𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗲

Eren keeps you distracted, playing with your tits and twirling the hair of your bush. "Eren, touch me. Please," you beg her without thinking, you want to press your thighs together for some sort of pleasure, but Eren keeps you lock in your place.

"Ah-ah. Mikasa is doing all the work today, be nice to her." She pats your mound, riiiight above your clit and makes you whimper, your head falling on her shoulder.

Now Mikasa comes out of the bathroom, with a decent sized strap hanging between her legs. She doesn't look at any of you as she climbs in the bed.

"Is... is this okay?" she asks, lowering her face to your open pussy.

"It's more than okay, right baby?" Eren answers for you, finally touching you to spread your folds for Mikasa. You nod, eyeing the pink strap as Mikasa gets closer.

"I-I don't know how to do this," Mikasa mutters, touching your thighs to keep you open.

"That's why she's here, to help you learn," Eren reminds her. "Feel how wet she is, baby, she's gonna swallow your cock good."

Eren runs her fingers up and down your folds, gathering enough wetness that a string of your juices keeps connecting them even after she lifts her fingers from your pussy. She brings them to her own mouth, sucking them and swirling her tongue around them with an obscene sound.

"C'mon, she's waiting," Eren reminds her, patting your thigh.

Mikasa nods with a little whimper, coating her strap with your wetness and leaning down. Up close you can see how red she is. "Tell me if it hurts, please."

"Easy, Mika," Eren whispers. She keeps one arm wrapped around your waist, her other hand slides down, gentle fingers wrapping around the base of the strap to help guide it. "She's so wet for you already, feel that?"

You whimper as the thick head pushes past your folds, stretching you open inch by inch. It's not too big, but the way Mikasa's eyes widen when she sinks in makes your belly flutter.

"Oh… it's so warm," she breathes, her hips twitching forward without meaning to. She bottoms out with a little gasp, like she can actually feel you clenching around her.

"Fuck… Mikasa," you whine, your head tipping back against Eren's shoulder. Your hands grab at the sheets, thighs trembling in her hold.

Eren chuckles low, kissing the side of your neck. "Good girl. Look at her, baby. She's taking you so well." She nips at your ear, then speaks to Mikasa again, soft and patient. "Now don't pull out all the way, just grind in deep. Yeah, like that. Feel how she squeezes? That's how you know she's loving it."

Mikasa nods quickly, biting her lip as she starts to move. Her thrusts are shy at first, a little clumsy, but every time you let out a whimper she gets bolder. The strap drags against that perfect spot inside you and your back arches, a needy sound spilling from your throat.

"P-please ahh… more," you beg, voice already broken.

"You're doing amazing, Mika," Eren praises, one hand coming up to cup Mikasa's breast and give it a gentle squeeze. That makes Mikasa moan softly, her hips snapping forward a little harder. She leans down over you, pretty face flushed, dark hair falling around her shoulders. Her tits brush against your chest with every thrust and she looks lost in it.

Eren keeps guiding her, whispering instructions right by your ear so you both hear. "Rub against her clit when you go in. She's getting so loud for you, hear that?"

And you are. Whining and whimpering with every roll of Mikasa's hips, your pussy fluttering around the strap as pleasure builds hot and fast in your core. Mikasa's breathing hard above you, little gasps escaping her each time she buries herself inside.

"You feel so good," she mumbles to herself, eyes half-lidded. "I-I can feel you… you're pulsing around me."

"Fuck, wait I'm close," you warn them, even thought you know damn well neither of them is going to slow down

Eren smiles against your skin, her fingers finally dipping down to circle your clit in tight little strokes. "Let her use you, baby. Cum all over her cock."

The combination is too much. Mikasa's steady thrusts, Eren's perfect touches, the way they both watch you falling apart between them. Your whole body tightens, thighs shaking as you cry out. Pleasure crashes over you hard, your orgasm ripping through you so intense you squirt around the strap, soaking Mikasa's hips and the sheets beneath you.

Mikasa gasps, eyes wide with awe. "Oh my god, you… you did that because of me?" She sounds so happy, so proud, even as her own thighs tremble.

