the back so you can hear the unmistakable sounds of Julie gagging and choking on it.

Fingers wrapped in that pretty hair, you force her head down your cock as you hit past the point of no return. It's the look in those devilish eyes when you hold her right there that gets you the rest of the way—how desperate and hungry she looks, staring up, your cock spasming right before you unload. 

Her mouth stays right where you need it to be, this tight seal around your shaft as you explode, eyes going wide at the sheer volume of it—hot, thick spurts shooting down her throat, some of it overflowing, the rest straight into her stomach. Your cock twitches violently the whole time, and your grip remains tight on the back of her head so she can't pull away—not that she would ever want to.

When your endless spurts start to lose steam, her lips stay wrapped tight as your climax subsides, the wet heat of her mouth overwhelming in the best ways. You hold her there for as long as you can handle it, until there’s nothing left—just the slow, steady sound of satisfaction humming through Julie’s mouth.

“God, shit—Julie, you’re amazing,” you gasp out as you stand there, trying to catch your breath. She’s still there, lips soft and tight around you, holding you through every last twitch of release. 

“Mm,” she hums again, licking her lips before she presses a deep kiss to the tip. Then she leans back just enough, tilting her head and parting her lips wide, tongue out to show you—nothing left. Every last drop swallowed. “Didn’t want to waste anything.”

"Selfish little whore," Natty chimes in, slumped against the window with a pout resting on her lips. "You weren't gonna save any cum for me? What happened to friends share?"

"Not when it tastes this good. Maybe next time," Julie replies, and the expression on Natty's face is priceless as she gets up, trying to pull her away from the glass with a kiss to no avail. 

"First of all, no, there is no 'next time'—boytoy is mine. I'm just sharing him for tonight because he's never had a threesome before and I felt bad for him."

“Oh, so I’m just a pity fuck to him?” Julie teases, rising to her feet to leave kisses down along Natty's neck. "Didn't seem so, not with the way his cock filled every single inch of my asshole. I've never had a guy use me like this."

"You literally get paid to take cocks up your ass," Natty retorts.

"That's work. This? This was a hundred times more fun. Get used to it—this is happening more frequently, pretty girl. Whether you're willing to share or not." 

"That doesn't make up for stealing my goddamn cum! Friends share, remember?"

"Was it really my fault he wanted to fuck my face until he came down my throat? That's not selfish, I call that helping out."

"Yes it is, because now he's all spent and isn't able to go again any time soon. All because you had to turn your throat into a fleshlight,” Natty groans, pausing for a moment to sulk. 

"Hey, this was all your idea in the first place. Or was I supposed to stop and ask permission before choking on his cock?” 

"Oh fuck off, you selfish slut," Natty laughs, nearly shoving Julie across the room. "Whatever, he at least likes my ass the best anyways, no matter if you're in the room or not."

"Oh really now? What do you think, boytoy? Who made your cock feel better?"

You know better than to try being part of their interrogation, staying silent. There's a slightly terrifying look in both their eyes that you'd rather avoid.

"You two are insane." 

"Insane for this fat cock," Natty says, the two of them sharing a laugh. 

“Can't argue with that, pretty girl.” Julie strokes her fingers lightly through your hair before she leans in for a kiss to silence Natty again—until it turns more ravenous, and god, your poor cock just isn't going to get a break around them. They both break away for a breath after a moment, a string of saliva still connecting their mouths that neither of them seems bothered about. 

“Don't think that you're off the hook because you slipped your tongue in my mouth. Maybe I'll just make you cum a few dozen more times for what you did," Natty says with this sweet giggle, a sudden tug on Julie's nipples that catches her off guard. And then another that follows when she tries to pull away, getting one more moan out of her, fingertips finding her wet slit as Julie squirms to get out of it. "Still wet after all of that?" 

There's little time for Julie to react when she gets pinned against the glass once more, only letting out a desperate moan—a noise that's loud enough to wake the dead. 

"W-wait, Nat—I just came," Julie protests, voice shaking while Natty's relentless fingers run through her cunt, already so oversensitive.

"Don't care. This is what you get for being such a thieving little slut." Finding all this extra wetness, Natty’s fingers slide inside and curl against her sensitive spot. There's no way she can look away, feeling all the shudders Julie tries to suppress, and the little winces of pain that leave her as the pleasure gets mixed together in the most torturous way. It's the kind of wicked revenge Natty loves dishing out. “You must be pretty sensitive after having this fucking dick ruin you, right? Maybe this teaches you to not be such a greedy whore." 

"F-fuck, you're such a fucking jealous bitch," Julie groans, trying her hardest to keep her eyes open despite how sensitive and overwhelming everything feels. Natty knows the weakest places and presses her fingers against it, thumb sliding over her clit every so often just for extra torment.

"The very worst," Natty agrees with a smirk, finding the perfect spot inside and rubbing right there without relent. And seeing how this usually confident girl becomes a quivering mess is more satisfying than you could imagine. 

"Stop, s-shit, not this much, god, please—“ Julie can do little but beg, all pathetic and hopeless, just to have Natty curl her fingers in a way that brings out something guttural from her throat. But Natty disregards every plea, every whimper and whine that gets louder with every relentless stroke.

The helpless desperation in Julie's eyes while her lips tremble only fuels Natty. A crooked little smile crosses her lips at the sound of Julie’s cries as she rolls a hardened nipple between her fingers, pinching down hard—hard enough to make Julie throw her head back, a messy line of drool leaking from her parted lips.

You're frozen to the spot where you watch, mesmerized by how ruthless Natty can get. There's no place left for Julie to escape, trapped between her and the window with the threat of another devastating orgasm her body isn't prepared for.

"God, look at you. Didn’t think I’d ever hear you beg like this. Your cunt must be so fucking sensitive. Which means—you're going to cum just as hard, maybe harder. Not a thing you can do about it either, is there? " 

Julie barely manages a response, too wrecked and overstimulated to do anything but take it. Every touch sets her nerves on fire.

“So fucking selfish,” Natty growls, pace never faltering. “Always have to be the first. First to get dicked down, first to steal the attention—pretty little slut doesn’t actually like sharing, does she? Just likes the spotlight.”

“H-hey, that’s—ah, fuck, ah—not t-true,” Julie gasps out, but it’s useless. Her body tells a different story, writhing against the glass, chasing after Natty’s touch even as she trembles from it.

That’s what gets another wicked laugh out from Natty’s lips. “Poor thing is gonna cum again. This soon?” Her fingers drive in deeper, pushing Julie to the edge whether she’s ready or not. “Thought you weren’t selfish. But looks like you’re proving me right.”

You don’t even have to be watching for what happens next, a broken sob from Julie enough to know the damage has already been done. Natty shoves her over. A sharp cry rips from her throat, her whole body locking up, muscles seizing as the bliss crashes through her. 

She can’t even hide it, can’t even muffle the cries that fall from her throat—Natty won’t let her. A firm grip tears the hand over Julie’s mouth away, forcing her moans to ring loud and proud. 

And Natty isn’t finished. Not even close.

The obscene slickness between Julie’s thighs only grows, coating Natty’s fingers as she keeps them deep, making her gush without a hint of mercy. “Fuck, look at you,” Natty murmurs, her breath hot against Julie’s ear, clearly thrilled by how helpless she’s made her. Julie’s legs tremble so violently she can barely stay upright. “So fucking selfish. You can't stop, can you? Just keep gushing all over my fingers like a needy little mess.”

Julie sobs again, but it’s lost in the wet, obscene rhythm between them—the slick sound of her cunt being worked filling the space louder than any protest she might’ve had left.

Only when she’s had her fill, does Natty finally show mercy. Fingers easing out, she lets Julie slump forward. But not without one last cruel tease—a few sharp slaps to that overstimulated clit, just to watch her flinch. Just to hear that final, wrecked little whimper.

“You fucking—” Julie hisses, barely able to breathe, and still, she can’t even pull away. Not when Natty presses down, applying the lightest, taunting pressure, just to remind her exactly who’s in control. 

"Tell me I'm right—tell me, you self-centered little whore. Tell me that's what you are, or you aren't getting a break."

"Fine! Y-you’re right," Julie chokes out, her voice all broken, thighs twitching as Natty keeps that unbearable pressure right where she knows it’ll ruin her. "I’m selfish. Selfish, greedy, whatever you can add. Proud of it, even. Now, please—"

Natty smirks, dragging her fingers through the mess she’s made, slow and deliberate before licking it clean 

"Jesus, Nat. Can you blame a girl for being addicted to boytoy’s cum? You're the one who sucked his load out of my cunt earlier and didn't share," Julie says, voice still weak, nowhere near recovered. 

"And? What's your point?” Natty fires back. “Still doesn't give you the right to bogart his cum for your filthy little throat.” 

This conversation feels a little too surreal, like you’re not even in the room. And then, suddenly—silence.

“Boytoy,” they say together, perfectly synchronized, and there’s something inherently dangerous in that.

“What was it you said earlier?” Natty muses, tilting her head with that look—you know the one. “Something about going all night if you had to?”

Batting her lashes with feigned innocence, Natty steps forward in perfect sync with Julie, both with this predatory gaze. 

“Or maybe that was just an empty promise—”

Before you can react, you're at the edge of the bed, completely vulnerable with two sets of hands pushing you down. The mattress catches your back, your head spinning, no clue what’s coming next.

“Either way…” Julie purrs, leaning over you, her breath warm against your skin. “We’re far from done with you.”

These two are going to ruin you, without a shadow of a doubt, and you'll still come crawling back for more.

—

And now, you’re exactly where they want you—pinned between them, not going anywhere.

By the time the clock reads well into the next morning, both women are finally tuckered out, fast asleep. Little reminders of the night are scattered across your skin: bruises on your chest, bite marks, lipstick stains, scratches down your back. Each worn with pride. 

Every inch of your body aches in the best way, and even the slightest shift in the sheets sends that soreness pulsing from head to toe. Not that you mind—especially with both of them curled up on either side of you, their warm bodies pressed close, using you as their personal pillow.

Julie is the first to stir, groaning as she nuzzles against you. Her dark hair is still messy and disheveled, almost hesitant to choose whether she wants to wake up or not. But when her eyes flutter open at the sight of you, she peppers a few tired kisses along your skin, her lips curling into a sleepy smile.

"Morning, handsome. Sleep well?" 

You hesitate, lost in the way she looks so beautiful in the morning. "Maybe better than I ever have."

"Me too," Julie says, grinning ear to ear, tracing lazy patterns on your chest as best she can without moving an inch away. "Had me worried for a bit. Thought we broke your cock." 

Not far from the truth, considering you ran through just about every position under the sun—Natty pinned beneath you, legs in the air; Julie’s face shoved into a pillow as you railed her ass for the second time, and then both of them side by side, moaning into the sheets and making out while you plowed them from behind.

You’ll never forget the sight of both of them hanging off the bed, upside-down, your cock plunging into their greedy throats while their perfect tits bounce between your fingertips. 

Or how you’ve lost count of how many times you made each of them gush—on your cock, your fingers, your face, soaked and shaking underneath you. Clenching tight before screaming your name, insatiable and wringing you dry like it was the only thing they knew how to do. Like they’d tear you apart just to do it all over again.

By the end, you could barely think straight—just sweat-slicked skin, the taste of their ravenous mouths, and the way they used you without pause. With your final release, you gave them everything—blasting across their faces as they knelt cheek to cheek, tongues out, makeup smeared, smiling through the mess while the night sky loomed above. Ruined, covered in you, and still starved for more.

The last thing you remember was lying flat on your back, mouth buried between their legs as they took turns riding your face—one after the other, thick thighs clamped around your head, grinding down hard until they were left gasping, trembling with nothing left to take.

"Hardly. I'm still in perfect working order, I'll have you know." 

"Poor boytoy. We really made you go all night, huh?"

Natty starts to rise on the opposite side and stretches in this obscene, unhurried way—arms overhead, back arching, shirt lifting just enough to tease a glimpse of bare skin and the curve of her breasts.

“Ngh, morning…" Natty says as she glances at you, voice hoarse as she rolls closer, draping herself over your chest like she owns it. “He’s still alive? Impressive.”

“Says the one who slept the entire morning.” 

"I was already up,—just didn't wanna move," Natty groans, wrapping her arms tighter around you to press a kiss right into your skin. "Too comfy. Boytoy did a number on me—my ass feels like it's going to be sore for a week."

Julie tries to bite back a laugh, but it slips free as she presses her face into your chest. “You did beg him to rail you like that—not his fault he delivered."

Natty huffs, rolling her eyes as she twirls a strand of your hair between her fingers. “Okay, yeah, but still—no one said he had to listen. There’s a difference between rough and demolished.”

“When has that ever been a problem? Never known you to tap out for anything. Don’t you remember—”

Natty quickly interjects, groaning. "Don’t you dare.”

But Julie has this sly smile that warns you this is already out of your hands. A masterful tease. "That first weekend I met you. And those two guys, in that hotel, the one where we almost got kicked out for being too loud. Pretty girl got spitroasted the whole night, didn’t she? Couldn't even stand once they were finished with her. And all of a sudden, boytoy is just a little too much?"

There's a momentary struggle while Natty tries to block out the memory, her hands about ready to strangle her friend as the laughter spills from Julie.

"Don't you dare let her tell you stories. Anything she says is a goddamn lie. Nothing like that ever happened."

And even when Natty goes dead quiet, Julie still has that evil little giggle, pressing light kisses along your jawline. “No? Then who was holding the camera the whole time? All the videos from that night are on my phone, let me just—”

Julie's cut off by a firm smack on her bare thigh—swift and drawing a yelp from her, and for Natty's sake, she drops the subject.

“Look, those were just two random guys I met. I was drunk, they wanted to fuck me, and I never saw them again. Boytoy is a much better option,” Natty grumbles, defeated.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl. If his dick is too much for you to take, I’ll be more than happy to take him off your hands.”

Natty lifts her head just enough to glare. “Nobody said I couldn’t handle it. I rather like having him rearrange my insides, thank you very much.”

“Oh, that’s obvious with the amount of times you swore you couldn’t go again, only to crawl back for more,” Julie teases.

“Sounds like Nat.”

Rolling her eyes is all Natty can do. “Oh, shut up. Don’t need the girl who takes twelve inches several times a day on camera to lecture me.” 

Julie scoffs and tosses a pillow at her head. “You wish you could handle him like I do.”

“Who was the one all folded up and crying after I came out of the shower after he shoved his cock back in you before you were ready?” Natty fires back, raising an eyebrow. “Could barely get a word out between those moans, babe.”

She laughs, cheeks turning red. "Not my fault boytoy loves making me cum again and again until I can barely move…"

That's when Natty drops it, more focused on kissing her way down your body. “How does breakfast sound, boytoy? Room service? That way we don’t have to get dressed?”

You nod in agreement, too exhausted to say a word.

"Why order breakfast when we've got this to feast on, right here?" Julie purrs, nipping at your shoulder as her fingers trail lower under the sheets. “Poor thing gets so hard in the morning.” 

“Can you blame him when he gets to wake up next to us?” And in typical fashion, it's Natty who joins in, both of them stroking your painful erection beneath the covers. A synchronized pair of squeezes while they both giggle at the moans you can't stop from letting out. 

"God—you really are going to break me, aren't you?"

"Only if we try hard enough. We were a bit easy on you last night, so maybe—"

You swallow hard when both their hands tease along your cock at the exact same time. If last night was easy, then there's no telling what's to come if they don't have to hold back. Not that you aren't looking forward to it. “Is she always like this? This early?”

There’s a look exchanged between them before Julie speaks again. "What, completely obsessed with cock and cum hungry all the time? That would be a yes."

Natty’s smirk deepens as she tosses the sheets aside, making sure you can see every stroke, slow, teasing, and all in perfect sync. 

You can’t help the low moan that escapes your throat, eyes locked on these two between your thighs, on the way your cock twitches in their grip. It’s almost too much already, and they’ve only gotten started. 

"Don’t pretend like you’re not also dying for a nice morning blowjob, handsome,” Julie says while you try and open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a breathy gasp the moment Natty’s thumb teases your tip.

"Hey, don't even think about trying to steal another load when I'm right here, Jules."

"I'll share this time. Promise."

Natty pauses for a second, debating whether to actually believe her friend—who's already kissing up your abdomen while she gets her fingers wrapped around your shaft. "And by share, I'm gonna assume you mean it's going right down your throat where I can't even see it?"

"I'll give you a little taste this time,” Julie says, pausing for effect while she pumps your length. ”If you behave."

