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fairene · 3 months

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beneath the moonlight / ln4

vacay lando norris x maxf!littlesister

no use of y/n, as always.

prompt ⋯ ohhh hey ! wanted to stop by to say i love ur fic and wanted to request insatiable lando with max f’s sister like a forbidden summer fling with all their friends and no one’s supposed to know about their secret relationship ( especially max ) — @444mercss

a/n ⋯ this was much longer than i intended, but the words just kept flowing out of me. thank you to all those who beta read my post and helped with grammar!!! ( @jamminvroomvroom , @theonottsbxtch ) you all helped so much. and thank you to mercs for requesting this. i didn't know i'd enjoy it as much as i did, but it definitely was for 20k words. i'll probably take a week ( or maybe not ) off from writing just to give myself a cool down period, but still here to answer any asks. feel free to pop in. hope you all enjoy this, and remember, readers looks are up for interpretation, along with the outfits. colors of coloring are mention only briefly!

warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, drinking, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, oral(m+f)!receiving, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, feral lando. best friends little sister, brothers best friend dynamic, mutual pining, 'games', horny thoughts. much, much more. but even, possession, jealousy. if i forgot any warnings, feel free to let me know.

wc ⋯ 20.1k (WHEWWW WEEE... edited by @jamminvroomvroom, @theonottsbxtch)

the summertime was one of your favorites. you and all of the rest of your girlfriend’s would spend each and every day together without question. but as time went on, they got their own lives. partners, engagements, jobs. not to say that you weren’t an accomplished young lady, but it was starting to show that you were hung up on a life that was starting to fade.

your brother on the other hand, was keen on keeping you in this life. in tip top shape on your toes, he’d always challenge you in a multitude of ways. or annoy you to no end. typically it was the latter.

but he had invited you this summer on vacation with his friends. you knew them all relatively well, texted here and there, but you never imagined to be trailing along on a villa getaway sponsored by the quadrant house, mainly the famous lando norris himself.

you would be shy to admit it, but you had a bit of a soft spot for lando. him and his cheeky smile. the moles that donned his face. his starlit eyes that radiated an emerald hue beneath the sunlight. it was intangible the way that you could pick apart the details about his nuanced beauty, but it was a secret for you to keep. a secret that no one, especially your brother, could ever find out about.

but that’s all that it was, wasn’t it?

a dream. a pathetic fantasy. you wouldn’t ever gain the courage to talk to him, make a move, despite how often him and max talk about going on dates with girls. talking about his love life, or the rather drab there of. he fucked around a lot, max knew that, and would consistently warn you to never get wrapped up in the same lifestyle as the british driver. you’d hold up your hands in defense, shrieking a ‘don’t worry about me,’ though you wish you gave him a reason to.

why did you feel undeserving of lando– because he was a formula one driver? attractive? charming? were you afraid that you were going to be friendzoned–? oh god, that would be the fucking worst, wouldn’t it? you could never imagine the hangouts being the same. so you’d bite your tongue until it bled, even when your body yearned for the heat of his own.

the villa that you would be staying at was on lake como in italy. it was a beautiful venue, a place that you’d been dreaming of visiting. max knew this, hence why he’d probably sniped you an invite. but it wasn’t like no one wanted you there. everyone did. that was the problem. you were so incredibly loved by all of max’s friends, that he kept them at arm’s length. no one would ever hurt his little sister. not while he was still breathing.

“wow,” you breathed, stepping out of the uber from the airport. the house before you was a stunning makeup of eccentric architecture that dated decades before your own birth. it was a grand building with tall, marble columns. thoroughly decorated landscaping, and even had running fountains in the front. you were so lost in your awe that you didn’t see the huge pair of mahogany doors swing open.

“max,” you turned your head towards your brother who was grabbing your bags from the trunk. you shifted to the source of the voice, finding the british driver standing barefoot with a beach flannel and short-inseam khaki shorts low around his waist. you gulped before looking anywhere else but him.

“lando!” max approached him, arm outstretched for a shake. lando met him half way down the marbled steps, taking his sunglasses off from the top of his head.

“how was the flight, mate? good?” max nodded for the both of you whilst you fiddled with the accessories around your hands. you didn’t ever know what to say to lando. you found yourself unbelievably speechless in his presence.

“not too bad, ‘specially if this is what you’ve got.” lando chuckled at your brother’s words, and then his eyes finally landed on you. you and your comfortable outfit from the plane ride over. you and your pulled back hair, respectfully messy, and the jewelry that adorned your fingers. his eyes caught over the bling, and how you anxiously picked away at the skin.