"Y-yeah. You fucked me so good, Mika."

Eren laughs softly, kissing your temple while you pant and shiver in her arms. "Our good girl. You did so well for us, Mika. Both of you."

“You want to?” He kisses your lips once more before breaking contact, looking you in the eyes while you nod. “Then sure, let’s go for a drink.”

But one drink became two, then three, then you met a group of people that wanted to invite you for shots. Then you’re taking body shots of Caesar’s abs and suddenly someone suggests going to the Burlesque down the street, the only one in town. And your drunk self thought it was the best idea ever.

“Nghh, do we really have to go?” Caesar slurred, grabbing you by the waist as you walked in the street. “The only woman I wanna see naked is… you!”

He tries to boop your nose. “Ow! Caesar, that’s my eye!”

He’s giggling now, pressing a long kiss to the top of your head. “Sorry.”

You and Caesar stumble into the Burlesque club, the bass thumping through your bodies, Caesar’s arm is slung heavy around your waist, his breath warm against your ear as he laughs at something silly you said outside. 

“See? This is fun,” you tease, pulling him closer to a spot near the front. “Way better than another movie night.”

He just grins and presses a quick kiss to your temple. “Only because you’re here, bella.”

You both find seats at a sticky table, ordering another round of drinks that you probably don’t need. The crowd cheers as the next performer is announced, and the lights shift to a sultry red glow. Then he steps out.

Joseph Joestar.

Your best friend Joseph, in a tight body suit and star-shaped nipple covers that show way too much of his muscular chest he’s always bragging about. He’s owning the stage, hips rolling, arms flexing in smooth motions that scream he’s done this a lot. 

Your mouth drops open. Caesar freezes beside you, his hand still on your thigh.

For a second Joseph spinning and dipping like it’s nothing. But then his eyes scan the crowd and land right on you two. His face goes bright red, eyes wide in embarrassment. He misses a step, nearly trips over his own feet and the smooth dance turns into something awkward and rushed. The crowd still claps, but Joseph bolts off the stage early, muttering something under his breath as the lights follow him off.

You and Caesar just sit there, dumbfounded. The music keeps going, another dancer taking the spotlight, but neither of you can look away from the side door where Joseph disappeared.

“Did... did we imagine that?” you whisper, turning to Caesar. Your heart is hammering from the drinks and the shock.

Caesar’s mouth is still half-open, his pretty blue eyes blinking slowly. “That was Joseph, right?” He rubs a hand over his face, trying to hide a laugh but failing. “He looked good.”

You can’t help it, you start giggling too, the alcohol making everything funnier. “Yeah, he did.”

Joseph’s been “working late” for months and now it all makes sense. No wonder he’s been dodging questions about his job.

Before you can decide what to do, Joseph peeks back out from the side of the stage, now with a hoodie thrown over his dance clothes. He spots you and turns even redder when you make eye contact with him. He hides again.

He paces in the backstage, going a bit insane not only because of the embarrassment (gosh, he doesn’t even want to think about the jokes) but because it was you and Caesar of all people. You and Caesar. For you two, you are best friends. For him, you are the people he dreams about, kissing and giggling together. But now that you saw him like that? There’s no way you’re gonna find him attractive anymore.

You and Caesar take a moment to react

“We should go to him, right?” you say in a breath. 

Caesar nods hard. “Fuck, yes. We can’t just leave him like this.”

You weave through the crowd together and manage to get inside the hallway of the dressing rooms, you knock twice in the door another dancer told you that Joseph was. He opens the door after a second and just starts talking with you two still at the door.

“Guys... I... uh...” He scratches the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes. “This isn’t what it looks like! Well, it is, but crap, I needed the cash, okay? Don’t tell anyone, please”

You bite your lip because he looks so damn cute right now. “Can we come in?”

Joseph furrows his eyebrows then nods, opening the door wider and letting you inside, closing it.

Caesar stares at him. “Joseph, you were actually good up there. Until you saw us.”

Joseph groans, burying his face in his hands. “Shut up, Caesar! This is so humiliating. Why are you even here?”

You swallow, heart racing for a whole new reason now. “We, um... just wanted a fun night out. We didn’t expect to find you here of all places.”