"Nuh-uh, it's my turn to be selfish with boytoy," Natty says, not letting anything get in the way of her chance to indulge. Julie’s being shoved aside, and suddenly you’re at the edge of the bed, legs dangling as Natty tosses her shirt aside—full, perfect breasts bouncing when she sinks between your thighs. Her chest has your full attention, and without warning, she engulfs your cock between her soft breasts, burying you in her warm, perfect cleavage.

"Hey, no fair using your tits," Julie whines, but you can't even hear her protest with Natty's tits pressed up tight against your cock.

“You know what's not fair? Stealing all his cum. Now be a good girl and watch."

It's a demand that seems to work—Julie falls silent, and it's impossible not to look where your cock disappears between the weight of her breasts, wrapped tight around your cock, sliding up and down with this delicious friction.

“Fuck, Nat," you groan, eyes focused between her gorgeous tits that she presses tight around you, silky smooth and feeling softer than anything your cock has experienced. The sort of sensation that can put any other to shame—and Natty knows exactly what it does to you. 

"Feels so fucking good doesn't it, boytoy? My fucking tits wrapped around your cock? God, you look like you're ready to bust already." 

She's not wrong, either. The feeling of your cock trapped between her heavy breasts is almost too much—all warm and too inviting, the swollen head poking through her cleavage when she moves her chest in just the right way. Not a single thought left in your brain but pleasure, nothing but clear intent to have you spill your load right between them.

The way her tits hug your cock with every motion only makes the ache worse, and Natty just looks up at you, all proud, like she knows she’s got you under her spell. And she really does, leaning her head down, a thick line of drool spilling down between the  luscious valley to make the slide all that more heavenly.

"Those fucking tits are ridiculous," Julie groans, jealous but still enamored at the sight while you try to fight the growing heat building with every stroke. You've been through everything with these two in the last 24 hours, but Natty's tits—all bounce and sinful softness, still manage to have power all on their own the second they’re around your cock. 

But of course, Julie can’t help herself—with no concept of waiting her turn, she positions herself behind Natty, who doesn’t even realize what’s about to happen until it's too late. Julie gets a hold on those hefty tits for herself, helping them slide down your shaft and taking some semblance of control for herself.

"Hey—what do you think you’re doing, whore?" Natty gasps, caught off guard by the sudden groping as her tits are worked along your cock. She could shove Julie off—but doesn’t, letting her help guide the heavy pair over your shaft instead.

"Sharing, you spoiled little brat, like you promised to do," she purrs, squeezing Natty’s tits tighter around your cock, making sure you feel every inch of their combined efforts. The way Julie digs her fingers into that glorious flesh sends you a little deeper towards your breaking point. 

"Is that what you call it? Because it seems like you're trying to bogart my titfuck, just because you couldn't have him all to yourself," Natty responds, not bothering to try and hide the irritation, but not telling her to stop either. Julie grins, leaning her cheek against Natty's shoulder so she can get closer, forcing your member into a faster rhythm. 

“That's exactly what I'm doing," Julie admits. "Because his dick does look rather nice sliding between your big tits."

You're not even paying attention to their argument—far too busy reveling in the softness of Natty's chest, the friction you desperately need, in the confines of her cleavage. You try your damndest not to spill from just this, their fingers entwined while they work in tandem, getting your length pumping between those heaving mounds.

Natty does nothing but scrunch up her face in annoyance, pouty and upset that her alone time has been interrupted. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're a little jealous." 

Julie keeps smiling, unfazed—maybe a little too much as she continues to use her friend's breasts with not a care in the world, not even realizing how she's pushing you further, your balls feeling heavy and so fucking ready to erupt.

"Maybe a little. How could I not be? Of both these tits and boytoy’s amazing cock that gets to fuck them whenever he wants. Can't even imagine getting to wake up and devour these every morning."

"They are pretty incredible," Natty says, batting her lashes as her tits jiggle, still cradling your aching cock and keeping the heavenly friction constant—no escape in sight. "Not sure who's more lucky, boytoy or me."

You may never know the answer to that. 

All you know is there's no doubt in your mind that this is the best way to experience the true glory of these tits—and the more you stare, the less control you have, the pressure rising between your legs all the more. The groans that leave your throat get a little louder, a little more desperate as these two work to get you off, not easing up at all as they both crave your release.

"God, Nat, your tits really are unbelievable," Julie moans, getting this perfect handful with both hands as she assists, refusing to let the pace slack even a little. She can't get enough of the way they bounce between her fingers—how her touch gets the soft, plump flesh to smother the whole length of your cock. "They're making his dick leak so fucking much already."

"Can you even imagine how much he's going to cum all over them?" Natty adds, almost taunting. "Gonna make a mess, aren't you, boytoy?"

Your hips buck on impulse, not a shred of patience left when she asks that question, and it's not long until the ache of holding back is just too much. Natty stares, this knowing look when she senses the inevitable. You're so, so goddamn close now, needing little more than a few more pumps, these hungry gazes and wicked smiles only pushing you that much closer.

"Almost there, f-fuck—" you manage to blurt out, every pump between those luscious tits somehow more devastating than the last, each one feeling like it could finish you off.

“Cum, boytoy—do it," Julie encourages. “Show us how much of a fucking mess your huge load will make of these perfect tits.”

Natty does little but smile, glancing down to where your cock juts out of her cleavage, throbbing desperately under all this pillowy softness. And all that's needed is another firm squeeze of their hands, those tits smothering you tight to send you straight over the edge.

The eruption follows only moments later, hot, thick spurts of sticky white that makes their eyes go wide at the forceful blast that sprays up Natty's cleavage. It’s endless—shot after shot spilling over those gorgeous tits, painting them like the most sinful canvas imaginable. Your cum spills into the deep valley of her tits, streaking her neck and even hitting her chin, marking her in the most depraved way, just like these two greedy girls wanted. You’ve never seen anything more perfect. 

"Look at all that—there's so much fucking cum," Natty marvels, her heavy breathing causing those hefty tits to rise and fall as Julie lets them free, letting her finish the job, eager to milk out what last final drops she can from you. A few more languid strokes between her cum-streaked breasts and they squeeze around you one last time, drawing out the final dribble before your cock slips free, still twitching from just the sight of that delicious cleavage coated in pearly white. 

It isn't much of a surprise when Julie is the first to taste it, a long lick along Natty's neck, helping her clean up every bit she can get off her. Her tongue drags along her voluminous chest before sealing her mouth around a nipple, savoring the taste on her tongue with a moan.

"Natty looks so pretty covered in boytoy's thick load," Julie murmurs when she comes up for air, lips glossy with spit and cum as she gives one last lingering lick where your load still clings to her glistening tits. “Almost too good to clean up.” 

Natty can hardly disagree, watching her friend dive back into the mess with the voracious appetite that can only be expected—from someone just as obsessed with your cum as she is.

The display leaves you speechless, only able to stare—cock still twitching, spent, yet desperate to bury yourself between the luscious pair all over again.

Julie isn’t done by a long shot, licking up a thick streak of cum from the curve of Natty’s breast, her tongue slow and deliberate as she collects every drop. But instead of swallowing, she lifts Natty’s chin, lips parting to share it in a messy, heated kiss—swapping the load between their tongues, both moaning like they can’t get enough of the taste and each other. 

And if you weren’t still throbbing from such a satisfying release, you certainly are now—watching them swap your load back and forth, savoring it like some sweet delicacy. Insatiable and shameless, they kiss and moan through every messy moment, tongues tangled and lips glistening, the sight alone nearly has you ready to go again.

They eventually part, a thin string of spit and cum still connecting their tongues, both breathless as they steal their share of the mess, licking lips and lost in their own hunger. 

Before you can even recover, Natty’s already sinking back down between your legs, wrapping her lips around your cock with a satisfied hum, like she’s missed the taste of you already. Julie isn’t going to stay idle, and her hands slide up to grope Natty’s still-slick breasts, fingers digging in possessively as she leans close, watching every inch disappear into that heavenly mouth.

“Look at you,” Julie purrs, her breath hot against Natty’s neck as she toys with a glistening nipple between her fingers. “Didn’t even give poor boytoy a break. You really want to break him, huh?”

“Nothing he can’t handle.”

 Your breath hitches, strained and shaky to prove otherwise as Natty sucks harder, tongue swirling with maddening precision, until she suddenly pulls off with a wet pop, your cock glistening and twitching in the cool air. She presses a soft, lingering kiss to your sensitive tip, gaze locked on yours to drink in your reaction while her hand keeps stroking slowly, drawing out every last twitch of overstimulation. It’s too much—but yet you don’t want it to stop. Not now. Not ever.

And just like that, Julie’s lips are right back on Natty’s tits, kissing and sucking like she’s been starved for them, tongue flicking over each nipple, and insatiable can’t even begin to describe it. 

“Nothing like a good breakfast,” Julie hums against Natty’s flesh, too focused on suckling at her tits to say anything else, lips sealed tight as if she can find any more of your seed and relish that taste. 

"You two really are fucking addicted to my tits, aren't you?" Natty laughs breathlessly, enjoying the attention with one hand in Julie’s hair while the other lazily strokes your still-throbbing cock.

Julie pulls off with a lewd pop before grinning up at her. “Can you blame us, Nat?” she breathes, eyes half-lidded with lust as she squeezes one of those heavy breasts. “They’re perfect, pretty girl. Who the fuck could ever resist these?”

And there's nothing for Natty to say, after all—the evidence speaks for itself. Julie’s already latched back onto her tit like she’s tasting heaven, lips sealed over Natty’s swollen nipple, slow and wet. Her free hand kneads the other breast, pulling it closer as if she’s determined to worship every inch. And you’ve got the perfect fucking view of it all.

—-

What feels like hours later, the three of you finally make it to a much-needed shower—the hot water feeling so good on your bodies. There’s a mess of limbs underneath the calming water, and despite the fatigue, and a plethora of smiles and giggles to go around. Kisses are shared without urgency, without need, the soft press of lips against damp skin while hands roam around lazily, more interested in sharing affection than stoking desire. 

It’s a well-earned moment of relaxation that lingers when the water gets turned off and towels hit the floor—just in time for coffee, and maybe some actual breakfast, if these two can keep their hands to themselves long enough to order room service.

But when there’s a knock on the door for exactly that, Julie’s the one who answers the door, striding over in nothing but a tiny pair of red panties and a snug white crop top that barely covers her tits—nipples clearly visible through the thin fabric. 

“He recognized me,” Julie says with a smug grin as she saunters back inside, swinging the door shut behind her with her hip. She sets the tray down on the bar like nothing happened, unable to hide her amusement. “Could barely keep his eyes off my tits. Poor guy almost dropped the food.”

Natty arches a brow, crossing her arms under her own chest as she sits back against the headboard, legs stretched out and a lazy grin playing on her lips—completely naked, not bothering to throw on a single piece of clothing. “Recognized you from what, exactly?” she teases, though there’s already a knowing look in her eyes.

“Oh, you know, he’s a fan,” Julie replies with a wink, plopping down beside Natty on the bed, clearly having no intention of covering up. Her fingers toy idly with the hem of her shirt, as if daring it to ride up even further. “Pretty sure he’ll be jerking off to the memory for weeks.”

"That ass is pretty famous," Natty replies, eyes trailing over Julie’s barely covered curves with shameless appreciation. 

Julie just laughs, stretching lazily, her toned stomach flexing as she raises her arms over her head. The motion makes her crop top ride up even more, exposing just a hint of her bare breasts, but she makes no move to fix it. Instead, she smirks, turning onto her side to face Natty. "Can’t blame him. I'd stare too."

And god knows you are, helpless to resist as you sit back and stare at both of their bodies, knowing fully well they want you to.

You make it through coffee and breakfast, which in actuality is really brunch given the time—something quick, light, and enough to satisfy your hunger. It's a quiet moment that passes while little gets said, the three of you eating on the freshly-changed sheets with little sips of bitter coffee to help wash it down. 

You should have known it wouldn’t be nearly this peaceful.

Julie wastes little time once plates and cups are thrown away, setting the empty tray outside. Coming back in, you're not given a chance to put your phone down before she's bent over and between your legs, boxers pulled off and tossed somewhere in the room.

Little you can do but enjoy this position she's put you in, legs spread while she bobs her head so greedily down your length—lips far down the base with her cheeks hollowed out and her gaze staring straight at yours. Natty's right there too, kneeling beside Julie with that little thong of hers that shows off how good her ass looks as she gives all the spanks deserved, mostly kneading at both cheeks, playing with the soft flesh that feels so good to squeeze.

"Hey, Natty?" Julie asks after she pops off, lifting her head up as she takes a long drag up your cock. "I think I quite like our boytoy."

"Our? What makes him yours all of a sudden?" Natty asks, continuing her massage of that full ass and bringing a slap down against the velvety flesh of her cheeks that makes you jolt up into Julie's mouth. 

"Well, for starters, he loves when I do this," she responds, flashing that cheeky grin as she swallows you to the base yet again, tongue rubbing against that throbbing underside of your shaft as it's shoved down without restraint. 

"You're not keeping him for yourself. Find your own, you greedy little slut." And Natty sounds so fucking offended, with another swat echoing in the air alongside Julie's moan around your cock. You can't tell what's better.

"I'll share—" is all Julie has to offer before Natty cuts her off with another harsh blow to her ass, one that makes her cry out loudly around you.

"Heard that before. I'll let you have him whenever you're around, but that's it—if you're lucky you can use his dick every other weekend." 

"What am I, a library book you can loan to each other or something?"

"Exactly!" The two speak together in perfect sync. Another loud, wet pop, a tongue dragging along the swollen head of your cock as Julie locks that eye contact, swallowing you back down. 

“Have to admit, Jules—you look real good sucking his dick,” Natty sighs. Her hands sink back down to Julie's full ass, squeezing possessively as she gets her fingertips in nice and deep. Your hips buck helplessly, almost on autopilot at the sensations.

Julie finally manages to break off just to respond, but not without leaving several sloppy kisses and needy licks across the head of your cock, lips pressed flush against the glistening shaft as she continues to work.

"What can I say? I'm a professional," she answers, lips latched on your balls as she jerks your throbbing shaft. "Can't help myself. He tastes fucking delicious." 

"That's great and all, but still not sharing. This weekend's been fun but come Monday, it's back to normal."

"And if I just so happen to want him when you're stuck in class, Nat? What are you gonna do then?" Julie teases, dragging a few more lingering licks up your length that drive you crazy. "When you're in chem class and I'm on my knees, with him blasting a huge fucking load all over my pretty face? What if you're too busy to stop me?"

You're only caught up on the visuals Julie's trying to create. Imagining her like this on her knees and begging to be covered, smiling, tongue out while Natty is stuck learning about chemical reactions.

Natty knows Julie can't be tamed, no matter what.

"Then you better do a good job of emptying his balls when I'm not around, whore. Got it?"

"Jesus, do you two ever shut up, for like two seconds? Maybe I'll ask the front desk if there's anyone in need of a fuck, someone a little less high maintenance." The look on Natty's face says all that's needed—and yet she can't come up with a retort either, and not with her best friend grinning up at her with your cock still pressed right against her cheek. 

"As if you could ever find anyone else as hot as us," Natty says with the confidence you would expect. "With a big, thick cock that keeps us satisfied the way we deserve to be."

You roll your eyes as she speaks, Julie already going back down as if on cue, lips wrapped around you, eager for more. "Nat's huge tits and my fat ass, we make the perfect team. Face it, boytoy. You're stuck with us."

That's when Julie gets a bit too greedy, inhaling every inch until her lips can't take any more. Her way of convincing you , perhaps, and you can't say it isn't effective with the way she sucks harder—like she's not going to pull off until you're ready to agree. 

Stuck with the two most gorgeous, insatiable women possible hardly sounds like a terrible fate. Most of your time gets spent balls deep inside Natty the majority of the time regardless—and now when she's not riding the fuck out of you, there’s Julie to enjoy in the meantime.

You couldn’t ask for a better deal. 

[moonstrider9904]

après la bataille

Steb x fem!Reader (Enforcer)

Summary: the battle for Piltover has past, and you help Steb find some much needed peace of mind.

Word count: 2.2k

Tags/warnings: Mature and SFW, (french) kissing and making out, brief implications of smut. Spoilers for the ending Arcane season 2. Enforcer!Reader, mentions of death and loss, hints of PTSD, processing difficult emotions, hurt/comfort, established relationship.

Prequel one-shot coming soon! | My Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warm lights gleamed in the distance, and if one didn’t pay much attention, you would almost swear nothing had happened in Piltover for days. In the peaceful, quiet night, while the City of Progress’ lights twinkled and contrasted with the night sky, it was easy to forget the smoke and the unnatural violence, the blood that had been spilled, the war that, in what had felt like a blink of an eye, shook Piltover and Zaun only to leave things unnervingly quiet—those who had been in the head of it had a hard time believing, at times, that things were truly at peace now.