“never thought she’d grace our presence,” lando said jokingly, which had your head snapping upright. you flushed, sucking your bottom lip with your teeth.

max rolled his eyes, avoidant of the topic of you in general. “whatever, mate, she’s here now, in’she?” what? what was that supposed to mean? was your presence requested? you suddenly felt wanted above all things.

“she certainly is.” lando approached you with his tongue tucked behind his bottom lip, hasty in his steps. you stood up straighter with a light smile on your face, eyes twinkling away from his own. you couldn’t keep eye contact with him. “c’mon, love, i’ll take your bags.”

“are you sure? i can take–”

the bags were grabbed from your hands. you felt the palm of his own for just a moment— the warm flesh, humming low against his own. you felt like he spoke to you through your blood, but you let it go. lando norris wasn’t giving you special attention, that’s for sure.

you promised yourself that much. this whimsical, airy crush of yours needed to be vetted on the spot. he was your brother’s best friend, older than you, and certainly didn’t have time for a girl who wasn’t a celebrity.

right?

he took your bags through the exquisite villa. the interior was even more luxurious than you could ever imagine– floor to ceiling windows, candlelit ceiling lights, flora decorating each wall that you turned to. it smelled delectable, too, wafting germanium and coconut oil. the smile on your face couldn’t be ignored, as you shimmered brighter than the summer sun.

“you like it, then?” came lando’s voice. your head dropped, glancing at him from where he stood, waiting for you to join him on the steps. had he been watching your face?

“you’re joking.” you assured, hands clasped together. “it’s beautiful.”

lando smiled then, too, letting his lower lip snatch between his top teeth. he tried hard to conceal his happiness, but you felt like you could feel it amongst the air. you felt warm all of a sudden and cleared your throat, urging him forward up the spiraling staircase.

you walked in silence with him down the long corridors. you would pause before each door briefly, wondering if he was going to open it, but he didn’t. it wasn’t until you were reaching the ends of the hallway when he stopped, twisting the knob of the white wooden door. he stood aside, letting you in first.

the room you’d be staying in for the next few weeks was more than you could ever dream of. with its spacious interior, personal bathroom, and private balcony, you felt like the luckiest girl alive to be able to experience this. to live in this moment. to be here. in italy, of all places.

lando interrupted your dreaming haze by sliding the bags in. you turned to face him in your unruly, exhausted glory, and he stared at you. a hand of his found the back of his neck.

“so…dinner tonight at seven, pool day tomorrow, um…” he looked around, acting as if he could suddenly have the words appear into his head. “oh and, if you need anything, my room’s just next door.”

he said it with haste, as if he were shy about the fact, and was already stepping out the door.

“wait,” you said, stepping forward. lando hung back, gripping onto the door frame, swinging his head back into the room. “thank you.”

the words seemed to hit him harder than you thought that it would. he blushed a light red, dimming his tanned face, and cleared his throat before nodding. “of course.” he said with out hesitance, making it clear that he would do this for anyone. “‘m glad you’re here.”

and then he was gone.

you stared at the shut door in stunned silence. did you really hear him correctly?

you didn’t let your thoughts linger too long, but you couldn’t help but let it. the curly-haired brunette stayed in your mind whilst you settled in and unpacked. all ounce of his shy, gaunt nature.

by the evening you were more than settled and relaxed. you’d taken a small nap to rejuvenate your energy, and just in the nick of time for dinner. you got ready amply, sliding a comfortable dress over the surface of your body. the straps were thin and fell loose upon your collarbones. you’d pair an elegant pair of low rise heels on your feet, pointy-toed, that matched the color of your dress.

you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the dim yellow lighting illuminating the corners of your face that you so frequently forgot to appreciate. it was in the hours of the night that you could appreciate yourself, unopposed to the gawking looks of strangers.

there was a soft knock on your door at 6:57. you turned, dress swaying from your movements, and cracked it open.

lando stood there on the other side. him and his dark shirt and khaki pants. he wore a pair of leather black loafers that matched his shirt. he smelled good, too, a masculine tint of sauvage.

no words were spoken between the two of you. you simply stared at one another, lost in each other’s features. you resisted the urge to trace the moles on his face with a finger, whilst he fought himself to not reach out and run his hands along the fabric of your dress.

his eyes softened when you met his, cheeks filled with a simple kind of joy. the two of you were done ogling at one another, still foreign in each other’s presence.

“ready?” he asked. you nodded, grabbing a matching handbag from the countertop and slung it over your arm. you shut the door to your room behind you and walked a few paces behind lando. you weren’t close with him like that to walk side by side.

or so you thought.

he dragged his feet to slow his pace, coming parallel to your side. he held his breath for a moment, turning to look at the exposed skin from your dress. you caught his wandering eyes and looked up at him, wandering beneath his emerald depths.

