#marble night city | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

utterlyazriel · 6 months

Text

love will unravel me (so please keep your hands held tight)

sorry if ur seeing this twice !! i am a finicky gal and was tooo sad it didn't appear in the tags so forgive me for the repost <3 it's good ol' hurt/comfort

It's unnerving.

To know something is somehow... wrong and yet, not be able to put your finger on it. Something being off.

There had been something off since your return from the Illyrian Mountains. Like a scar you hadn't ever remembered getting, like a lump in your bed that hadn't been there before.

You had returned to the Night Court only the night before, far later than expected. It had been near twilight, yourself kept late in the war-camps dealing with the unpleasant likes of Lord Devlon. All you wanted to do was to crawl into your waiting bed.

But your bed wasn't empty.

The perfect shape of your mate, tucked beneath the blankets, is one you could recognize in the dark. Even then, you had felt the strange difference — a tickle along the nape of your neck, enough to make you shiver.

Drained of your energy, you carelessly ignore it. Chalk it up to the bad feeling you got every time you went back to those gods forsaken war-camps.

Beyond their terrible ways and nearly tyrannical leaders, your own mate's history there was enough to make you want to burn it to the ground. To scorch and salt the Earth so nothing could grow there for a hundred years as proof of the pain.

So, feeling weary, you crawl into your bed. Your eyes find Azriel sleeping beside you, silent as always, and you trace the delicate features of his face in the dark. Even in his sleep, his shadows, lazy and slow, greet you as a slumber begins to wash over you. The lull of dreams comes quick.

As does morning. But come morning, Azriel isn't there.

Not the most unexpected thing; there were early morning trainings frequently enough. However, Azriel loathed each time you were sent to monitor over those war-camps. He bristled silently each time you left and rejoiced in that quiet, tender way he did best when you came back home to him. A mission in Illyria usually guaranteed a morning in bed with your lover.

Today, the sheets are cold.

You frown as you push yourself up, the sheets pooling at your waist. Faintly, at the back of your neck, you feel it once again. The tickle. Frown deepening, you reached your hand up to scratch at the back of your neck absentmindedly. Your eyes fall on the door.

Like a mystical tug, you feel compelled to search for the Shadowsinger — slipping out of bed silently, the tiled floor is warm from the morning sun beneath your feet. You pull the door open an inch, wondering just where your mate has ambled off to this morning.

As you step through the door, drawn by your mysterious compulsion, you don't turn back to check behind you.

And even if you had, your eyes would glaze over the large Illyrian, still bundled up in your sheets, turning over in his sleep.

—

You find Azriel out on the balcony, not in training as you had suspected.

He's facing out towards the city, his hands braced on the marble, his strong wings held proudly behind him. Interestingly, his shadows have forgone him this morning. Not one of them is in sight. You sidle up to him, feeling more yourself already just seeing him.

"Abandoning me in bed this morning?" You begin, playfully. You reach out to loop a hand through his arm. "I thought you had promised me—"

Your words come to an abrupt halt as Azriel shifts before you can touch him, his arm pulled out of reach.

In fact, as he notices your presence and turns to you, he takes an entire step backward. His handsome face screws up, a frown set on his brow.

"Don't." He says severely.

Your chest pangs with hurt. Your eyebrows crowd together in your confusion, concern beginning to melt into your blood.

"Az?" You say tentatively. You want to step closer to him, to cradle his face in your hands like you do whenever he has that crushed expression on — but a greater part of you fears he may retreat from you again.

"Don't call me that." He say, voice lower. His head dips, turned away from you to hide his face. Your concern swells, a thousand alarms ringing inside your mind. The back of your neck tickles again.

"Azriel," You try again desperately, fighting to keep your voice even. "What happened? What's going on?"

Confusion paints every thought in your mind as it whirls and searches, hunting desperately for the cause of your mate's sudden iciness. Was it something you had done? Was it taking another mission to a place you knew he so despised you going to?

The Fae before you doesn't say a word.

"Azriel," His name comes out a plea, unable to help yourself. It only scratches deeper into your soul when he maneuvers again, quicker than you, purposefully evading your touch.

"Stop." He instructs, the word nearly a growl. His voice is alike to the bark he uses for talking down to unruly war-camp Lords. It's nothing like the soft, sweet tone you're so accustomed to. It makes his words sting even more. "Your touch disgusts me."

You reel back at his words, a sharp inhale shooting to your lungs. What? You could feel your mouth opening and closing, no words coming to fruition. Behind your eyes, you can feel the itch beginning. You will your tears away, confusion still the dominant emotion swirling inside.

"I—" You stammer. "I don't understand."

Azriel snorts, unamused. He crosses his arms across his broad chest, looking more intimidating than usual as he draws to his full height. He keeps his eyes on the ground but the expression on his face looks... bored.

"I've had a revelation."

Another ache resounds through your chest. Why is he being so cryptic? Since when... had disgust been something Azriel had ever associated with you? You shiver at the prickle that rolls down your neck. It's as though you had gone to bed and your mate had been switched in the night.

"Az, you're scaring—"

"Stop calling me that." He snarls, interrupting you. You jolt in surprise, your feet taking a step back. With the way he's leering over you, a hint of anger —anger you've never seen directed at you before— creeping into his face, something akin to fear grows within you.

Azriel is stronger than you and far more deadly. A fact that usually provides comfort, for the first time, only grows your unease.

"Don't you want to hear my revelation?" He asks, his growl barely reined in. He smiles down at you but it's not soft in the way you know. It's cruel.

You take a step back. Something is wrong— terribly, entirely and utterly wrong with the love of your life. Panic begins to bubble up, like waters rising in a sinking ship.

You need to find someone else. You need Cassian, need Rhys, need anyone else here to help because you are the worst person to help. Every word he says cuts deep to bone. You can feel your heart bleeding within your chest.

It has to be a trick.

That was all you could think. Your mind was stumbling over the sentence over and over, almost delirious in how it clung to the thought tightly. It must, it must —you hoped it was. Begged it to be.

You take another step back, ready to dash through the house and call for help — but Azriel takes another step toward you. Your fear spikes, looking up his snarled face, the power within him radiating off in waves.

"I came to realise that I don't—"

"—y/n?"

A voice cuts in. There's someone else on the balcony with you. Thank the Mother, you think to yourself, whipping around to find Cassian in the doorway. He's got a furrow in his brown, concern written all over his expression.

"Cassian," You breath his name in a sigh of relief. You step back again, hyper aware of how Azriel seems to take the exact same amount of steps as you, following you to the door. Your panic flares away, your breaths coming fast and short.

"Cassian, thank gods—" You begin.

"What's happening?" He interrupts urgently. His eyes are on you alone, never flickering across to Azriel out on the balcony. "Why are you— did you have another nightmare?"

"Nightmare?" You repeat, eyes wide as you stare at him in concerned bewilderment.

You're about to point out the very large intimidating Male staring you both down when Azriel speaks again.

"I said," He drawls out the word and your head snaps back to look at him. You fail to notice that Cassian doesn't even turn at all.

"I've had a revelation, my dear."

It all sounds so terribly sarcastic, such a far cry from your stoic, sincere mate. You cringe, already feeling how his next words will be made cut you down.

"I don't want you anymore."

"—what can you see?—" Cassian's voice speaks from beside you, fuzzy and out of focus. You stare at Azriel, your heart beginning to hum and fizzle, a thousand fissures breaking upon the surface.

An anguish so deep in your bones rattles through your body — and across the House of Wind, your real mate wakes up with a gasp at the feel of it.

"What?" You croak, unable to tear your eyes away from Azriel.

You can feel Cassian's hands on your shoulder, shaking you, but you can't— you won't look away. Something deep within you compels you to watch him break your heart and shred your soul. The back of your neck singes with heat.

"—What is it you're seeing?!—" Cassian's voice dips in and out. His hand sweeps your hair back, looking for any ailments causing this. He finds it in an instant. "Holy Cauldron, your neck. Oh, that's so not good. Rhys!"

He bellows for the Highlord right as Azriel, the real Azriel, bursts in through the door — following the taut agonizing pain in his chest, that connects you two together. His eyes snag on you and Cassian, out on the balcony, and his brother turns to him but you do not.

"Azriel," Cassian warns. "It's a Vesania Sigil."

Azriel pays him no heed, even as the words echo through him with a darkened dread. His stomach turns, bile threatening.

A Vesania Sigil— his knees nearly threaten to buckle beneath him.

A Vesania Sigil is a sinister curse, placed on people to drive them to the brink of insanity, minds scrambled to exhaustion.

In all the times Azriel has seen them in his long lifetime... they have all been on dead Fae, driven to the point of taking their own life. His shadows burst into a frenzied storm.

Your eyes are fixed somewhere out of the balcony, a glaze to them that tells Azriel you're seeing something different than he can. Softly, as gently as he can, he strides out and Cassian steps back to let him. Azriel steps down onto the balcony beside you, slowly, delicately reaching out to touch you.

You startle, head snapping around to see who's touched you. Except when you drag your gaze up and meet his face, you flinch hard. Azriel feels misery twist deep into his heart, some buried fear within him coming true before his eyes.

You take a step back, stumbling as you do. Then your head turns back out to the balcony—then back to him, back and forth.

"W—What?" You stammer out.

It takes Azriel only one second to realise why, and to feel the agony as he does; you're seeing double.

When you had said he's everything to you, you had truly meant it. He is both your greatest love and... your greatest fear.

Azriel can feel Rhys' arrival somewhere behind him, can even hear Cassian's concerned voice filling him in but his entire focus is locked onto you. You've stumbled back again, falling painfully on your backside, barely catching yourself on your hands but something— someone on the balcony keeps frightening you.

Something in Azriel screams; how can he fight an enemy he cannot see or touch?

He's on his knees before you in an instant. You're beginning to tremble, silent tears on your cheeks and Azriel's heart wails as you look upon him with a face for a fear. He can't tell what you're seeing but he just needs you to see him.

"My love," He says, voice quiet as to not spook you. You whimper at his words and something shrivels up inside Azriel's chest. He continues, noting how your eyes flick rapidly between his face and something over his shoulder. You shuffle back, too hesitant to trust him.

"My love, my moon," He murmurs, gently reaching out for you. His shadows zip forward, soothing along your skin. You flinch back again but Azriel holds strong, nudging forward until he's touching your skin.

You wince and screw your eyes closed and Azriel can feel the fear, the tormented pain that pours down the bond. He can see it now, this close, the seal that's burning against the skin of your neck. A fiercely protectiveness anger burns in his gut and he vows to tear apart whoever did this to you, limb by limb.

"I don't know what you can see," He say, soft as he can. He lifts his other hand and cradles the other side of your face. Your eyes peek open. "But it's not true. None of it."

Your lips are quivering, lashes sparkling with how they catch your tears. Azriel feels sick to his stomach again; he could do a thousand battles with countless weapons but this is something he's entirely powerless against.

"Azriel," Rhys speaks up from behind, voice cautious. Azriel ignores him, his thumbs stroking softly over your face.

"It's not real." He says with more urgency. Your eyes dart over his shoulder again and a whimper slips out your throat, your body tensing. Real, raw pain scratches it's way down the bond.

"Azriel, I can get it off her." Rhys voice again. "You just need to keep her still."

Azriel nods, but doesn't turn, doesn't take his eyes off you for a single moment. His heart squeezes and cracks, a thousand shards littered through his ribcage when you finally speak. Your glassy eyes have lost a little of their glaze, fixed on your mate in front of you with a desperate plea.

"He—" You begin, sucking in a harsh breath. Your breathing is too fast, your heartbeat too. "It- it fucking—it looks just like you."

"It's not." Azriel assures in an instant. He keeps his eyes fixed on yours, trying to be the picture of calm for you even as his heart warbles in agony at your pain. "It's not me."

Your eyes shift over his shoulder again and Azriel moves this time, blocking your view. "Don't. Keep your eyes on me. Look at me."

Silently, Rhys kneels at your side, his violet eyes blazing where they’re fixed on your neck. Undoubtedly, this was not such a personal attack but something to harm the inner circle. As darkness begins to swirl from Rhys' fingers, orbiting the sigil, you begin crying again, fresh tears spilling down your chests as little gasps wrack your frame.

"It—" You gasp, suddenly focusing desperately on Azriel now that you know who's who. "It— gods, it sounds so much like you."

"It might, but it isn't me." Azriel promises. He aches when your hands suddenly shoot up, eyes screwed shut as you clamp your hands down over your ears — like whatever you could hear was causing you physical pain. Rhys mutters something under his breath, his hands still working.

"Eyes on me.” Azriel urges, knowing you can hear him. You whimper and pitch forward, forehead bowing to your knees. His hands fall away as your head begins to give tiny shakes, side to side. His shadows swarm your shoulders, unsure how to help.

“Don’t—“ For the first time, Azriel’s voice falters with a wobble. He tries not to think of the countless warriors who have fallen beneath a sigil this strong and mentally roars at Rhys to move faster. “Listen to me, my love. Listen, listen to my voice, please.”

Your breathes are ragged, staggering inhales as you press your head between your knees. You entire body shakes and Azriel dares to steal a glimpse at the back of your neck — the intricate rune imprinted on your skin shimmering black as it slowly seals.

"Keep," Rhys grits out, his concentration still focused on his power. "her still."

Azriel's hands dart out, already apologising at how he has to force your head out of hiding. You gasp and sob, pulling back to resist but Azriel holds tight, his hands holding your face as tenderly as he can.

He pushes forward, crowding in, until his forehead rests against yours. He summons everything he can within himself, every ounce of devotion he holds for you and send its down the thread in his chest til everything burns white hot.

"Look at me, my love. Show me your eyes. Listen to my voice." Once the silent stoic type, Azriel lets everything that comes to mind fall out his mouth.

Your eyes crease open, flush with tears, and you shudder against him but Azriel feels it. The push back. The press of your skin against his, trying to get closer, trying to get to safety. Rhys curses for a moment, his dark magic still swirling and Azriel resists every urge to howl at him to hurry.

"Tellmetellmetellmetellme," You chant in a whisper, half delirious. You're flicking between his hazel eyes, your hands still half over your ears, body still wracked with quivers.

Tell me. Azriel's soul feels marred at the reveal of what is taunting you and he strokes his thumbs over your cheeks, drawing your attention to him.

"I love you," He says, voice sounding close to wrecked. "I love you and you're mine. I'm yours and you're mine."

You shudder violently, eyes crushing closed, right as Rhys pulls away with an exhausted sigh. It's gone. Azriel hears Rhys' voice in his mind but it's not even needed — not with the way you suddenly slump forward into him, like a puppet with its strings cut.

"It's okay, it's gone," Azriel murmurs lowly, gathering you up in his arms as much as he can. He can feel your body shaking against him, sobs still forcing their way up your throat. His wings wrap around you, an inky cocoon of safety, sealing you off from the world.

"It's gone," He repeats, his arms circling around you. He can feel the pitter-patter of your rabbiting heart, feel the remains of fear that hang around your system. Every cell in his body yearns at this injustice, the fabric of the mating bond sending his protectiveness into overdrive. But more than the urge to hunt and maim whoever harmed you is the overwhelming need to make sure you're safe.

"You're safe now, I swear. It wasn't real." His assurances continue softly, his body instinctively beginning a slow rock to soothe you. You sobs slow to cries, your hands twisted tightly into his sleep-shirt. "I love you. I love you."

By the time your breathing evens out and your hiccuping cries slow, it's some time later. Your face has been buried in Azriel's chest and when you finally dig it out, Azriel's heart disintegrates once more at your blotty skin, your tired eyes.

You don't even have to ask.

"Vesania Sigil." He says quietly, hazel eyes burning into your face.

You can feel his writhing worry through the bond, like a caged tiger, fiery hot and licking at your heels. You give a little sniffle. Open your mouth to speak and find not one word in your throat.

Azriel's moving deftly before you can think, his strong arm looping beneath your knees to scoop up you against his chest. You let yourself be coddled, thankful to the way he curls himself around you entirely, wings hiding your view — only a flash on the ceiling to be seen. You're not sure you can face the others just yet.

The door your bedroom opens as he nears and Azriel kneels on the edge of the bed, his strong thighs maneuvering you both up til he's rested up against the headboard. Pure exhaustion like nothing you've felt before creeps up from within you.

Yet even so, you feel your heart twinge. It's been chafed raw today. Your hands slither and squirm, til they're wrapped tight around Azriel's middle and he hums protectively, his wing draping over you like a blanket.

For a moment, there is only weary, tired silence.

"Tell me?" You ask in a whisper, your voice so, so small. Azriel aches at the pain in your voice, sending every assurance down the golden thread between you.

"You're mine," He says, voice hushed and yet doused in his love.

"I'm yours." You echo, voice a little stronger than before. He can feel the way you tug on the bond, as if checking its still secure— still unbreakable. "And you're mine?"

Azriel folds himself even closer and tugs back on the bond strongly. His scarred hand glides up to bury itself in your hair, massaging slow and sweet. His nose nuzzles in against your hairline, his lips pressing a kiss wherever they find skin.

"And I'm yours." He agrees.

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #praying 2 the tumblr gods.... put it in the tag pleek

1K notes · View notes

historiaxvanserra · 6 months

Text

Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of

Pairing: SingleDad!Rhys x Reader

Summary: After his mate and the mother of his son abandons them, The High Lord and Nyx are left alone and wanting.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: allusions to sexual assault, allusions to depression, abandonment, broken homes (y'know keeping it light, in all seriousness this is not all angst it's quite sweet actually).

The sky is painted in hues of lavender and mauve and the flowering ivory clouds shade Velaris in a perpetual state of dusk. The silvery light of the waxing moon seems to cast you in a gentle opal light as you approach the opulent manor. The High Lord’s townhouse is nestled in the heart of the city of starlight and wreathed in the colors of twilight; a slate facade that looks as though it is crowned in green, climbing ivy and night-blooming jasmine frame the large bay windows on the ground floor. From here you can see the large stained-glass window on the top floor, light refracts and it casts a myriad of dancing light onto the stone below-- dappled pinks and roses that fracture and give way to amethyst and indigo.

You spare a look to your aged companion as she breaches the threshold of the High Lord’s residence and, on unsteady feet, approaches the ornate wooden door and knocks thrice.

You remain for a moment a solitary figure at the entryway of the property, contemplating the series of events that led you here. Mother above, you chastise yourself. The thought occurs to you then, that perhaps you had made a mistake in coming here; that you should have given yourself more time, that you should have remained in the quiet solitude of the library where the world seems like a bitter memory.

“Come, girl.” Madja’s voice is tired and impatient as she beckons you closer with the wave of a crooked finger. “Don’t just stand there.”

You swallow thickly, bowing your head in obedience and you notice how her eyes soften as you approach the door tentatively.

“Nervous?” the old woman asks, you feel her eyes on you-- examining and critical.

“A little,” You admit, eyes downcast as you loose a shaky breath, “I haven’t left the library besides for training in quite some time.”

You stare down at the sleeves of your faded pewter robes as they billow in the evening breeze; the silver embroidery around the cuffs has begun to fray and the layers of fabric gather about your waist, the pleats have been poorly ironed and the heavy fabric falls over the curve of your hip haphazardly and pools to the floor in a swathe of heavy cotton. Shame pools in your stomach at the sight of your slippers as they peek out from the skirts of your robe.

It’s about time you asked Clotho for a new set of robes you think.

“You’ve met him before, no?” Madja’s voice breaks the tenuous peace you have found in those moments. You look up at her and a deep set frown graces her weathered face, “when you first came to Velaris?”

The visions fall on you like night; the Moonstone Palace saturated in onyx and jade, the reflections of your face in the marble of the throne room floor, the sentries as they dragged you before the High Council. The sounds of your screams and a sea of rubies and pearls as the bodice of your dress is torn away from your heaving chest-- all that red. Terrible and red.

Hewn City had always been cruel to you. You, a useless daughter to an ambitious man. The dreams are less vivid now but the sound of footsteps on marble still haunts you.

“Yes, it was him who brought me to Velaris-- after-afterwards,” You acquiesce to her questioning, eyes set on the light beyond the frosted glass panes of the onyx doorway, “though I doubt he remembers.”

Your avenging angel.

Madja looks at you carefully, taking account of you before she nods to you in silent acknowledgement.

The door to the High Lords townhouse opens with a flourish to reveal Morrigan. She’s more beautiful than you remember, radiant even as the dark shadows of sleep cling to her. Her golden hair hangs in loose waves over the delicate curve of her shoulder and though the deep umber of her eyes meets yours in a warm inviting stare as she utters your name.

She knows your name.

“Come on in from the cold.” she beckons you with the curve of a slender hand. You smile politely as you cross the threshold of the house. The wards fall away as you pass through into the foyer and the smell of mandarin and night blooming jasmine flood your senses.

The foyer to the townhouse is truly beautiful; a testament to the fine artistry and craftsmanship that seemed to define Velaris’ art district. The walls are paneled wood, painted in a shade of twilight that can only be found here, in The Night Court, and the burgundy carpet so rich in color that it reminds you of a blood moon, the oil paintings that hang on the walls seem to exude an air of majesty unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

In this room night reigns triumphant and you behold it all with a sense of wonder and awe. A careful deference to the love and care contained between these walls. It is a home that has been truly cherished by the people that live here.

“Did Madja tell you why you had been summoned here?” Morrigan’s voice is soft and sweet and the feeling of her hand on your robed arm pulls you from your thoughts.

“Sorry - I - uh” I stutter, glancing between her hand on my arm and the unyielding warmth of her gaze. “No she didn’t, only that there was a position in the High Lord’s household that Clotho recommended me for.”

“It was my recommendation actually,” Morrigan smiles proudly, letting her hand drop to her side idly. “Clotho just happened to agree.” The words leave her lips with the ghost of a smirk as she recalls the conversation between her and the High Priestess.

The last time you had spoken to Morrigan would have been in Hewn City, all those years ago. You abandon yourself to those days; when you had been the cursed daughter of a capricious Lord. The girl you were died under that mountain. The woman that stands in her place had been forged of blood, and splintered bone-- made strong by violence and tempered by time.

You nod solemnly and cast a glance to Madja who watches on in quiet curiosity.

“Rhys is upstairs,” Morrigan says softly to you both, gesturing up the staircase to the upper level of the house, “I’ll fetch him down”.

You notice then how troubled Mor looks. The rings around her eyes are pale purple and blue and her skin, once radiant, has become pale and sallow. She begins her ascent up the stairs with a small wave of her hand signaling Madja to follow. From here you can see a singular light that pierces through the blanket of the dark that shrouds the upper levels of the house.

Mor regards you once more as Madja passes her on the stairs and points towards the ornate door that leads to the antechamber at the heart of the house. “Go on in, we won’t be a moment.” In a flourish of golden blonde hair and crimson Morrigan winnows away and leaves you to linger in the foyer for a quiet moment.

The smell of cherries and marigold shades the air in her absence.

Voices, disembodied and distant from the upper levels of the house draw you into the heart of the house.

The antechamber of the High Lords townhouse is a beautiful living room, plunged into near darkness spare the slivers of jade light that dapple the dark walls from the emerald chandelier, even in the darkness you can make out the dark marble of the hearth that is draped with moonflowers and ivy. The low backed chairs are elegant and worn from use and there are books strewn about the room and a small library contained neatly in the alcove.

Your eyes find the painting hung above the hearth; immortalized on oil and canvas the High Lord of Night and his Lady. The High Lord is painted in a deep navy tunic and the silver paint mimics the delicate embroidery favored by the Velarian tailors in The Rainbow. His violet eyes shine bright against the dark.

He is a thing of dark beauty, you think.

In this light, his High Lady looks as though she is wreathed in starlight as smiles down on the antechamber from her place above the hearth. You observe the pointed curve of her nose and the upturn of her cerulean eyes and something aching and jealous festers in you at the sight of her beauty.

Otherworldly and ethereal.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The low tenor of a man calls out from the darkness of the room, the voice is measured and devoid of any emotion as it permeates the dark. The male cuts an intimidating figure in the low light and all thought and sound eddies from your mind. You’re sure the sound of your heart like an echoing war drum is loud enough to shake the mountains as he takes a step towards you.

“High Lord?” you question. He steps further into the light and you regard him pensively; his skin is pallid and his eyes are ringed with dark circles of amethyst that trouble you. His onyx hair is left tousled and the ends have grown long enough to curl away from the harsh lines of his face. The sharp junction of his jaw has become obscured by the smatterings of coarse, black hair that grow there.

Even still, even in the unforgiving jade light, he is the most beautiful male you have ever seen. He smells of night blooming jasmine and violets undercut with something inherently masculine. Pine and whiskey perhaps.

His presence is something truly captivating; dark and intoxicating. When he looks at you there is only dark in those violet eyes.

The High Lord sinks into the worn armchair by the hearth with a deep sigh and for a moment he allows his eyes to flutter closed as he breathes deeply and all you can do is surrender yourself to that dark magnetism. The dying fire in the hearth warms him and in this light you notice the golden hues of his skin and the dark inky trails tattooed across the planes of his chest where his shirt opens.

“You’re staring--” The High Lord’s violet eyes falls onto you. In those liminal spaces between the seconds, when he is looking at you, all ceases to be. You tilt your chin downwards, hoping to avert his gaze, as you offer him a courteous bow.

“My apologies High L-” the apology is cut off by the High Lords gentle protests. None of that, Love.

You pray to the mother that he doesn’t notice the flush along the tops of your cheeks or the wild fluttering of your heart at the pet name.

“Sit down,” The High Lord gestures simply to the seat across from him by the hearth and his whole demeanor is somehow softer when you deign to look at him again. Wordlessly you comply with his request, a careful hand runs down the length of your robes to smooth out the lazy pleats in the skirt as they fan out around you in the low backed chair and while you don’t dare to meet his eyes directly you can feel him looking at you.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologizes though his voice is distant, despondent even and his eyes find the painting that looms over the hearth. “The portrait-- It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He muses, tipping the rim of his whiskey glass towards the portrait.

“Very beautiful, High Lord.” you agree, smoothing the heavy material of your robes again. He watches you then with a curious glint in his eyes and he takes a few moments to assess you.