Steb watched the city with a heavy heart. Though victory had reigned, and Piltover and Zaun weren’t at odds with each other or the Noxian empire, it was inevitable to ponder on the cost. He had witnessed it first hand, from the moments he fought for his survival to having faced his own death in less time it would take him to exhale, mercifully saved by former councilor Medarda; he’d seen the price of the chain of events Hextech had brought forth in the form of light escaping the eyes of each of his fallen comrades.

Some of them had been his friends.

It had happened fast. The partner with whom Steb had gone from rescuing a stranded cat atop a tall tree to dismantling Shimmer, had died before his eyes at the hands of her own bullet—and the magic of the same mage who saved his life. He’d barely had time to process her betrayal and to question how the hell he hadn’t seen it coming before Maddie lay lifeless on the ground where she’d stood, about to take another life. If Steb mourned, he’d be mourning a traitor, but if he didn’t mourn, he wouldn’t be mourning his friend. A part deep within him hated such a dichotomy.

And then there was Loris. Not many words had been shared between the two—there was never any need for them. But Steb vividly remembered the attack on the memorial as the first real battle he’d been in, and Loris was the reason he’d come out of it alive. The vagabond he’d found lying hungover and nearly unconscious on the Piltovan sidewalk had mustered superhuman strength to shield him from a fatal blow, and now, Steb would never have a chance to return the favor. Just as he and the other survivors were emerging after the battle, it was the pianist turned soldier who went up to him and delivered Loris’ badge, and Steb knew it could only mean one thing. The feeling of his heart plummeting within him would be one he’d remember all his life. The loss of Loris, of Maddie, of the Zaunites he’d met at the bridge willing to take a stand.

The only thing that could console him after that was knowing you’d made it out alright. If he had another regret, it would be not being with you every second of it, but it would comfort him forever to know you were safe with him and you’d done your part in returning Piltover and Zaun to peace.

And as if his thoughts had invoked you, he soon heard your steps approaching. He remained facing the city as you entered the balcony, but his ears twitched in the direction of your footsteps, and a hint of a smile formed when he felt your arms wrap around him from behind, and your cheek resting up against the side of his arm.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Your sweet voice traveled to his ears and soothed every fiber within him. For once, Steb was able to relax, exhaling the tension from within his body, and his hand went to cover yours as it rested over his heart.

“They don’t matter,” he muttered.

You smiled softly, stifling a chuckle while you snuggled into his back before making your way towards his side, finally able to look up at him. “They do to me, love.”

Steb dismissed his laments and shifted to face you. He gazed down on you, thinking to himself how rare it had become to see you dressed in something other than your uniform, and for a moment he couldn’t fathom how beautiful you looked in your deep blue gown. It had discreet silver details and the right crop to compliment your silhouette in the best ways possible, and for a moment he was whole again, finding a brief respite from the memories that had tormented him those past few days.

“You look gorgeous,” Steb said softly with his deep, rich voice which you loved.

You smiled up at him, eyes sparkling, as you took his hands in yours. “You’re looking very handsome yourself.” Your eyes scanned the attire he was wearing—his suit resembled his uniform, but it was darker and far more elegant, and if you didn’t know better, you’d sooner mistake him for royalty than assume he was being promoted. You knew he was supposed to be wearing his black hat, but for the time being, he’d cast it aside, a fact you adored—you loved seeing as much of his features as you could, always finding it a whole new, beautiful experience to simply be able to look at Steb and gaze upon his every detail. You gave his hands a gentle squeeze and paced closer to him, taking one of your hands to rest on the crook of his neck and letting your thumb caress his skin gently.

“You’re going to make a fine commander,” you smiled gently at him.

Grateful as he was for your words, you noticed Steb carried the weight of the world in his eyes. He stifled a chuckle and, knowing he could be at ease with you, he briefly looked out at the peaceful Piltover, melancholy.

“Would it be too self-loathing to say I don’t think I deserve it?” He questioned.

“Yes,” you replied without a doubt. “It would also be a flat lie.”

Steb gave a quick exhale and some of the tension left his body, but the thoughts continued to weigh on him. “I could have done more.”

“You’ve done so much already,” you said gently, pausing as your gaze faltered before meeting his eyes again. “I know how you feel… I lost people too. And… not being with you during it was hell.”

“I know,” Steb said quietly.

You exhaled, and your voice fell to a whisper. “I really thought I was gonna lose you.”

He held the hand that rested on his neck and lifted it so that you could see him holding your hand from the corner of your eye.

“You couldn’t,” he said.

The dread left you entirely, and you managed to smile brightly at Steb, finding once again the will to achieve your sole objective of lifting his mood.

“And once you’re commander,” you continued, “you are not getting rid of me.”

Steb laughed smoothly. “Is that a promise?”

You nodded with a cheeky glint in your eye. “Darling, you can consider that a threat.”

His laughter came again, and you wrapped your arms around his upper back while he wrapped his around your waist. You stepped even closer to him, sealing the space between your bodies, and you were well aware of the way your chest pressed itself to his torso. Your eyes adopted an enticing gleam, and your lips curved into the smile Steb was never able to resist, and your voice was smooth when you talked to him, inviting him deeper into finding bliss with you.

“Is there anything I could do to make you feel better?” You asked him with a smirk.

You didn’t have to do more for Steb to understand, and he decided to play a little further with you.

“Hm,” he hummed. “I’m not sure.”

“Really?” You pressed yourself even more to him and perked up on your toes, letting your lips draw close up to his. “Nothing comes to mind? Not even, perhaps, something we could very easily do in the less than an hour we have before the ceremony? Gee, what ever could we do in that amount of time?”

Steb laughed fully and, with a firm grip, he picked you up and spun you around, now holding you as though he were to dance with you.

“You make it tempting,” Steb purred. “But I’d never dream of rushing things with you. Besides, I’m not going to risk ruining that pretty dress before the ceremony.”

“That,” you replied with a giggle, “was actually the correct answer.”

You both fell in silence, and you didn’t make an effort to fight the urge to brush your hand up to his cheek and let your thumb trace over the delicate frills around his eye. Steb leaned into the warmth of your palm—you knew he loved the tender contact of your skin on his frills—and without another moment’s hesitation, you took his lips in yours.

You could feel his body relax as his arms wrapped deeper around the curve of your back, as if he could pull you any closer, and though your eyes were closed as you kissed him, you knew by now his ears had slowly tilted downward and the frills around his eyes moved in slow, uniform waves, a testament to the peace and the joy brought upon him by your lips. The tenderness of the kiss gradually morphed into desire as you felt Steb pushing himself forward to you, adding strength to the movement of his lips and slowly slipping his tongue inside of you; the delicate friction of his tongue on yours filled your body with the sweetest sparks you’d ever be exposed you, and it prompted you to cling around his shoulders standing on your toes—a little more, and your feet would be off the ground.

You didn’t resist the urge to moan into his lips, and the airy quality of your voice made Steb smirk into the kiss. You wanted more of him, and just as you were cursing the fact that you both had to be at a ceremony in less than an hour, and that it would keep you from being entwined in bedsheets with him instead, you let your desires take over and you made your way kissing down Steb’s neck. You delighted in the moan that escaped him, delicious in his rich and deep voice, and as you kissed his neck, you let your lips linger in the same spot for just enough before moving to the next, crawling dangerously close to the collar of his shirt. You decided no harm would come in humoring your fantasies just one step further, and your fingers delicately undid that first button pushing the fabric to the sides, exposing but a fraction of his chest where your fingertips danced and caressed, hinting at the mischief and delicacy that could have been were it not for the honors he was about to receive.

“Darling…” Steb’s breath hitched and a smirk formed on his lips.

For a moment, he too wished you didn’t have other places to be, but if he had to settle for the moment, he’d make it worth it by grasping firmly at the backs of your thighs and lifting you up for you to wrap your legs around his waist as much as the skirt of your gown would allow. You gave a pleased giggle in response, now able to wrap your arms around him further, and you kissed his lips once more, brushing your tongue against his freely and with glee. One of your hands tugged softly at his hair, trying your best not to mess it up for him, and the other went to the back of his neck where your fingers rested on the crooks of the fins that went down his spine. You lost yourself in that kiss, hoping it would last forever, enjoying every second until Steb set you down on the ground again and sealed the moment with one last, tender kiss on your lips before rising up again.

You were dazed after such a session, and you were pleased to see that so was he. Steb grounded himself with a deep exhale, redoing the button of his shirt almost reluctantly, but you also noticed he had a little smile on his lips that hinted at satisfaction and even pride. You chuckled, glad that you could bring such emotions upon him. He then gazed at you, still smiling, and you grinned in anticipation of what the look on his face meant—he’d have his way with you after the ceremony.

But for the time being, you walked up to him one more time and hugged him gently, resting your head against his chest, able to hear the beating of his heart. You settled into the peace that came with the embrace, hoping dearly he felt better than before you’d arrived onto that balcony. You listened for any other sounds, but there was quiet all around you.

Yes, Piltover was at peace now, and when you felt Steb wrapping his arms around you once more, you knew things would be alright. Still in the embrace, you shifted to look up at him, your chin resting on his chest, able to gaze into his ocean eyes as he looked down at you. Tenderly, you smiled, and Steb smiled back as if he could read your thoughts, but he didn’t need to. The gleam in your eyes and softness of your smile told him everything, that you would stand with him through the honors he’d receive, and through everything else that followed.

Silently, you made that promise to him.

If you like this, please reblog too! Thanks for reading!

Tagging: @thegreatandlvable let me know if you want to be tagged in future Steb fics!

[3ardnpc]

The Name of Love

SUMMARY: You knew him by three names: Mando, Din, and finally, riduur.

PAIRING: din djarin x gn!reader

WORD COUNT: 6.9k

WARNINGS: fluff, angst, canon typical violence, blood, hypothermia, happy ending

A/N: a repost from my previous blog! i've only written 2 full din fics so far but this is def my favorite one <3 thanks again to @xiadeptus for beta reading this

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You first knew him as the Mandalorian, the stoic and aloof bounty hunter that drifted in and out of Tatooine looking for work or ship repairs. The glinting armor was hard not to notice under the scorching twin suns, along with his infamous reputation that followed in whispers—whispers which mainly revolved around the strange, green child he carried around in a bag and the fact that he never showed his face. 

When you first got the job at Peli’s garage, thanks to the favor she owed your mother, the sight of the Mandalorian descending the ramp of his beaten-up Razor Crest had you slipping behind a couple of stacked crates with the rest of the quivering pit droids. He strode down the ramp toward your boss who was already reaching for the green child trailing after him. 

“There’s my little guy!” She exclaimed, scooping him up and cradling him in her arms. The child cooed and clasped her finger in his three-fingered grasp. His keeper watched on with hands on his hips; the helmet remained solely focused on the child. 

“We need a repair,” he said, the rasp in his voice still remaining despite the modulator. 

“Sure thing but, just so you know, it’ll cost you a little extra this time. Got a new hire.” She jerked her thumb in your direction. 

You took it as your cue to reveal yourself, noting the way his helmet turned, carefully looking you up and down, and his hand slowly moved toward the blaster at his waist, like he wasn’t above shooting the harmless mechanic’s assistant and a couple of droids. You lifted both hands, stained with oil, as a show of goodwill.  

“Aw, relax, Mando,” Peli drawled, swatting the air with her nonchalant attitude. “They’re not a droid.” 

His hand slipped off the handle, but remained at his side, ready to draw if necessary. 

You sent him a friendly half-smile and his gloved fingers twitched. 

“Fine.”

The remainder of the day was spent repairing the left wing and engine of his ship, which looked like it had seen the losing side of a gunfight, and you couldn’t help but wonder how he managed to limp down to Tatooine without crashing and burning once he broke through the atmosphere. 

The job would have been faster if you had some assistance from the droids, but Peli made it clear they weren’t allowed anywhere near the ship or the Mandalorian, making his disdain for them abundantly clear. You wondered the whole day what a droid could have done to make him hate even the smallest of droids. The theories you built in your head ran wild, ranging from a nasty betrayal by a trusted ally to tripping him in a crowded cantina, embarrassing him so badly he vowed to never show his face ever again.

You leaned against the rope of the swing suspending you off the ground, taking a break from welding metal back together, and watched the Mandalorian move below your feet. He walked with purpose, something a fearsome bounty hunter with a widespread reputation was expected to do; every step was carefully calculated like a predator hunting prey. Behind him was the child clumsily waddling, as fast as his legs could carry him, after the man. 

Your lips curved into a soft smile while observing the dichotomy of the two. It warmed your heart to see how attached the child was to his guardian. More questions formed in your mind about their relationship; the rumors didn’t contain the exact details of how the two came to be together. 

Maybe the child is his biological son and beneath all the armor is green, wrinkly skin and comically large ears tucked into the helmet, you joked to yourself. 

You pressed one of the buttons on the side of your swing to lower yourself to the ground. Your feet touched the floor, but you didn’t get up. 

“Your ship should be up and running in no time.” 

“Thank you for your help.” 

“No pro- Oh!” You exclaimed when something poked at your leg. A three-fingered hand was tapping your leg; large black eyes gazed up at you. You cooed, “Hello there, little guy.” 

He tugged at the cuff of your pants, waving his arms in the air. You waved back, fighting back the urge to smooth your fingers over his floppy ears.

“He wants you to hold him.” 

“Ah,” you chuckled, cheeks warming. You didn’t have much experience with children; in fact, you didn’t know the first thing about caring for one. They had so many needs, so many different ways of communicating them too. The pressure to mold them into upstanding beings—it was just too much. But, you could definitely hold a child, especially one as cute as him. 

You pulled him into your arms and he immediately found the strings of your shirt vastly entertaining.

“I think he likes me,” you quipped. 

The child’s babble sounded like a positive response. 

“Me too,” the Mandalorian said, leaning against a crate and watching the two of you. 

There were multiple rotations between their visits. Each visit brought a new scratch, ding, or completely wrecked engine that made you look on in disbelief, but you were eager to see the two nonetheless. They brought stories of their adventures, bounties, and new people they met. 

You would be the first to greet them, standing at the base of the ship’s ramp with a wide grin and many questions budding on the tip of your tongue. 

“Hey.” 

The modulated voice made you snap out of your thoughts. 

“Yes, sir?” 

You could hear him huff behind the modulator. He said to just call him Mando the first time you called him sir, but you never picked it up, finding it too entertaining to hear his exasperated sighs. 

“Want to get off this planet? I’ve got a job proposition.” 

Your goodbyes were easy—a hug for Peli, head pats for each droid—and suddenly, you found yourself sitting in the cockpit of the ship you had been repairing for the past few rotations. 

You quickly learned space was cold and you were not prepared. The thin clothes you were used to on Tatooine wouldn’t cut it anymore and it left you shivering in the passenger seat. 

You sunk down your seat, wrapping your arms around yourself to find a semblance of warmth. 

You weren’t sure what your purpose was in the time between ports, but even if you knew, you were frozen to your seat and unable to move without feeling stiff. 

Soon, you fell asleep, lulled by the stars and the sound of beeps and hollow groans of an old ship.

You woke to fabric being draped over your body and a glimmer of beskar. 

The hands over the fabric paused; the Mandalorian stepped back, hands returning to his side, flexing at his waist. “Should have told me you were cold.”

You gripped the fabric and realized it was one of his thick, woolen capes which smelled of caf beans and leather. You resisted the urge to nestle your cheek against the wool and savor the comfort it offered.

“I didn’t want to be a bother.” 

“You’re a part of my crew now,” he said firmly. “We take care of each other.” 

Your heart stuttered, fingers curled tighter around his cape, and you muttered a pathetic, “Yeah.” 

From the kindness he offered, you made a silent promise at that moment; as long as the three of you were together, you would do anything to protect them. 

It wouldn’t be long before you realized he felt the same. 

—

Then, you learned his name, his real name—Din Djarin. It had been a while into your partnership. You learned far more about the two than your theories could have imagined—his Creed, his force-wielding child. 

The three of you had a good routine. He would scout out bounties while you either worked on the ship or found other mechanic work elsewhere if the ship was (miraculously) undamaged. Grogu would be passed between the two of you. If Mando’s bounty was too dangerous for him to follow you’d take him for the day, letting him pass you random tools and praising him for helping. And at the end of the day, the three of you reconvened with separate checks that would go toward supplies and other basic necessities. If it was a particularly rough day, you would be forcing him onto a crate and checking his wounds. 