“what?” you asked tenderly, voice hitching in your throat.

“nothing.” he turned his head to face back forward. “just haven’t seen you in a while, that’s all.”

that was an understatement. you haven’t seen lando in almost three years. max had done a stellar job of wanting to keep you separated from his friends, though you weren’t upset about it. you had your own life, and that was perfectly enough for you.

but you were a girl with a heart full of wanderlust, and often dreamed of what you could’ve had. there was a marksmith of delusion prodding the hidden parts of your brain, working tirelessly to pick apart the small interactions you’ve had with lando over the years.

when you turned 18, he brought you to an exclusive club and showered you with gifts, alcohol, and even more. it was a night you wouldn’t forget, feeling lucky enough to manage a dance with him on the dance floor. his hands hovered above your body, the warmth seeping through your skin, rattling your bones. he even got so close to your face that you could feel his breath. smell the alcohol that reeked from him.

you thought you were going to kiss.

and so did he.

but your brother separated the two of you, calling lando over for a group shot. you were left there, stranded on the dance floor, with the phantom touch of a man that you knew you could never have. it pained you to admit such a truth to yourself, but it didn’t loiter. you had a life to get back to, not indulge some silly, fanatical dream that kept you up late at night as a teenager. lando norris was the fantasy, never to become a reality.

though, every time in presence, you’d manage to falter. set those delusions free the second he’d act kindly to you; gentle, tender tenacity that you believed would be special to you. max’s little sister. that’s all you were, though, weren’t you?

“you’ve been well, haven’t you?” you asked him with a hum, holding your bag with both hands in front of you. the leather piece bucked against your abdomen. lando watched, peering to see if he could hold it for you.

“‘course. living my dream, aren’t i?” you’d made it to the end of the hallway. the top of the staircase.

“it’s not a dream.” you said with a softer intonation. he looked back towards you with a raised brow. “it’s reality now, i’d reckon.”

he smiled.

the two of you made it down the steps. you lingered in the grand foyer, beneath the candlelit chandelier. it was still light outside, but the sun was beginning to set. it had created a pink and blue hue over the water’s edge.

but you weren’t looking at the water’s edge.

you were looking at lando. your brother’s best friend. he had his hands in his pockets, facing the open living room, rocking back and forth on his heels. you cut your way to his line of sight staring upward at him. he looked down at you, wondering what you were searching for.

you had considered not doing what you were about to do. you really did!

but your hand was already outstretched, the tips of your fingers grazing over the grown facial hair on his chin. he didn’t jolt from the action and merely stared into your eyes, pupils blown wide from the warmth of your touch.

“i like it,” you commented before taking your hand away, finding yourself into much deep trouble if max had seen the two of you.

“yeah?” lando asked, suddenly much closer to you.

“makes you look older and manly.” you rolled your eyes.

“what? i wasn’t manly before?”

your hand rolled over your mouth to withhold a laugh. “i’ve seen you weep at the sight of fish.”

lando’s face lit up and his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek. “doesn’t make me any less of a man.” he crossed his arms.

“really?”

“just enthusiastic. don’t see a problem with having a bit of character.” you didn’t argue with him further when you saw your brother and other group friends join one another in the living room. they made their way closer to the two of you.

you took a step back from lando. he couldn’t take his eyes off the action, his face falling instinctively. it’s nothing. his expressions mean nothing. they’re not for you.

“c’mon, i’m starvin’.” max called, slapping lando on the back. sure enough, you were walking out the door behind your brother, everyone trailing in an orderly manner.

you heard lando call your name from in front of max. you hummed in response. “you’ll ride with me, yeah?” you blushed. how could you not? max turned his head over his shoulder, his voice saying nothing, but his eyes telling all. he knows how you felt about lando when you were younger.

he knows, he knows, he knows. but surely, surely you’ve gotten over that little crush of yours. and lando, too, hadn’t harbored any feelings towards you either? surely, surely he couldn’t. you were his little sister. and max knew how lando treated girls as of late.

it left a sour taste in his mouth, but he said nothing when you nodded, brushing past him.

lando opened the door for you. his mclaren was a two seater, comfortable, and roared to life when lando turned over the engine. you couldn’t help but laugh feeling the seat vibrate beneath your thighs. it was a feeling of exhilaration that you hadn’t felt in a long time, but a feeling that came perpetually with lando’s presence. being with him made you feel alive, more alive than the years you’d walked this earth.

your excitement had done things to him as well. his eyes were glued to how you reacted, enthralled by your visceral enthusiasm to being in such a tangible sports car. your fingertips grazed across the leather interior of the door handle.

