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summers for you

Summary:

Furina wraps her arms around her pillow and squeezes it close to her. She is already looking forward to their next meeting.

When she wakes up again, night has properly fallen, and her pillow is damp.

Furina has often cried herself to sleep, but never because she finally had friends. It is nice to have friends.

It is nice to be… in love.

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Three times Clorinde and Navia make Furina cry. (Ft. a lot of sex.)

Notes:

Wrote this in two sittings in a fever state.

Work Text:

one. 

 

“... And that’s how I relieve stress,” Navia finishes with a wink. “I go on a hike somewhere in the wilderness, and just shout .” 

 

“Just shout?” Furina asks, incredulous. “What do you mean?”

 

“Like this.” 

 

Navia untangles her fingers from Furina’s. Then, she spreads her arms, closes her eyes, and opens her mouth in a wordless wail. It trails in the warm evening air, warm and raw. Navia turns in a circle and her hair streams behind her like her voice, reflecting the colour of the sunset. 

 

Slowly spinning to a stop, she turns back toward Furina and Clorinde. Plump reddened lips curve into a smirk as she catches each of their gazes in turn. 

 

“And how about you two?” 

 

As she leans over to Clorinde, her hair tickles Furina’s cheek. Her breath is warm against Furina’s neck. 

 

Then, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, as though she is speaking of something else altogether –

 

“I think you should try it, Furina. I just really think it’s something you’d enjoy.” 

 

“Sure!” Furina nods, curiously.

 

She releases her arms into the air, closes her eyes, and lets the summer air take her. Then, she shouts, the way she saw Navia do earlier. 

 

“AAAAAHHHHH!” 

 

Oh. 

 

It is not nearly as pretty as the way Navia managed to do it, but it does come out as a rush through her lungs, and Furina opens her eyes and smiles. 

 

“I think I quite like this!” 

 

“You’re so cute,” Navia smiles. “It’d be good for you, I’m sure.” 

 

One arm wraps around Furina’s waist, hand sliding to her hip. Furina becomes aware of how her plush lips are inches from her neck. It is so warm. Physical touch is a strange thing, tasting of mortal flesh and blood and something sweeter, just beneath the surface – the hues of which Furina is only just getting used to. 

 

“And you, Clorinde?” Navia calls. Laughter plays through her words, and her breath ghosts across Furina’s ear. “Perhaps Clorinde might be…. A little different from us.”

 

Furina opens her mouth. “What do you –”  

 

Clorinde catches up to them in two steady strides, the picnic basket from the afternoon’s excursion in her hand. 

 

“For my form of stress relief,” Clorinde states, matter-of-factly, “I prefer to hunt.” 

 

“Oh!” Furina nods. Of course! Well, what else did she expect? Clorinde is a Champion Duelist adept with her sword, after all. Furina had just not spent enough time realising what it means outside of her professional duties, back in the days when she was a false Archon. 

 

Well, perhaps Clorinde can now show her how to beat the Local Legend that she confronted after receiving her vision, which had the audacity to completely slap her around. 

 

“Can you show me how you do it, Clorinde? There was this time I went to the lake and –” 

 

Clorinde smiles at her. It is deliberate and steady, like everything else about her. Steady like her gaze, and her arm, all those years that she was by Furina’s side. (Back when Furina was also, as she always has been, fragile as a mere mortal. Clorinde never knew that she could shatter at any moment.) 

 

Navia giggles behind them. 

 

“Yes, our Clorinde is quite the… hunter indeed.” 

 

With a gleam in her eye, she reaches over Furina – chest heavy and warm against Furina’s arm – to trail a single finger down Clorinde’s bicep. 

 

Something about the sight sends a shiver down Furina’s spine. 

 

“Those poor prey… Just helpless beneath you…” 

 

Clorinde’s steps slow. From Furina’s other side, she eyes Navia. 

 

“Well.” Her voice is calm, even as Navia pants and laughs beside them. “That is one way you can see it.” 

 

Furina giggles. 