“I’m fine,” he would insist, attempting to push your wandering hands aside. But, you could see the unsteady shake of his hand and the sliver of skin and blood showing on his waist where he was cut. 

It was a simple routine, but it worked. You had no complaints… 

…Well, just one.

“ Kriff, we’re gonna crash!” You cried, shutting your eyes to avoid seeing your imminent doom that took the form of two towering cliffs of ice far too close together for the ship to slip through. The two tailing bounty hunter ships had followed you from Nevaro, after accusing Mando of stealing a bounty from them, which he rightfully caught. 

You knew working for a bounty hunter wasn’t going to be easy, comfortable, or safe—but, you trusted him. He was good at what he did and you never doubted it. 

The ship turned on its side, jerking your entire body to the right, and left you at the mercy of the belt across your body to keep you in your seat. You could hear the scrape of ice across the bottom of the ship and cringed, knowing you’d have to repair that (if you even made it out of this alive). 

When the ship slipped free from the narrow gap and straightened. you let out a breath and opened your eyes. Snow, miles, and miles of it, touched everything your eyes could see. 

He glanced at you over his shoulder. If you could see his face, you’d guess it was smug. 

You were getting better at reading your faceless partner. He didn’t say much but his body did with every head tilt and shrug. And you would catch yourself spending a lot of time just observing him. 

“You’ve gotta stop piloting like that,” you huffed, cradling your head when you feel the slightest throb. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

“Don’t plan on it,” came his monotone response. 

The ship cruised, his helmet scanning the horizon, and kept low in the meantime. There was no sign of the other two ships. 

You unbuckled your seatbelt and stood; a wave of dizziness had you staggering. When your hand flew out to catch on to something, you found his, already reaching out to steady you in his strong grasp. The brush of his thumb over your knuckles made your breath catch.

“I have to lie down.” To stop your heart from racing at his subtle touches. 

You thought you had gotten used to it by now—the way he made you feel safe. Whether it was his hand hovering over the base of your spine as he guided you through a crowded market or how he would always position himself between you and whatever shady character he had dealings with. The small gestures piled up and toyed with your mind. You understood the signs—heart racing, nervous tension in your chest—the budding symptoms of love. 

“We’re not in the clear yet.” 

You brushed the heat crawling over your neck off and said, “Can’t we land somewhere and wait them out a while? I’m gonna be sick if you start flying upside down.”

The beginning of his argument was cut off by the cockpit door opening. You slipped out and down the ladder into the cargo hold. Some crates shifted to the right of the ship as a result of the sharp turn. You weren’t concerned with them as much as you were with your makeshift bed space, a flimsy sleeping bag and some blankets, which were also flung off to the side. One of your blankets was stuck under a crate, too heavy for you to lift by yourself. 

You groaned, weakly tugging at the fabric peeking out beneath. You were cold, tired, and sick—you already hated this planet. 

You heard a curse from above and Mando shouted, “Hold onto something!” 

You didn’t have time to react before the ship was nose-diving, throwing you against the wall. You clung to the ladder as the ship's sporadic movements jostled your entire body. It continued for a few more seconds before settling and the engines cut out. Everything was finally still, except your heart. 

You heard the creaks of ice settling beneath the ship, then cracks. It wasn’t long before the ice gave way to the weight, shattering into a cavern below and dragging the ship with it. 

You don’t remember hitting your head, just the scream that came before it. But, when you finally came to, numb and confused, Mando was rattling your shoulders with a panicked voice.

“Wake up.” 

You could have sworn in your daze there was a desperate ‘please’ added at the end. 

You groaned, peeling your eyes open, “Mando?” 

He sighed like a massive weight was lifted off of him. “Yeah,” he said, there was a hint of a smile in his voice. He carefully slipped his arms behind your shoulders and knees. “It’s me. I’ve got you.”

You were half aware of him lifting you, too dazed by the cold settling under your skin and making a home deep in your bones.  

The hull was dusted with snow and frost. You spotted a large hole in the side of the ship, crudely covered with a tarp and some crates. 

“Got t’ fix,” you mumbled, leaning your head against his shoulder pauldron. You didn’t even know where to start with something that large on this barren planet. If you weren’t so cold, the dread would have set in, realizing you were stranded on a barren planet with little resources to dig yourselves up from a cold grave. 

“Not right now,” he grunted, kicking your toolbox aside—the one he gifted you on Nevaro after you eyed it at a stall for too long. He approached the small corner beside his bunk, which was caved in, where there was little snow piled. He set you down, supporting the back of your head with his hand as he laid you against the wall. “I’ll be right back.” 

You could’ve protested if your mouth or eyes didn’t feel frozen shut; all you wanted to do was drift off.

“Hey, hey,” he said. He ripped a glove off and pressed his warm hand to your cheek. “Don’t fall asleep.”

You moaned, pushing closer to the warmth, and tried to focus on his visor. 

“There you go. Good.” 

With your thoughts slowly catching up, you glanced around his shoulders, not seeing a floating pram anywhere. You wanted to get up and rush around him in search of the child, but all you could muster was a sharp turn of your head that still sent pain down your neck. “Where’s-”

Mando brought your face back to him. His steady voice pulled you out of your panic. “He’s fine. He’s up in the cockpit; I’ll bring him down after I get you some blankets.” 

“Okay.” You rested your head against the wall and watched as he untied his cape and slipped it over your shoulders, tucking it close around your body. 

He disappeared up the ladder. You heard his faint footsteps, scouring the upper level. He returned soon, a few blankets slung over his shoulder and Grogu tucked in his other arm. 

He set Grogu down and moved you forward just enough for him to sling more blankets over your shoulders.

If you could feel your face, maybe you’d laugh at how ridiculous you looked and felt, like a small child being coddled by a worried parent. But, he wasn’t a worried parent, he was your employer—your incredibly kind and caring employer, who you often dreamt of as more than an employer, more than a friend. 

“Aren’t y-you,” you chattered, “cold, too?” 

You worried about him under all that shining armor; he could be hiding an injury like he always did, pretending he was fine and limping off somewhere else to lick his wounds alone. You wished he wouldn’t be so stubborn all the time. 

Grogu crawled into your lap, playing with the tips of your frozen fingers. Mando said something about his armor keeping him warm, but you didn’t register any of it when his hands enveloped yours—calloused and warm.  

“Try to keep your arms and legs moving,” he said, massaging the palm of your hands. Then he directed his attention to Grogu. “Okay, kid, keep your buir warm. I’m going to repair the ship.” 

“Hm?” You cocked your head at the word. Sure, he liked sneaking Mando’a words into his sentences from time to time—sometimes calling you mesh’la or cyar’ika, which made you blush because of how sincere he sounded—but you just assumed they were nicknames. You assumed buir meant babysitter or something along those lines, too. “Stealing my job, Mando?” you quipped instead. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

When his hands slipped from yours, your fingers twitched, almost asking him not to go. You would warm up faster if he were with you.

He slipped past the tarp, into the cavern of snow. Grogu’s babble drew your attention; his arms were raised.

You apologized, “Sorry, kid, I’d lift you up, but my arms are a bit sore right now.”

He continued to babble as he found comfort nestled in your lap instead. You rested your head against the wall and stared at the opening where Mando left, still feeling the ghost of his warmth on your hand. 

The minutes you spent slowly flexing your hands and feet paid off; your strength was slowly returning. Grogu crawled off of your lap and watched as you, with the grace of a newborn calf, pushed yourself onto unsteady feet.

“Okay, kid, let’s go help your dad.” You scooped him up and braced yourself with Mando’s cape, making sure the two of you were snug beneath the fabric before pushing aside the tarp and stepping outside into the frigid weather. 

The cold winds were the first to greet you; already, your cheeks were growing numb. Grogu let out a disapproving grunt, clearly not favoring the cold either. 

You stayed close to the side of the ship in case your legs gave out and rounded the tail end before finding Mando, with frost coating his armor and hands on his hip, staring at a jumble of wires hanging from an open panel. 

Upon seeing his father, Grogu cheered in your arms, alerting the Mandalorian whose head snapped in your direction. 

He was already approaching you before declaring, “You need to rest.” 

“I can’t cozy up in there while you’re out here all by yourself. Look at you.” You drew a line in the frost coating his chest plate. “You must be freezing under all that.” 

“I said I’m-”

“Fine,” you finished. “I know, I know—you’re always fine, Mando.” 

You were growing tired of his stubborn attitude concerning his well-being and of standing for so long. You were beginning to sway without realizing it, but Mando’s quick hand on your shoulder steadied you. 

“I got you,” he murmured. He took Grogu from you and moved to your side. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, silently guiding you back into the ship’s hull and onto the spot where the blankets were piled. 

Once you were settled, you expected him to wander back out but, to your surprise, he began detaching pieces of his armor. 

You watched, mouth agape, as one by one the shining beskar revealed a dark flight suit that molded with the contours of his body. The helmet, of course, stayed.

He eased himself onto the floor beside you and wrapped the three of you beneath the blankets. Your eyes widened when his arm pressed against yours. You dared to rest your head against his shoulder; you relished in the comfort of his presence, finally feeling warmer than ever. His body began to relax gradually with your head on his shoulder and his chest rose and fell in an even rhythm. 

With Grogu resting in your lap it almost felt like the three of you were a family, settling in after a long day. 

“You’re always protecting everyone,” you said, exhaustion beginning to creep over you once again. “We’re a crew, right? Let me take care of you too.” 

You knew the irony in saying that while he was taking care of you, but you hoped he would remember it. 

He slipped his gloves off to flex the stiff muscles. “I’m,” he started, “just not used to this.” 

“Having a crew?” You guessed. 

“Having someone care.”

Your mouth dropped open with a response dying on your tongue. Instead, you resolved to take his hand and curl your fingers through his. They were stiff from the cold, but relaxed once your thumb ran over the ridges of his knuckles. 

“You’re a good man and I trust you with my life. Don’t think for a second I don’t care about you, Mando. I-” You cut yourself off.

You what? Loved him? Kriff. He just started opening up to you. Telling him you were in love with him right after would surely make him run in the other direction. You doubted he felt the same. You could read him, but not that well. 

“Din.”

You snapped out of your thoughts, relieved he didn’t attempt to figure out what you were going to say. “What?” 

“My name’s Din.” 

He was looking at you now. Maybe if you squinted hard enough you could catch a glimpse of his eyes behind his darkened visor, but you wouldn’t disrespect his Creed and you didn’t think you could handle seeing his strong gaze, boring into you. 

So, you turned your eyes down toward your intertwined hands; you tested his name on your tongue and smiled. 

Getting off the ice planet took work—a mix of frustration and determination—and you swore to get a nice vacation on some far, far away planet, preferably with a warm, sunny beach. 

But, the ship needed heavier repairs, forcing the three of you to find the nearest planet, Trask, for maintenance. A dock worker was quick to offer his services, charging more than necessary, once you landed. 

You frowned when Din agreed without hesitation, dropping the credits into his slimy hands. You could have rolled up your sleeves and got to work yourself with better equipment at hand, but Din insisted on the three of you getting some real rest after the stress of the past three days. 

The place was seedy, smelled of fish, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of unwanted eyes stalking the three of you as you passed through the quiet harbor. You and Din walked on either side of Grogu’s floating pram. 

You, with a scowl glued to your face, pulled your cape, one of Din’s, tighter around yourself. The toolbox Din gifted you was clasped in your hand, deemed too precious to leave behind while strangers fixed the ship. You leaned into Din and whispered, “We should just go back to Tatooine for the repairs; I can do it.”

“I know you can, but the ship’s too damaged and you know it.”

You huffed. 

Grogu mimicked your huff, putting on his best grouchy face, and your frown lightened into a smile, pointing at the boy. “See—even he agrees with me.”

Din let out an amused hum. “When did the two of you decide to team up against me?” 

“We hold secret meetings when you’re out and conspire against you.” 

“Guess I should watch my back,” he deadpanned. 

Night fell quickly on Trask and before you knew it, the streets were oddly quiet, only lit by dim street lights in rounded sections. 

Din’s stride grew cautious; his helmet subtly turned to scan the area. 

You also took caution, straining your ears for anything out of place, but all you heard was the nearby tide pulling in and out. 

There was a shift in the gravel behind you. Din’s hand shot out to shove aside Grogu’s pram, sending him off to a nearby stack of crates, and he could only brush your shoulder before turning and deflecting a blaster shot with his vambrace. The heat from the blast radiated in the air around you. 

“Run!” He barked, ripping his blaster from its holder and firing off a shot into the dark. 

Your feet hesitated and your heart stuttered when another blast hit his chest plate, forcing a grunt from him. But, the sound of worried coos snapped you out of it. You turned and ran toward Grogu who watched the fight with large eyes.  

Three figures emerged from the darkness, dressed like pirates, and armed with unrelenting blasters all aimed at Din.  

“Give up the armor, Mando.” One of them demanded.

“It’s time to hide, okay?” You said, tucking Grogu into the pram. Your thumb brushed over the mythosaur necklace he always wore like a lucky charm and you were praying it would work. You pressed the button on the outside of his pram to shut it. 

The fight was coming to a close by the time you turned back, much to your relief. Two were knocked out cold, sprawled across the floor while the remaining one continued to fight. Both of them resorted to hand-to-hand combat after they managed to disarm one another. 

Just when you thought you could relax, the remaining pirate pulled out a blade and took a swipe at Din, plunging it deep into his side and back out. Your breathing stopped when Din staggered and fell to his knees. 

The pirate grabbed him by his cowl, pressing the bloodied blade to his throat, and sneered, “Give up.” 

Your hands shook. Not like this, you thought. You couldn’t— wouldn’t —lose him. You dropped your toolbox and fell to your knees, wrenching it open to look for anything that would help. You pulled the largest item free, the hammer, and ran. Adrenaline pushed your feet toward the two and, putting all your weight into it, you swung at the pirate's head, sending him stumbling back.

Only dazed, the pirate sent you a menacing glare, lips pulled back into a snarl, and spat out curses, promising you’d regret it. 

Your hand clenched the hammer, heart racing, ready to swing again as he prepared to lunge at you. Not even fear or the promise of death would stop you from saving Din.  

Then, something ignited, cold and droning like echoes of the abyss, behind the pirate. 

You smelt the smoke before the nauseating burnt flesh. It made your stomach roll.

A haunting glow emitted from the pirate's chest before it was sliced clean through. He fell—lifeless—with a thud, crimson leaking from the gash and pooling around him. 

Din stood over him—one hand clutching his waist and the other holding the darksaber. His chest rose and fell; his helmet was fixated on the body. You could hear the leather of his gloves cry as his hand tightened around the hilt of the saber.  

You never saw him use it before. It looked more like an accessory on him rather than a weapon. He once explained its bloody history and how he came to acquire it. The weight of its importance haunted him, a burden he never wished to bear. 

“Oh, Maker,” you cried, rushing toward him. The darksaber unignighted; the heavy atmosphere disappeared along with it and time continued. You dropped the hammer and pressed your hand to his wound. Blood seeped through his fingers and onto yours. 

He grunted, “I’m…” 

Your wavering voice saying his name made him pause. 

“Let’s get out of the street,” he said instead. He waved Grogu’s pram forward with the controls on his vambrace. It opened, revealing the whimpering child. 

The three of you limped all the way to an inn. When the innkeeper sent you a weary look, you demanded the first room available and a medical kit—whatever the price. After slapping the credits on the counter, you snatched up the kit and dragged Din toward the room, not caring about the drops of blood staining the hallway.  

The room was small and gray; a single bed set in the middle of the room, a nightstand on either side, and a fresher. You eased him onto the bed, where he slumped and groaned.

The medical kit was meager; a suture kit, antiseptic wipes, and a few bacta patches, but it would do. You dashed to the fresher to wash your hands. You scrubbed them viciously, watching his blood run down the sink. Tears blurred your vision. The red wouldn’t stop running. 

When you emerged from the fresher, his shirt was already rolled up and he was attempting to clean his wound. Grogu was asleep in his pram, wiped out from all the excitement. 

You released a tired sigh. “Let me.” 

You moved to take the cloth from him, kneeling at his feet and wiping around the area of the wound gently.

“Don’t do that again,” he rasped.

“Save your life?” The playful tone you attempted fell flat. As much as you wanted to be amused, the fear of losing him still suffocated you. He was safe, your thoughts repeated.

Once the wound was cleaned you pulled the needle from the kit. You were in over your head and a bit nauseous. Cleaning wounds was easy, but stitching them up was something else. 

You’ve seen him cauterize his own wounds and pinched your nose when the smell became too much. He didn’t deserve the scars they left behind and this was your opportunity to finally take care of him. 