“Just Rhysand will do,” He smiles lightly, though there's a sense of apprehension as he regards you playing with the threads of your sleeves for the third time in so many moments, “there’s no need for such formalities when it’s just the two of us.”

“No of course not,” You agree and look at him through thick lashes and offer him a small smile in return, “forgive me, I’m--” you extend a hand to him over the small end table between the arm chairs and he takes it in earnest shaking it lightly. A calloused pad of his thumb rubs an absentminded circle into the skin of your hand before he brings your hand, trembling and slender, to the sulk of his lips and places a chaste kiss against the knuckles.

“I know who you are, Priestess,” he says lightly-- playfully. You offer him a polite laugh in return and nod your head again.

Something dark burns in his eyes in those moments; silver and violet. Like the darkness between the stars. He smiles to himself then, a soft beautiful thing. A secret shared between him and the dying light in the hearth as he picks at an errant threat on the stitching of his shirt.

“Why am I here, Rhysand?” You ask, inhaling deeply, hoping that his answer might assuage the anxiety that has been coiling in your stomach all afternoon. The door to the antechamber opens then and light, golden and radiant spills into the room all at once. The radiant light reveals the room to you fully, you observe the emerald velvet chairs and the dark wood furnishings, the landscapes hung on the walls and the rare manuscripts and novels bound all in black that line the walls.

This house is something truly breathtaking.

It feels like a home you realize.

“There you are!” Morrigan's velvet voice smothers the morose tension in the room as she comes into view. She’s since shed the tiredness that plagued her before and you notice the way her hair frames her face like a halo of gold in the soft ochre light. In her arms, swaddled in sapphire spider silk, is the High Lord’s son.

“We were beginning to wonder where you had gone.” Mor coos at the bundle in her arms as she approaches Rhysand who takes the babe in his strong arms.

As if he could get any more beautiful-- the man looks as though he was carved by The Mother.

It’s wrong, you know. He is your High Lord and you are…

The cursed daughter of a capricious Lord, you remind yourself.

Rhysand glances at me hesitantly and I meet his eyes briefly before focusing on the babe in his arms. He’s since broken loose from the swaddling and his chubby fist clutches at his fathers shirt. I can just see the top of his little head, it's all tufts of curly blue-black hair and pointed pink ears. You smile fondly to yourself as he continues to wriggle in his father’s grasp.

Gods, it’s been so long since you had smiled that wide without the feeling of guilt that usually attends it.

“You used to be a governess, didn’t you?” Mor says by way of explanation for your summons. To her credit her smile never falters even as your demeanor hardens against her, “Clotho said you had talked about it a few times.”

“Yes. I was,” You admit swallowing thickly, your voice comes out strained like the words themselves pain you to speak, “that was a long time ago though.”

That had been long before him.

You must have only been a youngling yourself. You had been happy-- that much you remember. Those were the happy recollections of your old life; summers spent under the opal lights of The Moonstone place, children’s laughter like birdsong that breaks apart in the humid air as you danced and sang long into the nights. Of dark autumns and smoky air, a bonfire and a small hand that holds your own with such gentle reverence.

“Clotho said you wanted to leave the Library?” Rhysand questions you, his eyes are dark and filled with a thinly veiled darkness that draws you into their depths as you speak to him without pretense.

“I do,” You answer him honestly, your voice wavering only a little, “I don’t want to spend my days rotting in the depths of that House.”

Rhysand considers it carefully and his face twists into a pained expression that almost breaks your resolve. You hadn’t meant to hurt him-- never. But you’re done hiding in the dark.

The world is a cruel place and full of cruel men. It always had been and it always will be. There is nought you can do to change that. So why should you cower from the world any longer?

You want to live.

The whining of the restless babe in Rhys’ arms rouses your attention and something akin to longing gathers in your chest as you regard him. You pull a lip between your teeth as he fusses and Rhysand struggles to soothe him. The babe looses a cry that comes out as a pitiful howl and you can feel a small ripple of power permeate the air.

“May I hold him?” The words take everyone in the room by surprise and the High Lord only nods easily and stands to pass the babe into your arms.

“I’m grateful,” You continue as Rhysand stands before you and transfers his son’s weight into the crook of your arm, “To you and your court for providing me, and girls like me with somewhere to heal but--”

“But you weren’t meant to cower in the darkness of the library forever.” Rhysand’s words come out as little more than a whisper and the feeling of his warm breath on your skin is something entirely perverse.

You shake your head, mouthing an inaudible ‘no’ before lowering yourself back into the chair by the hearth, hoping to hide the rosy blush that spreads across your cheeks. Rhys doesn’t retreat back into his armchair like you had thought he might and instead sinks to his knees before you and allows one of his son's fists to wrap around his ring finger. The babe seems to quieten then in your arms as he nuzzles against your chest, one balled first clinging to his father and the other pulling at the neckline of your robes and he smiles sleepily in your arms.

Looking at him now you are overcome with the realization of the absence that had stained this family’s happiness. Rhysand had given himself completely to a woman who had changed her mind. And their son-- their son; all cherub cheeked and big blue eyes framed with dark lashes-- had been abandoned by the woman who was supposed to love him without condition. Before the ghost of her had been an abstract thing. Something intangible and errant, a whisper or a memory, but now, as you look between the babe in your arms and the woman immortalized about the hearth you feel nothing but biting fury. A dangerous wrath only tempered by the stilling of the High Lord beside you.

It is Morrigan’s movement at the side of the room that rouses you from thought. “Then perhaps we can come to an arrangement?” The smile that graces her lips is brilliant and calculating and the sparkle in those umber eyes tells you she is genuine in his intentions.

“An arrangement?” You ask hesitantly, raising one arched brow to her.

“Yes.” The High Lord nods in agreement as Morrigan approaches you all casually, sauntering over to snatch a glass of wine from the decanter, “you’re free to leave the Library at any time but--”

“Help me take care of Nyx,” The High Lord beats you to it, his voice is soft and gentle and one of his fingers runs along the curve of Nyx’s ear as he begins to doze in your arms.

“High Lor-” You start, and you’re torn between declining outright and trying to dissuade them altogether, “Mor, I haven’t cared for a babe in well over 60 years.”

“Listen to me,” Rhysand’s violet gaze is unyielding and when you can no longer avert his gaze he takes on of your hands in his own and all but pleads with you, “take care of Nyx, for one year-- just until I get used to doing it on my own-- just until he starts his pre-schooling.”

The thought of him raising his son all alone pains you, a physical, bone deep ache that settles over you. You mourn for him then, for the love he thought he had, for all that he lost and then you mourn for the babe in your arms. For the son who will grow up without knowing his mother’s love. The High Lord looks at you through dark lashes and you note the tiredness in his eyes and the desperate sadness that seems to radiate from him these days and yet, he smile softly at you. As one might smile at something lovely and precious.

“And in return?” You ask peering down at him with sympathetic eyes when his whole body goes lax.

“I’ll help you get set up somewhere-- anywhere you want.” The words come quickly and if you were a cruel woman you would see what more he would offer you. But when he’s looking at you like you might just be his last hope you can’t find it in you to do anything but allow yourself to be persuaded by him.

You see a home; a cottage maybe, made of ancient stone and covered with climing ivy and jasmine. On the outskirts of Velaris, away from the artisans and market stalls of the main square, but close enough that you never feel truly alone. A home and it smells of mandarin and moonflowers, the sound of children laughing, and a garden blooming with violets in the garden in the leonine yellow heat of high summer. You smile wistfully and you swear you feel the gentle caress of a hand in your mind's eye.

“You can live here with us in the meantime” Rhysand continues gesturing to the house around you.

It’s warm and inviting and your body sings in response to the prospect.

“I don’t think that's a good--”

“Just until you find somewhere of your own.” He assures you standing to his full height before you. He casts a morose glance to the portrait that hangs about the hearth and you can see the moment his violet eyes meet painted cerulean.

“Rhys--” You warn gently.

“Please,” He turns to you again and the desperation in his tone has you yielding to him further, a gentle sweep over your face before settling on the sleeping babe in your arms, “please.” He repeats it once more and you swear your heart breaks just a little bit for him.

He had saved you once, you think. You had only been a girl then but you remember looking at him in that light; he looked like the shadow of some dark winged God-- avenging and angelic.

Perhaps this time the girl can save the God.

“A bargain then.” You muse lightly holding out a pinky finger to him.

Rhysand huffs out a laugh and curls his finger around your own. Nyx’s hand seems to flex in response, his own tiny pinky finger outstretched in agreement.

“A bargain.” With the simple confirmation you feel the gentle burn of a promise as it kisses its way up your wrist, and you see Rhysand’s own inky sigil as it glows faintly on the skin of his outstretched arm.

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhys x you #rhys x y/n #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand acotar #rhysand imagine #rhys acotar #rhys fanfic #rhysand headcanons

1K notes · View notes

jamminvroomvroom · 7 months

Text

our secret moments.

ln x fem!reader // childhood friend to lovers

in which you’re friends. best friends. but then you buy a dress for him to take off.

this one is for you guys. thank you for inspiring this, my beloved dress anons. i hope you guys love this as much as i do, and that i got it right for you! obsessed with the concepts and brain rot that went into this aaaaaaa lemme know what you think i beg <3 also sorry if the formatting gets weird, trying out smau elements again :D

songs to set the mood: DRESS by taylor swift

warnings: 18+!! minors dni! smut, oblivious friends to lovers, fluff, minor angst, mutual pining, general sex acts, language, an argument

5.6k words

your dress sparkles like a mirrorball as the lights flash along the strip.

vegas week begins with a bang; it’s the night of lando’s 24th birthday. the name of your dad’s company is plastered all over the city, as it usually is wherever there’s a race weekend. a round of golf leads to dinner plans and you get dressed up nice with your girlfriends.

you’re almost ready when lando texts you, your friends giving you a look that you brush off when they see the papaya heart next to his name. you tell him you’ll all be ready soon, that’ll you meet him and the boys in the lobby.

high heels sound against the marble floor of the hotel. you walk confidently, tall, scanning for the group of men you’ll be spending the evening with. you spot max fewtrell first, your dear friend here for the occasion, and then ash, who has his back to you. it’s because he’s talking to lando, your best friend, the man that made you fly in to sin city a week earlier than you would have liked.

he’s looking at you before you even see him, watching you walk towards him over ash’s shoulder. he’s checked out from the conversation the second he spots you, glittering under the chandeliers. he can’t breathe, because you’re wearing a dress that renders him somewhere between life and death.

but you’re getting closer, and max, who can see the look on lando’s awestruck face, nudges him so hard in the ribs. he forces himself to inhale, smile, keep breathing.

“good evening, mr norris.” you grin, squeezing his shoulder. “we starting with slots or drinks?”

both is the agreed upon answer, and you let loose in the casino. you watch him roll the dice at one of the game tables, and suddenly, you’re twelve years old again, playing board games on the floor of a hotel room, while your dads talk at the bar downstairs.

your father is, perhaps, the worlds biggest motorsport fan. he’d been sponsoring different series’ since you were little, and he hadn’t stopped expanding as you’d gotten older. that’s how you’d met lando, aged ten years old with braids in your hair, covered in mud, somewhere in the english countryside. you’d been going to kart races since you could walk, and you were sure from the first time you spoke to the small british boy that you’d be destined to meet him. he’d left a mark on you that day, something golden; he radiated sunshine.

your friendship flowed like wine over the years, nice and easy. time on the road with your father meant that lando was the friend you saw the most, and it stayed that way throughout your teenage years. lando’s step up into formula 1 was paired very well with your dad’s investment into mclaren, and five years later, you rarely missed a race.

lando was so easy to be friends with that it was only natural that he was just as easy to love. platonically. you loved him platonically. it was easy to have late night dinner’s with him in his hotel room, easy to walk around the cities you visited with him until your legs hurt, easy to fall asleep on his bed after a netflix binge. so when he told you to pack your bags and be in vegas, it was like he’d pulled an invisible string, because of course, that’s where you would be.

your friend is waving her hand in front of your face when you finally snap out of it. you’ve been staring across the room for god knows how long, and now the girls are laughing at you.

okay, so maybe it’s not just platonically, but you’d rather die than admit it.

“still gonna tell us there’s nothing between you?” nancy, one of your closest friends, teases. your other friend, mia, is giggling beside her. they’d both flown out for the race as well, and had spent the last two years helplessly watching you fall harder and faster.

“shut up,” you whine. “he’s my-“

“best friend.” they both cut you off in unison, mockingly. nancy rolls her eyes.

“he is!” you protest, waving them off.

you leave them in the dust to join the lads at the table. lando’s arm is draped over your shoulder the second you arrive.

“lost your millions yet?” you whisper into his ear. he tuts in response, knowing grin on his face.

“you have no faith in me, honey.” he bumped your hip with his as he spoke.

the game continues, and somehow, much to your surpise, lando gets richer. the walk from the casino to the club is short, and soon enough, you’re drunk and sweating under strobe lights. rounds and rounds of shots disappear and you sink deeper and deeper into the booth you’d reserved.

you let the music thrum through your body, closing your eyes in contentment. a knee nudges yours, and you open your eyes to see lando sliding into the booth next to you. he hands you a drink, and you mouth him a thank you.

“got your eye on anyone here?” lando’s head is resting in the crook of your neck when he asks. it’s obviously just so that you can hear him.

you pull back from him, scanning his face for a moment, really taking him in. the slope of his nose, curls matted on his forehead, grey blue eyes that you swear flit to your lips for just a second. just a brief second. you smile, soft and tired.

“nope.” you mouth back to him. “you?”

lando returns your smile, mirroring you perfectly. he shakes his head.

it’s around 3:30am when you crave the sweet release of sleep. your feet are aching and your head is throbbing. no questions are asked when lando offers you a piggyback ride.

you ignore the way your friends look at you both when he carries you up to your room.

youruser just posted on instagram

liked by: landonorris, yourfriendnancy, yourfriendmia, maxfewtrell and 378,654 others

youruser: sin city for nozza’s birthday

user: are they together?

otheruser: mother?

landonorris: lost millions.

user2: the photo of the dress next to the photos of lando? she’s tryna tell us something i think.

and 444 other comments

you ignore the nausea pooling in the pit of your belly.

apparently, the medical centre isn’t that far away when you sprint there. harsh fluorescent lights greet you when you burst through the door, searching for a mop of curls and a burst of orange. your eyes find adam, lando’s dad, and you rush to his side.

“is he okay?” something about the fear in your eyes makes adam crack a smile. it seems there’s no hiding how you feel from anyone except lando.

“they’re just checking him over now, think they might take him to the hospital, just to be safe.” adam explains. “he was asking for you.” he smiles again.

“so it’s just precautionary?” you ignore the last bit. you ignore the way it makes your stomach twist and your brain fight to keep a smile off of your face.

“you can see him, if you want.” adam gestures towards the nearest examination room.

you’re gone before he can say anything more, bursting into the room without even thinking of knocking.

lando’s pretty much stoned. god knows what they gave him but it seems to be working; he’s propped up on the bed, cracks a sleepy smile when he sees you.

“hey, pretty girl.” he drawls, waving slowly. you pray you’re not blushing.

“scared me out there, you prick.” you joke, but your voice shakes.

“c’mere.” he frowns, so you walk around his bed. he slaps the small spot next to him clumsily, and you perch on the edge of the bed.

lando grabs your hand, pulling you in closer, eyelids drooping as he does it.

“i’m sorry, honey. always wanna race well for you.” lando is pouting. he’s fucking pouting at you.

“hey, hey, it’s fine! as long as you’re okay.”

he nods like a child being told off, but he doesn’t drop your hand. he doesn’t drop it in the helicopter to the hospital, either.

youruser just posted on instagram

liked by: landonorris, ashjbibby, yourfriendnancy and 344,555 others

youruser: alls well that ends well (but i’m in a new hell every time you go to the hospital)

landonorris: whoops?

user1: THE TAYLOR LYRICS HELLO?

user44: do y’all think we can’t see you.

user2: 3RD SLIDE HELLO?

yourfriendnancy: anyway. the dress ate.

otheruser: @ yourfriendnancy WHAT DO YOU KNOW

and 567 other comments

“i just don’t get why you keep wearing the fucking shoes if they hurt so much.” lando bumps your shoulder with his, teasing you.

“sometimes you do what you gotta do for the ‘fit.” you huff, trying to keep up with him.

you’re on your way to dinner with lando, marking your first night in dubai. the restaurant isn’t too far, but your shoes are simply not cooperating. you’d left lando to book a table, knowing that a name drop from him would mean good food and not too many people there to watch you both eat it. after vegas, the rumour mill was working overtime, and you’d had a headache for two days as a result.

none of your other friends have arrived in the emirates yet, so it leaves just the two of you to hang out. it’s something you usually love to do, but after the whirlwind of the last few days, it makes your tummy twist.

you can’t stop thinking about the hospital, your hand in his, the way he’d demanded you accompany him despite the presence of his literal father. you absolutely can’t stop thinking about “pretty girl” or the lazy smile on his face when he said it, like it was what he always called you. he usually sticks to honey, not the most platonic thing in the world, but he said it once and it just stuck.

you’re pulled out of your downward spiral by the way he suddenly comes to a stop in the middle of the pavement. you look at him confused, but then he’s making a suggestion that makes you want to lay done in front of an oncoming ferrari.

“want me to carry your shoes? you can put them on right before we go in.” lando shrugs. you must be blushing by the way he fights off a smile.

“lando, i cannot walk down the streets of dubai shoeless.” you scowl. he chuckles.

“says who? give ‘em here. you can wear mine if you want.” lando reasons, and after staring at him likes he’s grown a second head, you cave.

you start to crouch down but he beats you to it. your breath hitches in your throat when his fingers graze your ankle. you watch in shocked silence as he undoes each clasp, letting you step out of the shoes. the pavement is relatively cool under your feet, and it snaps you out of your state. you decline his offer of his own shoes, and he’s started walking again when you stop him.

“lando, why are you doing this?”

“you took good care of me last weekend. least i can do.” he tells you, and you nod once. “c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he ushers you along and you walk the rest of the way in silence, silver heels swinging in his hand.

youruser just posted on instagram

liked by: landonorris, maxfewtrell, yourfriendmia and 332,211 others

youruser: dinner w bestie

user: lando took this. bet.

user3: her other friends aren’t in abu dhabi yet she has to be with lando

landonorris: how was dinner?

youruser: @ landonorris u tell me.

user4: a date if i ever saw one?

user63: are we sure they’re not just friends?

user4: @ user63 girl. be so fr

and 329 other comments

the restaurant is licensed, so you find solace in a glass of white wine. lando sticks to water.

your mains arrive and you natter back and forth, discussing the end of the season and any gossip you may have acquired. you barely stop laughing, head thrown back every time he opens his mouth. it feels easy again, and you find yourself thawing out, previous worries shoved to the back of your mind.

“so what’s next year looking like? last year of your degree.” lando wiggles his eyebrows, wearing a hint of pride on his face.

“might have to stay away from race tracks for a while. it’s gonna be a busy year.” you sigh. his face obviously falls.

“how long is a while? need my cheerleader.” it’s said in jest, but desperation lies in the outskirts of his voice.

“until the summer break.” you frown. you’d gotten far too comfortable studying on the road.

“can’t you continue as you are? i’m gonna mis- your dad will miss you.” lando corrects himself and your fork clatters against your plate.

“can’t get rid of me too easily, norris.” you clean up the awkward mess before it can even become one, returning to the lighter side of the conversation.

“trust me, i’m not trying to.” he flirts. in jest.

you roll your eyes and gulp down wine.

youruser just posted on instagram

liked by: landonorris, abudhabigp, yourfriendmia and 543,288 others

youruser: new heights n pretty lights

user2: i know who took 3/4 of these pics.

landonorris: i want that hat back btw

user6: she is the moment

user: mommy? huh who said that?

and 588 other comments

lando.jpg just posted on instagram

liked by: youruser, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 645,321 others

lando.jpg: from the road

oscarpiastri: violation.

youruser: can u send me these. especially the one of oscar :)

user4: WAIT didn’t she post the second one a while? LANDO TOOK IT?

user81: oscar 😭😭

maxfewtrell: why don’t you take nice pictures of me like this?

user11: the wags are fighting omg

and 799 other comments

your back is to his chest and the music is unbearable. it doesn’t stop you from swaying your hips against his.

nothing beats the abu dhabi grand prix’s after party.

lando stays p6 in the championship, but it’s only by one stupid point. celebration is certainly called for, and you bask in the freedom of the season ending.

you don’t even want to think about the way he hugged you when he got out of the damn car.

so you don’t. you drink and you dance and you beg for someone else to try and take you home so that you can avoid him. you’re scared, fucking terrified, and avoiding him seems like the best option.

that’s until he finds you in the sea of people, because of course he does, and you get closer, closer, closer, until there’s no room for god and his hands are on your hips.

it feels too fucking good to stop, you can’t even compute pulling away, so you let yourself go. what’s the point in trying to hide the way you feel when he’s holding you against his crotch? ah, yes. a cornerstone of friendship.

but it’s too hot and it’s too bright and it’s too loud and the anxiety hits. it hits and you can’t stop the way you freeze up against him. you’re sick to death of pretending. you’re sick to death of nights like this one repeating themselves far too often, only to wake up in the morning and act like it means nothing. like the way he holds you and looks at you and touches you means nothing.

no matter how drunk he is, no matter how far gone he is, he knows you too damn well. he’s spinning you around in his arms and pulling you through the hoards of people.

cool air lands on your flushed skin and you realise you’re in the smoking area. lando looks wrecked, but he’s watching you as intently as he can manage.

“you okay, honey? want me to take you home?” he’s rubbing your arm as he speaks and tears well in your eyes. you’re not entirely sure why.

“stay, i don’t wanna ruin your night.” you croak. you need to get out of there immediately.

“no, no, no, you’re my priority, i’ll call us a driver and w-“

“stop it, lando. i can go back to the hotel alone.” he looks bewildered, and you don’t blame him. you sound harsh, way too harsh considering what he’d offered.

“i should take you.” he replies quietly and you feel bad.

great, now you are crying.

“just- i don’t want this to change, i don’t want us to change and if you keep on like this-“

alas, everything changes, then. every unsaid word is fair game and neither of you are holding back. the shots you’ve thrown back fuel an explosion.

“if i keep on like this? what, you think i don’t see the way you look at me?” lando’s words hit like venom and you’re white hot with embarrassment.

fiery despair hits you and you’re bound to regret every word when you’re sober and sane.

“at least i don’t fuck with your head.”*

“you think that doesn’t fuck with my head? the one woman i- fuck, you know what? it doesn’t matter.” he bites his tongue but you most certainly don’t.

“what? what, lando? as if the way i look at you compares to carrying my shoes and putting me to bed and calling me pretty and every other thing that you do to drive me up the fucking wall.” you spit.

your tears burn your cheeks, you’ve always been an angry crier, and they fall faster when he practically deflates and turns away, disappearing into the club.

you make your getaway, your father’s assistant sends you a car.

you cry yourself to sleep in your hotel room, watching the orange sun rise.

the flight home is quiet.

your plans to fly home with lando are abandoned, and you board the earliest flight available.

you never fight with him, so you don’t know how to proceed. everything had changed in a matter of words and you ignore the lump in your throat when you land in miserable, rainy london alone.

you’re surprised to see your dad’s blacked out range rover waiting for you when you get through customs. he’d been on the first flight out of the emirates as soon as the race had finished, and you assumed he’d be asleep for at least a day or two. the man never rests during the season, from the minute the lights go out in bahrain, until the flag falls in abu dhabi. then, he biblically crashes, the excitement and adrenaline hibernating until next year. average behaviour for the world’s biggest motorsport fan.

he’s out the car and opening the boot for you before you even reach him, and he’s pulling you into his fatherly embrace when you finally do. you let out a shaky breath, having been in desperate need of a hug.

“hey, kid.” he mutters into your ear. maybe it’s good to be home.

“what are you doing here?” you ask from the passenger seat, once all of your luggage is packed into the car.

your dad sighs, turning to look at you. you groan, thudding your head against the headrest. you know that look, the one that precedes a motivational speech, a bit of tough love, and usually very sound advice that you never ask for.

“lando called me.” he deadpans. they’d grown somewhat annoyingly close over the years.

“fantastic.” you reply, sarcasm as clear as day.

“he was beside himself. told me what happened.” your dad says softly and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“it’s so, so fine. i don’t wanna talk about this.” your voice trembles and you don’t have the energy to cry anymore.

“there’s nothing wrong with telling him how you feel, sweetheart. don’t throw something away because you’re scared.” and, here we go… you think.

“i can’t lose him.” you whisper, furiously wiping away the stray tears that fall, staring out the window.

“you won’t lose him if you tell him. trust me, kid. we all see how that boy adores you. no father ever thinks a guy is good enough for their girl, but lando comes pretty damn close.”

“i don’t even know where to begin.” you rub your temples, battling the tension headache you’d developed sometime the night before.

“well, start thinking. you’ve got a week.” you can see your dad smirking from the corner of your eye.

“what?” you blurt, blindsided. you’d need more than a fucking week.

“end of year gala, kid. pick a dress.”

fuck.

youruser just posted on instagram

liked by: maxfewtrell, mclaren, yourfriendmia and 442,689 others

youruser: commotion for the dress?

yourfriendmia: *commotion*

user5: on my knees begging

user1: no lando like? divorce? 😟

mclaren: always good to see you! 🧡

yourfriendnancy: kicking my feet looking at this lord have mercy

and 504 other comments

you’re glowing, draped in champagne pink silk.

from the other side of the room, you watch lando, and he watches you. it’s like a game, who’s gonna break first? who’s going to extend the olive branch?

he looks so pretty in his suit that you would cry if there were any tears left in you, if you hadn’t purged them all out of frustration and longing in the week of radio silence.

you’re nursing a glass of champagne, waiting for dinner to start. the room is full of rich people with big ideas, icons of the racing world, both past and present. you make small talk with oscar and his girlfriend, exchange pleasantries with your father’s many friends, and beg that lando makes the first move.

the clinking against a glass indicates that dinner is ready to be served, and you scan the tables for your place card. apparently, the event coordinator has a vendetta against you, because scrawled in deep orange cursive on the place card next to yours is mr lando norris. you scan the room for the nearest exit. your grand scheme to flee in a floor length gown and too high heels is interrupted by the sound of your chair scraping out next to you.

you feel a ghost of breath against your bare shoulder. curls tickle your skin and then, a head rests in the crook of your neck.

he says your name, and the world stops for a second.