Joseph looks so small under that hoodie, shoulders hunched, cheeks flushed dark red. His usual loud confidence is gone, replaced by a sort of vulnerability that makes your chest ache. He keeps glancing at the floor, wishing it would open up and drop him straight to the center of the earth.

“Hey, JoJo,” you say softly, stepping closer. “Now that your secret’s out... we can tell you one of ours. Make it even, right? It’s kinda embarrassing too.”

Caesar raises an eyebrow at you but doesn’t stop you. Joseph lifts his head a little, curious despite everything. “What? You guys rob a bank or something?”

You laugh lightly, trying to keep it playful. “No, nothing like that. Me and Caesar... we’ve been making out. Like, a lot. We didn’t want to tell you because we figured you’d freak out about your two best friends fooling around.”

You expect him to yell, or tease, or make some big dramatic scene. Instead his face falls even more. The color drains from his cheeks and his beautiful bright eyes that usually sparkle with mischief look... sad. Really sad. He tries to smile but it wobbles and dies halfway.

“Oh,” he mumbles, voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it. “That’s... that’s cool. I’m happy for you guys.”

His hands fidget with the hem of his hoodie and he won’t meet either of your eyes anymore. Caesar notices too, his playful expression fading into concern. “Woah, hey. What’s wrong, amico?”

Joseph lets out a shaky breath, rubbing the back of his neck hard. “Nothing, uh… It’s late, I have a few dances left and I’d prefer for you guys to leave. Don’t tell anyone, please.”

You and Caesar exchange a worried glance, Joseph looks so defeated standing there, hoodie pulled low over his eyes, voice cracking just a little on that last please. 

“Okay... if that’s what you want,” you say softly, reaching out to touch his arm for a second. He flinches but doesn’t pull away. “We’ll go. But text us when you’re done, yeah? Please?”

Caesar nods. “We’re sorry for crashing your night like this, Joseph. Take care of yourself up there.” 

The two of you head out of the club, the cool night air hitting your faces and clearing some of the drunk fog. Neither of you says much at first. You walk close together, shoulders brushing, but the worry sits between you loudly. 

“He looked so sad,” you whisper, biting your lip. “I thought telling him would even things out... but I messed up.”

Caesar sighs, slipping his arm around your waist anyway. “We should have waited, I don’t know. Let’s just get home and figure out what to do tomorrow.”

Meanwhile, inside the club, Joseph stands frozen for a long moment after you two leave. He takes off his hoodie and sits down on the tiny couch he has there. He feels like a complete idiot, his chest hurts, he keeps replaying the way you looked at Caesar. How could he not realize? You two were making out every other night while he was out here dancing for tips, dreaming about maybe confessing one day. Now you were together and he was just the embarrassing best friend who shakes his ass on stage.

Tears prick at the corners of his eyes but he wipes them away angrily. He feels stupid for crying for this shit. You probably feel sorry for him now, he can’t put himself together to see you two again.

He knows he has to go back out there in a few minutes, paste his performer smile and move like nothing’s wrong. But he’s alone with his thoughts, thinking how much of a fool he feels like and how lonely the night suddenly seems.

You and Caesar agree that the best thing you can do is give Joseph some space, but what are you meant to do when said space becomes too damn long for you to handle. You miss him. So. Fucking. Much. Being with Caesar is fine, but when it’s the three of you together, sharing food on the floor of your apartment because you only have one chair, fighting about what movie to watch or making fun of Caesar’s questionable food choices. That’s when you feel the best. And Caesar too. Something is missing when it’s just the two of you.

After four long days of radio silence, the quiet in your apartment starts to feel unbearable. Joseph has not answered a single text, you and Caesar keep catching each other staring at your phones, hoping. Finally you both decide enough is enough.

That night you head back to the club together, nerves buzzing under your skin. You check the stage schedule posted near the entrance and wait until Joseph’s set is over before slipping inside. The dressing room door is half open, and there he is.

Joseph stands in front of a cracked mirror in nothing but some tight stage pants, brushing his dark hair back with frustrated strokes. The muscles in his back tense when he catches your reflection.