 

She cannot help it. These days, all it takes is something like this: an afternoon out with Navia and Clorinde, and Navia’s skin against her and Clorinde by her side – 

 

(Days that she got to have after that day: that morning when Furina still did not believe that she was deserving of meeting Navia’s eye, but Clorinde visited her at her home and insisted that they went out. In a cafe on a spring afternoon, Navia gave her an apology she did not think she deserved, before wrapping her arms around Furina until she started crying like a five-century-year-old baby.) 

 

– All it takes is this, and suddenly she is grinning like an idiot and her face is about to fall right off. 

 

Navia’s arm squeezes around Furina’s waist. Finally, Navia’s lips find their way to her neck. Just a tender kiss – but so warm, with just a hint of wetness, that it sends another flush up Furina’s chest. 

 

“Did you enjoy yourself today, Furina?” Clorinde murmurs. 

 

Clorinde is backlit by the glow of the sunset. Her hand is outstretched, like a gentle offering. 

 

It took a long time for Clorinde to stop calling her ‘Lady’. Furina has never been a real Archon, in any case, and Clorinde is no longer her Champion Duelist, and it is not Clorinde’s job anymore to make sure that she has a good day. Yet even now, the polite deference still creeps into Clorinde’s voice, like Furina matters as though she is (still) an Archon. 

 

 “Yes!” Furina beams at her, and turns to smile at Navia as well. “I really liked your macarons too, Navia. Next time, you have to show me how you make them.” 

 

She takes Clorinde’s hand and links her arm closer with Navia’s. Together, they return to the city. 

 

When Furina arrives back at her apartment, it is quiet. Unlike the Palais, where countless other hands would always clean her sheets and rearrange her belongings when she was gone, the house is untouched and dim just like the way she left it that morning. On her way to her bedroom, she almost trips over an aluminum wrapper – a souvenir from the new stash of candy that she tore into the previous night. 

 

Furina used to love the silence. Silence often meant that there were also no eyes on her, and no lights. In the darkness of her room in the Palais, she would often imagine herself hanging in suspension in the dark, as though it were so easy to disappear. 


Now, she still enjoys the quiet, though it is never as total and pressing as it was in the cloistered room in the Palais. Now, the rumble of voices in the city drift in through her curtains, and Furina finds that the golden glow of streetlamps can be beautiful too. Beautiful like the colour of Navia’s hair. 

 

Navia and Clorinde. 

 

Furina flops down onto her bed and thinks about them. 

 

Yet again. 

 

She is increasingly finding that it is all that she can do lately, especially after these excursions. Think about Navia’s pretty hair, and her collarbones that her dress exposed so perfectly today, and the press of her chest against Furina’s side. And her mouth, inches against Furina’s throat – definitely on purpose, because Navia always knows the effect she has on people… Think about Clorinde, with her small smiles, and that quiet strength beneath her skin, which always sends an unspeakable longing curling through Furina’s stomach. 

 

She does not know how she ever managed not to notice these things when she was an Archon. She has always been mortal, after all, but these days, the nerve endings in her body – her chest, her stomach, her skin – feel so much more alive than they have ever been before, and so sensitive, to – 

 

Clorinde’s fingers, and the slow deliberate curl of them as they intertwined with Furina’s own. So in control. And safe

 

The curtains are closed. Furina curls herself as tightly as she can into a ball and then kicks her feet outward, letting out a wail not unlike the one that she did out in the open earlier. 

 

Without even bothering to undress – there is no one to look at her now, after all – she shoves one hand into her pants, roughly delving between her legs and sighs as she finds her clit. She is wet, already. Of course she is. She always is, after these excursions with Navia and Clorinde with their pretty looks and pretty voices.  

 

Sprawled on her back, Furina raises her legs and shoves three fingers unceremoniously into herself without even bothering to take her pants off. She moans as she finds the correct spot, where she is already throbbing. This was never that enjoyable when she was playing as an Archon, but now the pressure between her legs is relentless. 

 

She imagines that it is Clorinde’s finger, curling deep inside her while thumbing her sensitive clit as she leaks and whines and moans. Would Clorinde be merciful to her? Or would she drag it out slowly as Navia closed her pretty lips around her nipple? Oh – no, no – 

 

Furina cums embarrassingly quickly, back arching off the bed. 

 

As she settles slowly back into her body, she idly wonders what Navia and Clorinde would say if they knew what she did to herself after every time they went out together. Navia probably knew already.  Navia always knows about these things, with those knowing looks that she gives to both of them, which Furina is still learning how to decipher. 