“i’m sorry.” lando whispers in your ear, and your heart falls to your stomach.

you whip around, holding him tight as you wrap your arms around him. the tension plaguing your body since abu dhabi dissipates in seconds.

“don’t apologise. just… i missed you.” you sigh.

“you look… fuck. you’re gorgeous.” he breathes in your ear. one hand skims low over your waist. something inside of you explodes.

you don’t even try to fight the blush that tinges your cheeks.

someone important is trying to make a toast, so you take your seats. you’re not listening to a word being said, though. you just smile at lando, and lando smiles back.

you’re gonna tell him, you decide. he has to know, although you suspect he already does; you can’t imagine another day without the privilege of him looking at you the way he is right now.

dinner is a breeze. you eat, drink, laugh at the stories exchanged. you remember why you love this world you were raised in, and find yourself grinning mindlessly at your father as he rattles off yet another wild tale from your travels. you’re lucky, you know you are, and it’s reaffirmed when the man sat beside you - who you think you love a bit more than platonically - drapes his arm over the back of your chair.

plates are cleared away and a band starts their set on the makeshift stage. the mtc is lit so beautifully, fairy lights twinkle above you casting dainty light over the makeshift dance floor.

“dance with me.” lando requests. he hates to dance at these functions, so you know the request comes from the heart.

“lead the way.”

he takes your hand and you make your way onto the floor, which is slowly filling up with other couples. his hold is firm, yet gentle, and you lean into him as he keeps you close. eventually, your ear is to his chest, and you can hear his heart hammering away. you melt further into him as the song plays out, and you wish it would play forever.

“we gonna talk about it?” lando murmurs, just loud enough over the music.

“we are.” you mumble against the lapel of his jacket.

“come home with me.”

you nod, inhaling the scent of his cologne; god, how you missed every little part of him.

you keep dancing and dancing, until the champagne runs out and the band starts to pack up.

the door slams softly behind you.

lando takes your coat, and you drop your bag on his coffee table. when you turn around to find him, he’s stood in the doorway watching you. there is so much to say, but you can barely form a thought.

“i can’t take this any longer.” lando tells you.

your breath hitches in your throat.

“neither can i.” you whisper.

“we can be more.”

“what do you want us to be?” your chest is tight and you’re looking at him so fucking intensely, desire as clear as day in your eyes.

“you know what i want. and i know you want it too.” he walks towards you slowly as he speaks, footsteps punctuating each word.

“i need to hear you say it.” you breathe. you’re shaking; you’re not sure if it’s the anticipation or the way you’re holding yourself back.

“all i want, all i ever wanted, is you.” he’s right in front of you and his hands are on your waist. you’re tingling everywhere.

lando’s nose bumps yours. you’re scanning his face, every line, freckle, slope that maps him out. he can’t help but look at your lips, darkened eyes flitting over your face. all you can hear is shaky breaths, and perhaps your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“can i…?” lando mutters.

you close the gap some more, lips brushing his.

“of course you can.”

he kisses you like he’ll die if he doesn’t. his hands cup your cheeks and yours find his neck, gently pressing your fingertips into his skin. lando’s frantic, passionate, oh so careful as he deepens the kiss, pulling you somehow closer. you hum in surprise, and you feel him smirking. he’s moving hungrily, and you’re starving, impatient when your hands find his curls. the groan he emits at the sensation makes you ache for him all over.

you’re both panting when you pull away, the urgency to breathe the only thing stopping you. the relief you feel is astronomical, your lips lock perfectly and he feels wondrous under your explorative hands. he smiles wide and you grip his collar, pressing your forehead against his.

“i was gonna tell you, and then you turned up looking like this… fuck.” lando groans, and you can’t help but lean up into him once more.

the kiss is slower this time, languid, and he licks slowly into your mouth. his pupils are blown when you break apart and his eyes flutter open. your thighs clench under your dress.

“so, you like the dress?” you giggle incredulously, buzzing from the interaction. lando looks at you like you’re stupid.

“you look…” he runs his eyes over you, pausing mid sentence tentatively.

“say it.”

“fucking incredible.”

“thanks. bought it with you in mind.” you tease, smirking coyly.

his jaw goes slack; you can see him mentally undressing you, and then he’s kissing you all over again.

his bedroom isn’t far, but he insists on carrying you there, sweeping you up into his arms. he peppers kisses over your neck, kicking the door open with his dress shoe.

lando places you on your feet at the foot of his bed, smoothing his hands over the curve of your waist, the silk of your dress. he tucks your hair behind your ears, drawing you close once more as he does, cupping your face in large, calloused hands.

“what do you want tonight?” lando asks, searching your face for any sign of hesitancy.

“need you. all of you.” you keen into his touch, and his breath hitches in his throat.

“we’ll go slow.” he murmurs.

“no.” you shake your head, and his hands drop from your face. “don’t want to hold back anymore.” he finds your ass, grazing his fingers upwards until he finds the fastening of your dress. you maintain eye contact while he drags the zip down, shivering as your hear the faint buzz of the metal.

lando stops, just for a second in an attempt to compose himself.

“take it off. bought it so that you could take it off.” your brutal honesty breathes some urgency into him.

he keeps his eyes on yours as the silk falls off your body, pooling at your feet. the cool air brushes your skin - covered only by lacy panties and stilettos - but his touch warms you when he grabs your waist. lando walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed. he places you on the bed, on top of you like a shot, kissing you into the mattress.

he clambers off of you, sliding down your body until he reaches your heels. kisses trail up your legs while he takes them off, the thud of them hitting the floor making you jump. anticipation pools in your barely there underwear; he can see you, all of you, and he cannot bring himself to look away.

“careful with those, they were expensive.” you joke, but your voice sounds wrecked already. you can’t even imagine how you’ll sound when he’s done.

“i have different priorities right now.” he flashes a grin and you lose him between your legs.

your underwear stay on when he dives into your pussy, teeth scraping over your covered folds. he can definitely taste you already, stuttering out a moan as he casts his tongue over you. you sink deep into the sheets, bucking your hips into his face, but his hold on you is firm and you have to relent. he lets go of you for a moment, just to pull your panties down, and as soon as they’re gone, he’s delving deep into you.

the sounds he’s making are obscene, his entire face buried away. lando flicks his tongue over your clit, beginning an extended assault on your nerve endings, sucking hard and fast until you whimper his name. a knot forms in your core.

lando takes his mouth off of you, lips slick and glistening. he swipes his tongue over them, sitting back on his haunches. he begins rolling his sleeves up, and you manage to push yourself up so that you’re resting on your elbows. you reach out to toy with the buttons of his dress shirt, leaving his torso exposed to you. you rake your nails over his abs, transfixed on the way he tenses, shudders under your touch. once his sleeves are out of his way, he pushes you back. your hair fans out around you as he resumes his position between your legs.

one finger ghosts over your clit, poking and tracing the bud. you’re reeling, writhing at the feeling of everything and almost nothing at all. he drags the digit down until he finds your entrance, abandoning the teasing and slipping it inside of you. he twists his wrist, adding a second finger, grinding them deep. he’s slow with it, watches the way your face twists in euphoria, finding a deep sense of pride in the way he makes you shake.

“you have no fucking idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.” his words have you clamping down on him, fucking yourself onto his hand.

“the feeling’s mutual.” you gasp.

lando cocks an eyebrow. he scales your body until he’s hovering over you again, fingers still working in and out of you. the angle change is delightful, your back arching and your nipples harden as they skim his bare chest.

“is it, honey? was it mutual all those nights i pictured you next to me, right on this bed? all those nights i watched you dance in your short skirts? all those nights i carried you to bed and wished i could stay?” he whispers right into your ear. his fingers speed up.

“fuck, lando. yes.” you cry, mouth hanging slack.

“tell me. tell me how mutual it was and i’ll let you come, pretty girl.” he teases; goosebumps litter your skin. there he goes again with pretty girl. this fucking man.

“always wanted more… was too scared to ask for it.”

“oh?” he coos, mockingly.

“couldn’t lose you if you didn’t want me.” you pant. a weight lifts off your chest as you let the words slip, his efforts sending you hurtling towards an orgasm.

“not going anywhere.” he kisses the base of your throat. “ever.” he punctuates, thumb sliding over your clit. “let go, love.”

the wave of pleasure crashes on your shores and it doesn’t stop, rippling through your belly and down into your toes. lando’s name falls from your lips like a sin, over and over until you can’t even hear yourself anymore.

lando’s smiling when you come down, small and knowing. he pecks your lips, once, twice, humming into the kiss when your hands find a home under his shirt. it’s unbuttoned already, so it slides over his bronzed shoulders easily. you hear it thud softly when it hits the floor.

“what?” you catch him looking at you, giddy.

“i can’t believe we’re doing this.” he grins. his words overwhelm you.

“i know.” you beam up at him bashfully.

he undresses himself and then the wait is over, and god knows it was a long one. he finds home between your thighs, runs his cock through your folds.

“you sure?”

“don’t make me wait any longer.” you insist.

it takes you a moment to adjust; he strokes your walls nice and deep and you feel everything he has to offer you. it’s surreal, really, stretching around him like this. you’d only ever daydreamed of the possibility, and now that it’s happening you can’t quite believe it. he moans low, forehead resting on yours. you watch his eyes roll back when he bottoms out.

your lip is quivering; it’s too intense, he’s too good. he takes it slow, just like he’d insisted, but he grinds deep, long strokes making you dizzy. you leave imprints of crescents in his shoulder blades, marking his pristine skin.

you can’t take much more of this, his hips hitting yours at such a delectable pace. he drags in and out, building a blissful rhythm and you’re whimpering into his neck. your teeth dig into the muscled plane of skin, minimal pressure applied, and his thrusts turn erratic, curses tumbling freely from his pink parted lips. it makes you squirm, spilling all over him, white hot and wet.

lando collapses into your damp body, the room is humid. you drag your nails through his hair, pushing the sweat slicked curls off of his forehead, and then your hand thuds lazily against the pillow.

“i’m done pretending.” he mumbles. “i’m yours.”

the last few years of your life flash before your eyes. you think back to his buzz cut and every time you’d failed to rebound. you think of bleached hair and lies about love and how he always saw the best in you. you think of nothing but him, you, together. he’s carved into you now, you think he always has been.

you fall asleep happy. you’ll wake up by his side and then you’ll do it the morning after, and the one after that too.

youruser just posted on instagram

liked by landonorris, mclaren, francisca.gomez, lilymhe and 735,641 others

youruser: our secret moments

landonorris: “only bought this dress so you could take it off” 🕺🏻✨💘

youruser: @ landonorris omg shut up (omw over)

user1: FINALLY

user4: bisexual panic is a real thing.

otheruser: i used to pray for times like these

maxfewtrell: took you long enough.

yourfriendmia: mum n dad

user63: mclaren ships it and so do i

and 1,442 other comments

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239

maintenance: i’ve removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed!

3K notes · View notes

alltheirdamn · 13 days

Text

Lilies | dom!joel x sub!f!reader

Song Inspo: Lilies by Ethel Cain

Summary: Joel gives you everything, but you’re beginning to crave more. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 5.5k (sorry lol) Warnings: dom/sub dynamic, a teeny tiny bit of Stockholm syndrome, lingerie!kink, reader has long enough hair to braid, brat taming, jealousy, angst, names (little flower, sir, whore, slut), degrading!kink, anal play, anal sex, orgasm denial, oral (m!receiving), throat fucking, ball-sucking/worship, rough sex, creampie, slapping, spanking, aftercare, joel is kinda a meany but also kinda sweet A/N: this just kind of tumbled out of me and yeah… here we are lol very far out of my element with this dynamic, so hopefully i did it justice. (i am very horny for dom!joel right now, please don’t perceive me)

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

The rules were simple:

You were to be at Joel’s home at exactly four pm every Friday and stay with him until Sunday evening

Your hair must be in a braid at all times

You could only wear lingerie (selected and purchased by Joel)

That was your routine.

You had been Joel’s submissive for half a year, and nothing had changed. You submitted to everything he asked without question. Yes, there were safe words in place and long conversations about wants and needs, but none of that mattered to you. All that mattered was Joel’s unwavering attention every weekend.

As time passed, though, you started wanting more. Three days weren’t enough for you. The rules weren’t enough. You wanted all of Joel. Not just his commands. Not just his cock. You wanted him to be yours in every way.

Nothing within Joel’s rules explicitly stated you could only see one another. As far as you were concerned, he only tended to one submissive at a time, and you had been with him the longest. Pride swelled inside you when you thought of that; Joel kept you because he wanted you. He enjoyed the pleasure you brought him, and in return, he cared for you deeply. But you wanted to see how deeply he cared about you and if he was as committed to you as you were to him.

That's when you devised a meticulously thought-out plan to prove Joel’s possessiveness. The desperate need to make him realize there would be no one else to make him happy.

You clicked the door open at precisely four pm and entered Joel's home. He kept it spotless, an immaculate representation of his attention to detail. Nothing went unnoticed, and everything had its place and purpose. Within his home, you had your purpose as well.

Tip-toeing through his kitchen, you brushed your hand over the marble counter, the stone cold to touch as you walked into the living room. Floor-to-ceiling bay windows compromised the room's side wall, looking out onto the brick terrace. Joel’s view of the city was the best money could buy, and you spent most Saturday mornings curled up on the patio sofa, watching the sun rise over the skyline.

The plush, gray couch in the center of the living room faced a large flat screen, one rarely used when you stayed on the weekends. Joel insisted on being present with you, whether it was fucking you into oblivion inside his bedroom or dotting over you with aftercare and affection. The lines blurred between strict rules and faltering emotions. He wasn’t a man of many words, but the feelings expressed through actions were enough to make your heart grow fonder.

Joel was to arrive home in less than thirty minutes, giving you enough time to piece yourself together in the new lingerie he had purchased. Wandering into the bedroom, you looked over the sight of his king-sized bed, covered in a white down comforter and scattered with an array of luxury pillows. The sheets beneath the comforter were silky soft and cool to the touch, but the press of Joel’s body against yours during the night kept you wrapped in a blanket of warmth.

The master bath was beyond beautiful, with its white trimmed crowning and alabaster bathtub under the window. Two sinks were carved into a marble counter: one for Joel and one for you. Countless times before, Joel bent you over the counter, forcing you to watch him through the bathroom mirror as he ruined you from behind. You came to learn that was one of Joel’s favorite activities: making you watch him while he fucked you. You loved it, too.

You loved everything he did.

Setting your overnight bag on the counter, you laid out your lingerie piece by piece. The white lace bustier was practically see-through, with a detailed pattern that left little to the imagination. The only part of the top that wasn’t fully transparent was the fishbone wiring that traced the underside of the bust. The matching underwear was no better; your neatly trimmed sex would be fully seen under the lace that comprised the tiny bodice. In Joel’s words, he wanted you to look “angelic and ethereal.” Once again, the thrumming in your heart increased knowing he saw you as such. He worshiped you head to toe, and you were so eager to give him anything he wanted. Slipping the garment over your body, you worked on your hair, plaiting the strands into a perfect braid you had mastered over the last several months. You secured it with a silk bow—just as Joel had requested—and settled it between your shoulder blades. Admiring yourself, you smiled into the mirror. Joel would be pleased with you.

But first, you needed to do something.

Reaching into your purse for your cell phone, you adjusted the camera to capture your lace-clad body in a teasing portrait. The photo wasn’t for Joel. Scrolling through your phone, you found the contact of your latest man of interest—well, not a genuine interest, so perhaps, the latest victim? You were only using him as part of your plan, and you hoped it worked in your favor.

As your finger hovered over the send button, you heard the unmistakable sound of the front door lock sliding open. A thrill of anxiety rushed through your body; you would do this. Pressing send, you ran to the bedroom and placed your phone on the nightstand. The ringer was on, which Joel did not favor during your time with him.

His large frame shadowed the bedroom door as he stepped into the room. In all his glory, Joel Miller was yours for the next seventy-two hours. But if you had it your way, he’d be yours forever. Clad in his usual work attire, his broad shoulders and chest stretched out his business suit, the white button-down peeking out beneath the jacket. His thick thighs were covered in well-tailored trousers, and his shoes were pristine and polished as he liked. Gazing up, you drank in the neatly trimmed scruff along his jaw, the silver patches thickening as they neared his ears. The mustache over his upper lip was just as clean, the edges dipping close to the curve of his mouth—which was currently tipped up into a satisfied grin.

“Hello, little flower,” he greeted.

Little flower.

That had always been his preferred name for you. “You’re so delicate, like a little flower. I could marvel at your beauty but crush you in my hand in seconds.”

Such a sentiment shouldn’t ignite something so visceral inside you, but it sounded so sweet when it fell off his tongue in honey-drench syllables.

“Hello, sir,” you smiled, your body situated on the edge of the bed.

You watched as he shed his suit jacket, folding it carefully and draping it over the dresser. His eyes stayed trained on you, the rich brown of his irises boring into you with a softness so tender it toppled something inside your stomach. Working at the cuffs of his shirt, Joel rolled them in perfect sections until they hugged the thick muscles of his forearms just below his elbows.

“You look radiant in the new set,” he said, his eyes dragging over your body.

You preened at his compliment, a blush crawling over your chest and neck.

“Thank you, sir. I love anything you pick out for me.”

Joel cracked a wide grin, pleased with your response. He curled his pointer finger at you, beckoning you closer. You obeyed his command wordlessly, stepping into his warmth. Rough, calloused fingers trailed over your bare skin, trailing higher up your arm until his hand came to cup your cheek.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he rubbed a thumb over your cheekbone, the touch you craved when you weren’t in his presence. You craved tenderness at all hours of the day; you lay awake sometimes at night yearning for more. Always more.

You craned your neck to kiss his lips softly, gently. If you could choose how you’d die, it would always be in this moment, where the world dissolved around you, and it was just Joel’s body against yours.

The moment shattered away as your phone shrilled from the nightstand, the vibration rattling the wood. Joel broke from your lips, his eyes set ablaze and swimming in darkness. Disappointment washed over his features, the crease between his brow forming and his lips set in a thin line. Without a single word, he strode to the nightstand and stared at your phone screen, no doubt flooded with texts from the man you had sent the photos.

Your heart thudded in your ears, the sound pressurizing inside your head. On bated breath, you waited for him to say something.

“Kneel,” he ordered, his voice cold. He didn’t even glance at you as he said the word.

You did without hesitation, your knees dropping to the carpet floor without a sound. The tension in the room was palatable as Joel walked into your line of vision. He held the phone in front of your face, his fingers tight around the edges.

“Read.”

Your eyes scanned the words on the screen, a slew of text messages… each more vulgar than the last. You didn’t want to say them aloud.

“Read,” he repeated.

“I—I don’t want to, sir,” you whispered.

Joel’s body was foreboding, a shadow swallowing you whole as you sat perched on your knees before him. He could do anything he wanted to you, and the truth was that you’d let him. You’d let him do anything because you wanted it. You wanted him so desperately.

“I didn’t ask if you wanted to read it,” he said. “I am telling you to read it.”

You swallowed thickly, your voice barely above a whisper, as you began to read off the text thread.

Damn, I need to know what your pussy looks like.

Let’s meet up tomorrow.

Send another picture. I want to see your legs spread wider.

Bet you would let me cum inside you.

Line after line, word after word, you were embarrassed. Embarrassed and afraid, neither settled well inside your stomach as it churched together.

Tossing the phone to the ground, Joel crouched to meet you at eye level. It was the first time you felt terrified by the way he looked at you. Several times, he had been rough—almost always, as it was what he enjoyed—but there was always a glimmer of softness even when he hurt you.

“You did this for a reason.” Joel didn’t ask; he said it like a calculated realization.

You bowed your head, too ashamed to meet his eye. Oh, but he didn’t like that. Gripping your chin with merciless strength, Joel lifted your face to meet his. A breath apart, but so far away.

“Explain yourself, little flower. I’m growing rather impatient.”

“I wanted to see you jealous, sir,” you admonished. “I wanted to know what you would do.”

“Jealous,” he echoed, rolling his tongue over his teeth.

He ripped his hand from your face, letting your head fall between your shoulders. You started at the polished tips of his work shoes, the black leather shiny and without marks. No detail went unnoticed.

“Undo my belt,” he instructed, stretching himself back to his full height.

Straightening your spine, you reached up to his belt and began to unclasp the metal, holding it tight around his trousers. Joel continued to stare down at you unamused. You worked at pushing his pants down his thick thighs, shoving them far enough to reach his kneecaps.

“Take out my cock. Let’s see how well I’ve trained your throat.”

You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, giving them a good tug until his thick cock sprung free. It bobbed against his stomach, the reddened tip weeping with precum. Your hand came up to grip the girthy base, but Joel tutted in protest.

“Hands behind your back, little flower.”

Clasping your hands at the base of your spine, you peered up at him with an eager expression. Joel arched a brow, waiting for you to comply and give him his request. Shuffling your knees forward, you dragged the tip of your tongue over the slit, lapping at the salty precum that dripped down. You peppered him with kitten kisses, your tongue tracing the veins on the underside of his cock. Joel rewarded you with a satisfied hum, bucking his hips forward until the head of his cock parted your lips wider.

Dropping your jaw open, you welcomed each girthy inch of his cock into your warm mouth, the faint smell of his body wash mingling with his musky scent as you took him deeper. The moment the head of his cock brushed the back of your throat, you sputtered softly and felt the tears begin to well in your eyes as you squeezed them shut.

Joel ripped himself from your mouth, his hand coming down to squish your cheeks together.

“Keep your eyes open.”

“Yes, sir,” you said sheepishly.

He released his grip on your face and adjusted himself back at your wet lips. Sucking in a deep breath, you wrapped your mouth around his cock once more. Joel jerked his hips forward, sending his cock to the back of your throat. You swallowed around him, keeping your tongue flat against the underside of his cock. Your nose brushed against the trimmed curls that framed his pubic bones, the hairs tickling your nose as he held you there.

“I’m going to count to ten, little flower. Be a good girl, and show me how well you can take it.”

You nodded, your mouth suctioning tighter around him. Joel’s eyes darkened, his lips parted as he readied himself to count.

“One,” he barked.

You blinked away the tears springing in the corner of your eyes. You could do this; you had done it before.

“Two.”

You unhinged your jaw, your senses invaded by his scent as you pressed further into his pubic hair. Somewhere between breaths, Joel counted three and four with a loud grunt, and you continued to focus on exhaling through your nose.

“Five,” he gritted.

The urge to gag around his cock grew harder to ignore, and the tears flowed freely down your cheeks. Your chin was coated in drool as you anticipated the next count, your eyes foggy as you stared up at him. Joel tilted his head, admiring how he stuffed every crevice of your mouth.

“Six.”

“Seven.”

More saliva pooled in your mouth, and you hollowed your cheeks to avoid sputtering around him. Joel’s lips curled into a devilish smirk, and he nudged his pelvis closer until your nose smashed into his skin. You coughed around his length, the corners of your mouth dripping saliva onto your neck and chest.

“Almost there, little flower. Doing so good for me,” he crooned.

Joel brushed a finger over your throat, tapping the bulge protruding against your aching flesh. Eight and nine were a blur, your eyes barely staying open. Every flutter of your lashes garnered a dissatisfied tut from Joel, his body tense and throbbing with anger.

“Ten,” he sighed.

You tore away, coughing violently as you sucked in jagged breaths. Twisting your hands behind you, you squeezed your eyes shut to push the remainder of the tears down your cheeks. Joel wrapped a large hand around the base of his cock, stroking himself slowly and lazily.

“Stick out your tongue,” he ordered.

The words he said were far and few, which terrified you. Deep within yourself, you knew you had enraged him with your little act. It garnered no affection as you hoped, but he still gave you the attention you yearned for. Good or bad, you would take it. You would take anything he gave you.

A trail of saliva, salty and thick, dripped from the point of your tongue as you did what he instructed. Joel rested the velvety skin of his balls against your mouth, the weight of them heavy on your tongue. You didn’t need his commands as you slipped one of his balls into your mouth. Above you, Joel shuddered and clenched his fists at his side. You worshiped each with equal measure, alternating between gentle caresses of your tongue and sloppy suctions of your mouth.

“That’s it, little flower. Just like that,” Joel cooed.

A desperate moan left your lips as you lapped up the salty wetness covering his silken sack, swallowing down the remnants of your drool. Joel pumped himself faster, the sound of his jagged breathing mixing with the lewd noises of your mouth. His release was nearing; you could sense it in the way his thick thighs flexed around your face.

“Please,” you whined, your words muffled into the hair around his balls.

Joel’s hand slowed around his length, his thumb brushing over the slit as more precum leaked out. Staring up at him helplessly, you waited for his release to paint your tongue. He gave you a stern look, nodding toward the bed.

“Hands and knees. Now.”

“But—,” you protested.

Joel smoothed his palm over your cheek before pulling back and delivering a sharp smack against your face. You jerked at the sting of his touch radiating through the layers of your skin. He undoubtedly left behind a reddened mark across your cheek and jaw.

“You’ve already angered me once,” he warned. “Get on the fucking bed.”

Your knees scuffed against the ground as you scrambled onto the bed, situating yourself in the position he commanded. The unmistakable sound of the leather unsheathing from his pants ignited a new wave of fear through your body. Joel discarded it beside your face before coasting a hand down the center of your spine.

“I’ll give you another chance to explain yourself,” Joel said.

The bed dipped under his weight as he pressed a knee into the comforter beside you. You glanced over your shoulder, watching through teary eyes as Joel quickly unbuttoned his shirt. Dark chest hair scattered over his broad chest, spattered lower until it tapered into a thick trail down his pelvis. A thin sheen of sweat glistened over his golden skin as he discarded his shirt carelessly onto the ground. Careless…it wasn’t something you were used to with Joel.

“I just wanted your attention,” you muttered, your head hanging between your shoulders.