He spins around fast, eyes wide at first then narrowing in anger. “What the hell are you two doing here?”

You step inside first, heart pounding hard. Caesar stays right behind you, quiet but solid.

“We gave you space, Joseph,” you say, voice already heating up. “We miss you. I miss my best friend. You can’t just shut us out forever because things got weird one night.”

Joseph’s grip tightens on the hairbrush until his knuckles turn white. “You think I’m shutting you out? You show up here, in my dressing room, right before I have to go dance again and act like I’m the one being dramatic? Why can’t you just leave me alone for a little longer?”

His words sting and you feel your face get hot. “Because we love having you around, you idiot! I gave you time to clear your head but now I want my Joseph back. Not this version who hides from us.”

Caesar tries to cut in gently but Joseph is already shaking, chest rising fast. The brush clatters onto the counter as he steps closer, voice getting louder and louder.

“You’re the idiot! How can you not realize that I’m in love with both of you?” he practically shouts, eyes shiny and desperate. “I have been for ages! Every time we hang out I feel like my heart is gonna explode and I-I push it down because I didn’t want to ruin what we have. Then I see you two together and it kills me. So yeah, I’m angry. I’m embarrassed. And I don’t know how to be around you anymore.”

The dressing room goes dead quiet except for Joseph’s heavy breathing. He looks raw, like he’s about to cry. No one moves or talks for a long second, before Caesar takes a step between both of you.

“Did you guys finish screaming at each other?” he asks, calm but tired. His golden hair catches the cheap dressing room light, making him look too pretty for a moment like this.

You and Joseph both freeze, breathing hard. 

Caesar sighs softly and runs a hand through his own hair. “Look, this is messy. We all messed up a bit. But Joseph, you can’t drop something like that and then expect us to just walk away again.”

Joseph looks down at the floor, shoulders slumping. All that fire from a second ago drains out of him, leaving him looking small and scared in the middle of the tiny room. 

“I didn’t mean to yell,” he mumbles. “It’s been eating me up inside. Seeing you act all secret and cute while I was over here wishing I could be part of it. I felt like an idiot. Still do.”

Your chest tightens, you step around Caesar and reach for Joseph’s hand without thinking. His fingers are warm and a little shaky when they curl around yours. 

“You’re not an idiot, JoJo. We had no idea.”

Caesar moves closer too, placing a careful hand on Joseph’s shoulder. “You were good on that stage, you know. Even when you almost fell on your face seeing us.” A tiny smile tugs at his lips, trying to lighten the mood. “And we miss our trio. The apartment feels empty without you stealing all the blankets.”

Joseph lets out a watery laugh, but his eyes still look shiny. He squeezes your hand back, thumb brushing over your knuckles in that familiar nervous way. “So what now? I just confessed I’m in love with my two best friends. What the fuck does one in this situation?”

You and Caesar share a quick look, enough to know exactly what you were thinking. You talked first. “Why don’t we sit down?”

Joseph blinks at you like he is not sure he heard right, but he lets you pull him over to the small worn out couch in the corner of the dressing room. The three of you squeeze onto it together, your thigh pressed against his and Caesar on his other side. The space is tiny so you are all basically tangled already.

“You’re not an idiot, Joseph,” you say softly, reaching up to brush some hair out of his face. “You are actually really amazing. I love how loud you get when you are excited. So passionate and funny. I never wanted to hurt you by keeping things from you.”

Caesar nods, his hand resting on Joseph’s knee now, thumb rubbing slow circles there. “She’s right. You’re strong and stupidly handsome. You have no idea how much we both like having you around. How much we need you.”

Joseph’s cheeks turn bright red again, but this time it’s not just from embarrassment. He shifts a little between you two, looking confused as hell when your fingers trail down his arm and Caesar leans in closer, nuzzling against his shoulder. 

“W-wait, what is this?” he stutters, eyes wide as he glances between you and Caesar. “Are you messing with me right now?”

You smile softly and cup his cheek, thumb brushing over his warm skin. “We are not messing with you. I think we have feelings for you too. It has always been the three of us, right? Maybe we didn’t see it before because we were scared, but now that it’s out, it feels right.”