 

Furina wraps her arms around her pillow and squeezes it close to her. She is already looking forward to their next meeting. 

 

When she wakes up again, night has properly fallen, and her pillow is damp.  

 

Furina has often cried herself to sleep, but never because she finally had friends. 

 

It is nice to have… friends

 

It is nice to be… in love. 

 

—-----------------------------------------------------------

 

Two. 

 

Against Furina’s mouth, Navia’s lips are warm and insistent. Her sleeve is hanging off her shoulder to expose the smooth expanse of her shoulder. Her hand cups Furina’s jaw to pull her closer while her other arm wraps around Furina’s waist, hand trailing up her spine. 

 

Furina is already, embarrassingly, throbbing. 

 

Navia pulls away just enough to smirk. Her breath is warm against Furina’s skin and her lips glisten.  

 

“Ever had a lady in your lap, Furina?” 

 

“I…” Furina struggles, very intelligently. 

 

Giving up on words, she simply nods vigorously. Some part of her registers that she is not even answering Navia’s question, but that does not quite matter now when her body is thrumming in yes, yes, yes to anything that Navia might suggest. 

 

Navia giggles. Adjusting her position where they are sitting on the couch, she hoists herself up and swings one leg across Furina’s body so she is straddling her. Her ass is against Furina’s thighs and her clothed crotch presses flush against Furina’s stomach. 

 

Furina moans. Led by instinct, she places her hands – useless by her side – against Navia’s hips and digs her fingers into her. 


What is she supposed to do, really? In the Inazuman light novels that Furina read, the princely lady would always take charge, position her lady by the hips, and press her into the nearest available surface to ravish her. Furina, though, has only just managed to master the art of kissing without feeling as though she is just ramming her lips into Navia’s and Clorinde’s out of sheer desperation. 

 

(The last time they met up, it was at Clorinde’s apartment, and they kissed and kissed and kissed until Furina began to truly understand the maidens that hurled coins and tears alike into the Fountain of Lucince – where Furina herself had cried at, too, but for other matters entirely – about something like this.) 

 

From somewhere behind Navia, Clorinde chuckles. Navia shifts against her, and Furina cracks her eyes open to see Clorinde wrapping her arms around Navia from behind. 

 

Clorinde is in nothing but her tank top and shorts, toned arms bare and visible. Repositioning Navia’s body, Clorinde leans into her and presses her mouth into Navia’s neck. One hand reaches around Navia’s chest to squeeze at her breast. 

 

Mmf,” Navia laughs against Furina’s mouth. “Felt that, Furina? Someone’s getting so desperate already.” 

 

Navia releases her, then.  Holding Furina’s gaze for as long as she can and still seated on Furina’s lap, Navia twists sideways and captures Clorinde’s jaw with her hand the same way she did Furina’s, earlier. Her other finger comes to Clorinde’s lips. 

 

It is then that Furina sees it: the flush that creeps up Clorinde’s neck and down her ears. She has rarely seen Clorinde openly express much emotion, but with Navia, and now with her sometimes, there are these delicious tells that she feels it, too. This same warmth that stirs in Furina’s gut whenever they are together. 

 

(Perhaps the first time Furina noticed it was that first time she kissed Clorinde, during one of their picnics, simply because she could not stand it anymore. When she pulled away, there was a tentative smile at the corner of her mouth that Furina never saw before when she was still cursed, when she was not allowed to kiss Clorinde, or smile at her like this.) 

 

Navia’s beautiful lips spread in a grin. 

 

“Can’t even wait till I was done with Furina here?” Her fingers flex, squeezing around Clorinde’s cheek. 

 

Clorinde does not back down. Her arm around Navia’s waist tightens. Furina can feel it in the unbidden hitch of Navia’s breath, the way Navia’s thighs clench around Furina’s waist. Navia is not immune to these gestures of Clorinde’s. It is like a game they play, Furina has learned. Like hunting, even. 

 

Clorinde wraps her fingers around Navia’s wrist and sets her hand behind her – so easily, as though it were but an afterthought. (It makes Furina breathless.) 