You willed your hands not to tremble as you notched the needle through his skin, apologizing when he sucked in a sharp breath or flinched.

“I told you to run.”

Your voice was finally firm when you said, “I’m not going to leave you.” 

He was your partner, through and through, and you cared for him. 

When you were finished, you unwrapped a bacta patch and laid it over the suture. You smoothed over the patch and withdrew your hands. 

He was already sitting up taller, no longer hunched over or wheezing. You knew it was a good sign but you still trembled all over.

You raised your head, but your eyes were stuck on his cowl where a sliver of his blood was left from the blade. The tears were returning, flooding your bottom lashes. 

Would that pirate have killed him right there on the street, stripped him of his armor, and left him like trash? You would have had to drag his body back to the ship—would have to tell Grogu his father was dead. 

“Cyar’ika, look at me,” he said, finding your cheek with his palm. “Just breathe.” 

You didn’t realize you were gasping for breath, tears running down your cheeks until your eyes finally connected with his visor. 

“I just can’t lose you, Din,” you cried. “I can’t .”

There was so much you wanted to say—so much he needed to know. You were so close to losing him and losing the chance to admit how you’d grown to feel over the course of your partnership.

He guided you onto the bed and held you until the tears stopped and subsided into sniffles. Your face was buried in his cowl and your arms were thrown around his shoulder. 

“I can’t lose you either,” he admitted, a waver in his voice. You were so close you could almost hear the sound of his real voice. His words were tender and sincere. 

Your breath hitched and a realization washed over you. 

He pulled back and you pulled yourself out of his neck with wide eyes. Cold metal met your forehead. 

“You mean far too much to me.” 

For a man of few words, he still said so much. Your hand brushed below the rim of his helmet. “I love you, Din,” you confessed.

Your heart pounded as you waited for his response—for even the sharpest intake of breath. But, it was silent—all but your heart remained still as he processed your words. Your hand slipped away, back to the safety of your personal bubble, which was beginning to shrink as the silence became an oppressive weight on your shoulders. 

Say something, you wanted to shout. Did you read his words wrong? Was it just appreciation for his… employee? 

“Close the curtains and turn off the light.”

Your brows furrowed and you cocked your head to the side. “What?”

“Please.”

You stood with a frown and shuffled to shut the curtains, then made your way to the light switch. You took one last glance over your shoulder, before flipping the switch and submerging the room in darkness. You could hardly see his silhouette as you shuffled back to the bed with your hands out in front.

A calloused hand found your wandering ones, carefully pulling you down to sit beside him once again, not letting go. Then, you heard a click and a hiss, like he was detaching his—

Your eyes widened when you realized what he was doing and you tried pulling away. Even in the darkness, where shadows fell across the silhouette of his body, you couldn’t risk seeing him—no matter how curious. 

“Din, no-” 

“It’s alright,” he reassured. The low rasp of his voice was no longer modified by his helmet. He chased after you in the dark; his hand moved to the back of your neck, drawing your face closer to his. You could feel the warmth of his breath brushing across your lips. 

The smell of caf and leather drew you closer you and you fell into its embrace. It was your safety, your haven—the home you found in him, along with his son and his beaten-down ship. 

“ Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika, ” he whispered into the darkness, gentle devotion laced in his words. “ I love you .” 

When he kissed you, it was slow, a tender meeting of lips which you both relaxed into. The weight off your shoulders disappeared and all you could do was smile against his lips and draw him closer. 

That night you traced his features in the dark, committing every outline and curve to memory, with a content smile and full heart while he held you close. You didn’t need to see his face to love him; it could wait—forever if it meant you’d still have him.

“You know,” he said in the darkness with you tucked close under his arm, “you wield a hammer well. It reminds me of someone I know.”

“Really? Who?”

It was nearly a full cycle before you met the Armorer, the mysterious figure Din would mention from time to time, a woman he seemed to respect. 

You were nervous. Though he never said it directly, she was like a maternal figure and you wanted to make a good impression. 

Ever since Trask, the two of you were closer than ever. He had no reservations when it came to you. His hand would lay firmly against your lower back as he crowded around you, guiding you through busy markets, pulling you close whenever someone bumped into you. You no longer slept alone, trading out your flimsy sleeping bag for a cozy spot in his bed. At night when the lights were out, you’d finally get to kiss him and share dreams. 

The covert was located on a barren planet. You wouldn’t have guessed there was any life if it weren’t for the scattered Mandalorian sparing at the mouth of a cave. 

By the time you landed near the lake, only two Mandalorians emerged to greet you. 

“It’s been a while.” A large, blue man said upon approaching, greeting the three of you with a simple nod. He towered over everyone, a mass of muscle and armor that radiated intimidation. 

As he approached, your foot slid back as you bent your neck to meet his visor and you bumped into Din. He rested a hand on your shoulder. “This is Paz, my brother.” 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said, sticking a hand out. 

The hand that takes yours is firm; he shook once and let go. The hand on your shoulder squeezed. 

“It seems your clan has grown.” The figure to Paz’s right spoke, her visor trained on the hand over your shoulder. You needed no introduction for her. It was obvious in the way she spoke, authoritative and clear, that she was the Armorer. 

Your lips quirked. A clan, huh? 

She welcomed you briefly and Din requested a private audience in her forge. When Din handed Grogu off to you, he said, “Stay with Paz, cyar’ika.”

“Cyar’ika?” The Armorer paused. “Have you claimed them as your riduur?”

You cast Din a curious glance. Riduur?

“I… haven’t,” he said carefully.

“I see.” She resumed her pace and disappeared into the cave.  

Din followed, not before pressing his forehead to yours. It was like a kiss, he explained once. You were fine with it. You knew as soon as the day was over, he’d make up for all the kisses you’d missed out on.

“He seems to like you.”

“I would hope so,” you quipped, turning to Paz once Din was out of sight. “He loves me, after all.”

You finally got your well-deserved vacation—on a planet called Pabu, with bright blue skies and a sparkling blue ocean—and more than you could have ever wished for. 

Gentle waves lapped at your bare feet as you leaned back against the palm of your hands to soak in the last of the dying sun. 

Relaxing like this felt rare and fleeting; part of you was worried some other danger would rear its ugly head and ruin the tranquility. But, a quick glance toward Grogu, who was splashing in the water, and Din, standing watch to make sure he didn’t snatch up any crabs as a snack, dispelled any worry and replaced it with a warmth that spread through your chest like the sun's rays. 

You cracked a smile at the Mandalorian who was barefoot as well, after you convinced him to step into the waves, with his pants rolled up to the bottom of his knees. 

“Stop that,” came Din’s chastising demand. Grogu was levitating a poor crab toward his mouth before letting it fall back into the water with a grumble, his ears pulled back as he looked up at his father with a pout. “You’ll ruin your dinner,” he reasoned, reaching down to scoop the fussing child from the water. 

You stood, wiping away sand clinging to your thighs, and walked over to the pair. Din’s helmet followed you as you approached, his shoulders were far more relaxed than you’d ever seen them. 

Even when you stood in front of them, finger brushing along Grogu’s ear as he cooed, his gaze did not stray. You just thought it was your bathing suit; it showed off more skin than usual. Which, you admit, you hoped would catch his attention.  

“Problem?” You teased, looking at him with a sly smile. 

He shook his head slowly. He was uncharacteristically quiet, more so than usual. Ever since his private chat with the Armorer, he’d been distracted. Staring more than usual—at you, the controls of the ship, the floor—like he was lost deep in thought. 

You looked out at the sunset, a wash of orange and gold against a glittering sea. You let out a wistful sigh. “I could spend forever here with you two.”

“You mean that?” 

“Nothing would make me happier.”

His hand drifted toward the pouch on his belt, fingering the hem. A nervous habit, you assumed, he picked up after visiting the Armorer. 

You rested your hand on his and asked, “Are you sure there’s no problem?” 

“Marry me.”

You froze, mouth agape.

“M-marry you?”

“I wish for more days like today, too—safe, peaceful days together with our son.” He opened his pouch and pulled out a silver ring that glittered against the setting sun, reminding you of his armor. 

Your hand slipped from his to your mouth, covering up the shock written across your face. Your watering eyes moved between the two who’ve grown so close to your heart. They were your life, your home, and you’d spend forever with them. You knew your answer—you’ve always known, ever since he asked you to join them. In your heart it was always—

“Yes,” you cried, throwing your arms around the two of them. “Yes, absolutely!” 

You stayed tucked in his arms with Grogu nestled between the two of you. And, in the foreground of a golden sky, he asked if you would cite the Mandalorian vows. 

Riduur, he said, you would be mine, and I you. Our hearts will be written together in song.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

“We are one when together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors.”

Finally, he was no longer just the Mandalorian or Din, he was your riduur. 

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Soft moments with Rudy after he is rescued by Alejandro and brought to the safe house? Small angst because Rudy could have died and the reader is in love with Rudy but it turns soft.

—A Love Like Ours Makes Us Strong

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Rodolfo came back, alive but bruised. How do you explain how terrified you were?] ❞

You silently clean your guns, moving the oiled rag over the blackened pieces laid out over the old crate of a makeshift table. Leaning against the wall, your eyes are always drawn back to the mess of a man sleeping in the cot across the room. 

He could have died.

Sighing, you shake your head, pacing down the part you hold in favor of another, not stopping until every speck of dirt is gone. You could only do so much to distract yourself from the terror you’d felt when everything went wrong—from the knee-shaking relief when Alejandro had brought Rudy back to you. There were so many emotions, that the concoction in your veins had left you numb.

Quite the dichotomy, no? 

“He wouldn’t want you to strain yourself, you know?” Even now the Colonel is trying to get you to rest. How can you when the man you love is battered and bruised? 

Your vigil had started the moment he had been dragged through these safehouse doors. 

Alejandro’s serious expression shows itself as he walks forward, arms crossed. You hum, shrugging. 

“It’s reckless,” he utters, words firm. 

“It’s instinct,” you reply, glancing up slowly. “How long until others get here and we can get him proper care?”

“He’s going to be alright. No one keeps him down for long—not Rudy.”

“I’m not asking that,” you mutter under your breath, taking up another piece of black metal before Alejandro comes over and steals it out of your grip. Your lids pull in a glare, looking over at him heatedly. 

“Ale—”

“You need rest,” he says, his brown eyes not letting up. A smirk flickers across his lips, teasing softly as one would a sister. “Do not make me order you away, eh? We both know that will only end in bloodshed.”

“From me or you,” you grumble, sighing. 

He wasn’t wrong—you’d been up far too long to be alert anymore; doing mindless tasks with the hope of keeping your mind off of your inner battle. The same battle that had been going on for months now—years. 

You loved Rodolfo. Alejandro knew it, the men knew it, hell, even Rudy himself probably knew it, but it wasn’t like it was something you could help. It had just…happened. 

“Me, probably,” Alejandro chuckles smoothly, moving away and placing your belongings down. He spares you a glance as he walks back to his position near the front door as a lookout. “I won’t get in the way of your anger any day soon, no. I quite like my life, you see.”

“Well,” you rub at your face. “I can’t call you dumb, then.”

His short laugh is what you hear as you walk over to Rudy’s cot, taking a moment to look down at him as he sleeps. 

The man has bandages and gauze wrapped around his arms—one on his neck as well. He had a cut on his forehead, too. Not deep enough for stitches, but it had still been cleaned and the invisible trace of medical tape was pulling at his skin near the sharp angle of his eyebrows. Reaching a hand out hesitantly, you brush your fingers through his dark hair and watch his slightly tight face loosen, his puffing breaths evening out in his chest. 

Your face softens at that, but your sentiency soon snaps you out of your trance; imagining how strange you look as you quickly turn away and walk to the corner of the safehouse. 

Grumbling, you settle back against the wall and lean your scalp into the wood, crossing your arms before you let the darkness settle in around your eyes like a veil. 

But who were you kidding, all of your dreams just led back to him anyway.

When you wake back up, there’s soft talking before the front door of the safehouse closes on its rusty hinges, a silence re-settling that almost allows you to fall back to sleep if not for the limping footsteps that trail over to you. A hand curls your legs and the width of your shoulders, and with a low grunt, you’re picked up and carried somewhere.

When your head hits the fabric of the cot, your eyelids flutter half-open. 

“I know you’re not switching me out, Rodolfo. Get back in here—you’re injured.”

A sheepish face comes into view. 

“I…I didn’t know you were awake.” You frown, hand coming up to rub at your face and clear the blurriness of your vision. “But, really, I’d prefer it if you have it. I’m feeling better, and I don’t want you to have to sleep on the ground.”

Perhaps the fatigue had lowered your inhibitions. 

“Get in,” you huff, scooting over. There’s a pause from the man, his eyes blinking in confusion for a moment.

“Say again?” 

“You heard me. Get in.” 

“That’s not necessary—I’m fine out here, you see?”

“I love you,” you whisper, eyes glinting as they try to stay awake. Rudy’s body goes as straight as a board, his eyes so wide they could be saucers—his lips are slightly parted as if to say something before you order again. “So get in and hold me.” 

For a long time, nothing happens, and then a soft huff of laughter makes your lips twitch as a hand brushes your cheek. A small utterance from the Sergeant Major.

“Quite the way to tell a man, no?”

“You did almost die.” You say, falling deeper and deeper by the second.

“Ah,” Rudy mutters, guilt in his tone as he moves closer, slipping into the cot beside you with a grunt that reverberates in his chest. “I’m sorry.”

You hum, feeling his arms wrap around you. 

“Can I…kiss you?” He asks.

You smile and sit right on the cusp of sleep. 

“You better,” your words are slurred, and just before you fall back into nothingness, the warm press of delicate lips falls to your forehead. 

“I love you too.”

[memphisfoodnotbombs]

@totally-california @pyxilate

We never said “you can’t vote for your favorite genocidal maniac.”

Vote or don’t vote, but never be deceived that it will make a difference, there’s literally no lower form of political participation. That’s why they give you a sticker.

Here’s Kamala Harris mocking people who say “we need more education” and vehemently asserting that “we need more prisons” https://youtu.be/4HZjLnj7WGM?si=LFyg9EyfWJL-IQSF

And here’s Kamala Harris clearing rapist killer cops while degrading black women, her continuum as DA: https://www.latimes.com/local/lanow/la-me-ln-mitrice-richardson-closed-20170202-story.html

Picture is a mosaic of the black men Kamala Harris threw into cages.

Thinking that because someone isn’t for one genocidal maniac the must be in favor of the other genocidal maniac is fallacious thinking, it’s known as a “false dichotomy,” sometimes referred to as “black and white thinking.”

We are anarchists, it’s not in our nature to accept tyrants as legitimate authorities, but anyone who knows anything about politics would be able to tell you that.

[neyafromfrance95]

i want to write haladriel fic but i have no ideas at all. got any suggestions?

this is very subjective, but here are some specific things i personally would love in my haladriel fics (i'm not including the hcs/aus that i love but that are already popular like the mind-palace):

galadriel's scars left by morgoth's crown being sensitive to sauron's touch and smtms even craving it bc only he can soothe the pain.

sauron loving to take care of galadriel's hair. washing/brushing/braiding it. playing with her locks whenever he is happy or nervous.

incorporate finrod more. we can't overstate his importance in trop!galadriel's story. he had shaped her wisdom and lightness, his loss has left a gaping hole in her heart. avenging *him* is her driving force. everyone goes "what about celeborn?" but the "third" *individual* between sauron and galadriel will always be finrod. it is *very* interesting that it seems halbrand filled the hole left by finrod's absence for galadriel. and how sauron used that...

don't soften galadriel's relentless opposition and fight against sauron. don't water down her hatred. for me, what makes their sexually-charged push-pull dynamic so much more interesting is that her hatred of sauron is so strong it's part of her identity, and then, it suddenly gets mixed up with her love for halbrand, her connection with halbrand being above everything else - what a jarring contrast! + knowing that her sworn foe loves her? so much existential and emotional angst. don't downplay this fascinating psychological aspect of galadriel's feelings in favor of "taming" her hatred *and* pride. and since u are asking for my opinion, here is my meta on galadriel's feelings for sauron.

don't water down her darkness either. even in the 3rd age she has it. yes, she is the lady of the light but not in a "saint" kind of way, rather in a powerful warrior/witch of the light kind of way. she is sauron's mirror and she has sent countless elves and numenoreans to their deaths bc of her belief in her divine destiny. she is a hero whose light is blinding, and she constantly battles her darkness but chooses the light and this is why she is the opposite of sauron.

one thing that defines galadriel the most, i'd say even more than her being the lady of the light, is that she wants to be a leader. we can think of galadriel as a warrior, a commander, a witch, a queen, a politician, the lady of the light, but in all of these roles she is a leader. and she always determines and does things her own way. at best, it makes her a successful outlier. at worst, it makes her an outcast. so i would like to see more of that with her.

it can be said that in some ways, finrod is an excuse for her obsessive fight while her main desire is glory, power and recognition, and her main drive is her own darkness and ambition to be the one who slays sauron and saves all middle-earth so that everyone bends their knee to her. she likes being a crusader in the 2nd age, and being a powerful witch in the 3rd age. i would love these traits to be highlighted in fics.

there is a dichotomy in either's feelings for the other and i think it's fascinating to explore. especially with this season highlighting sauron's (maybe subconscious) wish to worship her vs. his (desperate) need to possess her. i actually would love a mythological au where sauron is a delusional and obsessive worshiper of that universe's god of the light galadriel. could be an interesting mystical concept to explore. (insp - 1, 2, 3, 4).

knight!galadriel knight!galadriel knight!galadriel

knight!galadriel falling in love with the dark being she is hunting down and trying to slay (insp - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6).

this gifset makes me want to read a knight!galadriel x original!sauron au.

the backstory about warrior!galadriel's adventures, her quests and crusades. the more she fights and desires power, the more alienated she is amongst elves, but it's almost as if she isn't alone. it's not just finrod's dagger that keeps her company, but the perpetual presence of her sworn enemy she is devoted to slaying on her mind! he is always with her, the thought of killing him calming her down and comforting her.

unpopular opinion! i actually don't mind love triangles. like, i would hate anyone getting in the way of haladriel in the show itself, but it can be fun in some fics. and it *could* work with anyone - i would prefer celeborn and adar but i wouldn't hate gandalf or even elrond (i prefer him as gal's bff ofc). even morgoth as sauron's abusive ex could work.