Caesar presses a light kiss to Joseph’s temple, making the poor guy freeze up completely. “We want you here with us. If you’ll have us.”

Joseph is speechless, but he’s not rejecting any of your touches.

You lean forward first, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re so cute when you get flustered.”

“I’m-I’m not flustered,” he tries, pouting a little

Caesar chuckles low, his hand sliding up Joseph’s back, fingers tracing the muscles there. He kisses the other side of Joseph’s neck, making Joseph shiver hard between you. 

“So strong,” Caesar murmurs. “All that dancing has done you good, bet you’re really flexible too.”

Joseph lets out a shaky breath, one hand coming up to grip your waist because he needs something to hold onto. 

“You two.. mmm,” he mumbles. He turns his head toward you and you meet him halfway.

The kiss starts gentle, just lips brushing, but Joseph makes this little surprised sound that melts into neediness. His mouth is eager, a little clumsy from nerves, you smile into it while your fingers run through his hair. Caesar watches for a second before he leans in too, kissing along Joseph’s jaw and then catching his lips when you pull back for air.

You keep touching him, hands roaming over his bare chest, feeling the way his heart hammers under your palm. Caesar’s fingers knead at his shoulder, then slide down to his side, pulling him closer until Joseph is basically sandwiched between your bodies. Soft kisses turn a little longer, a little hungrier. Joseph’s hand squeezes your hip, thumb rubbing circles there, while his other hand finds Caesar’s thigh.

You’re in such a high you don’t even hear someone knocking and shouting that Joseph has to perform in about five minutes.

a/n: this is a mess but that fanart has been stucked in my brain for months. don't ask for part 2 cause i won't be writing it

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” You gave him a kind smile before drifting your eyes back to the window. It was more than fine, actually, you loved the way his hair tickled your neck and the trust in how he let himself drift off like that. 

After that first time, it just kept happening. You started cherishing the quiet moments where he let his guard down only around you. Sitting on the worn out while the others were laughing and arguing in the kitchen, Bruno settled next to you, close enough that his shoulder brushed yours. 

“Just resting my eyes for a minute,” he told you as his cheek smushed on your shoulder once again. 

You pretended to focus on the book in your lap as you started to feel his breath evening out, the scent of his cologne filling your nose. You didn’t move a bit, not even when your arm started to tingle.

Even in the living room, while you were flipping through channels or just talking softly about nothing important, Bruno would stretch out beside you, his body relaxing inch by inch. This time, he would turn a little, face pressing lightly into the curve of your neck, with his lips kind of giving you a kiss but not at all. 

“What is happening here?” Mista muttered when he appeared in the living room with a half eaten tangerine in his hand. 

“Shush, Mista.” You waved at him so he’d leave. “Actually, give me a piece.” You stretched out your free arm and urged Mista to give you a piece of his tangerine, he huffed but gave it to you either way. “Thank you, now get out.”

One evening, you were left in the safehouse only with Bruno. Obviously, he was already half-asleep on your shoulder. Until this point, neither of you had talked about this between you, both of you terrified of saying something that would make these quiet moments weird. 

You felt the steady rise and fall of his chest against your side, his hand loosely draped near yours. Your fingers brushed his without thinking, tracing light patterns on his knuckles. He did not pull away.

Your heart beat faster as you gathered the courage. This had gone on long enough. You wanted more than these stolen naps, you wanted to hold him properly, to feel his arms around you too.

“Bruno,” you whispered, voice gentle so you wouldn’t startle him.

He stirred, blinking slowly as he lifted his head. His piercing blue eyes, soft with sleep, met yours. “Hmm? What is it?”

You took a breath, cheeks heating up. “You keep falling asleep on me and I was thinking that maybe next time we could cuddle?”

For a second, he looked surprised, but then a small smile curved his lips. “You mean that?”

“Yeah. I do,” you said, bolder now.

He didn’t hesitate, Bruno shifted, pulling you gently into his arms as he leaned back against the couch. You settled against his warm chest, feeling his accelerated heartbeat. One of his hands rested on your back, immediately rubbing slow circles while the other found your hair, playing with one curl carefully. 