 

“Oh, Navia,” she whispers. “You think so?” 

 

Then, Clorinde and Navia are kissing. 

 

Navia pulls Clorinde toward her and Furina can see the flex in Clorinde’s arm as she reaches down to caress Navia’s sides. A moan passes between them and Furina can hardly tell whose it is. Their lips slide against each other and Navia’s thighs tighten around Furina in repeated, sporadic clenches every time Clorinde presses closer. 

 

When they finally break apart, they both turn toward Furina. Clorinde even more flushed now, down to her chest. Furina can see the press of her hardened nipples against the fabric of her shirt. 

 

Then, Furina realises that she is just staring at them with her forgotten hand trailing uselessly across Navia’s hip, and that the look on her face must be absolutely fucking stupid. 

 

Clorinde leans toward her, then. A hand settles on her shoulder and a finger traces across her cheek, lining her cheekbone. 


Before she can stop herself, Furina leans in, squeezes her eyes shut and presses her lips against Clorinde’s. Still on her lap, Navia laughs. A hand gropes its way across Furina’s stomach and up her chest, pinching at her hardened nipples through her clothes, sending a jolt of heat straight down to her clit. 

 

At some point as they make out, Navia lays Furina down on the bed and climbs into her lap again. She feels herself nodding vigorously as Clorinde finally tugs her pants off her. She can feel the slick that has pooled in her underwear, where she is desperate for friction. Embarrassingly, she feels ruined already, and Navia and Clorinde have not even touched her there. 

 

When she squints her eyes open, Navia is straddling her stomach and Clorinde is between her legs, hand at the waistband of her underwear. 

 

Navia and Clorinde are staring straight at her, fixing her with their gazes. 

 

The bright light of the ceiling bores straight into the periphery of her vision – 

 

And Furina freezes. 

 

She squeezes her eyes shut again. The cool air brushes against her heated core, and she is suddenly very aware of the residue of slick that has gathered between her legs. Suddenly, it all feels too cold. 

 

It is also too sticky, too bright. And Navia and Clorinde are both still looking at her while she lies sprawled and undignified between them on the bed, and – 

 

Navia thumbs one nipple, but the heat that has built earlier is gone. Not wanting to ruin the moment, Furina musters a moan, high-pitched and emphasised. It seems to work, because Clorinde’s hands are on her again, and she tries to focus on the sensation of her palms to ground herself before the swirling lights take her away. 

 

“Furina,” Clorinde murmurs, parting her legs slightly. “May I?” 

 

Her voice is hoarse with want. Want. For Furina. She has made Clorinde like this. She needs to – 

 

“Yes – of course!” Furina exclaims, modulating her voice as far as she can without opening her eyes. “I –”
 

The hand on Furina’s thigh pauses.

 
“Furina… if you’re not comfortable –” 

 

There it is again. Clorinde asked it on that night too, that first time they kissed, and she touched Furina as though she were made of glass. Except this time, Furina really does feel as though she is made of glass, and a flush of anger rises in her chest at the fact that she cannot even enjoy what she was very well looking forward to for weeks. It is the worst possible time to delve back into a headspace that is no longer relevant anymore, because she no longer even needs to be an Archon anymore and it is all stupid – 

 

Please , Clorinde,” Furina musters, trilling her voice. “Please – Please ravish me.” 

 

Navia’s hand stills. 

 

Furina opens her eyes and is immediately hit again by the blinding light from the ceiling. Navia and Clorinde both frowning at her, Navia pushing herself up so that she is no longer straddling Furina. 

 

Furina squeezes her eyes shut again and tries to turn away. 

 

Well, she has quite ruined it now. 

 

“Furina,” Navia says. 

 

A hand settles on her shoulder – cautious, warm, Navia’s hand, Navia who has forgiven her for everything she did not do as an Archon – but Furina still almost flinches. 

 

Then, Clorinde’s voice: “Furina, are you still enjoying this?” 

 

A pause. Clorinde’s voice lowers. 

 

“Did… anything happen?” 

 

She hears Clorinde’s footsteps, then, making her way to the other side of the bed. The mattress dips as Clorinde sits down, and now, Furina is lying squarely between both of them with her eyes squeezed shut. 