MODERN AU! guys, i really need it. and when it comes to the modern aus, i like them fluffy hurt/comfort tbh. young love type of stuff. but it also can be ceo!galadriel x secretary!sauron. in a modern timeline, galadriel would 100% be a careerist striving for a leadership position, while sauron would be a perfectionist in either crafts or service industry. also, would love a larger cast of characters.

yuri haladriel selfcest. please.

galadriel x slime!sauron <3

witch!galadriel in the witches & wizards au!

i yapped a lot about galadriel & sauron vs. morgoth and if anyone is willing to write it, i would owe them my life, lol. i feel like it would need to be a multi-chapter epic tho.

[world-of-tomorrow-dreams]

I Am Thinking About The Source Characters Again: How A Years-Long Hyperfixation Colors My Understanding Of Each Character’s Role In The Plot

If you follow me you are probably aware that The Source (2017) by Ayreon is a concept album a lot of people are very normal about. You may not know that I was HUGELY into personality typology at one point of time (like the MBTI, Enneagram, stuff like that). I like to make connections I guess, and think about things way more than I should, so I’ve actually put it into writing now. Woohoo? Anyway yeah this requires a lot of infodumping on my part so it’s all under the cut, proceed at your own risk

A lot of people have heard of the MBTI, funky four letter tags like INFJ and ESTP that are getting wildly popular and often dismissed as fad pseudoscience. Like “I for introvert, E for extrovert” and three more dichotomies like that (peep all three of my mutuals from 16Personalities). Fair but ALSO it gets much more interesting when you bring in Jungian cognitive functions.

Basically a theory Carl Jung had that in daily life, everybody uses eight basic functions. You’ve got functions that help you make decisions, ones that help you take in information, ones that let you introspect, and ones that let you interact with your outside world. Their names bear similarity to the MBTI dichotomies (they are related). Introverted Thinking, or Ti, is the one you use when you consider facts and logic in your own head. Also, it’s classified as a Judging function, and that’s because it’s a decision-making function. Whereas Perceiving functions are those that take in information, rather than decide. 

The eight functions are Ti (introverted thinking), Te (extraverted thinking), Fi (introverted feeling), Fe (extraverted feeling), Si (introverted sensing), Se (extraverted sensing), Ni (introverted intuition), and Ne (extraverted intuition). Which ones are the four introverted functions and the four extraverted functions are in their names; you may have noticed there’s not mention of “judging” or “perceiving” yet (the J and P dichotomies in the MBTI). Ti, Te, Fi, and Fe are classified as Judging functions, since they deal with decision making (not like… you’re judging someone, more like being judicious, making decisions, you know). Si, Se, Ni, and Ne are the Perceiving functions, since they’re about perceiving information.

Okay I hope this is comprehensible.

The theory extends further than that. Out of the eight functions, there’s two you will prefer more than most and feel most in the “zone” doing. With personalities like mine, for example, you favor Ti (Introverted Thinking) most, you LIKE logic and analytical things and hard facts and frameworks, it’s just most comfortable, so that’s where your strengths lie. (Or maybe that’s not you at all, maybe your most favored function is like Extraverted Sensing, so you’re most in the zone taking in your surroundings, sensations, and what your body is doing.) Whatever it is, we call it your “dominant function”, and it can be any one of the eight. Now we need a second, or auxiliary, function. But you need one that balances your dominant function. An extraverted auxiliary function to an introverted dominant function, and a perceiving auxiliary function to a judging dominant function, for example. Balances it out. Like you’ve gotta both have some measure of introspection (introverted function) and ability to interact with your surroundings (extraverted) to be functional. Going back to the Ti example, which is introverted and judging, the auxiliary function has to be extraverted and perceiving. This leaves us with two options, Ne or Se.

You’ll notice that 8 possible dominant functions * 2 possible auxiliary function for any dominant function gives exactly 16 “types” which DO correspond exactly to the 16 MBTI types. No time in this infodump for that I’m afraid. I need to start talking about the Source, and how the characters, to me, manifest as different functions that comprise a whole.

So The Diplomat And The Counselor Kind Of Exist To Alleviate Tension But They’re Also Fundamentally Different, Why Is That

So this all kind of started from this one observation. Both exist in different mediator roles; the Diplomat is here to relieve all the interpersonal drama, the Counselor sorts out everybody’s own messiness. I also immediately recognized this as the difference between Fe and Fi. Fe, extraverted feeling, is super attuned to everybody else and their emotions and strives to create harmony. Fi, introverted feeling, is crazy introspective and constantly evaluating what they believe, how they feel, what it means about them as a person, and consequently pretty good at seeing through that for other people. From there I’m like. This is interesting. Okay cool what roles do the other Source characters play in the collective? This is also my attempt to characterize a good number of them, enjoy. Also I’m not giving any of them a full MBTI analysis here, I’m just kind of stating what I think their dominant function(?) is and how that manifests.

Fe (extraverted feeling): the Diplomat

As mentioned above, my guy is constantly trying to go for interpersonal harmony and peace. Go off.

Fi (introverted feeling): the Counselor

Also mentioned above, not only is she an introspective character (i.e. The Dream Dissolves, The Source Will Flow, lots of her monologuing to herself and sorting out who she is as a person), but she’s also able to gently connect with others and heal their hurts.

Also Fi, but kind of different: the Astronomer

Oh so what is my beloved blorbo the Astronomer doing here. What does HE have to do with emotions and stuff. Maybe it’s just that I fixate on him all too much but like. He doesn’t really do a lot you know? Like I’m sure he’s off doing Important Astronomy Things but in story he kind of acts as a vote of confidence or approval. This leaves a LOT of blank space for his personality, I am totally speculating here. I think it’s also that many of my Ayreon mutuals and I have an affinity for Blind Guardian and high fantasy and such that we’ve settled on the collective characterization of “yeah definitely an idealistic and imaginative guy too”. And guess what, Fi does a lot of that. 

I also need to clear a misconception. “Feeling types” by MBTI (like INFP, ESFJ, anything with an F in the third position) are not all sentimental, touchy, romantic kind of people. “Feeling” can also be seen as an attunement to one’s own or other’s wants, desires, hopes, so often you get people who are charismatic or very idealistic. Turning that inwards, introverted feeling, gets you a very rich inner world (i.e. imaginations) or very strong values or opinions (i.e. idealism). Everything I said about Fi being introspective and evaluating what they believe and feel still holds though. These functions are nuanced.

“Stubbornly idealistic” is kind of how I’ve settled on characterizing Astro and his motivations throughout the story, he’s really holding onto a love for space and a vision of how the world/planet should be, and this holds up best with the function Fi. It’s just that every person is different so his Fi looks different from Counselor’s Fi. I need to stop sounding so serious talking about fictional characters who hardly exist outside of one earbook I’m okay

Maybe Te (extraverted thinking), maybe Fe: the President

I fear I have not thought about this guy enough so he goes under the Maybe category. Whatever it is, he is making a lot of decisions about other things and people. Both extraverted and judging functions (Te and Fe) do that. Which one he embodies more depends on whether he’s more motivated and attuned to tangible things, efficiency, and cost, or people and their desires. I see a strong case for the latter (Fe) as he spends a lot of time apologizing to others, trying to make things right. Of course, he’s different from Diplomat in that he’s thrust into a role where he has to make a lot of decisions on behalf of others and not just mediate. It’s just that both seem very other-people-conscious in their actions.

Te (extraverted thinking): the Biologist

In any case, I think the more convincing example of extraverted thinking is the Biologist. A lot of this is fanon interpretation, but she’s typically the one who takes a lot of action, if something is discussed she’s the one who confirms and approves it. Te is a lot of logic, making decisions based off what’s most effective, what’s most optimal for everyone. It’s certainly not that they don’t care about feelings and other people, they do! - but their strengths lie in the technical decisions.

Ti (introverted thinking): the Chemist

Oh it’s he who I relate to too much for my own good, of course I had to pinpoint him as the type closest to mine. Like the Chemist, Ti introspects a lot, but more of in a detached manner. They like facts, internal logic and consistency, hence the stereotype of many of them being drawn to the sciences. That’s how I see Chemist. He NEEDS to get this formula right, he’s obsessed with Liquid Eternity and the objective, rational solution to immortality. He spends a lot of time just talking to himself, wrestling with survivor’s guilt, wondering if he’ll ever find peace, eventually just giving it up and “letting go”. It holds up - as much as Ti likes to introspect, Ti also wants everything to fit in its logical, make-sense-able place. What does one do with a big unanswerable feeling like guilt or shame? It’s uncomfortable and sticky and irrational - in unhealthy cases like the Chemist lol, just toss it out I guess.

Ne (extraverted intuition): TH-1

But he’s an android. How am I psychoanalyzing a robot by human measures. 

So intuition is all about connecting dots, picking up information that’s not already there, and it’s a perceiving function because it’s taking all that information in. Combined with extraversion, it’s outward oriented, so all about possibilities and what could be. These types also have an affinity for humor and the unconventional because those are things that are just more out there.

And yeah, TH-1 is kind of cheating, he’s a robot. But he has character of his own. He runs through all the scenarios, wired to “think” miles ahead of everyone else and scout out possibilities of survival and such. I don’t know though, there isn’t much to say beyond that, except what we know of his personality says Ne to me. And once he’s exhausted all the possibilities, when there’s no more information left to gather and synthesize, he needs a new purpose.

Ni (introverted intuition): the Prophet

Intuition. Connecting dots, information that’s there. So. Prophecy. Honestly I don’t even have a satisfactory definition of Ni. Like how do you turn a function that’s already so vague and forecasting even further inward? Look I know I just went off about “everyone uses every function, they’re necessary for doing human things”. I guess this is more about forecasting what’s going to happen next based on past events, probably something of gut feelings and subconscious rumination.

With the Prophet it’s a bit easier because he does have the plot device of Literally Having Visions, he is seeing and perceiving things that aren’t apparently there from within his own mind. Within the plot, he is the Starblade’s sense of Ni since he’s the one who goes “hey I thought about this a lot, this might and probably will happen”.

Se (extraverted sensing): the Captain

Ah. The Captain. Our beloved. Literally in what universe is he not a hyperactive and attention seeking little achiever? This seems to be the one characterization for him all across the board, and he is so so distinct and beloved. I mean it’s probably that he’s played by Tobias Sammet but whatever.

This function’s all about taking in your external senses, like what’s happening at the moment, as well as what your body is doing and muscle memory, so often skills like sports or crafts. I feel like this describes our Captain quite well. He’s flashy and flamboyant because external stimuli are fun and cool, he’s constantly achieving for the thrill of doing and also for the hell of it. He probably flies spacecraft for fun, something that involves a lot of taking in a lot of information and reacting to it at once. Makes him a good captain though, he’s a silly goober, but he can take in a lot at once and react decisively to it.

Maybe Se: the Opposition Leader. Actually probably not now that I think about it

I don’t know. OL is the other similarly active and reactionary character, as well as “OL is probably feral and very street-smart” characterizations that make him fit here well. Outspoken and far too aware of everything. But I raise you. Introverted thinking (Ti).

Our other Ti guy was Chemist, and Chemist and OL don’t seem that similar. Chemist’s penchant for logic and internal consistency leads him to Liquid Eternity. On the other hand OL sees the flaws and inconsistencies in others’ plans and the world at large, so he’s quick to criticize and point out what he immediately sees as not lining up, he needs to make it right. “But he’s far too outspoken to be introverted, what about that” (oh yeah having an introverted dominant function means introverted personality type in general, don’t know why that didn’t come up earlier). Fair, but social and outspoken extraverts do very much exist. They just need an internally motivating reason to do so.

Si (introverted sensing): the Historian

And finally, introverted sensing is the one that reflects most on the past and what was. Which is quite literally does, while he narrates, he carefully documents the details and past happenings. I don’t know what else to say here. Historian on the Starblade is just a prime example of this. Often associated with nostalgia and tradition (things past, etcetera) and processing new information in the background to get familiar with it, so characterizing Historian as fairly reserved and nostalgic would fit too.

For what it’s worth my personal headcanon is the Preacher is ISFJ, so also Si-dominant, I however have no backing behind this and should actually think about it.

There’s all the characters. Why did I write all this? If you’ll excuse me getting lost in jargon and definitions and blorbodumping, it’s that the characters of the Source fit the eight “basic” functions shockingly well. I know Arjen didn’t intend this, I know I’m overthinking, but it’s fascinating. They balance each other out, together as a team, they’re, well. Functional. As a team, they have decision-makers, people who reflect and help them move on, people attuned to emotion, people attuned to what could be and more. Of course they all have different personalities, but alll of them serve a necessary role, or else they’d probably fall into disrepair.

I'm sure there's better ways I could have explained my thought process here. This turned into full-on rambling, I don't know if any of this makes sense to anyone else. Maybe I'll rewrite this another day? Who knows

[bayetea]

3 and 4 for the ask thing? 👀

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

the most recent one I've seen was a luke fan who genuinely thinks thalia should have joined him in ttc and called her cruel and heartless and a bitch for what she did on mount tam 💀 see I consider myself a Luke Understander™ but I have such distaste for the two extremes of the fandom that are So Bad at nuanced interpretations of his character (basically the dichotomy of "luke did nothing wrong" vs. "luke was truly deeply evil and also gross towards children"). like I really appreciate what luke adds to the story and I think he's one of rick's best written characters but my god luke fans who hate on thalia gross me out :| why would thalia join him after he endangered annabeth. why would she slay the ophiotaurus when she's aware that she can't handle the power. why would she join luke and inevitably doom herself to being the vessel for kronos in his place???? anyways...

4. what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

I blocked one of the bigger valgrace posters because I'm sooo over their calypso hate. there's such a misogynistic undertone to the way they talk about her + the way they engage with the lost trio. in general I kinda think that side of the fandom has an unexamined misogyny problem - the usual fandom thing of sidelining women and girls in favor of men and m/m dynamics, and/or having higher behavioral/character writing standards for girls than they do for boys

(note: this shouldn't need to be clarified but I don't hate valgrace lol and this is not the only corner of the fandom that I think has a distinct misogyny problem. pls do not extrapolate meanings from this post that are not present, i.e. "so liking mlm is sexist?" "so you're saying ALL valgrace fans are misogynists?" because that's a very very silly takeaway from what I said and I'm not gonna argue with you 🙏)

this is sadly one of the reasons why you don't see me doing too much tlh trio posting on my own time (even though I adore them as a unit and as individuals) because I just hesitate to engage with that :/ same goes for other popular characters or ships or dynamics that I enjoy i.e. my ao3 is full of percabeth but I don't like engaging with the fandom much 💀 it's too big and so there's naturally just a higher proportion of people who are Weird and/or Annoying. the person I blocked before this was a loud percabeth stan + rachel hater because girl if you don't leave that wonderful redhead alone I stg

in general tho I tend to block people for posting a lot of character/ship hate regardless of whether or not I like/dislike said characters or ships (and I do mean hate, not evenhanded crit). everyone has their right to do whatever they want on their own blog but it's just exhausting for me to see so much negativity. I would definitely never follow someone that posts a lot of hate like that. especially woman haters 😐 because people don't know how to talk about their dislike of a woman (fictional or otherwise) without falling back on gross misogynistic language smh

(from this ask meme - feel free to ask/reblog!)