“This is nice,” he murmured. “Better than I imagined.”

You snuggled closer, arms wrapping around his waist. “I could stay like this for hours,” you admitted quietly. 

Bruno chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “As long as you want, bella.”

You smiled into his chest and it took both of you less than ten minutes to fall completely asleep until the next morning, when Narancia woke you up with a horror movie-like scream.

a/n: look at you cuddling with a corpse

i especially love the detail on it sort of becoming a habit like i really feel like bruno would give himself some weird moral dilemma in his head about it the first few times despite his body just finding so much ease and comfort near you that he's able to actually rest. and i love how you write him entering this safe and comforting space:

After that first time, it just kept happening. You started cherishing the quiet moments where he let his guard down only around you. Sitting on the worn out while the others were laughing and arguing in the kitchen, Bruno settled next to you, close enough that his shoulder brushed yours.  “Just resting my eyes for a minute,” he told you as his cheek smushed on your shoulder once again. 

it's always with him just gently entering, him settling in next to the reader, him breathing until it softens into a rest—it's subtle and the lil dialogue of him saying "just resting my eyes for a minute" as if he's also in denial about what's happening too, convincing himself that this isn't anything more than him literally closing his eyes for a minute or two

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” You gave him a kind smile before drifting your eyes back to the window. It was more than fine, actually, you loved the way his hair tickled your neck and the trust in how he let himself drift off like that. 

After that first time, it just kept happening. You started cherishing the quiet moments where he let his guard down only around you. Sitting on the worn out while the others were laughing and arguing in the kitchen, Bruno settled next to you, close enough that his shoulder brushed yours. 

“Just resting my eyes for a minute,” he told you as his cheek smushed on your shoulder once again. 

You pretended to focus on the book in your lap as you started to feel his breath evening out, the scent of his cologne filling your nose. You didn’t move a bit, not even when your arm started to tingle.

Even in the living room, while you were flipping through channels or just talking softly about nothing important, Bruno would stretch out beside you, his body relaxing inch by inch. This time, he would turn a little, face pressing lightly into the curve of your neck, with his lips kind of giving you a kiss but not at all. 

“What is happening here?” Mista muttered when he appeared in the living room with a half eaten tangerine in his hand. 

“Shush, Mista.” You waved at him so he’d leave. “Actually, give me a piece.” You stretched out your free arm and urged Mista to give you a piece of his tangerine, he huffed but gave it to you either way. “Thank you, now get out.”

One evening, you were left in the safehouse only with Bruno. Obviously, he was already half-asleep on your shoulder. Until this point, neither of you had talked about this between you, both of you terrified of saying something that would make these quiet moments weird. 

You felt the steady rise and fall of his chest against your side, his hand loosely draped near yours. Your fingers brushed his without thinking, tracing light patterns on his knuckles. He did not pull away.

Your heart beat faster as you gathered the courage. This had gone on long enough. You wanted more than these stolen naps, you wanted to hold him properly, to feel his arms around you too.

“Bruno,” you whispered, voice gentle so you wouldn’t startle him.

He stirred, blinking slowly as he lifted his head. His piercing blue eyes, soft with sleep, met yours. “Hmm? What is it?”

You took a breath, cheeks heating up. “You keep falling asleep on me and I was thinking that maybe next time we could cuddle?”

For a second, he looked surprised, but then a small smile curved his lips. “You mean that?”

“Yeah. I do,” you said, bolder now.

He didn’t hesitate, Bruno shifted, pulling you gently into his arms as he leaned back against the couch. You settled against his warm chest, feeling his accelerated heartbeat. One of his hands rested on your back, immediately rubbing slow circles while the other found your hair, playing with one curl carefully. 

“This is nice,” he murmured. “Better than I imagined.”

You snuggled closer, arms wrapping around his waist. “I could stay like this for hours,” you admitted quietly. 

Bruno chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “As long as you want, bella.”

You smiled into his chest and it took both of you less than ten minutes to fall completely asleep until the next morning, when Narancia woke you up with a horror movie-like scream.

a/n: look at you cuddling with a corpse