 

“I… Was it that obvious?” she mumbles weakly. She tries to muster a laugh, but it fades in the quiet. A long time ago, she once hoped that if she were to just close her eyes, it would shut the lights off and turn the world away. She has had centuries to learn that it does not quite work that way. 

 

“Can’t quite fool us, anymore,” Navia breathes. 

 

“I’m… sorry,” Furina mumbles. There is a pressure in her chest again, but this time she wonders if she is going to cry. She has never quite been able to control her tears. “I… We were going to…” 

 

“This is supposed to be enjoyable, Furina.” Clorinde’s voice is steady and achingly gentle. Navia hums her assent. “If you are not having fun, there is no point for any of us to continue.” 

 

And there it is again: The way she speaks, as though Furina is still her Lady Focalors. As though she cares just as much, regardless. 

 

“Turn the lights off,” Furina begs, voice quivering. “It’s – it’s so bright!” 

 

The bed creaks again as Clorinde gets to her feet. There is a clicking sound, and then the world falls, finally, into blissful dimness. 

 

It is then that Furina opens her eyes. 

 

Navia has lain down beside her so they are face to face, side to side. Her hand still on Furina’s shoulder – a solid warmth, for her to anchor herself with.

 

“I’m… sorry,” Furina tries again. “What… what do you want to do now?” 


Navia tucks a strand of hair behind Furina’s ear. 

 

“What do you want, dear Furina?” 

 

Clorinde joins them, sitting down beside Navia to tuck an arm around her waist.  

 

“Can… can we stay like this?” Furina asks, scooting closer to both of them, seeking her warmth again. 

 

When she finally starts to cry, Clorinde rubs circles into her skin. (Soft, with just one finger, because Furina does not like to be touched too much when she is upset, and does not like too many people near her when she is crying. And Clorinde… Clorinde knows this, even without Furina telling her.)

 

“Of course,” Clorinde echoes. “Anything you want, Furina.” 

 

—-------------------------------------

 

Three. 

 

When she was an Archon, Furina did wonder – in the spare occasions that she could actually afford time for wondering – what it would be like if she had a Vision. 

 

The irony of it did not escape her at all, of course. As an Archon, she is supposed to have power far-exceeding visions, and yet her fantasies involve elemental powers that are most accessible to mortals like her: Visions. 

 

Well, first of all, which element would she wield? It would be so silly for her to have anything other than Hydro, of course. Still, if the people already assumed her to have powers over the many waters, perhaps a show of Anemo or Pyro would serve to stun them even more about her divine abilities. Even beyond that, Furina would appreciate having a new power to learn and understand, and being able to protect herself in the way other mortals could. 

 

And if she were to be able to manipulate the power of Hydro, well… This element in particular offers a whole host of possibilities other than merely combat. 

 

Hydro and Geo are often used to craft materials and substances of various qualities, textures, and purposes. The power of water is indeed that it can take any form, after all. In recent years, Hydro elemental powers have increasingly been used for purposes of bodily modification. None of this was remotely relevant to her as a false and visionless “Archon”, of course. Merely an idle wondering. 

 

Point being:

 

She does have a Hydro vision, now. It was given by her dear Iudex – well, simply Iudex Neuvillette, now – himself no less. She has even put in a sincere amount of effort to study the way it works. (It is particularly effective against Pyro, which is how she manages to break the shields of certain Fontemer Aberrants. It is, however, pointless against a certain Local Legend, also a Hydro allogene.) 

 

And now… 

 

Standing in front of her bathroom mirror, fully naked, vision in hand, staring between her own legs…

 

She still blushes. 

 

A silly image emerges in her mind of what Neuvillette – prim, proper, protective – would say if he were to see what she is going to attempt to do with his gift. 

 

No, not Neuvillette. There is no need to think about Neuvillette in these circumstances.

 

She grips her vision in her hand, and wills the waters to take form. 

 

—----------------

 

“So,” Navia whispers against Furina’s mouth, sighing as Clorinde thumbs her breast. “What is it that you wanted to show us?” 

 

Find out for yourself, Furina wants to say. Unwrap me. All manner of seductive repartees. But then Clorinde wraps her arms around her waist, and all she can muster is a thrust of her hips against Navia’s thigh like some dog in heat. 