“gonna jump out on me?”

you shifted in the leather seat, crossing your legs over one another. there was a heat building inside of you, deep in your core.

“not if you don’t give me a reason to.”

he chuckled at that. “i’ll try.”

you smiled to yourself, looking down at your fiddling hands. lando stepped on the gas and pulled out of the villa’s extraneously long driveway, leading the pack of friends behind him.

“you look fit.” came his voice, nervous, beneath his breath. your eyes caught his side profile, all rough edges of it. “beautiful, but your brother’d have me by the balls if he heard me say that.”

your breaths were heavy in your chest. “then don’t let him.”

lando’s head whipped to meet your eyes, hand white-knuckling the steering wheel. you weren’t even sure what you were implying with your words, but he hoped that he wasn’t misinterpreting them. god forbid he didn’t understand. you didn’t brush him off like you did as a child, didn’t stumble away bashfully. now, in your grown state, you faced him head on. you challenged him, just as he suspected you would.

“between us, then?”

you nodded, tongue coming to wet your bottom lip. you made a motion of a lock and key against them, throwing the key out the window. he watched, but was drawn back to the road. that was one of the fastest car rides you’ve ever been in with that roaring engine, feeling like you had stepped into the biggest unknown of your very existence.

the restaurant that lando had made reservations for was absolutely beautiful. you couldn’t count the amount of times you’ve been awed by the sites you’ve seen, but you couldn’t help yourself. you were simply one of the luckiest girls with even richer friends.

lando opened the car door for you, sprinting to the other side. you found yourself laughing at the action, finding his urgency cute.

you stepped out of the car and you immediately found your brother, his stance idle before he marched over to you.

“he say anything to you?”

you flushed. between us, then?

“no. what would he say?”

max didn’t elaborate and simply settled for a huff from his nose. lando had been handing off his car to the valet man when he met up with the two of you. your other friends were in tow, eight of you in total, and made it inside the restaurant with ease.

you didn’t even think about what the seating arrangement would be. not until lando pulled out a chair for you, beside him, and you had no other choice but to settle in. not like you were complaining though.

but max was going to. you could see the look on his face when he sat opposite to you, flashing you a pair of warning eyes. but you didn’t know what warranted them– you didn’t even say anything to lando, more or less.

you furrowed your brows at him, feeling far too old for these insolent glances, and picked up the menu. lando sat next to you, mirroring your actions. you placed the napkin on your lap, a polite etiquette you’ve always precluded dinners with.

“ah– look,” you leaned into lando’s space, the heat from his body, the cologne from his shirt, sifting through your nose. it was tempting. “for you.”

your finger pointed to the blackened cod that they had on the menu. lando met you half way, looming over your shoulder at what you were pointing at. as soon as he read it, he scoffed. “fuck off.” you couldn’t help but giggle, attempting to stifle the sound the best you could.

“don’t do that,” lando’s voice came firm, but soft against your ears. he was talking just loud enough for the two of you to be able to hear. you glanced quickly at max, who was lost in conversation with his buddies.

“what?”

“hide your laugh.” you guessed you didn’t realize how often you muffled yourself. your hand lowered to your lap. “you used to do it when you were a teenager, too.” he pointed. you thought for a moment, realizing that he was right. “never understood why. especially since it’s so pretty.”

you froze, staring up at him with weary eyes. he looked confused at your expression. your hand came to slap his bicep. “stop it.” but you were teasing him. he saw right through your tone.

“don’t let him, ‘s what you said, right?”

you swallowed. nodded your head.

his mouth dipped to your ear. his breath hot, just like your cheeks. “he won’t hear a thing then, will he?” lando’s nose brushed against your scalp, and you thought for a moment, dreamed, that he would plant a kiss upon your head. but his lips simply hovered, breaths warming your strands of hair.

but you turned your head to meet his eyes, shaking his contact off. he noticed. tensed. “but he can see, you imbecile.”

that had lando laughing. your face broke with a smile, unable to resist his intoxicating gestures. he simply shrugged, letting you win this one, and his arm came to sling over the back of your chair. his fingertips grazed the strands of your dress, dipping down to your bare shoulders. your posture straightened against the chair, legs crossing over one another beneath the table. he watched you shift, his teeth catching his bottom lip to retain his smile.

the waiter came to take your orders. you ordered your preferred choice and drink, lando following suit. when the table received their drinks, you lifted your glasses for a collective ‘cheers’.

when the main course was finished, you were handed the dessert menus. short a couple, you had to share with the man next to you. you nudged lando’s shoulder with your own and like a dog to a whistle, he was over your shoulder once more, his stubble barely pinching your skin. the thought burst through your head: what would it feel like on your neck? on your thighs, your cunt? you blushed again for what felt like an infinitesimal number, but turned your attention back to the menu.

you pointed at the option that you thought was best. lando hummed, his eyes tracing over the features of your face. you glanced at him. “what?” you asked.

he simply huffed a short laugh and nodded his head at your choice.

it arrived sooner than later and the two of you split the sweet dessert. your brother was still lost in his own conversations, leaving you to your ministrations with lando. whatever they may be, you’d want them all.

when you had your fill and so did he, you couldn’t help but look at him. he turned, and you laughed quietly between the two of you. he raised a brow.