Joel tugged your braid, forcing your neck to crane backward. Despite the harshness of his words, his touch, his demeanor… your body throbbed with an unavoidable need. It throbbed at the apex of your sex, the lace rubbing against the slick that pooled between your thighs. Joel paid no attention to the way your legs shifted side to side, his unwavering stare penetrating you.

“Do I not give you enough attention?” He questioned.

“You do, sir,” you nodded, the strain on your neck growing uncomfortable.

“Perhaps you don’t deserve attention at all,” he mused.

He released his grip on your hair, your head falling forward and hanging low between your shoulders. Joel moved behind your body, his thick fingers tearing apart the lace hugging your ass. You yelped at the sheer force of it, the chill of the room skating up your bare sex. Joel’s fingertips traced over the back of your thigh, lingering close to the outline of your weeping pussy. Just one touch. That’s all you wanted—just one.

His touch disappeared, leaving you whining and frustrated. Joel huffed a laugh before bringing two fingers to your mouth.

“Suck. Get them nice and wet for me.”

You obliged, rolling your tongue over the thick digits as they pressed down into your mouth. He pulled them away, a web of drool connecting from the tip of your tongue to the pads of his fingers. Joel knocked your legs open further, and you waited in anticipation for his fingers to give you what you needed. Except, he didn’t.

A gasp left your lips as he pushed the calloused skin of his fingertips against the tight ring of muscles above your slit. With one hand gripping your ass, Joel spread you wider, humming at the sight of you fully exposed.

“Maybe you don’t deserve the attention you want. You’ll take what I give you, and you’ll thank me.”

“Please,” you whined.

“No,” he growled. “Desperate little sluts don’t get what they want.”

Joel’s finger dipped into your clenching hole, prodding you open despite your whines of protest. It wasn’t the first time he used this way, but it felt different. It wasn’t kind. It wasn’t meant to be focused on your pleasure. He was determined to prove a point, and you would comply because you were so greedy for anything he could give. He pressed the second finger to your hole, stretching you wider as he pushed them to his second knuckle. Wider and wider, he stretched you, uncomfortable but not unwelcomed.

“I see how wet you are, little flower. I know how greedy this pussy can get, but you know what? You don’t deserve it. This pussy doesn’t deserve my attention at all.”

“Sir!” You cried.

“You’re going to take my cock in your ass like the pathetic whore you are,” he growled.

Joel curled his fingers inside you, slipping them deeper until they were fully seated inside you. If you felt full now, it would be nothing compared to the way his cock would split you open. The sheer thought of it sent a shockwave to your clit, the aching bud pulsating painfully. Joel laughed at the way you squirmed underneath him, rewarding your cries with a jarring smack against your ass. Fuck, it hurt.

Tearing his fingers from you, Joel disappeared from the bed and riffled through his nightstand drawer. You heard the familiar sound of the lube squirting into his hand and the rough breath of Joel as he realigned himself with your loosened hole. The initial intrusion of his cock sparred stars into your vision, the tip of his cock tearing you open. Even in his angered haze, Joel was slow—careful.

“Breathe, little flower,” he urged.

You barely managed a full gulp of air before Joel bottomed out entirely. A scream erupted from your lips as you adjusted to his size, each inch of his length stuffed inside your tightening hole. Your body flexed and tensed under Joel’s touch, one hand pressing into your lower back, the other looping a finger through the plaits in your hair. Beneath him, you were helpless, entirely at his mercy for whatever he wanted.

With a slow retraction of his hips, Joel snapped his hips forward hard enough to send your upper body into the comforter. The rugged momentum of his thrusts tore you apart; piece by piece, Joel diminished you into nothing but a hole for his use.

“Greedy fucking whore,” Joel grunted, each thrust weighted and heavy inside you. “How’s it feel, huh? You love being used like this?”

“I love it, sir,” you cried.

Joel pulled out to the tip, a heavy breath expelling from your mouth. He ripped into you again, resolving you into a heap of tears and shallow whimpers. His finger in your intertwined hair tightened, pulling your neck back until you had no choice but to connect with his piercing stare. With blown pupils and curled lips, Joel was the epitome of carnal rage. You did this. You spurred him into this embodiment of anger.

“Is this enough for you, little flower?” He demanded.

Arousal dripped between your legs, the snap of his balls against your clit radiating pleasure through your body. You writhed under his hold, a pleading cry leaving your mouth as you stared at him helplessly. Usually reserved and stoic, Joel’s emotions washed over his features, speaking louder than his words. You didn’t just anger him; you hurt him. You questioned his role as a dominant, which was an unspeakable thing to do.

“Answer me!” He raged.

“It’s enough!” You sobbed.

Joel fucked you into abandon, your asshole sore and pained with every cantation of his hips. He was tearing you apart from the inside out, unrelenting and punishing. Your safe word balanced on the tip of your tongue, yet you withheld. You knew Joel would stop the moment you said the word, but you didn’t want him to. You wanted to prove you could be everything and more. You wanted to prove yourself until he wanted no other but you.

The pulse between your legs was unbearable. You were stretched out and gaping around his cock, void of any chance of release. Joel knew how your body responded; he was aware of how your hole contracted and flexed around him. Yet, he gave you nothing. He wouldn’t.

“Taking my cock so well, little flower,” he muttered between labored breaths. “Swallowing every inch of me.”

“Please, sir. Please, I want to cum,” you babbled.

The sting of his palm against your ass was his response to your pleas, a simple gesture to shut you up. You took it, though your body buzzed with pleasure in every limb.

“I know you do,” he crooned softly. “But you don’t get what you want. Only what I give you. So fucking take it.”

The world was caving around you, your vision blackening at the edges. Joel wound your braid over his fist and quickened his thrusts. Your body sagged into the bed, limp and pliant. Guttural sounds fell off Joel’s lips as he fucked you into the bed. Your ears deafened to the noise, your mouth hanging open and dripping spit into the soft bedspread beneath you. The erratic drive of his cock was the only warning you had to know he was close. Jagged, deep thrusts speared into you as Joel toppled over the edge with an animalist growl as he pumped his release into your fucked out hole. You twitched under his body, your knees slipping lower as your body gave out.

Despite the haze inside your mind, your lips tipped up into a satisfied grin. He used your body just as he wanted, and you proved fealty to him—ardent, unwavering submission to the one man who wove his way into your heart.

Joel pulled himself from you, slow and gentle, until the roll of his release was falling between your slit. You clenched around nothing, the tight ring of muscles aching painfully. He reached up to undo the silk bow holding your braid together, his fingers working through the soft waves as they floated over your back.

“Little flower,” he whispered, kissing your sweat-coated spine.

You flinched at his touch, not out of fear but of shock that still radiated through your muscles. You hadn’t fully returned to your mind, and Joel took notice. Working you onto your back, he roamed a hand over your breasts; his hand pressed firmly against the thrumming pulse of your heart. You stared up at him blankly, the tears now dried against your cheeks. What had been the face of cruelty only moments ago had now morphed into the soft, longing gaze you always yearned for. Joel’s pupils had returned to normal, the flecks of amber and rich chocolate boring into you with a look of concern.

“Thank you, sir,” you whispered.

He bent over you, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. Your eyes fluttered close, relishing in the softness of his lips on your skin. You wanted this. You ached for it fiercely but could not form the words to beg for it.

“Stay here a moment,” he said.

You lay against the bed, your limbs twitching as you rolled onto your side. Curling into yourself, you fought off the tremors still wracking through your muscles, a steady pulse rhythmically beating within your clit. Joel denied you your orgasm, which he never did. It was your punishment for wanting too much—a miscalculated attempt at proving your worth.

The sound of running water drifted from the bathroom, followed by Joel’s heavy footsteps nearing the bed. With a quick unclasping of your bustier and a firm hand under your knees, Joel lifted you from the bed. You became weightless in his arms, cradling you to his sweaty chest. Wrapping a shaky arm around his shoulders, you rested your head inside the crook of his neck and exhaled an exhausted sigh.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said softly.

The pungent aroma of lavender and vanilla tinged your nose as Joel guided you into the bathtub. Immediately, your muscles unwound in their tension, a relieving groan expelling from your lips. The heat of the water soothed your tender flesh, the bubbles running over your bare skin in small clusters. Joel was dedicated to aftercare, especially after rougher sessions with you. This was no different. He always remained beside the bathtub, soothing you with praise as you tipped further into its warmth.

You blinked up at him, giving him a tired smile. He gave you a silent nod, then motioned for you to slide forward. He never bathed with you. It wasn’t a rule, per se, but he never granted it to you. This was different—foreign.

You slid your body as far as it could go, your knees pressed to your chest as Joel dipped into the water behind you. Hooking a strong arm around your abdomen, he pulled you flush with your body and dropped his mouth below the shell of your ear.

“You chose to anger me today,” he muttered. “I need the honest truth as to why you did it.”

You twisted your face around to meet his steady gaze, your bottom lip quivering while you debated if the truth was worth voicing.

“I wanted you to be possessive,” you admitted. “I wanted to know if you cared for me the way I care for you.”

Joel’s eyebrows raised slightly, the words shocking him.

“Of course, I care for you. Do I not show it well enough?”

“No—no, you do, sir. I just…I want to be the only one you care for.”

“You have been, little flower. There’s been no one else the entire time you’ve been with me,” he insisted.

You turned your body around, your knees bruising against the tile as you cupped his face. Never had you been so vulnerable with Joel, but you needed him to see your desperation. You needed him to see how committed you were to your role in his life.

“I want to be the only one,” you repeated. “I don’t want you to have another.”

Joel’s hands rested at the curve between your waist and hips, prodding your flesh soothingly.

“Is that what you want, little flower?” He questioned.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, sir. What matters is if it’s what you want.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, creases forming near his temple as he shut his eyes. Silence fell between you, so loud it fractured your heart. No answer was an answer. You failed in your attempts to prove yourself. You failed to make him want you more. He didn’t want you, no matter—.

“My sweet, little flower,” he sighed.

Fresh tears slipped down your cheek, and you made no effort to swat them away. It was useless when you knew you lost the one thing you wanted the most. Joel brushed his lips against yours, and you let a muffled cry escape.

“Rules can be rectified,” he started. “If this is something you wish, I’ll happily oblige.”

“Really?” You asked, pulling away.

You studied him for any sign of doubt, any stolen glance that may prove his words a lie. But he looked at you with complete devotion, irrevocable certainty.

“I want you just as badly. All you had to do was ask. There was no need for defiance or jealousy.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I think you’ve proven yourself more than enough today, little flower. Turn around so I can care for you properly.”

You slipped back into his warm embrace, your legs widening and pressed against his. Joel smoothed a hand down your stomach, his fingers tracing the swollen lips of your sex. You bucked into his hand, chasing the orgasm that still swam within your stomach. He drew slow, tantalizing circles over your soddened clit, muttering soft words into your ear.

“Such a good girl,” he cooed. “I know what you need. I’ll take care of you.”

“Yes—yes,” you panted, arching into his touch.

The pad of his finger pressed into the throbbing bud, the surging pleasure inside you growing agonizing. Bathwater sloshed around your body is rivulets, the push and pull of the waves crashing into the space where your skin didn’t touch. Closer and closer, he drove you to the edge until a delicious rapture tore through your body. Every muscle beneath your balmy skin seized upwards, a wail of relief echoing around the empty bathroom as you caved into your climax.

“That’s it, little flower. So beautiful when you come undone for me,” Joel mumbled into your ear, his teeth nipping at the lobe.

Shockwaves trembled over you as you slumped against his solid frame, your head falling back onto his shoulder. You had what you wanted. Body and soul, Joel granted your wish. Ecstasy wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the swelling inside your chest.

“Stay with me. More than just the weekends. I’ll have your things brought here, and you can stay permanently,” Joel offered. “This house is rather lonely without you in it, anyway.”

“Okay,” you submitted, a grin stretching across your face.

He was yours.

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #dom!joel miller #sub!f!reader #dom/sub #joel miller x you #tlou fanfic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut

733 notes · View notes

actuallysaiyan · 28 days

Text

Love Hotel(Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, mirror sex/katoptronophilia, water jet masturbation, alcohol, reader and Nanami are 19+, love hotel word count: 2.4k pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: you and Kento struggle to find time to be intimate now that you're both full-fledged Grade One sorcerers who work for Jujutsu Tech, and you lie to Gojo about a mission so you and Kento can have a night alone together. you end up in a love hotel together a/n: this is sort of in the universe of most of my other Emo!Nanami fics and reader who are sorcerers together. Can be read apart or together with the others :) dividers by the lovely @benkeibear

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @an-ever-angry-bi @seireiteihellbutterfly @benkeibear @namikyento

@adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa @darkstarlight82 @galactict3a. @erebus-et-eigengrau

@aomi04 @isabelzoldyck

Wanna be part of the taglist? Here's the link!(Please make sure to have an age indicator in your bio plz!)

It’s been weeks since you and Kento have had a moment alone. Ever since becoming full-fledged sorcerers, it’s just been mission after mission. If it’s not missions, it’s training. And if it’s not training, it’s Gojo always hanging off one of you.

It goes without saying, you two were becoming quite pent up. Even just trying to have a moment alone to kiss and unwind was becoming difficult. Most nights, you two settled into your new shared apartment and just ate and went to bed. While you cuddled the whole night through, it was becoming just not enough. You two craved more than just cuddling. You needed affection, kisses and needy intimacy.

So the next time you both knew you had the day off, Kento figured out the perfect way to get Gojo to leave you both alone. He lied effectively about a mission you two were supposed to go on.

“I didn’t hear about this,” Gojo says, his tone accusative.

“That’s because you’re not involved.” You come to Kento’s defense. “It’s just for him and I.”

Gojo frowns, but then he laughs and ruffles both of your hair. He leaves you both, which makes you so proud of Kento’s little fib. It was the perfect way to get your senpai to leave you both alone for the whole afternoon.

After you both get dropped off in the city, Kento takes your hand and leads you down a few dark, damp alleyways. Then you emerge in another part of the city. The lights are a bit more neon, the people look a little stranger and you cling to Kento a little more. He ushers you towards a very dimly lit building.

Inside the building, you realize it’s a hotel of sorts. Kento walks you over to one of the machines and he presses a button. There are photos of rooms showcased on the touchscreen. He scrolls through some of them, then turns to you.

“Which one do you prefer?” He asks you, seeing your cheeks turn pink.

All the rooms seem to have such a kinky vibe to them. Some of them have poles in the middle of the room, one of them has a stage in it, and one of them looks like some sort of wild sex dungeon. Finally one catches your eye. It’s the one with a heart-shaped bed, a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom and a mirror on the ceiling.

“This one,” you tap the screen and select it.

Kento smirks playfully and then he enters his bank card into the machine. He discretely pays for the room and grabs his receipt; the only proof that either of you have even been here.

The ride up to the room is a little tense. But only because you both were so excited to finally have some alone time together. Kento mentions that he paid extra for an overnight stay in the room. He kisses your temple, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

He unlocks the door to your room with the keycard, and then you both enter. The room is bathed in a red-pink glow from the lights, and it accentuates the décor in here. The floor is a white and gray marble color, with a plush white shag carpet near the heart-shaped bed. The sheets are silky pink and blush red satin, just asking to be rolled around in.

Your eyes widen as you take in the sight of the very reflective mirror on the ceiling. Kento closes the door behind you both, ushering you inside gently. You notice that there is a small kitchenette area close to the door of the bathroom. Walking around, you take in more of the room.

A large flatscreen TV sits in front of the bed, and there’s also a very comfortable looking white loveseat that’s nearby for watching movies or any other activities. You make your way over to the minibar and look inside the mini fridge.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Kento says as he approaches you. “We could try out the jacuzzi first.”

You grab two beers from the fridge and you follow your lover into the bathroom. It’s all pink tiles in here with more of the same red-pink lighting. Even the jacuzzi is heart-shaped, which makes you snort. Kento laughs with you as well. Then he turns on the shower, giving you both a moment to be able to rinse off before you get into the tub.

With both of you rinsed off and your beers opened, Kento helps you into the now filled heart-shaped tub. He turns on the jets, making you moan as they begin to hit your sore muscles.

“This is too nice,” you comment as you rest your head on Kento’s shoulder.

Kento chuckles and sips his beer, “We needed this, honey.”

Both of you sigh happily as you rest in the warm water. The jets work their magic on muscles, loosening you both up. The beer makes you both feel a little more aroused than usual. Kento leans over and he kisses your lips softly, tentatively at first.

Soon you’re leaning in as well, your lips melding with his. He places his beer on the edge of the tub, his free hand coming to cup your chin. It’s not long before you’re adjusting your position so that you’re facing him almost directly. Your thighs open just a bit to allow him to get even closer to you.

That’s when you feel it. The jet hits your thigh and you squeal against his lips. Kento pulls away, a concerned look on his face. You laugh softly, taking a sip of your beer to calm your nerves.

“The jets,” you say. “I bet they could feel really good.”

Kento’s eyes widen and his cheeks redden. He then helps you get into a good position so that the jets are focused on your crotch. One of his hands reaches down to begin rubbing your clit. He presses kisses to your neck, biting and nipping softly.

“How’s this feeling, honey?” He asks you, kissing your neck.

You let out a moan as the jets begin to thrum against your clit, “Fuck, it feels amazing.”

He helps keep your legs spread as the jets work their magic on your swollen nub. The pleasure keeps building more and more, making your whole body shudder. You try to warn Kento that you’re about to cum, but all that comes out is pathetic little whimpers and moans.

“That’s it,” Kento coaxes you, “Cum for me.”

His hands come up to begin kneading your breasts. That’s all it takes for you to come undone. He tugs at your hardened nipples, prolonging the pleasure even more. You cry out his name as the pleasure washes over you; the tightening sensation in your lower abdomen finally releasing as your orgasm hits you hard. The jets continue to thrum against your clit, and that coupled with Nanami’s able fingers has you squirming from the overstimulation.

Finally, he brings you to sit on his lap and he holds you to his chest. Slowly, your breathing begins to normal out. Kento presses soft kisses to your temple and then all down your neck. He then leans in close to whisper in your ear.

“You looked so fucking sexy cumming like that,”

His words make your heart skip a beat. You turn to face him and your lips meet in such a sensual kiss. His hands feel so good on your skin; he caresses you so sweetly. To Kento, you are the most precious thing in this world.

“Come on, let’s go try out the bed.”

He helps you out of the jacuzzi and pulls the plug to let it drain. He grabs the soft, fluffy towels to help you both dry off and then you both slide into the complementary silk robes hanging on the wall. His hand finds yours and he guides you back to the bedroom.

You settle on the bed, looking around the room once more. Kento heads to the minibar and he finds a bottle of champagne. You watch as he uncorks it, and he pours it into two flutes. He comes over to the bed and passes one of them to you. You toast to your relationship and the amazing lie your boyfriend thought up so you two could have this amazing night together.

Kento sits on the bed with you, drinking champagne with you. You two share soft, sweet kisses and chat lightly. There’s no real pressure between you two. It’s just a peaceful time. It’s rare to have this time together and you want to soak it all in and savor it.

Eventually, after a few flutes of champagne, you start to feel needy again. Kento found a channel on the TV that just plays music, and it’s playing some of your favorite songs. Soon you feel him pushing you to lie back onto the bed. He unties the knot of your robe and strips you. Then he takes off his robe, and pulls the covers up over you both.

For a few minutes, the two of you are just making out. Soft kisses turn into more teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance. Your legs spread around him, wrapping around his broad frame to pull him in even closer. His hands soothe down your body, stopping only to tug on your nipples. Then one of his hands slips between the two of you, rubbing your clit slowly.

You pant as his fingers work your swollen clit, making your body heat up so quickly. You’re pulling him in for another sloppy kiss; your fingers are buried in his hair and tugging softly. Kento’s cock throbs and twitches to life.

“Shit,” he sighs. “I forgot to bring condoms.”

You swallow hard. While you had gone on birth control for other purposes, you and Kento had decided to use condoms while having sex. It was just a means to be even more responsible. You hadn’t brought condoms with you either.

“It’s okay,” you kiss him. “Let’s do it anyway.”

Kento feels like he could faint from your words. He’s been dreaming of the day he could finally slip into your pussy raw. He never wanted to pressure you into doing anything you weren’t comfortable with, and he always used condoms that felt basically like being inside of you raw, but nothing could even come close to that feeling.

“R-really?” Kento asks, his cheeks and the tops of his ears are pink.

You nod your head. “Yeah, I want to.”

Kento reaches between you, grasping his cock. He’s practically shaking with excitement. He slides the tip between your soaked folds, making you whine and beg for him. Then he brings it to your dripping entrance, pushing in slowly.

“Oh fuck,” Kento whines.

Inch by inch, he enters your warm cunt. It’s so snug and wet and he’s not sure how long he can last like this. He’s panting like a dog in heat as he continues to slide into you until he’s bottomed out. You watch as his eyes cross from the intense pleasure and he slumps against you.

“Too fucking good.”

You gently rub his back, soothing him from the intense pleasure. You have to admit it’s intense for you too, and you never thought it could feel like this. Eventually, Kento pulls himself up and begins rocking his hips. His large hands rest on your hips, pulling you in with every thrust of his hips.

“You feel so good,” Kento grunts. “So fucking good. So warm and wet.”

He leans in to kiss you hungrily. Your tongues roll together as he fucks into you a little faster. When you pull away from the kiss, you look up. This is when you notice the mirror that’s right on top of the bed. You thought you’d be so insecure about watching yourself have sex with your boyfriend, but seeing just how sensual it is, you find yourself even more turned on than before.

The way Kento’s back muscles flex as he fucks you harder just makes you see your man in such a different way. He’s gorgeous when he fucks you like this, but what surprises you is the way you like your own reactions in the mirror. It turns you on and arouses you to see yourself in the throes of pleasure.

“Like seeing yourself like this?” Kento asks in a breathy tone. He looks up behind him, seeing you both in the mirror. “Does it turn you on to watch me fucking you?”

You nod your head, your mind practically blank from being fucked so good and being so aroused. Kento chuckles softly before he pushes your legs to your chest. He’s much deeper in this position, and his cock is hitting your sweet spot dead on this way.

“Cum for me,” he whines. “Need to feel you cumming on my cock.”

He leans down just a bit to spit on your already wet clit, rubbing it in with his thumb. The steady rhythm of his cock inside of you was pushing you closer to that sweet release. The muscles in your groin begin to tense up once more, signaling just how close you are to cumming.

“Ken,” you whimper. “I’m so close.”

He kisses you. “Let go for me,”

He lightly pinches your swollen nub and that’s what pushes you over the edge. Your nails dig into the muscles in his back, dragging down as your walls begin to pulsate around him. Kento’s face is buried in the crook of your neck as he feels his own release becoming imminent.

“I’m cumming,” he whines. “C-can I cum inside?”

“Yes, please!”

He doesn’t need to hear more before his hips stutter. Your eyes flutter back and forth from him and to the mirror above you as you watch your boyfriend go through exhilarating pleasure. His moans are desperate and animalistic all at once as he spurts thick ropes of cum deep inside your still-convulsing pussy.

Once he comes down from his orgasm, he slumps against you again. This time his mouth finds one of your nipples, suckling softly. He huffs a little when you begin to run your fingers through his hair.

“I love you,” you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

He looks up at you, “I love you too.”

Neither one of you will regret lying to Gojo about this night.

579 notes · View notes

444lec33 · 6 days

Text

The Arrangement // Mafia!Lando x Reader Pt. 4

Series master list can be found here

Summary: Your wedding night with Lando shows you a side of him he'd rather keep hidden

WC: 2.7k

Warnings: typical banter between Lando and reader, mentions of physical injuries, Lando doing mafia stuff, there's only on bed trope

No descriptions of reader's physical appearance

Author's note: Lando nose scar enthusiasts this is for us!! 🧡

“You know you still haven’t told me where we’re going for our honeymoon.”

Lando’s eyes remained fixed on the road.

“Wait. Are we even going on a honeymoon? Do you get to take vacations from crime?” You teased turning to look at your new husband.

“Very funny,” he deadpanned but a smile broke through. “And yes, I’m taking you somewhere, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t.” His eyes looked at you seriously.

You sat back as Lando continued to drive. It was only then that you realized you hadn’t packed anything. You were too concerned with the loss of your freedom to plan outfits.

“I don’t have luggage, we can’t go now.”

“We’re not leaving now, we’re heading to the hotel.”

At that your eyes widened, you turned to face your new husband. “Hotel tonight then honeymoon. I would take you back to mine for the night but that side chick you mentioned before is still there.”

“Not funny, didn’t laugh.”

Lando couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Just relax, we’ll be there soon.”

☽☽☽☽☽☽☾☾☾☾☾☾

You found yourself in the most lavish hotel you’d ever seen. Lando clearly spared no expenses for tonight. You’d done a full tour of the luxurious space while Lando took a call in a different room. When he returned you were sitting by the window taking in the beautiful view of the city at night.

“You did good, but you forgot something.”

“Did I?” Lando questioned as he removed his jacket.

“Mhmm, there’s only one bed.”

Lando was quiet for so long you had to turn and look at him. The two of you stared at each other saying nothing. You were the one to break the silence.

“You can sleep on the floor. Although that chair over there does look pretty comfy,” you pointed at a lush velvet accent chair in the corner of the bedroom. “The bathtub in the en suite is another option. Not too sure how comfortable marble is but I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Lando rolled his eyes as he kicked off his shoes. “I’m sleeping in this bed.”

You shook your head crossing your arms over your chest. “No, I’m sleeping in this bed so you can’t.”

Lando was clearly enjoying this argument. “If you were rational you’d just agree to share it. All that tells me is you clearly don’t have the self control to sleep beside me.”

Was this man insinuating that you were thirsty? Oh no.

“Hah. I didn’t realize you were a comedian. Nice joke.” Now you were standing right in front of the man you’d just married. “I can keep my hands to myself just fine, thanks.”

Lando leaned back, elbow propped against the soft duvet. “So prove it.” His dimples were showing as he spoke. “Get in the bed.”

His hand found yours and he attempted to pull you closer. You swatted him away. “ I have to shower and so do you.”

“That sounds good. I usually like the water a bit colder but I know women prefer hot water,” he said while unbuttoning his dress shirt.