 

Navia stills. She draws away from Furina for a second, and her eyes light up with a gleam before darkening with a hunger that Furina has never quite seen before.

 

(For her. For her. Because of her .) 

 

Ah.” 

 

Clorinde’s hands slip their way across her sides and to her front – down, down to her thighs before sliding across the tent that has already formed in her pants. 

 

Before, arousal was always a dull throb deep inside her; the need to rub, and to be filled. Now, there is an added swollen pressure as though her clit were enlarged. Every brush against every nerve ending feels magnified – the fabric of her underwear against her tip, and Clorinde’s long fingers roving over her whole length through her pants. 

 

She has thought about this, even when she was a false god and none of this was relevant. Furina loves playing the beautiful lady in a romance, and loves the idea of being courted . Still, she has other fantasies too: of being a prince like the ones that she also played onstage, kissing the hand of a beautiful lady, courting a beautiful lady, and pleasuring a beautiful lady – deep inside her. How lovely would it be to switch as she pleases? 

 

As an “Archon”, these were all daydreams, false and fleeting.

 

Now in the flesh, however, she feels so much.  

 

“Mm.. Clorinde…” she pants, already unable to help herself. She is probably going to cum embarrassingly quickly again.  

 

Clorinde tugs her pants down and Furina’s cock springs free. Crafted from Hydro, it has a bluish hue, and it is already leaking. 

 

Navia sucks in a breath. 

 

“Wow! Furina, you’ve been exercising a lot of creativity, haven’t you?” 

 

As much as she can even more, with Clorinde’s fingers wrapping around her shaft and sending heat pulsing through her stomach, Furina flushes. 

 

“Y-Yeah…” she stutters. “Always wondered how it would feel to… Ah, Clorinde, please –!” 

 

She cannot help it. When Clorinde lets go of her, her voice pitches into a high-pitched whine. Fortunately, Clorinde touch does not does not leave her for long. She simply repositions herself to climb fully onto the bed where Furina is half-reclining on, and sets her forearms on either side of Furina. 

 

Irrevocably, Furina’s eyes draw themselves to between Clorinde’s own legs, where her strap is already attached, already slick with a mixture of lubricant and Furina’s own fluids from when she sucked on it mere minutes ago. It dangles between her legs as she braces herself above Furina, until Clorinde wraps her hand around it and presses against Furina until Furina is lying down with Clorinde’s legs between hers – 

 

“Furina, I’m going to….” 

 

– And Clorinde grinds her strap right into Furina’s cock. 

 

It is nothing like Furina has ever felt before. She thrusts up against Clorinde, hands scrabbling instinctively at Clorinde’s ass to pull her closer, harder. Her cock slips against the lubricated surface of the strap, and she whimpers, thighs clenching around Clorinde’s waist.

 

“You’re beautiful, Furina.” Clorinde thrusts again. “Do you know that?” 

 

Clorinde groans. It is a soft, hoarse sound at the base of her throat, and it sends another throb of pleasure through both Furina’s cock and that deeper place inside her, in her also-dripping hole. Clorinde rarely made such noises, even when they did this, and every time she did, it keys her up so much she feels drunk on it. 

 

Clorinde’s hair falls over her shoulder and against Furina’s cheek. The scent of her overwhelms Furina: the clean smell of soap and the muskier tones beneath, of sweat, slick, and sex, and the heat that they have worked up between them. Then, Clorinde wraps a hand around both of them. With every thrust, Furina is fucking up into her warm callused grip on one side of her cock and the stiff edge of her strap on the other, and it is all she can do to maintain the pace that Clorinde is setting and not grind herself to desperate completion. 

 

She hears a moan beside her. 

 

Furina’s head lolls to one side to see Navia sprawled on the bed beside her, legs parted at just an angle for Furina to see her pumping two fingers into herself as she watches them. As she catches Furina’s eye, Navia smiles. Fingers catching at the rim of her hole, she spreads herself, glistening with slick and clenching around nothing. 

 

“Navia…” Furina whimpers, not even sure what she is asking for. 

 

“Yes, dear Furina?” Navia whispers, breathlessly. “What do you want?” 