“you’ve got–” you pointed to his lip, but you figured your words were fruitless. you licked at your thumb and raised it to his mouth, cleaning him. his eyes darkened, becoming hooded with the shadows of lust. you even dared to bring your thumb back to your mouth, popping the remnants across your lips with a ‘pop’. lando never thought his dick could be so hard.

“there,” you breathed. “all clean.”

there was a brief silence. one second. two. “you’ve always been trouble, haven’t you?”

your own eyes were hooded. “maybe.” you teased, cleaning your fingers with the napkin. “guess you have to find out?”

lando’s hand gripped tighter on the back of your chair.

“guess so.”

the drive back was tense. tense with your excitement. on the way out, lando and you lingered at the back of the pack. his hand was on your lower back, warm and electric, reminding you that you had stepped into the deep end with him.

you still couldn’t believe what had happened.

lando was speeding down the freeway, weaving his way in and out of cars, a dangerous task that you only felt comfortable with him performing. you’d lose your mind if anyone else was the driver, but he was the professional here, wasn’t he?

you were even so bold to roll the window down and stick your hand out, feeling the harsh slipstreams beneath your nailbeds. you relaxed in the seat, head lolling against the cushion, hair flying into the wind. lando turned his head to look at you, his elbow leaning on the interior beneath the windowsill, and almost swerved into oncoming traffic. you were a picturesque beauty, lounging freely in his passenger seat, legs crossed, free.

you were at peace for the time being, and it was the only way he’d wish to see you. but he could think of other things.

he pulled into the house with ease. it was well lit amongst the long, windy driveway, and he made sure to let you out first. you two were the last to arrive at the house this time, taking your sweet time. you were in no rush to race back to your room, and neither was he.

it was well past 10pm. when you reached the foyer, max was waiting for you.

“bright and early tomorrow?” he asked.

“bright and early.” you confirmed. he pulled you in for a swift hug, rustling the top of your head with that familial brother love that you adored him for.

he patted lando on the back briefly, before narrowing his eyes at him. you didn’t understand what was happening between the two of them, bro code, but lando seemed to understand well enough. max and his buddies traipsed up the steps, and you felt at ease when you heard their doors shut.

it was just you and lando, now, idling in the foyer.

you said nothing but began to walk, trailing forward through the grandeur villa. you were ample with your pace and heard him moving behind you. with a push of your hand, you opened the door to the grand balcony, leaving it ajar for lando to sneak out from.

he did.

there was a patio set there, waiting, and you let your handbag drop onto the coffee table. you sauntered over to the cobblestone walls, the balustrade meeting post to post for about thirty feet. you leaned against the stone. it was cold against your bare back.

lando seated himself in one of the chairs, his legs spreading wide. he watched you lean forward, then spin to face him. your back was illuminated by the halo of the moonlight, drenching you in a pale visage of beauty.

“you wanna know something?” you asked. lando perked up, humming with curiosity. he was too busy admiring your figure, having to pull himself back from such tumultuous thoughts. “i had a crush on you when i was a kid.”

that stifled a laugh from the british driver. “you did not.”

you shook your head. “sure did.” you didn’t know why you were telling him this all of a sudden, but it was weighing heavy on your mind. “max was pissed. knew i only came around when he told me you’d be there.”

the pieces began melding together in lando’s mind. he had been such an idiot boy that he couldn’t see what a prized beauty you were. there was a trace of second hand guilt. a pattern of ‘what-ifs’ trifling through his mind.

“‘was just a stupid girl. tried so hard for you to notice me.” your hands covered your face for a brief moment.

“you always wore skirts,” he recalled, looking at his hands in his lap. he looked up at you, smirk building. “that why?”

you were shameless when you nodded your head.

“so embarrassing, i know–”

“what about now?” he cut you off, clearly wanting to ask this question the moment it left your lips.

“what do you mean?” your mouth went dry, your hands clasping at the balustrade as if you were going to faint. your heart pounded in your chest.