You looked at him with wide eyes. “I am not showering with you.” Your disbelief at his assumption was evident in your tone.

“Well if you change your mind...” he winked, backing into the en suite. You heard the water running as you collected everything you needed from your suitcase.

Once you’d showered and carried out your nightly routine you returned to the bedroom to find Lando lounging comfortably on the bed.

When he noticed you he smiled, flipping back the covers and patting the spot next to him. “Come join me.” You rolled your eyes but obeyed having had enough of your new husband’s antics for one day.

For the rest of the night you found yourself actually enjoying Lando’s company. The two of you fell into easy conversation that carried on throughout the night. Eventually you selected a movie to watch as the two of you comfortably lounged in the bed you’d finally decided to share.

“What is that?” Lando questioned looking at your dessert that room service had just delivered.

“It’s ice cream,” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s green,” he said looking slightly mortified.

“It’s pistachio and it’s delicious.” You dipped your spoon in and offered it to him. Lando suspiciously eyed the frozen treat before reluctantly accepting a taste.

“A criminal who’s afraid of food coloring,” you laughed at your own joke. “How did I get so lucky?”

Lando rolled his eyes at you as he got comfortable in the bed. He grabbed the remote control from the nightstand and switched the TV to something different. You asked him to put on The Proposal, your favorite romcom.

You drifted off into a peaceful sleep, Lando’s arm thrown protectively over your waist as the two of you slept.

You’d fallen into such a deep sleep that the noise around you barely caused you to stir. The bedside light being switched on was enough to pull you from your dreams causing you to rub at your eyes as your vision adjusted. You stretched your hand out across the warm bed, not liking the emptiness you found on the other side.

Now fully awake, you sat up. Casting your eyes to the other end of the room you saw Lando, phone pressed to his ear as he pulled on clothes. He was trying his hardest to be quiet but evidently his efforts were in vain. He was speaking in a rushed tone when his eyes caught yours.

“Shit.” He shifted the phone to his other ear before quickly ending the call.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you but-“

“What the hell is going on?” You wanted answers for your new husband’s erratic behavior. You tapped on your phone screen unsurprised to find that it was still the very early hours of the morning. The sun hadn’t even risen yet.

“I’ve um, I’ve gotta go.”

“And where exactly are you going? The sun isn’t even up.”

Lando sighed, clearly not wanting to get into it with you. “Somethings come up and I have to take care of it. Go back to sleep. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

The look on your face told your husband you weren't entirely sold on his words. Lando sat on the side of the bed, his hand coming up to rest on your knee. “Some of my men are outside. They’re going to make sure you’re safe. If you need anything let them know. Don’t go anywhere until I get back.”

You rolled your eyes at Lando’s words. If there was one thing he still had to learn about you it was the fact that you hated being told what to do. You’d spent your entire life living under the direction of others and you refused to have the same rules apply to your marriage.

“Lando, I am a grown woman. I can do whatever I want to. How do you expect me to listen when you won’t even tell me what the hell is happening?”

“It’s for your own good,” Lando stated refusing to budge on the issue.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Lando drew closer, leaning into you. He placed soft kissed on your forehead and nose before ending at your lips. “How am I supposed to keep you safe if you won’t listen to me? Be a good little wife and do what I’m asking of you.”

You were going to speak but Lando stopped you, his thumb coming up to trace your bottom lip. “Get some beauty sleep. I’ll be back, I promise.”

A successive round of knocks at the door startled you. You could hear men calling your husband’s name, alerting you to how urgent the matter truly was.

Lando stood up, he reached into the nightstand and pulled out a weapon you had no idea he’d stashed there. He tucked it away in his waistband as a marched towards the door.

“Lando!” You shouted his name as he opened the door. “Just… be careful, okay?” He nodded at you, a tired smile on his face.

And with that the door slammed. You were all alone. Alone on your wedding night nonetheless. How did you get so lucky?

☽☽☽☽☽☽☾☾☾☾☾☾

Sleep proved to be a futile task as you found yourself tossing and turning in the large bed, unable to find comfort. You groaned as you tossed the covers off of you and found your phone. There was no point in texting your friends if you couldn’t explain the situation to them anyways. You didn’t even bother to reach out to your parents. They knew exactly what they’d sighed you up for and clearly couldn’t care less.

You sent Lando a few texts not expecting him to respond but hoping he would. You opened your camera roll and scrolled through some of the photos from your wedding. It truly was a beautiful event. You if your grandmother was right you might actually remember it as one of the best days of your life.

You selected a few photos you wanted to share on Instagram. You tried but failed again at reaching Lando before your eyelids grew heavy and you clicked your phone off. Sleep finally won you over.

You weren’t sure what time it was or how long you’d been asleep when the sound of the door opening roused you. In walked Lando who tried his hardest to avoid you hoping to make it into the bathroom before you noticed his arrival.

“Hey! What happened?” You questioned sitting up in the bed more alert than ever.

Lando stopped in his tracks at the sound of your voice, a sigh emanating from his lips.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes as you tossed the covers off of you and sprang to your feet.

“Seeing how I have no intentions of becoming a widow anytime soon I’d like to know what’s going on with my husband.” You grabbed Lando’s arm forcing him to face you. You were caught off guard by the sight of the man in front of you.

“Oh my…” you trailed off as your hands covered your mouth in shock. What exactly had he been up to these last few hours? Your breath hitched as you reached out to grasp Lando’s chin. You turned his face every which way taking in the sight of him.

“It’s nothing,” he whispered still avoiding your gaze.

“I don’t like being lied to.” When he reached to pull your hand away from his face you noticed the horrid state his hands were in. His knuckles were bruised, purple and blue hues appearing through the skin. You quickly took his hands in yours examining the damage. That was when you noticed the blood.

“Don’t worry, it’s not mine,” Lando joked as he anticipated your unasked question.

You sighed deeply wishing your new husband would take this more seriously. “I’m never going to get used to this.”

With the way you grew up you weren’t naive to what the mafia entailed. You knew just how dangerous the shady dealings could be and the harm it could inflict on anyone involved. Memories of your own father coming home at odd hours battered, bruised, and angrier than usual crowded your thoughts.

You shook your head trying your best to steer clear of those thoughts. You were a newlywed. This should not be your reality.

“Alright come on,” you grabbed Lando’s arm and tugged him into the bathroom. You ordered him to sit on the small bench next to the large marble bathtub. You sifted through the small medical bag you’d packed shoving aside a number of tampons and pads before finding bandaids. You set them on the sink as you wet a rag with warm water.

You leaned down grabbing Lando’s chin so that he faced you. You carefully dabbed at the bloody cut that graced the bridge of his nose. “If I ask, will you tell me?” You raised an eyebrow already knowing the answer.

A cheeky grin spread across Lando’s face as you tended to him. “You’re too pretty to worry about my problems.” You rolled your eyes not even bothering to respond. You noticed the discomfort on your husband’s face as he grabbed at his side.

“Let me see,” you motioned to the area that was evidently causing him pain. Lando hesitated before reluctantly lifting his shirt. A dark bruise was beginning to form on one side of his ribs.

“It’s worse than it looks,” he joked. “I’ll just shower and I’ll be fine, you don’t have to take care of me.”

You scoffed at his words. “You were the one that wanted to try and make this work now you’re asking me to leave you alone when you clearly need help.” Nope. You were doubling down.

“Take off your clothes.”

If there was one thing Lando never expected you to say that was it. His eyes widened in shock at your serious expression. “You don’t waste any time do you.”

You shook your head as you reached for the handle on the bathtub and began drawing a bath. “You should know by now that I don’t like repeating myself.” Your back was turned to him as you poured a bit of bubble bath into the tub.

“Yes ma’am.”

You could hear the sound of Lando undressing as you shut off the water, swirling your hand around the tub to make sure the temperature was fine. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you heard the sound of his belt coming undone, the buckle clanking against the tiles.

Do not turn around. Do not turn around. Do not turn around.

“You’ll be joining me, right?”

Why was he like this.

You stood with your back still facing him, your eyes now covered by your hand. “Just get in.”

The soft sound of Lando’s laugh filled the room as he finally got into the water. “You can open your eyes now. I think you’ll quite like what you see.”

He was not making this easy for you. Your diverted your gaze as you made your way to the door hoping to put some space between the two of you.

“You said you were gonna take care of me. How are you going to do that from the other room.” His mischievous tone made you stop in your tracks. Against your better judgement you found yourself staying in the room. Two can play at this game.

You located your shower gel and a washcloth before lowering yourself beside the tub. Why not have some fun with this.

You tried your best not to stare at the water droplets that dotted his tanned chest but you couldn’t help but enjoy the view. Lando was quick to pick up on your lust filled gaze. “At least we’re attracted to each other. That just makes life easier for the both of us.” Lando continued as you lathered up the washcloth. “It’ll make for a fun honeymoon as well.”

You opted to ignore the insinuation behind his words. “Let me see your hands.” You began tending to the battered skin on his fingers, washing away blood in the process.

“Where are you taking me anyways?”

His dimples appeared as he spoke, “It’s a surprise.”

Of course it was. “I need to know what to pack. Warm weather, cold?”

“Definitely warm.”

You continued washing his cuts and bruises before you were satisfied with your work. You stood up, tossing a towel in his direction. “I think you can manage the rest.”

And with that you were on your way back into the bedroom. Land appeared several minutes later, towel wrapped around his waist. You tried to ignore him as you gazed out the window taking in the sight of the risen sun.

“Are you hungry?”

The question seemed to catch Lando off guard as you turned to him. He was now dressed only in a pair of gray sweats. He sauntered over to the bed and laid down. He beckoned you over and you didn’t protest. His bandaged fingers graced the exposed skin along your waist as you laid beside him.

“Now that you mention it, breakfast in bed with my wife does sound pretty perfect.”

☽☽☽☽☽☽☾☾☾☾☾☾

Author's note: Did you like the update? Let me know if you want part 5.

Tag list Lmk if you'd like to be added or removed from it

@poppyflower-22

@jfang97

@1273lucifer1273

@timmychalametsstuff

@honethatty12

@sillyfreakfanparty

@formulaal

@blckgrl-sunflower

@2pagenumb

@notturlover

@dr4gOngirl

@noreri

@randomnessis-mine-me

@yl90

@livelovesports

@halaxxxx

@brekkers-whore

@avni-sarai

@odbdi727

@danielshoe

@viannasthings

@sillyfreakfanparty

@dreamerrosie

@sinfully-yoursss

@cmleitora

@marieday223

@barcelonaloverf1life

@absOlute1ynOt

@alana4610

@nightmaredressedlikeadaydream57

@kirajessie

@fullmugwolffish

@lovehollandy12

@gabbytaa

@leclercia

404 notes · View notes

lustspren · 11 months

Text

Flashing Lights ft Momo, Mina

length: 13.9k words✦

Momo, Mina & Male Reader.

genres: threesome, anal, voyeur, hard sex, double blowjob, creampie, striptease, oral sex, facefuck, bi, double footjob, thighjob, daddy kink, titjob, dirty talk ✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Budapest was one of the most amazing and historically rich cities you have ever visited on your vacation, but the tourist spots had run out, and with that the possible activities were reduced to a very few, among them, the well-known nightlife of Budapest. the Hungarian capital.

You went from disco to disco, from pub to pub, and despite the fact that a couple of these places had resulted in a very gratifying experience for you, you were looking for something more, something that marked a before and after on that vacation trip. You were completely alone in the city, so you didn't really have a guide or someone to show you in detail all the possible places you could go, much less the ones that were most hidden from the public eye.

You had been your own tour guide for the entire week you were there, and you were determined to continue to be so even if it cost you to get into some dangerous place controlled by some random organized crime gang. That was how you embarked on a tedious search to find that place you wanted to find so much.

In order to do this, you had to get quite far from the city center. You had rented a car from the first day you arrived, so it was not difficult for you to move freely through those unknown yet charming streets. You drove for hours on a clear and silent Sunday night, turning corners and stopping at various alleyways to no avail.

Feeling defeated and with no desire to continue searching, you were already preparing to return to your hotel. Grim-faced and slumped-shouldered, you U-turned a corner, that's when you saw it at the end of a blind street, a glitzy, elegant establishment that immediately caught your eye. It wasn't too big, and it didn't seem to be too crowded either, judging by the number of cars that were parked on the curb.

From a distance you couldn't make out what was on the few but striking signs that adorned the front of the place, it was when you parked behind one of the nearby cars that you realized (with your poor eyesight) that the signs were neither written nor in Hungarian or English, but in Japanese. Now, that was a peculiar place. Your brain told you that the most logical thing was to turn around and go back where you came from, but your heart screamed that you risked discovering what was behind all of that, besides, in the worst case it was as easy as getting out of there and going back to your hotel... right?

You were completely unaware of what the hell it said in the signs, and you were lazy to take out your phone just to use Google Lens, you could perfectly well be getting into a human slaughterhouse and you weren't going to have a fucking idea until you had an electric saw on your neck. Even thinking about all that, you got out of your car confident and determined, heading to the mysterious establishment.

The windows were tinted jet black, and the door didn't give much information about what you were going to find inside, either, the only thing you knew was that the owners of the place had to be quite wealthy, since the facade was made of obviously expensive materials, dark varnished wood, you didn't know the type, and black marble with small golden veins that reminded of gold nuggets.

You didn't know if it was open or closed, in fact, you knocked a couple of times without getting a response from inside, but the signs were perfectly lit and you were listening to music inside, so you decided to stop by. Bad mistake, at first.

As soon as you entered, you entered a wide corridor with shiny marble walls, adorned on each side by traditional Japanese lamps that illuminated the space in purple, under your feet a black carpet stretched that led to the end of the corridor, which you noticed that there were stairs that led to a floor below.

As you walked down the hall to take the stairs the sound of the music got louder and louder, and the reverberation of the place made you realize how big it was and how deceptive it was from the outside. You went down one step at a time, somewhat fearful of what you would find when you got to the floor below, but when you did you couldn't be anything but speechless.

The place reminded you of a nightclub, but it certainly wasn't, it also reminded you of a kind of private club, with a large bar, pool tables, and darts, but nothing further from what it really was. There were Asian women in provocative outfits of all kinds, from super-tight latex bodies to more revealing outfits like sexy lingerie or straight underwear that left little to the imagination. Some were waitresses, others were in charge of the bar serving drinks, and others were in charge of giving dances and acting as escorts for visibly wealthy individuals.

Astonished as well as confused, you took a few steps forward without anyone noticing your presence yet. Not knowing quite what to do, you put your hands in your pockets to walk towards the bar and ask for something to drink, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you, which pulled you and made you turn around. You came face to face with a stocky Japanese gorilla with a very unfriendly face, dressed in a classy suit and with a prominent beard.

"What the hell are you doing here kid?! Huh?!" he asked in heavily accented English, grabbing your sweater with both hands. The music was pretty loud, but the man's screams still stunned you.

"Uhm… the door was open," you said innocently, knowing you could get your ass kicked for your insolence.

"Out there it says: 'ENTRY WITH PRIOR RESERVATION ONLY'!!" he shook you hard, and you began to realize that you had entered the wrong place, full of the wrong people, "and you look so fucking broke to pay for being here."

"Oh, so that's what the signs said, dammit," you sighed, "so why the hell don't you have a bouncer at the entrance?" you asked, not wanting to offend or cause a conflict, but the Japanese man didn't take it well, his eyes filled with fury, and he raised his fist to punch you, but was interrupted by a female voice.

"Takashi-kun! Tomeru!!" the woman behind you exclaimed, speaking in Japanese. The man immediately released you, bowing to the person you couldn't see.

"Momo-sama! Hontouni sumimasen!" you were smart enough to at least know that he was apologizing. You stepped aside, so you could finally see the woman. You were completely stunned by such beauty.

The woman was dressed in a sleeveless black jumpsuit, high heels and long gloves of the same color. Her wolf cut and her slightly damp hair fit perfectly with her beautiful face, sharp features and deadly gaze. Her bare shoulders were unbelievably sexy, and you didn't need to see much to realize how big her chest was.

"Ima sugu koko kara deteike!" she exclaimed again, standing next to you without even seeing you yet.

"Hai, okusama!" the man replied with his head still down, turning to walk away. You just saw everything, without understanding a damn what they were saying.

"Please excuse him, he takes her job too seriously," she said now in perfect English, turning to look at you.

"No problem," you said, smoothing your hoodie, "but my question was genuine, why don't you have anyone at the door?"

"Because no one ever got here by chance, and the people who do never get in," she crossed her arms, staring at you. You started to get nervous, "now tell me, what are you doing here?"

"I'm a tourist here in Budapest," you started, glancing at her in short intervals, "I've visited every possible tourist and night spot, and since I still have a few days left here, I went looking for something new," Momo laughed.

"Yeah, you did have to search quite a bit to get here then," she said with a smirk, looking you up and down, "I don't know if you're very brave or very stupid, if I hadn't been here Takashi would have given you the beating of your life."

"I was just curious, and I don't know fucking Japanese to figure out what it said outside."

"You do know that Google Lens exists, right?" She asked that just to reconfirm your stupidity, she didn't give you time to reply, "You know what? Normally I'd kick you out of here nicely, but you caught me in a good mood today, and you're pretty cute..." She took a discreet step towards ahead, closing the distance between you but not too much, "where are you from?"

"I'm from the UK, beautiful," you said, trying somehow to flirt with her. She nodded slowly, still looking into your eyes.

"Do you know how many men I've slapped for trying to flirt with me while I was out of their reach?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and pressing her tongue against the inside of her lips.

"I don't know, will I be one of those men?" You looked at her in greater detail, her sexy bare neck and shoulders mesmerizing you.

"Not for now..." she noticed how you looked at her since you weren't being discreet at all, "just don't be smart with me."

"I'm a good boy, don't worry," you smiled.

"Very well, good boy, why don't we go to my office?" your inner self screamed with joy at that moment, you went looking for copper and found gold.

"To your office?"

"I'm the founder of this place, Hirai Momo, my pleasure," she held out her hand, and you shook it in complete bewilderment, now that was a twist, "follow me."

You followed the Japanese woman from behind, taking the opportunity to take a better look at your surroundings. You could perfectly tell how successful and famous that place was among the people of power, wherever you looked you would find some luxurious object or some detail that made you realize the amount of money that flowed between pockets. The men passed for every possible race, not just Asian, but every one of them seemed to have enough money to buy a fancy house on a quiet weekend, you could tell by the quality of their suits, how shiny their watches were, or the type of drinks that were on the tables in front of them.

Momo took some stairs that led to an upper floor, where you entered a long corridor where the red lights were dim but bright enough for you to see the sway of her sexy hips as you walked behind her.

"This is all built underground?" you asked, as she stopped in front of a door.

"Yeah, it saves us a lot of potential inconvenience to the neighbors," Momo replied with her hand on the knob, "but it was fucking expensive."

She opened the door, and you entered a spacious room that was mostly lit by the dim ceiling lights and the light emanating from the massive aquarium Momo had embedded in the wall to the right. The first thing to enter were two long light gray sofas with a marble table in the middle, and in the background on the left, two individual sofas in front of the woman's long desk, with nothing more than a Mac and few decorations on. Floating above the desk, a rectangular ceiling lamp. And in the corners of the room, 4 plants of the same type. Finally, a big detail that caught your attention was the pole that was installed to the right of the desk, but you decided not to comment on it.

"Wow, you're doing well, aren't you?" you asked, looking at the aquarium to your right.

"Contacts are everything, you start with a small grain of sand and end up with the sahara desert right in front of your nose," Momo went down two steps and passed between the coffee table and the sofa, "would you like something to drink?"

"What do you offer, Miss Hirai?" you asked, watching her walk towards a pantry to the right of her desk. You walked down the same steps, standing there with your hands behind your back.

"Whatever you want, sweetness," she turned to look at you with a peek over her shoulder and then to the pantry, "Gin, Whiskey, Vodka, Red Wine, Rum, Cognac..."

"A red wine is perfect and it's the fastest to serve for you," you looked around, looking again at the pole and then at Momo, wondering what possible use she had for it, but the answer seemed more than obvious.

"How thoughtful," she said amused, "Le Lucere or Pinot Noir?"

"I'd love to know about wine, so I'll leave it up to you," you laughed.

"Le Lucere will be," she agreed, pulling out the sleek black bottle and two glasses for red wine, "my god, sit down, you make me nervous standing there," she said as she walked towards you.

"Sorry, I never do anything in someone else's place without permission," you sat down on the sofa to the left, and Momo immediately sat next to you, much closer than you expected.

"Same there," Momo said, placing the bottle and glasses in front of you, then opening a small bowl that was on the table and taking out a two-stroke corkscrew, "my mother always said that someone else's place was sacred and should be respected as such," she began to pull the cork out of the bottle, and you couldn't help but observe how attractive she looked.

"Wise woman, definitely."

"Yes she is," she nodded, concentrating on applying force to remove the cork, "I wonder how she would react if she found out that I get all my money from an adult club and not a wheat processing plant."

"That's a big difference, what if she finds out?" wanting to take a shot, you raised your left arm and brought it up to rest on the back of the sofa, just behind Momo's back. She didn't seem to notice at first.

"She won't, I have enough money to cover up my lies," she replied, finally pulling the cork out and setting it aside, then began pouring the wine into both glasses.

"How humble," you teased, taking the glass of wine as she held it out to you.

"I didn't work so hard to get where I am to be humble, honey, cheers," she raised her glass in a toast, and you clinked it.

"Cheers, beautiful," you both smiled, and took a sip of the wine at the same time.

"Tell me, what are your impressions of Budapest so far?" She leaned back and turned on her side to face you, deliberately pressing into your arm and crossing her legs.

"Wow, I mean... the city is beautiful, especially at night," you said, "the people are very warm and friendly, and I love the architecture."

"Any favorite place?" she asked, staring at you as she took another sip of her wine, you imitated her.

"It will sound very typical, but Buda Castle blew me away. Fisherman's Bastion is also beautiful."

"Oh yeah, this city is full of amazing places," she nodded, "did you come with any family or...?"

"I came alone," you took another small sip of the wine.

"That's weird…" she peered up at you, "usually guys like you bring their girlfriends on these trips."

"I don't have a girlfriend, and if I did I certainly wouldn't be trying to flirt with you," Momo laughed.

"Are you trying to flirt with me?" she asked amused, "wow, I certainly hadn't noticed," you noted the clear sarcasm in her voice, "you'll have to do a better job of making that clear to me."

"And how could I possibly do that? I feel like if I try anything you'll kick my ass out of here."

"Well, you have two advantages: you already took the first step..." she placed her free hand on your arm and rubbed it slowly with her finger, "and you're too cute for me to want to reject your advances."

"Do you want me to get right to the point then?” You took another sip of your wine before setting it down on the coffee table.

"Yes, please, I'd love to know if you're worth it or not," unlike you, she drank the remaining wine in one gulp, then set the glass aside from yours.

"Alright, so let me tell you that you are fucking hot, beautiful and that your back and shoulders have me mesmerized," Momo looked a little surprised as you added things, but in the end she had a small mischievous smile on her face.

"So I'm fucking hot huh?" Momo made a short pause to slowly approach your face and raise part of her thigh over yours. Your sixth sense automatically kicked in, "Anything else to stand out about me, pretty boy?"

"First of all... can I even touch you?" you asked, your gaze alternating between her lips and her eyes.

"I don't know, try it and we'll see what happens," she murmured, shrugging her shoulders for a second, and then finished by bringing the rest of her leg up on top of yours.

"Well..." you placed your hand on her thigh, steadying it and pressing it against you, Momo smirked, "your legs are quite fleshy and toned, do you do gym?"

"Occasionally... keep going," she moved even closer to your face, now almost touching your lips.

"You also have lethal hips..." you said, raising your hand to her hip and then leaving it on her waist, "and some tits that at first glance already look delicious..." there you took your hand to one of her tits, giving it a gentle squeeze over her jumpsuit and causing Momo to bite her lip and stifle a moan.

"Fuck..." Momo responded by taking her hand directly to your cock and giving it a hard squeeze before straddling your lap, "you are such a fearless motherfucker, and I love that," Momo grabbed your face with both hands and suddenly smashed her lips against yours.

Stunned at first by your unexpectedly quick advances, Momo locked her thighs on either side of your hips, and took control of the kiss, directing it into a fiery exchange of saliva that heated the air in a matter of seconds. She let out little muffled moans against your lips, moving her hips very slowly back and forth, pressing into your growing bulge.

Coming out of your little trance, you finally took action on the matter and first took your hands to her waist, raising them slowly and ending up squeezing both of her tits firmly. Momo began to move with a little more intensity, and she separated from your lips to now dive into your neck, distributing little kisses and bites that made you gasp. Your hands now went to her ass, and you were met with a pair of firm, round buttocks which you also began to massage as she ground her hips against your bulge.

Things started to get wilder with each passing second, Momo was extremely turned on and you couldn't be anything but incredulous about your abilities to have managed to seduce a millionaire Japanese hottie. She reached inside your cargo pants and boxers and grabbed your hard cock, massaging it gently as she pecked your jaw. You kept grabbing her ass and every possible corner of her body.

"Can I suck your dick, pretty boy?" she asked in a whisper against your ear. You were about to agree, but then another presence disturbed your private moment.

"Momo-chan! Kore wa watashi no ude no naka de kay-" the girl who came in speaking Japanese to your right let out a small squeal of surprise seeing the two of you on the sofa, "Hontouni sumimasen!" she brought her hands to her eyes to cover them and curtsied.

Once again, you were blown away by another Japanese beauty. The girl was wearing a lilac feather coat, a small pink checked corset top, a short pink skirt, pink semi-transparent high stockings, and pink high heels. Her shiny straight black hair, her creamy perfect thighs, and her sexy abs left you speechless.

"Minari!" Momo squealed with a scowl, "What did I tell you about not knocking before coming in here?" Despite being upset and dissatisfied with the girl's presence, she didn't get off of you.

"I'm so sorry, it won't happen again..." she stood up again, you and she exchanged glances for a few long seconds, and then she saw Momo. Her English was quite excellent, practically like a native. Momo noticed the little exchange of glances between the two of you.