 

Furina bites her lip and moans wordlessly. Her cock aches. She would have kicked her feet, except for Clorinde’s weight on top of her, holding her down. She twists her head to one side and covers her moan with her elbow, but Clorinde stops her with a single hand around her wrist. 

 

“Ah, Furina,” Navia sighs, eyes following the motion. “But we want to see you…” 


“Navia,” she hears herself say again, like a chant. “Navia, please… I want –” 

 

Clorinde laughs, then. She releases Furina, sits up, and leans back as Navia lifts a leg over to straddle Furina. 

 

Navia bends down and cups Furina’s cheek with one hand. Her wet entrance grinds, slowly and deliberately, along the full length of Furina’s cock. Furina arches her back to get closer, for more friction, but Navia presses a kiss to her cheek and lifts her hips off Furina’s. 

 

Furina whimpers. 

 

“Please, Navia,” she begs. 

 

“Please what, my love?” Navia’s lips graze Furina’s throat. “You have to tell me what you want.” 

 

“You know! ”  

 

From somewhere behind Navia, Clorinde presses Furina’s legs further apart. A caress on each inner thigh is all the preparation that Furina gets before two slim, callused fingers sink into her hole. Clever, clever fingers that always know how to make her squirm – 

 

Except this time, when Clorinde finds her sweet spot, she simply stops. One light, fleeting brush, enough to send the tension in Furina’s lower belly coiling, right at the edge of a fresh bloom of arousal, but not enough. 

 

“Furina, love, you have to tell me what you want…” 

 

Furina would have kicked her feet, if not for the fact that Navia immediately pins her down. Clorinde’s fingers slide deeper inside her, probing impossibly softly, grazing against her sensitive walls but not rubbing where she needs her to be. Furina moans, trying to press her hips down to chase the friction, but it just keys her up even more with no possibility for actual release.

This is so unfair. They are being so mean to her. They are so – 

 

Navia rolls her shoulders and arches her back. The motion positions her hole right at the tip of Furina’s cock – the lightest, wet touch. Furina twitches beneath her, simultaneously trying to arch up into Navia and sink down deeper against Clorinde. 

 

Another touch against her most sensitive spot, but it is not enough.

Furina jerks. Immediately, Clorinde places a palm at her hipbone and effortlessly holds her down. The sheer motion itself is so hot that she – 

 

Furina bursts into tears. 

 

“Please!” she begs. “Want to be – inside –” She no longer knowing if she is talking about wanting to be in Navia, or have Clorinde deeper inside her. 


That seems to do the trick. Finally, Navia sinks down until Furina is buried deep inside her. The heat throbs around her cock in a velvety clench, and Furina is burning, every nerve alight and taut.

 

Holding Furina’s gaze, Navia raises her hips before sinking down again. At the same time, Clorinde inserts another finger into Furina and grinds a slick, rapid rub against her sweet spot. 

 

Furina has cried many times. 

 

This might be one of the first time she also screamed while doing so. 

 

—-----------------------------

 

When she is finally aware of her limbs again, she finds herself curled into Clorinde’s side and thoroughly spent. 

 

“Did you enjoy yourself, Furina?” she hears Clorinde ask. 

 

“Yeah…” 

 

Furina does not manage to make her vocal cords work any more, so she pushes herself up and presses her lips against hers. Clorinde holds her softly by the waist as she comes down from her high, and Furina wraps her arms around her and allows herself to go boneless. Then, she moves to Navia who is lying on her other side, and sucks a sleepier kiss into her collarbone.

 

They smell of perfume and sweat and heat. And something else, beneath the surface, that makes Furina’s heart feel incredibly tender in her chest. 

 

Some day, she will tell Clorinde that she no longer has to ask her question every time. Or perhaps, some day, Clorinde and Navia will find that her answer never changes. 

 

But for now, Navia giggles into her mouth and pinches her cheek. “Of course she likes shouting as her form of stress-relief.”  

 

“Rather like yourself, Navia?” Clorinde murmurs. 

 

There is a hunger in Clorinde’s voice as she reaches tentatively toward Navia, and Furina distinctly remembers that Clorinde is the only one who has not finished yet. So Furina props herself up on one elbow, hand finding her cock again, and watches in sleepy delight as Clorinde pull Navia into a heated kiss.