“what do you feel for me now?”

you couldn’t meet his eye. you looked anywhere else but him, in fact, and opted to over your shoulder to admire the view of the ocean beneath the starlight. the ocean wouldn’t judge you. it would wash away your problems, in fact, and not stare you down.

there was a deep intake of breath that had your head settling from its dizzy state. you looked back to lando and he sat there, cocky, upright. but there was a genteel nature about him that didn’t have you as afraid as you thought you’d be.

he raised his arm, outstretching his hand for you.

you swallowed, pushing yourself off from the balustrade. you sauntered towards him, earnest in your steps, before letting your palm rest on his.

he pulled you close, fingers wrapping against your wrist. he was warm to the touch and he could feel your erratic heartbeat in your veins.

lando’s legs spread for you to settle between. you stood above him, looking down at his brunette curls, his stubble, his cheekbones. his own hands were experimental against the planes of your body, touching sweetly against your hips.

“you didn’t answer me.” he repeated.

you crossed your arms over your chest.

“some dreams just remain dreams.”

he waited a beat. you felt his chest rise and fall.

“do you want to dream forever?”

no. no. you didn’t. you wanted your fantasies to become reality. being with him. being loved by him has always been what you wanted.

you lowered yourself on his lap, straddling his waist. you felt his cock thrum beneath the guard of his pants. did he want you the same?

his forehead collided with yours. his nose brushing against your bridge. you shook your head, closing your eyes.

“wake me up,” you mewled quietly, voice deep within your throat. it was a desperate plea, one that you thought he may not understand until he caught the glint in your eye. the wanting. the years of pining from a distance. how he was so wrapped up in his boyhood that he couldn’t appreciate a woman at his side. “please.”

he didn’t wait any longer to meet your lips with his own.

you were cautious with your touches. your hands were on his chest, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. but your kiss was deep by his own volition, gripping your chin with his forefinger and thumb, earning a groveling sound in your throat.

his other hand was stroking your back, pushing you against him until your breasts were firmly against his chest. you gasped at the firm contact, him using it as an excuse to slip his tongue into your mouth. he explored every corner with an expertise you didn’t know was possible. no place went untouched by his saliva, marking a cavern of his own, and perhaps awakening a fantasy that had been dormant for years.

he lied when he said he didn’t notice you.

he lied.

lando would always await your appearance when he went over to max’s house. he’d hear you skip down the steps in whatever mary-jane heel you wore for that day. max would groan when your head popped through the archway, waving at his friends, but your lashes fluttered when you settled on lando.

‘course he fucking noticed.

he thought of you a sweet girl, caring for her brother, with an exquisite taste in fashion. he’d remember the skirts you wore– black ones, pleated ones, plaid ones– they were all committed to the vaults of his memory. he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

and he still did. while you were perched atop of his lap, huffing in nervous breaths, your hands anxiously skirting across the plane of his dress shirt. you shook atop of him as your lips moved coincided with one another. two bodies, melding together beneath the moonlight.

your tongue swirled against his own, hips bucking against the bulge in his pants. your cunt tightened aimlessly, drenching his pants below. he could feel the patten of fabric become lathered in your slick, and it brought him back to earth.

“we can’t.” he breathed against your lips. his chest was beating up and down, unable to calm himself. though he attempted rejecting you, his hand tightened around the fabric of your dress.

your nose brushed against his as you chuckled. “a bit late, isn’t it?” your teeth bit at your swollen, bottom lip. you could see his eyes flash downward at your action, his own tongue wetting his own.

“your brother,” he began to shake his head, still clutching around the fabric of your dress.

“he doesn’t…” you began to say, kissing the sides of his stubble. you were even so bold to take his free hand, guide it to your inner thighs, and let his fingertips caress the wet fabric covering your cunt. it was swollen, desperate for his touch. you’d been desperate for his touch. desperate for as long as you could remember. “have to know.”

lando’s fingers curled upward to apply pressure right on your clit. he didn’t even have to search for it, and you shifted your hips, bucking them across his palm. “fuck, baby…” he groaned into your cheek, followed by a crass chuckle. “you always get this wet?”

your head buried itself into the junction between his neck and shoulder, whining with embarrassment. “jus’ for you…” the words came quietly, but they rang loud in lando’s ears. he could feel the vibrations from your throat, your aching cunt. you were laid atop of him, dripping down your thighs.

“yeah?” he breathed, finding his heart beating rapidly beneath the weight of your body. his fingers began a pattern of motions across your clothed clit—back and forth— and you mewled into his shirt. there was a patch of drool beneath your lips. “look at you, then, made a mess all over me…”

your lips sucked on the skin of his neck, biting at his chest. attempting to shift closer to him, if it was possible, had your cunt aligned over his clothed cock.