[mortish-writes]

Hello! Hope you are having a beautiful day! Adding to the ever-growing pile of opinions: I, as a bi woman of pagan faith — which is partly a result of, ahem, my escape from being raised in a *zealous* (pun only semi-intended) strict religious family — strict to the point where a boy walking me home from school was grounds enough to call me a harlot and earn me corporal punishment, — am glad that I can say F you to the organised religion as the Heretic (she's my go-to route, though I certainly played both). So thank you for allowing people to have different roleplay experiences despite the lil' sun witch having a somewhat set personality. But, correct me if I'm wrong, but I feel like Zealot\Heretic are not exactly the epithets that pertain to the faith or sex vs feelings dichotomy (because I feel like it's just diff types of romance; if anything, during a sneak peak for latest Zealot night I got a feel that for her it's easier to open her heart than her body, while for Heretic the heart is the more guarded part, and that's why she's quicker to have sex. Tho they are not at the same plotpoint yet, so what do I know... ) like some people have pointed out? I played as a very Weaver-aligned Zealot, and it kind of surprised me that she was sort of quick to show the Weaver a lot of courtesy, so I got a feeling like she needs to have a guiding star of sort, see a straight path, and that's why she's a Zealot? Kind of like a shooting arrow, which is well and good if the trajectory is right, but if it isn't... While Heretic would rather question whether the star will lead her in a right direction and would rather follow her own curiosity off track even if it is to her detriment sometimes. Sorry, I got rambly lol Also, I've a question: I noticed in the credits that the graphics are made by Mr. Mortish. Does that mean that he drew the portraits, too? That's so cool and sweet that you have such a supportive husband ❤ + a lore questerino: Does magic-magic exist in the BoS world? Like, are there wizards and sorcerers around, or does magic go no further than some innate racial abilities + the favour\curses from the gods?

Thank you, that's so kind! To answer your Zealot question, I'll start by saying that broadly speaking, a lot of us who are raised in strict religious environments tend to seek that same structure even when we leave the faith. Without that structure, we often become self-destructive because we don't know how to operate without the boundaries imposed by our faith, even if they were too restrictive. I think the biggest difference between the Zealot and the Heretic is that the Zealot is comfortable latching onto and devoting herself to The Weaver rather than falling into a crisis of faith. She already concedes that the gods are real and here is a goddess who, while not the one she was raised to believe in, clearly has powers and a vested interest in her. She's at once more confident and self-assured than the Heretic, but also recognizes she doesn't understand how to operate in the world she's been thrust into and chooses to rely on a higher power to do so.

Each has a story line that will respect her choice, rather than trying to force her into a one-size-fits-all identity. I didn't set out to write a story that was so tied up in faith, sexuality, and coming of age, but I think that's just what happens when you get a cool idea for a hot vampire menage romance and then end up spending five years drafting it.

As for your final question, there is magic, but it almost always takes the form of racial abilities or favor from gods. We'll definitely be exploring that aspect of the lore once we start venturing out into different villages.

[dailycharacteroption]

Hybrid Class Review: Slayer part 4

(art by jeffchendesigns on DeviantArt)

Thoughts

I’d like to touch back on what I said on the first part of this week’s special: That the slayer class exists as an option for an assassin-type character that is not obligated by game rules to be evil. That much is true from a historical standpoint. (Calling it historical when it was first published… 2014? Literally a decade ago, feels weird, but that’s the word for it)

But the very fact that such a thing was deemed necessary was probably a sign that Pathfinder was already straining under the constraints of the assumptions of 3.5 and indeed previous editions of D&D that came before it. From a purely surface-level understanding, it made sense that monks had to be lawful, and that barbarians had to be non-lawful, because that’s the kind of dichotomies that were built into the game. Heck, even 3.5 had “favored class” mean one specific class that every member of an ancestry was good at and therefore could multiclass into without problem, punishing every other possible multiclass combination. (This of course was part of the same biological determinism rampant in past editions, the things that made it laughable to even consider orcs or drow being anything other than villains).

To its credit, the alignment system did work in service of the idea of simplicity compared to the real world. There were good guys and bad guys, and barring any deceptions it was easy to tell who was who, and the added complexity of a lawful or chaotic component, as well as neutrality on any of those fronts served as decent basic guidelines for how the character was supposed to act, though in practice it often flattened their motivations and the player’s interpretations of them, to say nothing of the component that personal interpretation of what each alignment means plays in it.

But now alignment is being done away with in both games, replaced by more personalized values and ideals to determine a character’s personality and goals. A villain with good intentions with bad methods need not have the entire story go off the rails because the paladin detected evil early and realized they were a bad guy immediately. Meanwhile, actually circling back to this week’s topic, an assassin, whether they kill for money or for some ideological reason can be judged by their behavior instead of what a chart and magical ability to sense auras says.

And… that’s why I don’t think slayer is ever getting redone for 2nd edition. It’s not needed with the assassin being now an archetype that anyone can take regardless of morality.

On that note, while some slayers specialize in taking their marks alive, their intended purpose is baked into the name. Obviously since Pathfinder is a game, applying morality to the actions taken through fictional characters is ultimately a farce. None of it’s real.

However, exploring the morality of killing people, even if they deserve it (or at least, the character thinks so) can make for interesting storytelling. Do they view the act as a casual thing? Do they think some people truly deserve to die? Do they find any act of death, even ones in self-defense or the defense of others to be monstrous even as they are necessary? Food for thought.

I’ve probably been rambling a bit with today’s entry, but I hope that it makes even some modicum of sense. That’s it for today, tomorrow we conclude things and actually talk a bit about the class we’ve been reviewing. See you then.

[mynonclicheblog]

One final Never Have I Ever love triangle thematic analysis

I've said this in one of my posts before, but the narrative is always going to favor what is best for Devi. A lot of what makes this show so juicy to dive into is because so much of its meaning is rooted in symbolism and higher concepts, not just the individual interactions you're looking at onscreen!

I think that's what doesn't work for some (not all) pro-Dxton anti-Ben folks. They see Paxton being respectful and kind to Devi, they see that he's the attractive object of her desire from day 1, and they see that the two of them genuinely do connect and help each other in certain ways. But when these same people look at Benvi, they only see Ben making obnoxious comments to Devi (+ others), they see childish behavior and mistakes being made, and they see them frequently butting heads due to their shared competitive nature.

And honestly? I get it. These conclusions are easy to come to when you're looking at the surface, but they don't take into account the full story that's being told.

Let's get into it. 😎👇

So I mentioned the idea of what is best for Devi. Not what is best for any regular person out there -- what is best for Devi Vishwakumar. Our girl expresses in no uncertain terms that she enjoys her hypercompetitive rivalry-turned-bond with Ben ("Ben's smart and we talk- mostly argue- for hours!" // "I don't want to break up with Ben. He really pushes me.") The fact that they fight and compete is not a detriment to their compatibility, it is actually the thing that makes him most desirable in her mind. She would not have wanted to be with him in the first place if this were not true. Their sharp-tongued communication style may not be the standard picture of a 'healthy' relationship for most people, but, well. Devi and Ben are far from most people.

Devi is an incredibly emotional, dynamic person who's always searching for another high. The competitive nature of her relationship with Ben is enough to satisfy her itch for novelty/excitement (her differences with Paxton don't hit this box), yet Ben's presence also provides a comforting long-term consistency in her life. He's seen the very best and the very worst of her and he always comes back. He frequently brings Devi back to herself, too, when she loses sight of what matters (friendships, family, sense of self, her goals, etc).

Then there's the dream vs. reality dichotomy that very much applies to this love triangle. Simple as it may be, it's accurate. I believe it was built that way on purpose because of how well it reflects Devi's relationships to Mohan and Nalini, which is the beating heart of what NHIE is all about. One (Mo/Pax) is more outwardly palatable than the other and provides an easygoing, self-soothing escapism that she needs in order to work through her grief. This person represents youth and the rose-colored past; Devi's tendency to idealize and indulge. The other person (Nal/Ben) is sharper around the edges, a bit harder to swallow, but pushes Devi to do better and supplies the support she needs. This person represents Devi's grounded reality; her time in the present and the woman she is growing into.

They are both important pieces in Devi's journey, but the themes of past vs present speak for themselves. The past is something we keep close to our heart- in this case, it's someone who has impacted us that we'll always carry with us. But the ultimate goal is to move forward from that. The central relationship of Never Have I Ever, in my opinion, is that of Devi & Nalini as they heal and grow together. In terms of Devi's romantic life, her relationship with Ben is the one that most closely shadows the series arc between her & Nalini.

I'd like to address some things by the individual season now. One of my observations watching s1 for the first time was that Paxton was usually aligned with bad things in Devi's life, whereas Ben was aligned with the good. e.g., Paxton was in some way the source of Devi's falling outs with El/Fab and Nalini; Ben is the one who repaired those relationships. These things aren't Paxton's fault, nor do I place any blame on him. They're just subtle narrative choices that send up unspoken flags saying, hey look, maybe he isn't the right fit for her. This theme was left behind in s1 for the most part, but given that it was NHIE's debut season, it planted several seeds for me about who the boys were for Devi and how they fit into her world.

Season 2 does a lot to sort out the difference in what Devi thinks she wants (Paxton) and what her heart truly wants (Ben). Yes, I'm going there, too: head vs heart. Devi's underlying preference for Ben > Paxton should be easy to spot as early as 2x01 -- if only for the fact that Devi finally bagged the hot guy of her dreams, and yet choosing to be with him isn't easy for her. In fact, as both Devi and Eleanor confirm later, she wanted to choose Ben in the first place. Like... that's crazy when you think about it!! Despite the pieces falling into place for her and Paxton, and against her friends' shallow advice, she decides that she won't let go of Ben. Instead she makes the misguided decision to date both. This isn't the kind of mistake she'll ever make again. It isn't Devi acting out because of Ben -- it signals a profound attachment to him when, all things considered, picking Paxton here should have been a no brainer. That revealed everything I needed to know in order to understand that Paxton wasn't who she wanted in her heart of hearts.

Then, of course, 3x10 brings that all home with the stomach knots comparison. It tells us that ever since Devi and Paxton moved into a place of genuine friendship, with him no longer on a pedestal, those romantic feelings have dissipated. As a bonus, Devi even explicitly states that Paxton was a dream! Ben, however -- her flawed reality -- is the one who still gives her butterflies. This is the result of Devi's slow awakening to her true inner self, the Devi who values growth and authenticity and loving through imperfection. It's a step closer to the complete acceptance of herself. (Notice as well that right after this point, it becomes clearer than ever that Ben is who she wants to be with.)

As long as Paxton was a romantic possibility for Devi, their relationship was tied to her feelings of insecurity and inferiority. Again this is not Paxton's fault -- he assures her of the opposite all the time -- but this is Devi's story, and we are shown over and over that Devi fears true vulnerability with Paxton (both sexually and emotionally). Compare this to the way she has always felt confident, seen, driven, and unabashedly herself in her relationship with Ben, even when they were enemies. At a glance Devi may appear to act more immature in Ben's orbit, but the truth is that she grows with him more than anyone else (besides Nalini) thanks to Ben's penchant for encouraging accountability and showing her that actions can have consequences.

Anyway, TLDR version:

Paxton = Devi's youth, Mohan, grief, distraction, the past, idealism, and the head (constructed ideas).

Ben = Devi's future, Nalini, healing, confrontation, the present, reality, and the heart (authentic truths).

Never Have I Ever's romantic story structure rests on the premise of these symbolic definitions. They are gospel, and while the characters will grow and change and become better versions of themselves, they will do so within the lines that are already drawn. The lines exist for a reason -- they are a narrative tool! These characters cannot and should not 'grow out' of their roles because those roles are their identities within the show's framework. The characters are exactly who they are meant to be right through to the end. They are symbols. If that's not your cup of tea then so be it! But there's nothing wrong with this writing style. In fact it's one of my personal favorites because everything is so neatly defined, yet fascinating to read into 🥰

The imperfect Ben had to be Devi's true love because her love interests are, in a way, reflections of herself. By no fault of his own, Devi always felt the need to be "perfect" for Paxton because that's how she viewed him; a false paragon of everything she wanted to be. That is the point of their story together. Her acceptance of the deep love she has for Ben (and Nalini!), despite his sometimes off-putting demeanor, is aligned with Devi's acceptance of her own imperfections -- that she is hot-headed, she can be self-absorbed, she acts without thinking and makes mistakes -- but that she is also brilliant and driven and caring and radiant, and she is equally worthy of receiving the love that she has to offer others.

Narratively speaking, it was never truly a competition.

[aeithalian]

As promised: Leto, Zeus, and parenting

I'M SORRY i know i said i'd get around to this two weeks ago but life got crazy but anyways HERE WE GO

I'm not the first to say this: we know virtually nothing about Leto and her parenting style. She makes a total of one appearance, is mentioned a couple times (mostly in the context of re-explaining Python's relevancy), and is only mentioned by another character besides Apollo once in the entire Riordanverse. For being the mother of one of the main characters, she is frustratingly underutilized as a character.

Yippee.

But, of course, I am going to dredge up every single reference to her parenting and personality as possible and determine just what kind of person and parent she is. Because here's my theory:

Apollo, while he is under expectations to be more like either Zeus or the other gods in terms of his parenting, probably takes more after Leto. So I think that if we can parse out Leto's personality and combine it with what we know of how Apollo parents, it gives us a good clue as to how Apollo and Artemis were raised.

First things first. Leto. Here's a list of things we know about her (aside from what happens in the myths):

Koios (her father) believes she would fight against Zeus due to the way he treated her after the twins were born (THoH)

Koios also considers her as one of the more peaceful Titans (THoH)

Leto seems to have an established life in a Florida condo (raising the question if she ever actually needed to reform or wasn't banished to Tartarus like the other Titans) (TDP)

Zeus and Leto used to have a much better relationship! (eg. the duet Apollo remembers them singing when he was a baby) (TDP)

Apollo writes a song for her every Mother's day (like the good momma's boy he is) (TDP)

Leto is willing to literally grovel in front of Zeus to save Apollo from his punishment (TDP)

Apollo (in a moment of mental haziness) can remember the impressions of Zeus and Artemis in his memory, but not Leto (TBM)

When calling to his godly family for help, Leto is the third (and last) person Apollo thinks of. Zeus is the first. (TON)

There's more to be said on the dichotomy between how Koios and Apollo perceive her, as well as Rick's nonexistent timeline skills, but that's pretty much all we know about her. That, and while she never had a traditional domain before the twins were born, she was later worshipped as a goddess of motherhood due to the large scope of influence her children had.

In summary, Leto:

Has a lot of reason to be angry with Zeus, but puts those feelings aside out of love for her children (and possibly because she remembers having that positive relationship with Zeus)

Is considered to be peaceful, but might not be (she might have condoned the murder of Niobe's children, among other stories). Regardless, she's considered gentle (by Hesiod, namely 👀 iykyk), and is one of the most celebrated mother figures in Ancient Greece aside from Demeter

Has a more distant relationship with her children for some reason (maybe the fact that she is a Titan and has lost favor with the gods, but based on how little Apollo mentions her compared to Zeus, he might not see her a lot)

We've never really met Leto, but based on this limited information, I think we can safely say that her personality probably includes traits such as gentleness, forgiveness, and responsiveness.

So, what does this tell us about how Apollo parents? Nothing, yet. So let's move on to Zeus.

NOBODY is surprised when I say this: Zeus sucks.

According to Apollo, Zeus very heavily utilizes what is called in psychology positive punishment, where a (typically unpleasant) stimulus is introduced in order to decrease a certain behavior that is seen by the punisher as undesirable. This is apparent every time Apollo talks about feeling the pain of Zeus' lightning bolts, or even when he compares Zeus to Nero and his Beast (the Beast being the stimulus that is introduced to keep Meg from rebelling).

Interestingly, the entirety of the ToA series and turning Apollo mortal could fall under the definition of negative punishment, where a stimulus (in this case, Apollo's godhood) is removed to decrease an undesirable behavior. However, turning Apollo mortal is still an introduction of a stimulus: pain.

See the similarities? Tangent aside, this is how Zeus parents. Restriction, then giving pain when the rules are broken, which then creates fear around those restrictions.