"Now that I think about it... your presence is quite timely, Mina-chan," Momo said, focusing her gaze back on you with a mischievous little smile on her face.

"Ah... that's good to know," Mina nodded, but then she frowned in confusion, "Why?"

"Do you have a client to attend to right now?" Momo asked.

"Īe," she denied, "I just finished a dance for one, I have the rest of the night free."

"You see, darling..." Momo caressed your shoulders with both hands, "Minari is one of my best workers, she's exclusive, expensive, and no one even has the right to touch her no matter how much money they drop..." she leaned forward to give you another short kiss, "Mina-chan, do you like him?" she asked Mina.

"Uh, what do you mean?" Mina intertwined her hands on her belly, staring at you from top to bottom, as much as Momo's body on you allowed her.

"Don't play dumb, Minari, does he seem cute to you? attractive? hot?" Momo pushed, extracting information from Mina.

"Well... he's certainly attractive," Mina agreed, "but no part of his body is visible to me to tell if he's hot or not..." she put a finger to her mouth to nibble on, after throwing that hint at Momo.

"Oh, sure," Momo nodded with a giggle, "well, do I have your permission, pretty boy?" Momo saw you.

"For what?"

"Show her your big hard cock..." she reached between your bodies and squeezed your cock through the cloth, "which by the way is about to go through your pants and mine."

"Only if she agrees," you nodded towards Mina, who was watching everything intently.

"Mina-chan, do you want to see our guest's cock?" as she was asking Mina the question, she grabbed your sweater and pulled it over your head to remove it, leaving you naked from the waist up.

"I..." Mina's cheeks slightly flushed after seeing your naked torso, "yes, I'd love to."

Momo wasted no time in getting down to business. She got off your lap and knelt on the floor between your legs. She brought both of her hands to the hem of your cargo pants, and looking straight into your eyes, she pulled them along with your boxers to your ankles with a single yank. Your erect, throbbing cock was released, and Momo gasped in amazement.

"Woah... Sugoi," Momo murmured with her eyes locked on your cock, she grabbed it with one hand and held it upright for Mina to see, "Well? What do you think?"

"Fuck... that cock is magnificent," Mina gaped, then bit her lip, "Are we going to fuck him?"

"You just do what you always do and then we'll see what happens," Momo wasn't looking at Mina, but at your cock, which she gave a slow lick from base to tip. You gasped.

"Should I start now?" Mina asked.

"No, come with me, I need to change my clothes," Momo said.

"Change your clothes? Will you do the thing?" Mina raised both eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh yeah honey," Momo stood up, "come on, you wait for us here pretty boy," she winked at you, and walked towards a door behind her desk.

Mina walked down the two steps and slowly walked right in front of you, staring at you and your cock with a sensual look before following Momo. You stood there alone, still unable to believe where the hell you got yourself and how incredibly lucky you were.

About 10 minutes passed when Mina came out of it again, now she had a remote control in her hand, which she used to change the light settings in the room. Now these have been changed to a combination of crimson and fuchsia flashing lights. You could still see Mina perfectly, but the lights on her added a more intimate and sexy touch to the atmosphere.

She put the remote down on Momo's desk, and then went to a sound system she had installed on the wall next to the pole. After a few seconds fiddling with things, the music finally began to play quite loud in the room, completely overlapping the music outside. The song played on the stereo was Hotline Bling. And at that moment Momo also left the room where she was, and you gasped.

youtube

Momo came out taking slow, sexy steps with her eyes on you to the beat of the music. For the first time you got a glimpse of her incredibly hot body, short black corset that made her boobs show off, tight shorts that molded perfectly to her wide hips and glossy boots. Her legs were perfect, and the little you saw of her abdomen had you salivating in your mouth.

You didn't know who the hell to set your sights on, because while you were watching Momo get on the pole and start with basic and slow movements, Mina was walking towards you with the look of a predator. She finally stopped in front of you, and you had no choice but to focus all your attention on her.

Mina pushed the table back, making enough space for herself to start dancing to the rhythm of the song. You locked eyes the whole time, and the first thing she did was take her feather coat off of her, she tossed it aside, and she started moving her hips in the sexiest way you've ever seen a woman do. She turned after a few seconds, and focused on moving her butt for you, with her hands on her head to hold up her hair so you could see her neck and shoulders. She then leaned all the way down, giving you a glimpse of her sexy white thong under her skirt and shaking her ass to turn around again.

Turning around, Mina took in your erect, throbbing cock, she licked her lips, and while she made sure to enjoy herself as she danced, she removed the little top that covered her chest to free the pair of her small round tits. She was now only naked from the waist up, and that was enough to make you want to fuck the brains out of her.

Mina grinned from ear to ear, watching your cock twitch and your mouth part. She took a step forward, and leaned forward so that your faces were level, you felt her breath against yours, and unexpectedly she placed a peck on your lips before straddling your lap. Meanwhile, Momo was at the top of the pole, watching you closely, circling it and exposing her body from every possible angle.

"Hey, eyes on me," Mina said, grabbing your chin and making you see only her.

"Fuck, whatever you say cutie," you gasped placing your hands on her waist, feeling your cock press against her pussy over the fabric of her panties.

"Feel very fucking lucky..." Mina began to move on your lap with sensual movements to the rhythm of the music, her modest tits right in front of your face, "The only people who can touch me are myself and Momo-chan."

"Have you guys fucked already, then?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, at that moment the song changed to Stargazing by Travis Scott. You could tell these songs were from Mina's personal playlist for her dances.

youtube

"Occasionally," she admitted, dancing on your cock with her hands on either side of your face, she leaned forward, pressing her bare chest against yours to give you another, longer peck, "but she's always busy just like me."

"That's a shame," you leaned in to kiss her again, and she returned your advances caressing your shoulders and then the sides of your torso, letting small gasps against your lips, "you have a body to die for."

"Enjoy it while you can then, because I think you're the first man to touch me in years," she smiled, and plunged back into your lips in a kiss that you didn't part from for a few seconds.

Your hands went to her tits, squeezing each one and caressing her small nipples with your thumbs. Mina pressed harder against your cock, grinding her hips back and forth as she kept up with the music. You left her tits for a moment, letting them squash against your chest so you could now grab her ass and give each butt cheek a hard squeeze.

"Mother of God, you have an amazing ass..." you murmured against her lips, feeling the soft flesh against your fingers, "that skirt hides it pretty well."

"Want to see that ass bounce on your cock, honey?" she asked with a mischievous smile.

"I don't even know why you ask," you gave her one last kiss before she got off your lap and stood in front of you again.

Mina turned around again, this time to hike her skirt up to her waist and slowly lower her panties just inches from your face, exposing every inch of her ass, along with her butthole and her pretty wet pussy. When she threw the panties on the floor the famous change of beat of the song was present. Mina flexed her legs, put her hands on her knees and began to twerk just above your dick, not touching it at first.

"Spank me pretty boy," she said looking over her shoulder at you as she shook her ass hypnotically, now brushing your cock against her buttocks. You did so, giving her left buttock a strong spank to then take your cock, straighten it up and rub your tip between her folds. Mina stopped twerking, and biting her lip began to lower her ass slowly, impaling herself inch by inch on your hard cock.

"Oh what the f..." you pursed your lips and stifled a long moan, watching as your cock was engulfed in her warm, soft folds, and then her wonderful round ass resting against your pelvis.

"Oh my gosh…" Mina moaned as she felt how your cock caressed every corner of her pussy walls. The song changed at that moment, and the vibes changed completely, now it was Love Is a Bitch by Two Feet. Momo had been the architect of that change, you saw out of the corner of your eye how she returned to the pole, and having a more suitable music for her, she began to undress slowly and sensually to the rhythm of the music. You couldn't help but see her at all times despite the fact that Mina had started to move up and down on your shaft.

youtube

Momo's body was the perfect definition of delicious in every possible way, she started taking off her corset, knowing without even looking at you that you were watching her. The black corset fell to the floor, and your cock throbbed inside Mina's pussy when Momo's two delicious melons were exposed, perfect size and pretty nipples. Her black shorts followed, and then her black lace panties. Momo's perfect and toned abdomen was exposed, as was her round ass, which had almost nothing to envy Mina's. She just kept her boots on, and with that, she got on the pole again to dance to the sensual music.

You focused your eyes back on what was happening on your lap. Mina was clinging to your knees with both hands, her pink skirt wrapped around her waist and her ass bouncing faster and faster against your cock, which completely disappeared between her buttocks with each of her movements.

"Twerk on that cock baby," you growled, biting your bottom lip, spanking her butt cheek then grabbing onto it with your hand. Mina immediately obeyed, and she began to shake her ass and move her hips now slowly, following the rhythm of the music for a few long seconds in which you almost ascended to the spiritual plane.

"Fuck, I didn't know how badly I needed a good cock inside me until now," Mina moaned, then went back to jumping on your cock and completely ignoring the music.

You gave Mina another spank, making her shriek and begin to continually crash into your pelvis. Your hands went to her waist, clinging tightly to it and tempted to pull at her gorgeous, shiny hair, but you didn't want to go too far with a girl who wasn't even planning on fucking you in the first place.

Mina's moans increased with the passing of the seconds, she had her nails dug into your thighs, and her buttocks jiggled like jelly thanks to the constant and aggressive crashes against your pelvis. She looked desperate for more pleasure, because of this, you leaned forward to grab her thighs and put her feet up on the sofa, each heel now on each side of your legs. Her hair (which had a delicious floral scent) fell over your face almost completely obstructing your vision, but you didn't mind that at all.

In this new position, Mina clung to the back of the sofa above your shoulders, and she began to jump on your cock again. This time you had access to her breasts, which you squeezed and massaged before pinching her nipples. Mina could only moan like crazy, frantically jumping on top of you and twisting her back.

She had been doing the hard work for a few minutes already, so you saw fit to take the helm now. You put your hands under Mina's thighs, gripping your fingers to them at the level where her pink stockings ended, made her stop, and you began to pump your hips quickly up and down, hammering Mina's dripping pussy.

Mina fell back, her back now against your chest and her head on your shoulder. She brought her right hand to the side of your face, rubbing her thumb over it and looking into your eyes between moans as you pumped your hips as fast as possible. You wrapped your arms around her slender body, hugging her and giving her all your warmth, then shared a torrid kiss with her.

"Oh shit baby don't you dare to fucking stop!" Mina squealed against your lips, her thighs trembling and her breathing extremely agitated, "I'm so so so sooooo close !!" Her lips met yours again, and you concentrated on pounding her pussy as hard as you could so that in a matter of seconds, Mina exploded with pleasure.

Her cries of pleasure were muffled against your lips, from which you did not want to separate for a second while she writhed on top of you and ground her hips against your cock, which was being squeezed by her throbbing pussy walls. You squeezed her breasts. hard, and she stuck out her tongue to swirl with yours between angelic moans.

"Can I cum inside?" you whispered against her lips as you pumped a little slower, and she bit your lower lip with a small smile.

"Fuck, you're bold aren't you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow with a somewhat tired look.

"Yes, I've been told that before," you gave her another kiss, and she clung to your face with both hands.

"Do it, but you better fill me right to the fucking bottom," she whispered, and you clung to her waist to resume your frantic pumping.

It didn't take you long to reach your orgasm too, it only took a few pounds against her extremely wet pussy for you to explode inside her between loud moans that you didn't bother to hide. Mina moaned with you, and rubbed your chin as you shot your load into her. You pumped slower, making sure that all your hot liquid filled her pussy very well, and after a few seconds, you slowly came out of her with a little 'pop'.

"Does that seem full enough to you, baby?" you asked with a small smile, while you felt some drops of your cum fall on your pubis.

"Actually yes, cutie," she reached a hand between her legs, and scooped up some of the cum that spilled from inside her pussy to bring it to her mouth as she looked into your eyes. She swallowed it all, and then she got off of you to sit off to the side, "Momo-chan, why don't you come help me clean up?"

Momo, who had stepped down from the pole and who had one hand between her legs with her gaze fixed on your cock, nodded immediately and approached you with slow steps of a hot model. She looked into your eyes, and you took the opportunity to get a close look at her statuesque naked body, especially her pretty and visibly wet pussy.

She didn't take her eyes off of you as she knelt on the ground in front of Mina, only as she dove right into her pussy, lapping up every drop of your cum and eating Mina's pussy in the process. Mina moaned, caressing Momo's hair as she wiped her clean.

"Damn, you sure are fucking delicious," Momo said, licking her lips and wiping her chin with the back of her hand, "but I need that cock in my pussy right now."

Momo stood up and straddled you quickly, bracing her thighs on either side of your hips and pressing her pussy against your lying cock, which soon began to return to its full hardness. From there Momo looked like an absolute goddess that you were willing to pray to every day of your life, her abdomen was perfect, creamy and toned, and her tits were without a doubt one of the most beautiful you have ever seen. That's how you let her know, taking your hands to her breasts to feel them, and they did feel like two soft cotton clouds, which barely fit in your hand.

"Her tits are amazing, aren't they?" Mina teased next to you, patting one of them gently to make it bounce, Momo giggled.

"I don't even know what to say… fuck," you gasped, putting your hands on her waist.

"You don't have to say anything, shut up and enjoy the best ride you'll ever have," Momo said, lifting her hips up and grabbing your cock to impale herself deep on it, "Fffffuck!" she moaned out loud, once your cock had disappeared inside her.

"I'm going to pass out thanks to you two, for God's sake," you moaned, closing your eyes for a moment and throwing your head back. Momo felt tighter, which was driving you completely crazy.

"Pass out once you cum inside me, pretty boy," Momo said leaning forward, pressing her big tits against your chest and grabbing your face to kiss you, as she began to move very slowly up and down, taking every inch your hard cock in and out of her tight pussy.

Your lips and Momo's became involved in a fierce battle that even involved your tongues, you muffled moans against each other, and you began to cover every inch of her body with your hands, feeling every muscle and every piece of skin from her back, to her shoulders, her legs and finally her ass, which moved sensually on top of you.

You squeezed both buttocks hard, and after a few seconds you separated from her lips to now attack the rest of her face with multiple wet kisses, going down her long neck, her shoulders and finally ending up on her wonderful tits, which you were incredibly happy to put them in your mouth, first the right one, taking as much as your mouth allowed and sucking it as if it were a delicacy, then sucking on her nipple and giving it quick licks that made Momo moan louder as she moved slightly faster on your cock.

Momo clung to your neck with both arms, one hand on your shoulder and the other on the nape of your neck, burying your face deeper against her tits, which you were eating like you hadn't even had breakfast that day. She seemed to love having her tits eaten like that, as she tangled her fingers in your hair and squeezed your cock even tighter with her pussy. Her hip movements increased in speed with each passing second, but she made sure not to lose even a bit of sensuality, in a perfect combination of rhythms that drove you both crazy.

You surrounded her body with your arms, and letting yourself be carried away by your carnal impulses, you began to pump your cock up and down, Momo stayed still, and let out a growl followed by a long moan while you pounded her pussy as fast as you could, which was already faster than she was moving. The sounds of your flesh crashing against hers overlapped with the music, which was now I Want Someone Badly by Jeff Buckley, and you muffled your moans against her soft mounds inside your mouth.

youtube

Seeing how Momo's entire body bounced thanks to the pounds she was receiving from below was one of the most hypnotic experiences you'd ever had. You wished you could see how her buttocks jiggled, but you were content to see how Momo's heavy tits bounced.

"Fuck, you sure know how to move those hips honey," Mina said from one side of you, who just watched everything carefully.

"Holy shit yes! Of course he knows it!!" Momo yelled releasing everything she had been wanting to vocalize since a few minutes ago when you were destroying her pussy, "But I'll make him fucking cum myself."

Momo separated you from her tits and pushed you so that you supported your back flat on the back of the sofa, she also made you stop moving your hips, and planted both boots on each side of your hips to start crashing violently against your cock up and down, determined to nail you to the seat with such force that you were going to be split in two. You gasped for breath, squeezing her tits with both hands as she bounced back and forth.

"I won't last much longer..." you said under your breath, but Momo heard you thanks to a small moment of silence in the song.

"Then let's fucking cum together baby," she put her hands on your neck, smirking at you as she bit her bottom lip and bumped into your slightly sore pelvis.

It only took you a few crashes to reach your second orgasm of the night, you jokingly said you were going to pass out, but it wasn't so funny when this time you had such an explosion of pleasure that your vision blurred for a few seconds. Momo cummed seconds later, and she pushed down hard to rest her ass against your pelvis as you shot your entire thick load into her tight Japanese pussy. She moaned loudly, unconsciously cutting off your breath with her hands and moving very slowly now in sensual spasms.

"What the fuck whas that..." you said in a low voice, once Momo had let go of your neck and returned her knees to each side of your torso, letting herself fall forward and resting her head on your shoulder while you still inside her.

"I told you, the best ride you were going to have in your life," Momo murmured in your ear, and then she placed a little kiss on your neck. She slowly lifted her hips, pulling your cock out of her pussy so all the cum flowed free. Mina quickly got off the sofa, and she knelt between your legs to lick Momo's pussy, scooping up all your cum and swallowing it without hesitation. She also made sure that your cock was clean, not taking it to her mouth but licking every inch of it with great dedication, including your balls now emptied by two hot Japanese girls.

"You'll be back tomorrow, is that clear?" Mina said from behind you, then stood up and spanked Momo, "I'm sure there hasn't been a more delicious and incredible cock than yours, and we certainly won't waste it."

"I'll come back as long as the boss agrees," you said with a smile, resting the neck on the backrest and closing your eyes to relax.

"If it were up to me I would let you live in here and make you my sex toy," Momo said, hugging your torso with both arms, "so that's a yes," she laughed.

After about 10 minutes the three of you returned to normality, Momo and Mina were already fully dressed and like new just like you, and they accompanied you to the exit to say goodbye with a kiss on the cheek each. You drove back to your hotel with a big smile on your face, proud of yourself and your patience for having waited so long for that damn place that marked a before and after on that trip.

———————————————————————

When you arrived the next night Mina was already waiting for you just downstairs, tonight she was wearing a different outfit, as expected. This time she was wearing extremely short jean shorts with no safety pants underneath, a cropped white T-shirt, and thigh-high fuchsia heeled boots. Her hair was also different, this time she had four braids on each side of her head, adorned with small jewels that you assumed were diamonds.

"Hello there, pretty boy," she said, leaning against the wall, looking you up and down.

"Oh, what a nice surprise," you said with a smile, offering her your hand to take hers and place a little kiss on it.

"Let's go inside, Momo-chan is waiting for us," she pushed herself away from the wall and hugged your arm for you to walk with her into Momo's office.

In there everything was in the same arrangement as the night before, same lights, and same erotic atmosphere. Momo was waiting for you sitting on the sofa opposite the one you were on last night, cross-legged and wearing an outfit almost as hot as the one she wore yesterday during the pole. She was wearing a loose-fitting, open white chiffon blouse, tight shorts and a black leather top, and black velvet high-heeled boots that were slightly shorter than Mina's.

"Just in time, sweetie," Momo said looking at you with a small smile, "I was starting to get a little horny with the sexual flashbacks," as you and Mina got closer, you noticed the peculiarity that this time the coffee table was completely empty. except for one thing: a bottle of lube.

"I see you prepared for this occasion huh?" you asked amused, pointing to the lube with your chin.

"I just want to do a little experiment today, if that's okay with you," she stood up and walked slowly to stand in front of you, Mina behind you.

"I can imagine where the shots go..." Mina grabbed you by the waist, you turned over your shoulder, meeting her face to give her a small kiss on the lips and then place your hands on Momo's waist, bring her closer to you and press Momo's tits against your chest, "so yeah, I'm in."

Momo put her hands on your shoulders and leaned forward to meet your lips with hers. This time there was no foreplay of any kind, and the atmosphere heated up very quickly in a very short time, you and Momo shared a wild and indelicate kiss, while Mina behind you kissed your neck and put a hand inside your pants to grab your cock, squeeze it and then start massaging it.

Your hands ran through Momo's body, caressing her slender legs and then squeezing her ass to start undressing her completely, making sure to leave only her blouse and black boots on her. Mina did the same with you, taking off your hoodie and your pants until you were only in your boxers, you took off your shoes, and immediately afterwards, Momo herself took charge of lowering your boxers to your ankles, releasing your cock ready for the Japanese hotties .

"Only you are missing," Momo said to Mina, who was still fully dressed. You turned around, and you both began to undress Mina while each of you kissed one side of her neck. Momo took off her top and bra, and you took off her jean shorts and pink panties, leaving her completely naked except for her boots.

"Momo-chan..." she gasped, while Momo played with her pussy with her fingers and you kissed her tits, "I want to suck his cock."

"We want to," Momo corrected her with a smirk, grabbing your cock and giving it a couple of slow strokes. Mina also added her hand on your balls, massaging them very delicately, "go sit down pretty boy."

"At your command boss," you nodded, going to sit on the sofa where Momo was sitting before.

Both naked beauties walked side by side to stand in front of you, they stared at you for a few seconds, and then they faced each other to share a hot kiss that made your cock throb. They touched each other, Momo played continuously with Mina's ass, and Mina played with Momo's tits, all this while they knew that all your attention was on them.

After a few seconds in which they both separated in search of breath, they knelt between your legs, Mina on the left and Momo on the right. Mina started by giving you little kisses on your inner thigh, and Momo grabbed your cock with one hand to start spreading little kisses from your balls to your tip. After a few seconds, they switched roles, Momo kissing your thigh and balls while Mina kissed and licked your shaft and tip.

A chill ran down your spine when you felt the hot breath of both girls against your crotch, Mina and Momo smiled, and both now concentrated on sucking and licking your balls. You gasped, and leaned both arms on the back of the sofa while both mouths left your balls well salivated, while Momo's hand gave slow strokes to your cock.

"Do you want to go first, Minari?" asked Momo, giving a kiss to the tip of your cock.

Mina didn't even answer, she just took your cock with one hand and brought it right into her mouth, making you moan and frown. She began sucking on your tip slowly, swirling her tongue around it as she moved her hand up and down. Momo just limited herself to watching with desire as Mina looked into your eyes as her mouth went down your shaft more and more.

Mina's mouth reached a little more than half of your cock, she placed her hands on your thighs, and between subtle beautiful moans she began to move her head up and down, sucking your cock so well that it made you shudder and moan. Momo smiled at your reactions, and she began to kiss Mina on the shoulder while she was concentrating on giving you a slow and sensual blowjob but also with a lot of saliva.

"Fuck," Mina gasped taking a breath as she pulled you out of her mouth, little strings of saliva between your tip and hers lips, "Momo-chan, your turn,"

Momo took you directly into her mouth with a deepthroat that took both you and Mina by surprise. You growled, feeling the tip of your cock touch Momo's throat for a few long and torturous seconds as her saliva spilled out the corners of her mouth. When she pulled you out of her mouth for air, she didn't give herself even five seconds of rest before diving back into your cock, this time to give you a frantic, messy blowjob.

While Momo slurped like crazy on your cock, Mina straightened up a little to be able to reach you and join her lips with yours, you moaned against her lips, and she caressed your chest with her hand affectionately. After a few seconds, Mina knelt down next to Momo again and focused on sucking her balls, slowly rising until she met Momo's mouth going up and down.

In a sudden coordinated attack, Momo slowed the pumps of her head so Mina could join her tongue on the back of your shaft, running up and down over your drenched cock. Momo took you out of her mouth, and found Mina on your tip to share a torrid and sloppy kiss with your cock in between, using their tongues too to make you feel like you're in heaven.

"Holy fucking shit!" you growled, bringing a hand to your mouth as Momo and Mina feasted on your cock.

Mina took you into her mouth once more, and sucked on your cock for a few more long seconds until Momo finally stood up, grabbing the bottle of lube from the table behind her.

"Okay, enough," Momo ordered, breathing hard and her face red with pleasure, "you're going to fuck my ass, right now."

"And then mine," Mina said, "you better do a good job, I fucking love anal."

"Oh you do?" you asked, biting your lip and giving her a little spank to her bare ass, Mina smiled.

"Fuck yes I do daddy," she said in an extremely sexy voice that made you gasp.

"Come here right now, boy," said Momo, who was lying on her back on the opposite sofa, her head resting on one of the bracers and her legs wide open.

You stood up and went with her, who handed you the bottle of lubricant so that you could do what you wanted with it. Having the green light with her, you opened the bottle and the first thing you did was pour a little on each tit, to leave them very slippery and shiny. Momo smiled, and played with her own tits spreading the lube, while you now poured it over your cock and her butthole.

"Come on, put it in daddy," Mina murmured in a seductive tone, who had joined you on the couch. She was kneeling behind you, her face to the side of yours.

You took your cock in one hand and brought it to Momo's butthole, applying just a little pressure so that it began to be swallowed up by her incredibly tight walls. Your shaft slid all the way in in less than a minute, and both you and Momo moaned in pure ecstasy at the pleasurable sensation.

"That dick is stretching me out so fucking good! Fuck!" Momo squealed as your cock rested deep in her ass. You held onto both of her creamy thighs, pressing them back and beginning to slowly rock your hips back and forth, making sure every inch of your cock entered and exited inside her.

"Fuck..." Mina moaned in your ear, "that looks delicious daddy, pound that ass hard."

Momo's tits began to bounce faster and harder as you increased the speed, and with it increased even more Momo's loud and high-pitched moans, which were like music to your ears as you pounded her ass. with every inch of your cock.

"Holy fucking shit..." Momo gasped under her breath, being shaken like a rag doll by your cock, "Holy fucking shit that feels so fucking good!!" she shrieked, arching her back and then biting down hard on her lip.

"Choke her, she loves that," Mina muttered with a giggle, watching you turn Momo into a complete mess.

You complied with Mina, bringing your right hand to her attractive neck and applying considerable pressure with your fingers around it. Momo tightened her ass around your cock, and her mouth gaped as she had her breath cut off thanks to your hand. Mina was right, she absolutely loved it, her brow furrowed, and her cheeks turned red.

Her oily tits looked too hot while bouncing to not give them their proper attention, so you brought your free hand directly to one of them, squeezing and holding onto it as you pressed hard on her neck. A small bead of sweat trickled down your temple from the constant shaking. You gave the tit you were squeezing a hard slap that made Momo growl, who closed her eyes and pursed her lips.