“‘n i’ve barely touched you.”

lando wasn’t even sure he could bring himself to. this was his best friend’s little sister. the amount of lines he’s crossed. the friendship he’s had for years suddenly feeling vulnerable, out the door. but he can’t say he hasn’t thought about a moment like this. fantasized about it once or twice.

“touch me,” you pleaded, tilting your head to look at him. your eyes were wide, glossy with your pleasure, whilst his darkened at your contact. “more, i need…” your hips grinded against his palm. “more.”

“fuck,” he cursed beneath his breath. fuck his self control. fuck whatever this was going to do to his friendship. you are real, pining for him in his lap, begging you for his touch. anything from him, really, you would take. this moment felt like it was going to flutter away any moment, and you’d be waking up from a sick, yearning dream.

the hand upon your back steadied you against his body, whilst the fingers of his other moved the fabric of your panties aside. here, with his sensitive fingers, he could feel the heat from your cunt. it washed over him like a wave, retracting, tightening when he flexed his middle finger. you were utterly drenched for him, the cool breeze of the night raising goosebumps along your skin.

you shivered above him, watching how his hand worked beneath your dress. his hand against your back curled around the base of your neck, angling your eyes back up to his own. “eyes on me.” you listened, melted at his soft, demanding tone, and nodded your head. you shimmied frantically across the plane of his hand, but he tsked. “be patient.”

you seemed to understand well enough. he would give you what you wanted, in time. you would be patient, holding back the whimpers deep within your throat. you were just about to implode on yourself when he finally inserted his middle finger into your folds, taunting you dangerously. you gasped, unable to keep yourself still as your back arched. your head fell back into his hand, lando’s thumb swirling around your bare neck.

the straps from your dress fell loose with the motion and you could feel the breeze harden your already taut nipples. his eyes clinged downward at the sight before him, head bending forward to kiss your exposed chest. one of your hands came to clench around his wrist, the other to his neck, holding him fiercely to your body.

your fingers were thrusted deep into the base of his neck, the fade of his hair. you tugged when his finger curled deliciously inside of you, his thumb– acting so expertly– applied gentile pressure to your clit, toiling with your impetuous lust. you felt exposed to him, putty in his hands, weightless against his body.

the british driver’s lips were relentless on your skin. your chest was claimed by his tongue, swirling around the top of your breasts, edging you further to a spectacular orgasm. he sucked tight against your skin, but your head raised to meet your lips to his ears.

“no marks,” you requested, but you heard him growl against your chest. his hands flexed– his wrist clutched with your palm, his hand on the back of your neck– the contact with your neck had you breathless, clenching around his singular finger, and he took blatant notice.

“a secret, yeah?” he confirmed, holding back his groveling tone. the words were bitter when they hit your ears. there was a layered amount of surplus emotions that guarded his heart, held him at arm's length, and he knew it would tear him apart. but now, he focused on you atop of him, and getting you to come.

“mhmm…” you had to clamp your mouth shut from bursting with a wanton moan. it was too much– the way that he swirled his thumb, how his finger was just the perfect length to bottom out inside of you. your hips moved relentlessly, despite his grip around your neck, and you pushed down on his wrist when it started to become too much for you.

but lando had other plans. he shook his head, let out a tsk between his lips, and let his ring finger slip into you with ease. you let out another moan, deeper than the rest, but he responded with a tug on your hair.

with his lips still against your breasts, his motions froze. “quiet.” you hummed a disapproving sound. “want me to stop?”

you shook your head. “no– no!”

you could feel his teeth against your breasts, a cocky smile no doubt with how flustered you became at the thought of him stopping.

“gotta be quiet, love–” and then his lips were back on you, sucking amply at your skin. his head lowered until he captured a nipple between his teeth, letting the ridges toy with your sensitive buds. your head lowered to the top of his as you breathed him in– his shampoo, his cologne– and it didn’t help with containing yourself.

his pace against your cunt quickened. dual fingers sliding in and out of you with ease, thumb riding aggressively on your clit. you could feel the coil inside of you wringing with heat.

lando’s lips found your other nipple, treating it with the same voraciousness that the other received. it was beginning to become too much for you. no man had ever had you this way– putty, liquid, melting– beneath his touch. you feared that you’d never be able to have an orgasm again.

you became antsy in his hands. your grip on his wrist was shaking, your thighs desperately clenching around his waist. he took it as a sign that you were close, and the words fell easily from his lips.

“gonna cum for me?” his chin rested on your chest, angling to look up at your sweating, flushed expression. your eyes fluttered shut as you nodded. his grip around your throat tightened against the columns. you’d never trusted a man so much to not hurt you.