Let's give these firm definitions. Traditional psychology gives us four main parenting styles built around variances in how responsive and demanding a parent is. Take the image below:

Zeus is the easy one here: Authoritarian. I feel like we don't even need to discuss any further, he's quite literally a textbook definition. As king of the gods, he can't be responsive to everyone, but must demand much from his all-powerful subjects. The problem is that it bleeds into his parenting too much. He's ruling his children.

Leto is harder. Mostly because we just don't know enough about her, but I like to think she's got a higher level of responsiveness. Those types of parents are usually warmer, which goes along with Apollo's account of her and what we know from the myths about her gentle demeanor. So that narrows it down a bit, but her level of demandingness is harder to pin down. That's the issue when your children are immortal - you don't demand much from a child who is more powerful than you and matures fully within a week. I think Leto may lie somewhere in the middle of authoritative and permissive, but let's give her the benefit of the doubt. If she's the Titaness of motherhood, let's assume she's a great mom and say she's Authoritative.

Don't forget those, we'll come back to that.

The thing about parenting is that it's passed down from generations. We raise our children the way our parents raised us. That's why we call them "cycles" of abuse - because it keeps happening. That being said, I'm fairly confident that Apollo takes after Leto when it comes to parenting, because we see that he's already broken the cycle - even before we spent five books with Apollo, he's never outright harmed one of his own children the way we know Zeus did to him. So if he's not following Zeus' example, he's probably mimicking Leto's. Which then means he probably takes after her personality a bit, too, which was characterized by being gentle, forgiving, and responsive.

I don't know about you, but feels just like the Apollo we know.

Going back to the four parenting styles, you might be ready to call Apollo the Authoritative parent because it's the same as Leto's and call it a day. That's the point I was making, no? Wrong!

Yes, the ideal Apollo would be Authoritative. But, you know, we see him interact with his children, and he's just... not? What I think is that Apollo has gone through (or will go through) all four.

Authoritarian - This would be the first one he tries, because he might feel like he has to be like Zeus. There's one example of this with Koronis (yes, not really an example of parenting, but personality-wise, it's very Zeus-y), where he has Artemis kill her as a punishment for cheating. The story continues, blah blah blah, he fails to heal her but saves Asclepius by performing the first C-section. But I think that this is the moment where he choses to not be that kind of father. He gives Asclepius to Chiron as one of his first students, and from what we know of Apollo and Asclepius' relationship, it's good! Asclepius calls him "Dad" in BoO and wishes him the best - but it's still distant, in a sense. The apple fell pretty far from the tree, because acting like that, especially with the inner knowledge we have of Apollo from five books of content, never indicates Apollo being demanding and simultaneously lacking in any kind of responsiveness. So, in conclusion, Apollo has never consistently been Authoritarian, and being as such is in direct contradiction to his personality.

Uninvolved - This is what the gods (aside from Zeus, as king) are supposed to be, especially with their mortal children. If Apollo cannot be like his father, then he might as well try and be like all the other gods: being neither demanding nor responsive. We get hints of this with the Trophonius story - Trophonius' greed becomes his downfall, and Apollo does not intervene when called upon. Even without knowing what their relationship looked like before Agamethus died, it's pretty obvious that Apollo was absent on most accounts. We also see this example with other gods and their children - Poseidon and Percy, for one. Poseidon is never there, because this is what is expected and enforced by Zeus. Zeus, also, skews towards being Uninvolved with his mortal children - Jason met him once, people. But, again, this is pretty unlike Apollo to be able to maintain - he's simply too naturally responsive and empathetic to conform to this standard, and he confesses to the audience that he feels guilt around Trophonius' fate, indicating that being an Uninvolved parent was not something he found comfort and ease in.

Permissive - I believe that Apollo is most comfortable as a Permissive parent. But this goes along with something that I've always believed: Apollo doesn't necessarily parent his kids. I don't think many gods do (this goes along with another meta I want to do on godly maturity and how it relates to parenting, but I digress). Apollo is lacking in being demanding enough to properly parent his kids, but he makes up for it in overwhelming responsiveness. We know he's highly aware of other's needs, we see this a lot with his relationship with Meg, and this is something that he finds easy. He's sensitive and empathetic towards everyone, especially his own children, and (in the later books) has a great sense of what to say and when in order to get people to open up. But that lack of demanding is still there, and I think this is interesting for several reasons. It makes me wonder if Apollo does not demand from his children because he feels like he has not yet earned the right to. If it were me, and I had the face and body of a person the same age as my children, I would find it difficult to be the more mature person, too. But even at the end of the series, it doesn't look like he's making any moves towards being more demanding: when Rachel gives the prophecy to Will and Nico, he steps back into the Permissive parent role and indulges Will in what ends up being an incredibly dangerous quest to Tartarus (side note: this is one of the several reasons I found TSatS disappointing, because there are so many stones left unturned with how the premise could have allowed both Apollo and Will to realize that Apollo being a Permissive parent is not what Will needs). Yes, Permissive parents aren't bad parents, but especially with demigod kids who lack in proper parental figures that aren't Chiron, they might not necessarily be good parents either.

Authoritative - This is what Apollo has the potential to become, but it's going to take a huge wakeup call. The entirety of the ToA series is about Apollo learning that the way the gods have been doing things is not something he has to adhere to, and that he's allowed to utilize his natural instincts from Leto to be responsive. But being demanding is a whole new can of worms: Zeus is the only one who seems to be allowed to be demanding, but he does it without the responsiveness that makes it healthy. I think Apollo has yet to learn this - that you can demand from your kids and still be a good parent.

I wish there was more I could add. Artemis is a whole new rabbit hole that I'd love to go down, but alas, we know even less about her parenting styles because, well, she doesn't really have kids. Oops.

Alas, that's all I've got. The promised meta about Hermes and Apollo's relationship is coming soon!

Here's a masterlist of my other metas

[crooked-wasteland]

Hazbin Hotel Live Blog: Overture

. While I am being kind to the show as it is, I cannot push out of my mind the fact that this is still Vivienne Medrano, and while this seems to be an interesting direction the series is considering to take the story, I am lacking any intrigue. Medrano has a knack for interesting ideas, but once executed are often trimmed down from all nuance and then played in the most straight forward and storybook fashion.

Evil existed before and separate from Lucifer

Eve is linked to the root of evil through the animation

Dichotomy of Lilith and Lucifer

Why does Heaven think Hell will rise up?

Charlie is reading the storybook to herself. Aloud. And the reason is because she’s like a child seeking comfort. Also Charlie’s delivery of “Pretty worked up” is just feeling off. Like isn’t this supposed to be a somber moment? Why is it delivered so chipper? The pilot had her crying and singing a lamentation. Downgrade.

Info dump dialogue

“This kingdom was something she really cared about.”

Vaggie’s voice is such a downgrade. She sounds so uninterested.

“Daddy issues by fixing you” So alastor knows about Charlie’s family situation already.

The lineart around Alastor is so distracting. It’s so bizarrely thick.

I wish there was no dialogue

Her dad calls her but she is supposed to have a strained relationship.

I feel like Medrano doesn’t know what Angel Dust is. As in the actual drug. PCP is not Cocaine.

That was the worst segue into a song I ever saw.

“If you dont mind the smell, it’s a happy day in hell.” I hate this line.

Vaggie just never sounds right, does she? Her singing is so nasal dominate it doesn’t sound like her throaty modal voice.

What was the contract? What did it say? Why even have Charlie sign anything if we have no concept of what that is? It is such a rip off from Ariel’s contract in the Little Mermaid that it feels more like an Easter egg than relevant to the story actively being told. You need to show why the actions happening are taking place, you cant just do things and expect us to pick up the pieces for you. Are you trying to get across that Heaven is full of bureaucracy and paperwork? There is no receptionist and no other person in the building until she signs ONE paper. You failed at portraying an overabundance of bureaucratic red tape and it is distracting and infuriating. All I see are the better DISNEY MOVIES that were clearly just plagiarized. Not an homage, not inspired. Plagiarized.

Lucifer calls Charlie to meet Adam. Adam says he knows. So this doesn’t feel like this is Charlie filling in, the way the dialogue is written is that it was specifically planned for Charlie to meet Adam.

Everything has a gradient.

I bet $15 that the Dickmaster portion of Adam’s dialogue was Alex Brightman’s improv. I was not impressed by his Kaiju Dick improv in Oops and this is just as flaccid. Pun intended.

There is a clear discccrepency in talent between Alex and Erika. He has such a smoother voice and range while Erika feels like a Disney understudy where every delivery is pretty much identical to the last. Like the songs themselves are not doing her any favors. They range from bad to mediocre, and even in the better songs, there is always one horrifically bad lyric that just ruins the entire experience.

I like Lute. She feels like Peridot.

RIP Katie Killjoy.

Nifty is cute. The joke for her had a lot of potential of being hilarious but didn’t meet my threshold of comedy due to lacking a feel for Nifty. Imagine if she was in every scene with Vaggie talking her head off and never shutting up. Then when Vaggie is like, “If anyone can sell this hotel, it’s Nifty.” And we had this foundation that Nifty is known for being a huge chatterbox only to then be dead silent when the camera is on her. It would have been hilarious. But we see her once and she has one singular line previous. So it just feels like a cheap visual gag.

As a musical, it is lackluster. I see that Evil is something separate from Lucifer and something he dislikes. Lucifer is said to see free will as a spring of creativity, but humans used it to suck and that killed Lucifer’s love of life. In the meantime, Lilith is empowered by Hell. Hell fuels her sense of freedom, which she spreads through her “songs”. Only for her to just vanish I guess. She just hopes out without a word, Charlie says she must be doing something important over the last 7 years, but no inclination on what important things Lilith would be doing. Additionally, Lilith is said to have loved Hell, like Charlie. So it sets up this idea that Lucifer dislikes Hell or even hates it, while Lilith revels in it. Alluding to their marriage falling apart from this dissonance. At the same time, Lucifer calls Charlie to meet with Heaven, despite the pilot being canon. So we get the impression that Charlie and Lucifer had a falling out (“Maybe dad was right.”) but she doesn’t have much more than surprise at her father calling. Then he just sets up this meeting for her to meet with Adam off screen entirely. It is unclear how this was conveyed, but Lucifer doesn’t believe in Charlie and her meeting Adam has nothing at all to do with her hotel.

But the way Adam talks about the meeting is unusual in that it gives the impression that it wasn’t about Charlie “filling in”, but that this whole meeting was specifically set for Charlie and Adam. This is compounded by how the ending reads like they didn’t know if the angel was dead until that moment. So the extermination being moved up has nothing to do with the angel’s death. Maybe I’m wrong, but this all feels really disjointed.

But Lute really is just Peridot. So much so that when asked what I liked about the episode, I literally said “Peridot”, not Lute. The one good aspect of this episode is another stolen concept from a better show with a more competent creator. But I also like Alex Brightman’s singing. He is very talented and he does elevate the material by really playing with his delivery, but it’s still at best Mid due to the weak lyrics,

3/10

[tinysnailtales]

Yona of the Dawn Chapter 13

Fate

And so the larger fate and more of the world's backstory is revealed.

Darkness falls upon the Great Earth Through the Blood of the Dragons, a Revival comes again Bound by the covenant of old when the Four Dragons assemble the Sword and Shield that Protect the Monarch shall awaken and the Red Dragon shall return at Dawn

Post prophecy, Yona and Ik-Soo provide a little bit of an unnatural exposition dump in their telling of the legend of the Crimson Dragon God and the Four Dragon Warriors. But the exposition is not boring or overwhelming, and it does more than just provide background information.

With the history of the priests, Yona was the stand-in for the reader, her ignorance serving as a vehicle for us to learn alongside her while also serving her character and growth. Here–interestingly, though Yona was ignorant of her nation's history, she knows and instantly recognizes the legend of the Crimson Dragon God because her father used to tell it to her. He sheltered her from knowledge of most things, producing her ignorance, but he instilled myths in her. One has to wonder why!

The language used to tell the tale also has a clear bias–the Crimson Dragon King had to go against humans because "evil filled people's hearts. [And they] turned away from the gods" forgetting "faith, love, and [the Crimson Dragon's] teachings" causing "the nation [to fall] into ruin." Whoever taught Yona and Ik-Soo the legend thought highly of the gods and less highly of humans. Kusanagi is utilizing exposition effectively, even if it can be a little heavy-handed and info-dump-y.

The legend of the Crimson Dragon also uncovers more about the world's religion. The Crimson Dragon was a god. The other four dragons are presented differently but are also gods? It is a little confusing whether or not the mythology involves one or multiple gods, but it seems the Crimson Dragon was positioned higher than the others. With the prophecy and everything, the "legend" is positioned not as myth but as historical fact, and the contents of the legend itself feed into the themes of gods vs. humans and fate vs. free will. Not to mention, it introduces the main plot and the concept of the dragon warriors.

"You must serve the Crimson Dragon. You must protect and love him all the days of your lives and never betray him"

I think the legend also provides some direction for where the exploration of the established themes will go. With the story itself involving a god becoming human and others giving their powers to humans, there is a union of gods and humans, perhaps suggesting a need for the balance of both. When the Crimson Dragon dies, this question is posed: "Did [the dragon warriors] weep for the loss of someone so dear to them? Or was the blood of the dragon gods within them grieving the death...?" There is a blurring of the lines here, a challenge of a dichotomy.

Ik-Soo challenges that dichotomy further. (And provides what I think is a satisfactory in-universe explanation for how the hell Yona (and Hak) have survived up until this point, especially with the fall off the cliff–it's fate with a dash of dragon god magic!)

"You miraculously evaded death on that horrible night. You miraculously escaped from the palace. You fell off a cliff...and miraculously survived. 'Miraculous' is no longer the right word. It was fate that led you here. That's what I truly believe. If you find the four legendary dragons...it won't be because of your personal difficulties...but because it is fate. But heaven can only show you the path. You must choose to walk it."

The Crimson Dragon King and the dragon warriors connected humans and gods and now Yona will connect fate and free will. And as the Crimson Dragon and the warriors crossed that line, Yona too will bring together humans and gods. While she first rejected any path the gods set for her in favor of her own goals, she now embraces that path as a means to accomplish those goals.

"I hate the thought of dying from something I could have avoided...but losing you (Hak) would be even worse. I'll do whatever it takes to keep that from happening. Even if I have to acquire a god's power."

This positions Soo-Won and Yona against each other even more, with him completely rejecting the gods in favor of humans. But Yona is not positioned as his complete opposite, but perhaps as someone who will recognize the need for balance and the use of both sides.

This is also clear in her (awesome) declaration of "I want to do whatever it takes to move forward. I want to be stronger! Teach me how to use a sword or a bow. I'll master it." Her dedication to growing and developing skills as an individual is admirable and a continued thread. She wants to learn and improve herself, and in spite of being willing to utilize others, does not want to solely rely on them or be a burden. It's a bit like she wishes not to be above a group of people but a part of it, which also feels like a distinction from Soo-Won and how he values the throne.

(Maybe maybe there's more to say on this when it comes to why people follow Yona vs. why people follow Soo-Won but! that's getting ahead of myself and I don't think it's as simple as following a person vs. position for either of them. There's actually some overlap for both...)

Hak is of course all for everything she says: "If that's your will...then let's gamble on fate." Basically proclaiming that he will follow her to the ends of the earth. (And what does his former/current position as a bodyguard and his obedience say about free will when taken alongside his feelings? How does his path reflect the idea of "You must serve the Crimson Dragon. You must protect and love him all the days of your lives and never betray him"?)

The chapter ends in a way that solidifies the ideas explored. Yoon helps Yona fix her hair into a proper haircut, showcasing Yona taking some control of her destiny, circumstances, and transformation. Ik-Soo wants Yona to take Yoon with her and Hak, but she further emphasizes free will by saying she can't "unless he wants to come." She also doesn't want to "tear a family apart," which shows the continued impact of her father and his death and how it has affected her values.

Her recognition of Yoon's kindness, in spite of how he has talked to her, demonstrates her ability to see the good in people. She is also wonderfully refreshing in how though she acknowledges Yoon's kindness and how Ik-Soo is "easy to love"–she doesn't hesitate to be brutally honest and tell Ik-Soo that Yoon is rude and Ik-Soo is "unreliable, [cries] too easily, and [is] too carefree."

More of Yoon continues to be revealed through his words and actions, including how he fits in with Hak and Yona–how like Hak he pretends not to care about things and like Yona he was cut off from the world and sheltered in his own way and now craves knowledge. What knowledge and abilities he does possess are also clearly skills that would be helpful to Hak and Yona on the road. You could argue Yoon has too many skills, but his reasons for acquiring them make sense and he has his faults as well.