"Oh she's so fucking close.." Mina said, giving you little kisses on your neck as you pumped against Momo's ass, "don't stop daddy…"

You gave Momo another slap on the other tit, which now had a small red mark thanks to your hand, and then you brought your other hand to her neck to lean on it and hit her ass as fast and hard as possible as you could. It was a matter of seconds for Momo to explode.

It took a lot of effort to keep her still on the sofa without knocking you both to the floor, her spasms were so strong that you had to forcefully hold her with your whole body. You let go of her neck, to now immerse yourself in it with little kisses and bites, Momo was finally able to scream as much as she wanted, sailing through her intense orgasm.

From that position, Momo wrapped both legs around your torso, enclosing you between her thighs so that you could continue pumping in and out of her ass.

"Fill my fucking ass with that hot load..." she murmured, biting down hard on her bottom lip and wrapping her arms around your neck to kiss you.

Not more than a minute passed after that order when you felt the tingle going down your abdomen, and after a few more thrusts you began to shoot all your seed into Hirai Momo's ass. She let out a long moan of satisfaction, feeling how you filled her with thick hot liquid. You slowed down considerably, giving her a few more thrusts before standing back up and slowly pulling out of her ass, letting your cum immediately spill onto the couch.

"Okay, my turn daddy," Mina gently bit your ear, and pulled you off the couch with her.

"Fuck, you're not patient at all, are you?" Momo asked, still out of breath. She brought two fingers to her own ass and scooped up a large amount of your cum to take straight to her oiled tits, adding to the glistening coating of fluids.

"Not after he fucked you this good," Mina replied, getting to her knees and hands on the cold floor, you picked up the bottle of lube and knelt behind her.

"How much do you like anal?" you asked Mina, seeing her round and perfect ass below you, to start pouring lube on her bottom and then on her butthole.

"Every day when I get home I fuck my ass with a 7 inch dildo," she said bluntly, "does that answer your question?" she asked back as you smeared the lube over her creamy buttocks.

"I hope I'm as good as that dildo then," you chuckled.

"We'll see about that," she looked over her shoulder at you, shaking her ass slightly, "now put that dick in there daddy," she asked, biting her lip.

"You calling someone daddy?" Momo asked from the sofa with a mocking smile, legs crossed as she looked at you, "this is historic."

You didn't give Mina time to respond, you positioned the tip of your cock in her butthole, and a single slow thrust was enough to easily slide right to the bottom of her ass. Your cock disappeared between her gorgeous ass, and you two moaned out loud. Her butthole felt differentially better than Momo's, but clearly you weren't going to express that out loud, you simply dedicated yourself to enjoying it in complete silence.

"Oh shit!" Mina whimpered, dropping her head and resting her cheek against the floor, "feels just like my dildo!"

"Are you sure about that?" you started moving slowly, making sure she felt the full thickness of your cock stretching her butthole and making an outrageously hot scene.

"It feels better that my fucking dildo, fuck!" She covered her mouth with one hand as she scrunched up her face in pleasure, and you gave her a hard spank to her right buttock to make her squeal.

"That was just what I wanted to hear," you bit your lip, grabbing onto Mina's waist with both hands and beginning to pound her ass slowly but hard, making her bubble butt jiggle and shake with the rest of her body.

"To think that Takashi was about to kill him," Momo giggled as the two of you were in your own bubble.

You gave Mina another spank, harder and spicier, and then you started moving exponentially faster and faster, soon your cock was hammering into her ass at a high enough intensity level to make her start screaming and biting her knuckles. Mina's ass crashed hypnotically against your pelvis, and you couldn't help but hold on to her buttocks with both hands as you began to hammer with all your might.

"Ffuuuck!!" Mina whimpered with her hands planted on the ground, desperately searching for something to hold on to, "just like that daddy, give it to me daddy!!"

Prisoner of your deepest carnal instincts, you dared to do what you wanted to do so much yesterday. You took Mina's braids with both hands, and giving a strong pull back, you made her slightly arch her back with a torn cry of pleasure. You wrapped a small part of her braids around your hands, and with that you continued to fuck her perfect ass with all your might.

The sound of your bodies colliding took over the entire acoustic space of the office, even echoing off the walls and making the experience even hotter than it already was. You didn't want to let go of her braids even remotely, that way her back looked fucking sexy as did her ass, and if all that wasn't enough, her fuchsia boots also added a perfect touch to the equation.

"Cum all over this cock baby, come on!" you growled, pumping at full speed in and out of her slippery ass, "Cum and you'll have this fucking load as deep in you as you want."

"Yes daddy!!" Mina squealed, and you undid one of her braids so she could turn around and you could see the reddened, twisted face of hers, "Please give me your whole fucking load! FUCK!!" She growled from deep within her, and then clenched her ass in anticipation of what would be her orgasm.

Mina reached her peak of ecstasy in a violent and intense way, she pushed her ass back, preventing you from moving for a moment while her body shook like crazy between strong spasms and squeals of pleasure. Seconds later, even through her orgasm, Mina started fucking herself against your cock.

"That's it baby, drain daddy's balls very well," you gasped pursing your lips, letting Mina's ass bounce over and over against your cock until you felt your orgasm close, that's when you took control again.

You clung to Mina's waist again, and a few frantic pumps were enough for one last strong thrust forward, you will begin to shoot thick strips of cum inside Mina's perfect ass, who smiled seductively, looking back at your cock buried between her buttocks.

"Oh god daddy… you're filling me up sooo fucking good," Mina moaned under her breath, taking control once more and rocking her ass against your cock as you let the last drops of cum inside her.

At that moment, several loud knocks were heard on the office door that made all three of you jump.

"Momo-sama! Koko ni anata no sonzai ga hitsuyo desu!" said a voice familiar to you from behind the door.

"Fuck, Takashi really is the man of opportune moments," Momo said sarcastically rolling her eyes, “Sugu ni ikimasu!”

"Aw... you have to go, sweetie," Mina wailed, and you pulled your cock out of her ass still with a racing heart and heavy breathing, "an important client is coming, surely I should go too."

"No problem," you assured, massaging her buttocks and squeezing them one last time as you watched your cum spill from her butthole to the floor with a grin.

"Come back tomorrow, okay?" she said, kneeling up so she could breathe properly, "we're not done with you yet."

"No?" you asked, standing up and looking for all your clothes.

"Absolutely not," she denied, scrambling to her feet, "we still have you to thank for being such a good boy to us these two days," she smiled.

"Very good, very good," you nodded with a smile, "do you need help?"

"Actually yes, but come with me to the bathroom, we'll clean the three of us together," she approached you and grabbed your hand, leading you and Momo to the bathroom.

You, Mina and Momo were in the bathroom for about 15 minutes, washing your bodies and removing all kinds of bodily fluids from them before going outside. The two of them didn't have time to say goodbye to you that day, but you went back to your hotel happy knowing that the next day would probably be the best of all.

———————————————————————

The next night there was no one waiting for you just downstairs, the only one who stood out among all the girls and customers was Takashi, who just waved you in the direction of Momo's office. You bowed respectfully by way of thanks, and he bowed back as you walked past him.

When you entered Momo's office, apparently the fun had already started without you. Momo and Mina were on one of the sofas, both completely naked and sharing a torrid kiss. Mina was on top of Momo, with a thigh between her legs rubbing against her pussy, and both sets of tits pressing against each other. You cleared your throat to get their attention.

"Am I interrupting something, ladies?" you asked with your hands in your pants pockets. They broke the kiss, and turned to see you with an excited smile.

"We were waiting for you, honey," Momo said, winking at you, her hands on Mina's waist.

"I got horny and couldn't help but eat her pussy," Mina admitted with a giggle and biting her lip, "sorry daddy."

You went down the two steps, and stood a meter from them.

"How about you come here and help me?" you asked, and they stood up to go with you.

They both stopped in front of you, and the one who took the lead to kiss you was Mina, who took you by the face and crashed her lips against yours in a kiss that little by little became more and more intense. Momo got down to business with Mina, removing absolutely every possible garment from your body until the three of you were completely naked.

Momo was the next to kiss you, and while you were in a wild exchange of saliva you started to touch both of them, your right hand on Momo's sweaty tits and your left hand squeezing Mina's ass, while both of them had their hands on your now completely hard cock.

You tried to take your hands to her pussies, but Momo stopped you.

"Uh-uh, this isn't about us, honey," she shook her head, moving her hand slowly over your cock, "you'll be the only one tonight."

"Are you serious?" you asked, and they just nodded, little smiles on their faces.

"Of course we are, now sit there, you'll like this," Momo stepped aside and pointed to the sofa, you went to sit down, attentive to the Japanese's next move.

Mina went to sit right next to you, and she began to give you little kisses on the neck while she caressed your chest with her hand. Momo took out another bottle of lubricant, exactly the same as last night but completely new. She stood in front of you, and while she looked you in the eyes, she began to pour large amounts of lubricant directly on her tits, you were mesmerized, watching as she then spread it until she left her like two shining pearls.

"Ready to get completely drained tonight, daddy?" Mina whispered in your ear, while Momo knelt between your legs and took your cock to put it between her breasts.

"Fuck, I'm more than ready," you gasped, watching as Momo pressed her tits together around your cock, you automatically felt like heaven, and closed your eyes with your mouth parted as Momo began to move her chest up and down, making a meat sandwich with your throbbing cock as the filling.

You locked gazes with Momo as her lubricated tits did wonders for your cock, which she made completely disappear between her mounds with each pump, only the tip being visible each time she moved up. She smiled, moving her chest a little faster, making you moan and cling your fingers to Mina's thigh, who kept kissing your neck and now your clavicle.

You took Mina from her face and made her look up to crash your lips against hers and drown your moans in the middle of a kiss that she was happy to reciprocate. Momo, meanwhile, was now moving frantically up and down, using her tits as the perfect sex toy.

"Do these big tits feel good around your cock, pretty boy?" she asked even knowing that she wasn't going to receive an answer since you were submerged in a torrid kiss with Mina, but that didn't matter to her, it only increased her desire to make you feel even better.

"Make sure you don't cum on her tits, daddy," Mina murmured against your lips, "she and I agreed that I would have your first load."

"Let him have fun with my tits for a few more seconds, Minari," Momo said, tightening her grip on her own tits so she could press them harder around your cock, "I'm sure he's enjoying it, isn't he?"

"Fuck of course I do," you moaned, throwing your head back with a ragged breath.

It took about a minute for Momo to release you, finishing with a big spit on your dick and taking it to her mouth to suck it for a few seconds and then stand up.

"It's your turn, Minari, finish it," Momo smiled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and shaking her tits from side to side for you.

"With pleasure," Mina said, "lie down daddy, please."

You nodded and lay down on the sofa, resting your head on the armband while Mina was kneeling between your legs. She stood up for a moment, picking up the bottle of lube and pouring the thick liquid directly onto her thighs. You already knew what was coming.

When Mina's thighs were slippery and shiny she put the bottle of lube down on the coffee table and climbed on top of you. She pressed her chest against yours, and reached behind her with one of her hands to take your cock and put it right between her thighs.

Her creamy smooth thighs tightened around your cock, and you moaned loudly as Mina began to rock her hips up and down, fucking your precum-soaked cock with her thighs slowly at first. She looked into your eyes, your vision obstructed by her hair, which fell free over the sides of your faces; she smiled seeing your face twisted with pleasure, and cradled each side of it with her hands to give you an affectionate kiss.

You couldn't stop moaning in the middle of the kiss, prisoner of the immense pleasure you felt from having your cock fucked by a pair of perfect legs. She caressed your cheeks with her thumbs, and after a few seconds of leisurely rhythm, she began to move her hips faster and faster, which she knew how to do more than well.

"Oh my fucking god Mina," you gasped under your breath against her lips, but she kept kissing you, "it feels so fucking good, I'm so close."

"Good to know, pretty boy," she murmured now pecking your cheek and chin, "Cum all over my perfect thighs."

Mina concentrated on moving her hips as perfectly and precisely as she could, stimulating every part of your cock with her thighs until when you least expected it, you erupted incredibly hard. You shot your entire thick load between loud moans, which you were sure had not only landed on her thighs, but her buttocks as well. You squirmed under Mina, since she hadn't stopped moving for a single second while you came, which caused a slight overstimulation that you certainly didn't complain about.

"Mother of God," Momo said in surprise from somewhere to your left, "I've never seen so much cum come out of a cock."

"I agree," Mina agreed with a proud little smile on her face, "I feel all my thighs and ass warm."

"Let me help you, cutie," Momo said, and as Mina turned to face her, brushing her hair out of your face, you could see Momo kneeling down to one side of you to begin cleaning Mina's thighs and buttocks clean. She had swallowed every single drop of your load.

"Now it's Momo's turn, darling," Mina whispered in your ear, "destroy her mouth and that pretty makeup."

Mina got off of you, and went to sit on the opposite sofa to rest a bit, leaving you alone with Momo, who was looking at you from top to bottom biting her lip.

"Can you get up, pretty boy?" she asked teasingly, "you look like something out of Project X."

"As long as it's to fuck your mouth and leave you in a mess," you replied boldly, a small smirk on your face.

"Oh, you're looking forward to it aren't you?" She raised an eyebrow, "Come here and test me then, honey."

Momo left the sofa space and knelt on the floor, quite close to the place where you had fucked Mina's ass last night. You stood up, and went to stand right in front of her with your cock all drenched in fluid floating over her beautiful face.

"Don't spare her, daddy," said Mina to your left, leaning back on one of the sofas as she watched you, "that bitch doesn't deserve it."

Momo only saw you anxiously, licking her lips and waiting for you to bring your cock just a little closer to her mouth. So you did, taking your shaft with one hand and taking it inside her mouth so that she would clean it completely between sucks and licks. When your cock was completely hard and clean again, you stopped her.

"Stay still, hands behind your back," you ordered Momo, and she immediately obeyed her command, bringing her hands behind her back to then open her mouth wide and fully stick out her tongue. her for you

"My goodness, what a submissive," Mina teased, and you swiped the tip of your cock against Momo's tongue a few times, before placing a hand on the back of her neck and sliding your cock into her mouth.

You knew about Momo's ability to support a cock deep in her throat, so you didn't hesitate for a second to fill her entire mouth with your length in the first thrust. Momo's nose rested against your pubis, and you left it there for a few seconds in which you had your mouth ajar to let out a gasp. You placed your hands on either side of her head, and soon began to slowly move your hips back and forth.

You kept the pace slow and steady for just under thirty seconds, just letting Momo warm up for what was about to come. You continued to cling to the sides of her head, and with your feet firmly planted on the floor, you began to move your hips faster and faster, fucking her impassive throat between moans that increased in volume with the passing of the seconds.

It wasn't long before your cock started to get soaked with Momo's saliva, which was starting to spill out of her mouth and onto her perfect tits. Momo had no problem having her throat hit at that speed, but you were doing it so hard and fast that even she started making soft gagging sounds.

You took one hand from her head to flex a bit and give one of her tits a hard slap, intending to make Momo moan around your cock and send vibrations all the way down your shaft. Meanwhile, you used your other hand to grab a handful of Momo's raven hair and use it as a grip to move her head in conjunction with your hips to reach just a few inches deeper into her throat.

Your goal of leaving her a mess was beginning to be fulfilled, saliva was spilling everywhere and falling everywhere, and Momo's makeup began to run in the form of small black drops that ran down her cheeks along with her tears. You caught eyes with Mina, and she gave you a mischievous smile of approval.

"Give that bitch your load daddy, use her like a pathetic cum dump!" Mina encouraged you from the sofa, and you slapped Momo's tit again while you grabbed onto her hair with such force that you felt like you could rip her scalp off.

It didn't take more than a minute when the blood began to pump rapidly towards your cock. You didn't think about it at all before you did it, and you certainly didn't realize it, but instead of slapping her tit, you slapped her cheek hard (so hard that her skin was completely red). Luckily she loved that, so she moaned even louder around your cock, and that was enough for you to explode inside her mouth.

You pursed your lips and growled, pushing your cock deep down her throat to shoot the first drops of your load in there, then slowly moving your hips and starting to squirt all of your seed into her mouth. Momo's tears kept running down her cheeks, as she did her best job swallowing every drop of your cum, but still letting some spill out of her mouth and onto her tits.

You finally came out of her mouth, and Momo took a gigantic gulp of air, coughing over and over again with her gasping breath, her mouth and chin soaked in fluids and her makeup completely ruined.

"Fuck, you were serious about destroying me, right?" asked Momo looking up at you.

"Your little friend helped with it," you said, also gasping for breath as you looked at Mina,

"I'll take care of that little slut later," Momo said with a sigh.

"Aha, are you ready for our final little game or not?" Mina asked Momo.

"I am, but our boy needs to rest for a moment, don't be an anxious bitch," Momo said standing up and grabbing your face hard to give you a deep kiss. You took advantage of the moment to massage her tits, and give her a small spank on her buttock.

After that you three rested for about 10 minutes, just making out and playing with each other's bodies until you felt able to take one more round again.

"Okay, I'm ready girls," you said, sitting on the couch with each next to you, Momo on your left and Mina on your right.

"Well, I certainly don't think you are, honey," Momo said amused as she exchanged glances with Mina, who nodded and reached for the bottle of lube to sit facing Momo, feet on your thighs. Momo imitated her, and to your surprise, they started pouring lubricant on their pretty feet.

"Oh shit..." you whispered, watching both pairs of feet turn pearly shiny and slippery. Mina then poured lube over your cock, using her hand to spread it well over your length and over your balls as well.

"Ready?" Mina asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," you admitted, relaxing with your back against the headrest, and they both laughed before taking their positions.

They both leaned back a bit, so that they could slightly extend their legs and start working with their feet on your cock, and you didn't know how badly you needed to experience something like that until you felt their toes move along your entire length. You let out a long, deep moan, raising both arms behind your back as Mina and Momo gave you an amazing double footjob.

"He's enjoying it…" Momo said proudly, using one of her feet to stimulate your balls as well, while the other moved up the side of your cock. Mina had taken the other side with one of her feet, and her other foot stimulated your tip.

"Fuck yeah..." Mina nodded, biting her lower lip, working her feet all over your cock as if she had done it a million times before.

You were overwhelmed by such an incredible sensation, the two coordinated to stimulate different corners of your cock with their toes, the main focus of attention being your tip, on which all the slippery fingers swirled and made you squirm in your seat.

You considered yourself a man with a strong and resistant psyche, but faced with such a sensation there was not a single man on the face of the earth who could be strong enough to be able to endure it for much longer.

You clenched your fists tightly, and began to breathe heavily with your mouth half open. Momo and Mina noticed your obvious arousal, and they used both their feet to give you a perfect and fast footjob that made you moan even louder. You couldn't take it much longer, it only took a few more movements of her feet around your cock for you to explode as hard as the first time.

Your cum flew everywhere at first, but then it started flowing like a strong waterfall to fall on both pairs of feet, completely staining each of their toes as they moved their feet now slowly, making sure to milk you the best they could. .

"Fuck yeah baby..." Momo gasped, "you came almost as much as when you painted Mina's ass."

"Did you enjoy it daddy?" Mina asked, "my princess feet did the best they could."

"I don't even know what to tell you... mother of god," you gasped, utterly exhausted and with your soul nearly ripped from your body.

"Your cock speaks for itself, you don't have to say anything," Momo and Mina set about cleaning your cock, each taking a side and taking turns bringing your cock into their mouths one last time until they cleaned you again.

"We're going to miss you around here daddy..." Mina said a bit sad, remembering that you were a foreigner and that you were only there on vacation. You will be back in the UK soon.

"I'll be back, Minari," you assured, using her pet name, "rest assured I'll be back..."

———————————————————————

Spren Notes:

Man, that certainly was a wild ride. I honestly think this is (to date) my favorite Twice smut written by me. It is simply impressive and I am extremely proud of the result, I hope you are too! Remember! If you, dear reader, are interested in buying me a commission, do not hesitate to go through my inbox, I’ll be delighted!

#twice smut #mina smut #momo smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #tumblr smut #smut #x male reader smut #x male reader #x male smut #male reader smut #Youtube

3K notes · View notes

mistydeyes · 9 months

Note

hiiiii I LOVE YOUR WORK!!!!!!!! Can you please do 141 with a model reader who does Chanel,Versace etc and she gets an invite to do Victoria’s Secret runway and they see her down the runway how would they react

she’s not any model shes and icon,sex symbol,brains,she is the moment

big inspo for me ( I want to become a model)

AHHH I LOVE THIS! anon i feel you tho, every time i look on pinterest i just want to be a model! thank you for requesting <3

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: The 141 has always had an odd connection of friends, allies, and connections. However, they can't deny that they don't enjoy your luxurious life as a model and the perks that come along with attending one of your shows.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

A series of events in Milan allowed the 141 to cross paths with you. Staying in a lavish French penthouse was far from what they had expected on a mission dictated by Laswell but her connections with your retired INTERPOL mother had brought them the extravagance of your home and lifestyle. Laswell had to threaten to have their court marshaled if they delayed their arrival home any longer. You thought of that brief moment in summer fondly as you left Gaz a voicemail. "I have a runway in New York coming up, let me know if you'll be on leave," you spoke on the phone, examining your manicured nails, "accommodations and champagne are on me."

"This is nice," Price said, dropping his duffle onto the marbled tile of their hotel room. "Are you kidding, Cap?" Gaz said as he opened every door into the massive suite, "This is fucking amazing." When they got off the plane at JFK, they had not expected a private driver who brought them to the ornate hotel. The room itself had four separate bedrooms with two bathrooms filled with the best amenities. Soap had taken the opportunity to run over and open a bottle of champagne while Ghost pilfered the small shampoo and conditioner bottles. While the men explored the vast rooms and fought over the beds, there was a knock at the door. Price opened it to reveal a well-dressed bell-hop boy, holding a tray with an envelope. "Four tickets sent by one of the models," he spoke and Price handled the black envelope with embossed pink lettering. "Hell of invitation," he muttered before he looked at the runway time and shared the details with his team. "Wonder what she'll be wearing," Soap mused as he turned to take over one of the bathrooms.

Behind the stage, there was organized chaos with models running around in their silk robes in between the stations. The chatter roared as they chatted with the various hair stylists and makeup artists. "First VS show?" your makeup artist asked as she applied glitter delicately to your primed lids. "Yes, but not my first modeling gig," you smiled as you felt the pressure on your closed eyes, "Versace was beyond a mess compared to this." The artist laughed as she continued to prep your look. You could see mixes of pink and gold applied to your lips and the apples of your cheeks. "We think an olive green liner would look stunning on you," she said before holding a green eyeliner pencil in hand. You nodded in response as you shifted a bit in your robe. You gently closed your eyes again as you envisioned your latest outfit for the night.

Weeks prior you had visited the city to see your outfit for the night. A sage green bra and panty set decorated with pink and glittery flowers to resemble a meadow. Your wings were made of a delicate rose pink chiffon that was reminiscent of a fairy. "Do you like?" the designer asked as you walked around the stand and examined every stitch and detail. You smiled as you nodded happily, feeling the soft fabric under your fingertips. "Any particular inspiration?" you questioned as you made sure to feel the weight of the wings. "The newest line of Victoria's Secret," she spoke dreamily, "the delicacy of nature."

With your makeup and hair done, you walked over to change and receive the final touches from the design team. The group walked rapidly around your figure, assuring every detail would shine when the lights hit your walk. "Have anyone special here tonight?" one of the designers asked as he cut a few loose stitches. "Just a few friends from Europe," you spoke, hoping you didn't sound too entitled. You wanted to talk more but your odd friendship with a small special forces group would definitely reach some tabloids. "You look perfect darling," another designer spoke and you nodded before beginning to walk in your heels. "You can mingle with the others. Your collection is after the classics set," she reminded. You took a deep breath and made some facetious conversation with the other women. They were in awe at your previous shows but you just simply talked as if each was a mediocre experience. "Alright ladies, walk begins in five," a voice called over the comms and you lined up accordingly. As you watched the excited group in front of you, you wondered what you would treat the 141 to for dinner. You were sure if someone knew this is what you thought of before a show, they would laugh.

"Move up, Y/N," the stage manager directed, pulling you out of your food-related musings, "almost time for you to go on." You moved forward, getting into the comfort of your model walk you had done so many times before. You took a deep breath as you heard the live music stream through the curtains and the ethereal light peek through. You looked down at your attire one last time before the model ahead of you returned and it was your turn to awe the show. "Go, go, go," you could hear the stage manager command as the bright lights and menagerie of faces met your gaze.

"I think this is her!" Gaz commented, leaning forward in his chair. "You've been saying that for the past four models," Ghost corrected before he turned to see who was coming out next. As the men directed their gaze to the stage, you confidently strutted onto the platform. They were glued to your figure, perfectly accentuated by the flirtatious lingerie set. The details were delicate and encapsulated your aura. "Fuck." Soap whispered under his breath as the glitter and flower additions to your ensemble shimmered underneath the light. Your wings bounced and looked like they flittered in the air as you made your way in front of the watching crowd. "She's a natural at this," Price commented as he watched the way you walked in a straight line with an air of elegance in each step. He also couldn't deny the way you shined on stage and how the cameras clicked in rapid succession. As you reached the end of the runway, you took an opportunity to look over at the seats you had picked for the 141. You gave a small wink before blowing a kiss in their direction.

Upon your exiting, there was a clamor amongst the group as to who the kiss was directed to. Primarily, Soap and Gaz were at odds thinking you made eye contact with them as you puckered your glossed lips. Price attempted to put a stop to them before Ghost spoke up. "I'm sure that was for me," he spoke quietly, leaving everyone to shelf the conversation and bring it up later over dinner.

1K notes · View notes

upsidedownwithsteve · 4 months

Text

A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [5.9K]

THE TIMELINE

"Oh no, you know you know I'd be lying if I said I wasn't dying, For someone I could die for, someone I could try for Fall apart and cry for, go 'head, risk my life for."

-Someone I Could Die For by Lewis Capaldi

II. ROME, ITALY: 49 BC

The roar that came from the bowels of the Colosseum never became easier to hear.

The noise seemed to make the city shake, the streets empty, the market stalls abandoned in favour of bloodshed. The games took place in the summer, when the skies were an endless blue and there were no clouds to tamper down the climbing heat. The sun bore down on the sandy pit of the enormous Amphitheatre and the seats were filled, the doors that had already been closed still surrounded by regretful stragglers who were forced to listen to the chaos from outside of the walls.

Fourteen men had died already, three from the jaws of the lions, two from the bears and eleven from the swords of other imprisoned slaves. The cheering from the crowd made your stomach curl. The floor of the stage was covered in red, the sand streaked with spilled blood and the animals that were bullied back into their cages had their jaws tinted pink.

It wasn’t a joyous occasion, no matter how many people celebrated in the name of their emperor. The leader of Rome was sitting mere seats away from you, dressed in ruby robes that were slung like a cloak over his white toga and his laurel crown glinted with golden beads that sat tucked into the olive wreaths. He was drunk on wine and violence, and your father sat next to him in the royal box, ever eager to please as he clinked his chalice against his kings.

Being the daughter of Rome’s most beloved senator certainly had its positives. You were dressed just as finely as the royalty around you, the fabric that was made to fit your frame swept to the floor and only yesterday, the emperor’s cousin had gifted you a necklace made of the finest gold, inset with glittering emeralds, pretty enough for a princess.

The same cousin smiled at you from across the row, each seat in the royal box made from plush velvet, the high backs ornate and cushioned, unlike the stone carved benches the rest of the civilians were sitting on. You smile back, uneasy but polite, and your father nodded approvingly.

You were expected to marry, you knew that much. You were already considered too old to be unwed and you knew the rest of the court whispered about how you would now struggle to bear a child. But the man that was expected to be your husband wasn’t who you loved. He wasn’t unkind, he wasn’t cruel - not like you’d heard men could be. The girls in the kitchen would tell you stories of how their husband made demands. Shouting each night for their meals, their baths, how their shirts weren’t stitched right, how their beds would lay cold because their wives were too tired.

Some men visited the bath houses, you knew that much. Seeking out a lupa for the night, the ladies that were called she-wolves, with their painted lips and robes that showed so much skin. Some men decided that they didn’t need to listen to their wives at all, you were once told, horror etched on your face. Some men took what they thought they owned.

So no, the emperor’s cousin seemed kind enough. But you weren’t in love with him. You weren’t sure who you were in love with. A dream, perhaps. One that kept returning to you from a young, young age. A dream about a different town, one you’d never been to before. But in your sleep, it felt like home. White buildings and green gardens with tall, tall trees and pretty, ornate gazebos made of stone on the edges of shallow ponds. You were by the sea there, a blue-green ocean that seemed so calm.

Sometimes monsters came, the marble statues that guarded the city came to life and turned your dream into a nightmare. There was always fire and fury, storm clouds and too big waves and a man with skin the colour of death would try and take your hand. But even when the dream turned bad, there was always someone else.

A man, with a blurry face and a mess of almost too long hair. It hid his eyes from you and you could never make out too many details but you burned when you looked at him, you could weep when he touched you. Sometimes he led you through the burning town, his hand clasping your own as you both tried to run and run and run.

Other times, you lay in a bed with him, skin bare and your head on his chest as he murmured the sweetest poetry to you, words that made your heart race. Your dream was encased in white linen sheets, a hazy, soft light that always made it look like early morning and when the man’s lips met yours, you always woke up.

Him. You loved him.

You hadn’t been in love before, but whenever you dreamed of the stranger, you were sure that must have been what love felt like.

“Have some grapes, darling,” your thoughts were interrupted by your father as he thrust a plate of fruit and cheese under your nose.

But the fifteenth gladiator was being dragged through the gates by the armpits, a clawed hammer still sticking out from his chest and your insides turned over at the idea of eating such sweet treats as blood poured from the men in front of you. The emperor’s box was almost nauseatingly close to the fights.

You shook your head before you remembered your manners, smiling politely and murmuring, “I’m quite alright, thank you.” You blew out a breath, shaky and faint.

From your other side, one of the young girls who had been gifted to you on your sixteenth birthday waved a giant fan. A large peacock feather, a huge plume of colours that merely wafted the too warm air back and forth but you smiled your thanks at your lady in waiting, a pretty girl who’d turned into a prettier young woman. She was small and lithe, angular in the face with curls that came to her sharp jawbone and she smiled back.

Nancy, as she’d introduced herself to you a week after she’d arrived at your fathers house, from the Wheeler family of Liguria. She didn’t like the gladiator fights anymore than you did, always murmuring about the rights of the animals and how inhumane it was later in the night as she drew you your bath.

“—from Verona,” your father was saying with a mouth full of provolone. “One of their best, so they say, His Majesty simply had to have him.”

You blinked, frowning in confusion at your fathers words. You hadn’t been paying attention in the slightest and nothing you’d caught made any sense. “Sorry?” You grimaced apologetically and took a few pomegranate seeds from the plate of food in apology for your rudeness. “Who is from Verona?”

Your father rolled his eyes, a sure sign that you’d be lectured in his study later for your lack of respect. “The next gladiator, child.” He gestured to the stage where the soldiers were locking the gates to the tigers, each big cat growling with menace when the men came too close to the bars. “They say he’s unbeatable. Our Highness offered a more than generous helping of coin for his papers but Verona’s general didn’t seem to want to part with him.”

You frowned again. The crowd seemed to be aware of this man and his presence, murmuring and shifting in their seats in anticipation. “If that is the case,” you prodded. “Then how is he here? If the gladiators… owner—” the word left a terribly bitter taste in your mouth and you felt heavy with guilt when Nancy’s fan brushed your shoulder. “If his owner didn’t want to sell him?”

Your father snorted, an unattractive sound that made Nancy wince beside you. “No one tells the emperor of Rome ‘no’, dearest.” Your father shrugged. “The gladiator cannot be owned, if his owner is dead.”

Bloodshed. Always bloodshed.

A man came from the east side gates with chains around his ankles and wrists. You couldn’t quite see him for your seat, not yet, but the crowd above and around you roared, eager for the final fight to begin. The man already looked beaten and tired as soldiers stepped forward to unlock his manacles and you sat forward in your seat for the first time since you entered the Colosseum that day.

He had messy hair, dark brown and hanging just past his chin. It was already damp looking, matted and dirty from being kept god knows where as the emperor's new toy. He was shirtless, his body lean but corded with muscle. He had wide shoulders and a lithe waist, powerful thighs and skin that was tanned from the sun, a sure sign he spent too much time outside, training hard in the Italian heat.

As he moved closer to the middle of the stage, you saw the marks on his body, leftover scars and new slices in his flesh that still looked viciously red. The crowd got louder as a sword was thrown at his feet, a large, heavy looking thing with a bronze handle. Some cheered for the new warrior, hoping for some excitement, while others jeered and booed, already too attached to their darling reigning champion.

The gladiator picked up his sword and the crowd became wilder still, but he gave them no mind. He didn’t put on a show like some of the others, he didn’t flex his muscles or raise his weapon like it was already a prize. His leather loincloth was a deep wine colour, the tan leather pleats looking far from newly made and the material was already streaked with blood and dirt before his first opponent arrived.

Your heart felt heavy for him, as it did for all the others who were forced into the Colosseum - prisoners, slaves and animals alike. You watched the gladiator flex his wrist, testing the weight of his weapon just as the gates in the west cranked open.

Rome’s current champion strode out from the shadows and into the bright sun, his bare chest glinting with sweat and Hargrove held his hands aloft, grinning as the crowds went insane. He beat his chest, his long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and when he was handed his own sword, he wasted no time in running towards the new fighter, the steel blade glinting.

You gasped, moving closer still to the edge of your seat and you couldn’t find it in you to bear much mind to the looks your father and Nancy shot you. It wasn’t like you to take such an interest in the sport, never mind be so heavily invested. You didn’t like to watch the wounded, preferring to close your eyes when the screams began, hiding cowardly behind Nancy’s fan when the blood turned the sandy stage pink and red.

But this new gladiator, he was fast.

He dove at the last second, dodging the tip of Hargrove’s blade and he rolled towards the section where you sat. Dust kicked up from the move, his sword tearing into the wreaths and sashes that hung from the Emperor’s box. You grasped the edge of the wooden frame, peering over the side and down to the stage, hoping to not see blood already.

Instead you found the gladiator looking back up at you, his sword still in his grasp and when his eyes met yours, they widened. Something like recognition hurtled through you, a feeling that sucked the breath from your lungs and you felt dizzy, like lightning itself had struck you from the sky. You thought the man perhaps felt the same, a frown on his face telling you that he felt just as confused as you did.

But before you could consider where on earth you could have possibly seen his face before, Hargrove attacked again, bringing his blade down to where the gladiator's shoulder should have been, if he hadn’t rolled once again.

You were on your feet now, the stares of your father be damned. Your eyes were wide, your heart beating far too fast, like you yourself were on the stage, being hunted for sport. Wood splintered into the space under your nails as you watched the man run, his muscles pumping, his eyes narrowed.

“Darling, are you quite alright?” Your father placed a hand on your arm, more confused than concerned.

“Yes, I just— yes.” You cleared your throat and sat down again, albeit back to the edge of your chair. You could feel the rest of the royal party staring at you. “Where did you say the man was brought from? The new gladiator?”

“Harrington?” One of the Emperor’s councilmen interjected. He pointed a pudgy finger at the brown haired gladiator, who was now swinging his sword with as much power as Hargrove. “Steven Harrington of Verona, best of his breed I heard. His general didn’t take too kindly to the King’s offering and well— you know what happens when his Highness is made to feel upset.”

The metallic clink of the swords filled the arena as everyone held their breaths. Not many had lasted this long against Hargrove before.

“Rumour has it that he didn’t take too kindly to his general being beheaded. Took six men to get him into the back of the cart, even more to make him train. He’s been refusing food all week.”

The idea of it made you feel unwell, a sickly, creeping kind of pain curling around each of your ribs and suddenly you were starving, just as much as you were sure the man would be. But still, I didn’t seem to make him move any slower, it didn’t hinder him in bringing his sword down any harder.

But strangely, every time the new gladiator was struck, every time his knees hit the raw sand, every time he got close enough for you to see him suck in a gasping breath— you felt it too.

It was a battle like you’d never seen before, more vicious than the others from that day, a showdown under the blazing heat of the high sun. No tiger seemed as powerful as Steven Harrington of Verona did. There was something animalistic in the way he moved, all power and lean muscle, a steely glint in his brown eyes that you didn’t dare look away from. He moved too quickly for Hargrove’s blade, dodging and diving as he flung up sand, blinding his opponent and slicing at his legs. Each move was a blur, the stage bleeding with fresh red, the blonde gladiator on his knees.

But Hargrove was ruthless, grappling with the newcomer until they were both wrestling in the dust cloud and the crowd went insane, people chanted and stomped their feet, the amphitheatre shaking down to its very bones. The imperial box quaked with the energy, but truly, you weren’t present enough to feel it.

Your eyes never left Steven’s fighting figure.

The swords seemed to be forgotten, the steel blades rusted with blood, both fresh and new, and they lay in the sand. Fists flew, knees pressed to chests to keep the other down and it was brutal, it was harsh, it was deadly.

You wanted to vomit. You feared you might.

You wondered what would happen if you leapt from your chair, if you let your skirts get torn and bloodied in the mess of the stage, if you threw yourself down onto the sand and begged for Hargrove to take his hands away from the new gladiator's throat.

Would you be punished? Beaten? Locked away? Killed?

You weren’t sure but somehow, all the options felt worth it. You couldn’t watch this man die before you. Not when it felt like you’d already witnessed his death before.

But Steven wrestled himself out of Hargrove’s hold, twisting and tumbling whilst he gasped, one hand clutching at his reddened neck and the other grappling for his blade. He swung it through the air, arching wide, his wounded shoulder ripping with effort it took but the sword landed where the warrior intended it to.

Silence settled over the colosseum, the air still enough for you to hear the surviving champion heave out gasping, heavy breaths. There was blood on his hands, his chest, his face.

His right eye was already bruising, red and lilac coming to the surface of his skin like fresh blooms in spring. His shoulder was a mess, his right leg causing him to buckle slightly as he rose to his feet.

The man turned, jaw slack, his sword falling limply to the ground once more, his opponent still and at his feet. His eyes found yours and time stilled, at least, to you. The crowd erupted, an explosion in its own right, the entirety of Rome cheering for their new champion.

A man you were sure you already loved.

By the time the fight had ended, you felt beaten and bruised. There were no marks on your skin, no blood seeping through your gown, but something inside of you hurt all the same. It felt like something was clawing at your heart, a memory that was banging on the front of your skull, screaming at you to remember.

When the guards dragged the gladiator from Hargrove’s limp figure, he dropped his sword to the sand and spat a mouthful of blood towards the ground at the royal pit. The Emperor merely chuckled as others around you gasped and before you could even hear your fathers protests, you were on your feet.

Steven Harrington was shackled once more, the metal chains clinking around his hands and feet. And as he was led away back into the arches, the gears of gates making an awful protesting noise, his eyes found yours once more.

A burning gaze, too intense to look away from and you could’ve sworn on the gods, on the stars above, that something inside of you tugged sharply. Like the pull of a string, tied in a bow between your ribcage, urging you forward.

Telling you to go.

So you did.

You gathered your skirts in your hands and made your way to the exit of the box, too focused to hear your fathers objections until the guards at the doorway halted you with their spears. The wooden stalks crossed themselves over your chest and you froze, the string tied to your heart pulling tighter and tighter and tighter—

The Emperor was staring at you, with cold eyes and a smile that wasn’t really a smile. He spoke to your father, not you. “Where, my dear senator, is your lovely daughter running off to?” The king turned back to you, brows raised. “Doesn’t she know that more wine will be served soon? My cousin is looking forward to her company.”

Your father stared at you, a stricken expression on his aged face because everyone in the royal box could read between the lines of the Emperor.

You cleared your throat, eyes still trained on the sharp metal points of the spears that were very much in your face. “Forgive me, father - your highness - I was merely hoping to get some fresh air.”

“The sight of all that blood makes her rather delicate,” your father agreed and the crowd of councilmen, generals and their wives tittered in their jewels. “She isn’t one for conflict.”

The Emperor stared at the side of your face, something you could feel despite bowing your head in his presence. You stared at the floor and waited, heart racing.

The royal tsked. “What a pity,” he declared but he waved a hand, each finger heavy with golden rings, and his soldiers stepped aside. “Be back in time for the parade, child, you have company to entertain.”

The Emperor’s cousin leered at you, his wine glass empty, his lips stained ruby but none of it mattered right now, not when you were taking off once more, skirts dragging across the dust and sand, your chest heaving as you tried to navigate your way through the crowd that was already dispersing.

More guards, heavily armoured and with their swords drawn, were too preoccupied with a fight that had broken out between the arches, two lower class men arguing over a coin they found on the ground. Taking your chance, you moved with your head down, your face hidden as you slipped through a door that was normally carefully watched.

The heavy wood slammed shut behind you, the sunlight swallowed whole. Burning torches lit the narrow corridor, a maze of them leading you underneath the Colosseum. The hypogeum was almost damp as you tried to navigate its many walkways, a gasp leaving your throat as you took a wrong turn and ended up face to face with the iron bars that separated you from the animals.

A huge tiger growled at you, bloodied teeth bared in a snarl, the stench of raw meat and faeces hanging in the cool air. You backed away, eyes flickering from cage to cage, each one filled with another poor creature. Lions, bears, a rhinoceros and its offspring, and beyond them, an even larger cell holding prisoners. They all stared at you, men and animals alike, but nothing was spoken.

You backed away, unable to breath, turning on your heel and walking quickly enough to spot the familiar grey robes of the healers used after the battles. You followed, your steps light, and watched him enter a small room. Between the door opening and closing, you spotted the gladiator perched on a wooden table, his head bent low and his face hidden behind his damp hair.

You weren’t sure what possessed you, but before you barged into the room too, both men staring at you from the table where the healer held a ragged cloth to the gladiator’s shoulder.

“Miss, you have no need here,” the healer announced, his voice strict and cold. He narrowed his eyes as he gestured to the door. “This is no place for—”

“My father sent me.” It was a lie, of course. A bold and bare faced one at that. But you stood a little taller and lifted your chin, the emerald necklace at your throat shining in the low light that came from the small fireplace in the corner. “The senate has questions I’ve been asked to deliver. I shall not leave without the appropriate answers.”

On the mantle, beside bottles of acids and other medicinal vials, sat a small statue of the goddess Veratis. Her marble eyes seemed to judge you and your lies and you swallowed down the bitter taste it left on your tongue. But looking at the man - this stranger from Verona - the need to speak to him, to be alone with him, was overwhelming you to the point of senselessness.

The trouble you could be in if you were to be caught in your lie… or worse, down in the hypogeum. This was no place for a woman of your standing, never mind to be alone with a gladiator, both of you unspoken for. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat.

“If we may have some time alone?” You added with more authority than you should have held. “Unless you’d prefer that my father leave the Emperor’s side to ensure his orders are fulfilled?”

The healer sighed but placed down his tools. He flashed you a smile that was all crooked teeth, more bite than kindness, but he made his way to the door. “That won’t be necessary, My Lady,” he told you and he left, closing the wooden door behind him.

The silence was a deafening thing. The crackle of the fire was still there, the distant roar of some poor, wounded animal, but whatever was held between the two of you took on a life of its own. It seemed to suck the rest of the world into it until there was nothing left but you and this man. He was staring at you still, brown eyes wide and so familiar, looking as confused as you felt as you stared right back.

It felt too easy to take a step forward, but the warrior flinched. Your next was slower, softer, more cautious. Your hand found the rag that the healer had once held, what little water it had been soaked in was cold, the material harsh. It didn’t take you long to find a new cloth in one of the drawers of the apothecary table and you took your time to warm some fresh water over the hearth.

Honestly, you didn’t know too much about medicine, only the basics that your father’s head servant had taught you as a young child. You found the small bottle of alcohol with ease, plucking it from the shelf and adding it to the warm water before soaking the new rag.

You held it up in offering to the man, still far enough from you that his dirty hair hid most of his face. His tanned chest was streaked with sweat and dust, marred with old cuts and fresher wounds from Hargrove’s weapon, but for the most part, he seemed okay.

“Can I?”

The gladiator lifted his head then, his hair falling away from his cheeks and you took in a sharp breath at the sight of his face. He was handsome, painstakingly so, but over and above all else, he was someone you were sure you knew.

The man nodded, just once, lips pressed together and as you came closer, his nostrils flared and his large hands gripped the edge of the table. His eyes raced across your features, recognition coming to the surface and before he could ask the questions that were clawing at his throat, you lifted the cloth and pressed it to the cut on his shoulder.

He hissed, teeth bared and you frowned, hushing him softly, apologies murmured just as quiet. “I’m sorry,” you told him and gods, he knew you meant it. “I need the alcohol to soak the wound.”

Your heart stuttered when he let you, shoulders tight and back ramrod straight, but his eyes were on your face the entire time you worked. “You’re not a healer,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

His voice rung through you, a deep timber that was hoarse and scratchy, no doubt from refusing to speak since his capture. You hoped he’d been drinking enough water.

You shook your head as you pulled away, dipping the bloodied cloth back into the bucket. “No, I’m not,” you confirmed.

Another swipe at his skin had him jerking in response but the blood and dirt was finally clear of the cut. It would need stitches, you were almost sure of it, but your skills started and finished at the basics.

“Then why are you here?” The gladiator’s eyes were trained on your necklace, a sure fire way to recognise nobility and you were overcome with the urge to rip it from your throat. “Why did you follow me?” He spoke like he already knew the answer.

You were hesitant about it, but you couldn’t stop your hand from lifting to his neck, fingertips brushing two beauty marks on his skin. They felt electric under your touch and you were impossibly warmer now, despite the old cell lacking the heat from the summer above.

“I feel like I know you,” you whispered. Your voice cracked with an emotion you didn’t quite know the name of. “I feel like I’ve mourned you.”

The gladiator looked back at you from behind his damp hair, the long strands matted with his and his enemies blood. He didn’t look as concerned as he should have been at your strange words. In fact, he leaned into your touch, lashes fluttering at the sensation.

“What an odd thing to say to someone who hasn’t died,” he answered quietly. But his gaze roamed over your features and something about being so close to him felt cosmic, it felt like a catastrophe waiting to happen. “I think I’ve met you before,” the gladiator whispered. He sounded reverent now, his own hand shaking as he brought it to your face.

He cupped your jaw, your chin, his rough fingertips trailing over your soft skin and when his thumb dragged across your bottom lip, you gasped and pressed closer.

“I think I meet you when I sleep,” he said and he frowned at his own words, at how confusing he must’ve sounded. “Every night, when I close my eyes. You’re in a garden and then you’re in my arms.”

Flashes of a bed came to mind, white linen sheets and too much bare skin. A man’s chest, tanned and muscled from hard labour, your hands that roamed the expanse of his back. You remembered how he kissed you in your dreams, with a longing so intense it could waken the gods.

Like he had enough love for you that he could end the world.

You could only nod. His thumb was still pushed to your bottom lip, your mouth parted as if you were waiting and his stare was so intense you felt warmer than you had in the stadium above.

Who was this stranger?

And why did it feel like something inside of you was being stitched back together by the sheer sight of him? His touch felt healing, it felt like home. Like it was only made for you to feel. Like he was made only for you.

Above, something boomed. Loud enough to be heard underneath the hypogeum, over the roars of the unsettled animals. If you had been outside, you would’ve witnessed the blue sky turning grey, shades of moody lavender and navy, storm clouds rolling across Rome from seemingly nowhere.

Thunder rumbled, threatening noise, something that made you and the man move closer to each other, like you both knew you were in danger.

That you knew something bad was coming.

“I don’t understand,” you said, eyes blurring. You weren’t sure why you were crying but Steve didn’t seem to question it. He merely swiped away the tears that slipped down your cheeks. “You’re a stranger— we’ve never— we’ve never met.”

Despite your words, the gladiator moved closer, standing from his seat on the wooden table to lean his forehead against your own. Your eyes slipped closed, nose bumping his. He smelled like metal, like blood and dirt and sweat but underneath there was something like fire there, like molten iron, like lavender fields and fresh cotton. Like a daydream, like something you weren’t sure was real.

His bottom lip touched your top one, only just, only barely. A whisper of a kiss, a small insight of something that could’ve been, of something that maybe once was.

Thunder rolled again, louder than before, as if it was right above you both. Even over the din of the crowds above, you could hear the heavy patter of rain that was now flooding the colosseum, the stage soaked. Another warning, something you’d seen before in a dream just before it turned to a nightmare.

“I was meant to find you,” Steve murmured. He had your face cradled in his hands, an overwhelmingly gentle touch despite the dried blood under his fingernails. His voice grew in urgency then, like he knew something was coming. Someone. “I was meant to come here. I can feel it. I understand now.”

“Someone once told me you’d come back,” you suddenly remembered, your voice eager, your eyes wide at the memory. “I don’t know— was it you? From before? From—”

From another life, you wanted to say.

How ridiculous those words were, how silly, how stupid. But there wasn’t any other way to explain. Logic didn’t seem to exist when everything you felt from this touch of this stranger led you to believe that somehow, someway, you’d spend a lifetime together.

Like you were supposed to spend this one with him too. And it didn’t seem long enough, decades wouldn’t make up for the time you’d lost searching for him, for this stranger who only came to you in your sleep. But he was very real now, solid flesh and bone underneath your own hands, brown eyes that seemed warmer than the Italian summer.

You didn’t want to let him go.

“In here, my King,” a voice interrupted. The door was open and the healer had returned, a cold look on his already stern face. The Emperor was behind him, ruby robes collecting dirt from the old floor. Four soldiers flanked him. “I have every reason to believe the Lady sold me lies, Your Highness.”

It happened too quick. Too fast.

The Emperor studied you, Steve’s hands still on your face as you stood too close, ready to kiss, ready to fulfil something neither of you were sure of. It felt catalytic.

“Seize him,” was all the Emperor said, one lazy flick of his wrist sending all four guards at you both.

There was too much movement in the tiny room, bottles of medicinal wares clattering to the ground and smashing at your feet. The table groaned as Steve was shoved into it, his own reactions too slow from his injuries. He grunted and reached for you too late, his hand slipping from your own, fingers barely touching, as he was shoved at from either side.

One soldier shoved the butt of his sword into Steve’s wounded soldier, the other bringing his armoured knee into his bare stomach. The gladiator doubled over, a gasp leaving his chest before he fell to his knees on the stone floor.

“Stop this!” You yelled, urging forward, trying your best to throw yourself into the mix of it all but someone’s arms - another soldier - caught your round the middle. “Unhand him! Your Highness - please - he hasn’t done any wrong, please—”

The Emperor just looked at you blankly before he picked at the jewels around your neck. He tutted, as if it were a shame, a waste. You could hear the shackles being placed back on the man, the low groan he gave as the metal was tightened around his sore wrists.

“He won,” you whispered, your voice low and choked. You were ready to beg. “Please, he won. He doesn’t deserve this—”

“I don’t like anyone else playing with my toys,” the Emperor interrupted. He said it like he was discussing what to have for lunch. “And my dear cousin doesn’t like anyone playing with his.” He motioned to the guards once more. “Take her back to her seat, where you make sure she stays. This isn’t any place for a Lady,” he told you mournfully.

You didn’t get to see what happened to the gladiator as you were escorted out of the room. But you did hear his yells when the door slammed shut, the dull thuds of impact that you were sure were on his already bruised and broken body. You hadn’t even told him your name, or that you dreamt of him too. That during your worst night terrors, he was the one that saved you.

When you reached the imperial box once more, your skirts dirtied from the sand, your face tear stricken, you felt broken. Like you’d been snapped in half, like someone had found that wound Steve had stitched up and pulled it apart again the seams. Like someone had ripped something important from you, half of your heart, perhaps.

You didn’t even notice that it had stopped raining. The skies were blue once more, the sun shining, the only evidence of the sudden storm were the drops of rain that had soaked into the pillow on your chair.

Steve was gone and the thunder was too.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot

625 notes · View notes