“come on, sweet girl, ‘ve got you.” he promised to you, “bet you’re so pretty when you cum.”

you felt the skin of your lip break into a light gash beneath the weight of your teeth. you’d been so focused on keeping quiet, that you went ahead at your own expense. lando saw the way your eyes opened, and lurched to meet your lips with his own.

the iron upon his tongue didn’t frighten him. perhaps it turned him on in some manner. the lengths that you were willing to go to keep your sweet lips tightened. but as his own tongue swirled around the stinging cut of your lip, you moaned into him. he absorbed the sound, locking it into the expanse of his memories. you had such a sweet voice. he’d never hear something like it again.

“come on, baby,” he urged you once more, speaking into your mouth. his breath was hot, spinning a knot of thread with your own. you felt him laugh at your oncoming orgasm, taking joy from eliciting such pleasure from you. “let me see how pretty you are.”

it didn’t take much longer for your orgasm to reach you. you went taut, shaking in his hands, eyes rolling into your head. you swore you saw stars, and that was just from his fingers alone. it had you wondering what his cock felt like.

your head fell limp against his shoulder, breathing heavily, clutching the fabric of his shirt. you didn’t want to let him go. his fingers laid idle inside of your tightened walls, not wanting to release the feeling either. not with his hand drenched, his pants soaked, and his forehead dripping with his own sweat. his cock had been painfully hard, a pool of his precum seeping through his pants, combining with your own. it was a beautiful, disastrous mess that he’d initiated between you two, but he felt no regret.

you sniffled against his shoulder, breezing with the cold air, and let your arms wrap around his neck. you hid your face against his body, attempting to bury your embarrassment within him. you had just come on the balcony atop lando’s lap. what fucking world were you living in? you’ve had feelings for him for what felt like a century, and now a dream that you didn’t even know was possible of coming true, came at the palm of his hand.

lando couldn’t believe it either. you were tucked against his body like a hand to a glove, a perfect fit, breathing heavily, shaking, against his palms. your cunt roared with a beating heat, swimming with the orgasm he had given you. proud wasn’t a word that could surmount to this feeling.

and he said nothing when he fixed the straps of your dress, gauging a more presentable you. he tucked your hair behind your ears, fingertips loitering on the expanse of your cheek. you smiled into him, coming to raise your head to meet his eyes.

his eyes fell to your blistering lip. the swollen buds that he sucked the blood out of. his forehead met yours, and neither of you said anything; just a soft breath and heartbeat between the two of you.

within seconds he took his hand from your cunt, washed his fingers against his tongue, and let it fall to your bare back. you were stunned at the motion, but drool pooled in your mouth. you gawked, openly, just how hot the action was alone.

lando stood with you in his arms. one hand on the back of your neck, the other cupping your thigh. your legs, whilst trembling, tightened around his waist for support as he took you through the quiet villa. the only lights were the candles that were still burning, but you didn’t see them, your head hiding in the crevice of his neck. he hummed quietly, a rhythm that had your eyes beginning to lull with sleep.

you heard him open a door quietly and shuffle around the mess on the floor. your room, no doubt. you’d left a pile of clothes as a welcome for yourself when you were picking out your attire for the evening. it didn’t help him, either, by being surrounded by your scent. your perfume, you, it swirled around him, taunting him. dared him to fuck his best friend’s little sister.

lando bent down to lay you into your bed. you fell against your will, hands still upright for him to fall in. but he just couldn’t let himself.

he did, however, let his fingers trail across your bare thighs, your knees, your calves, ankles, until he was met with your heels. his hand lingered on the back of your ankle, angling one of your feet upright to slip a shoe off. his fingers moved to the other, placing the expensive pair on the ground. you stretched your hands above your head, falling deep within the pillowy, feathery embrace.

you stared up at him. your hair messy, dress disheveled, eyes heavy with exhaustion. and he looked down at you, moving forward to let his fingers trail up your sternum, the perks of your breasts. the moment was so quiet. only your breaths and his own could be heard– and maybe the pounding of your heart.

he looked beautiful looming above you, hovering with a protective, apologetic look. apologetic? what did he have to apologize for? except for a mind-blowing orgasm, that is.

his hand froze against the place of your heart. palm flattening, he could feel just how fast your heart was racing. you grabbed his wrist, thumb sliding up and down against his veins. he swallowed.

“don’t know if we should do this again.” he spoke quietly.

your heart broke. you sat up straight in your bed, confusion written all across your features. you thought that this was something between the two of you. that he wanted you. and now what was happening? did you do something wrong?

“why?” you asked, feeling tears well in your eyes. you couldn’t help it. the girl inside of you had come to the forefront, her dreams of being with lando being squashed beneath the weight of his words.

he sighed deep, unable to meet your eyes. he was about to say something before you interrupted him.

“you don’t want me?”

his head snapped in your direction, almost breaking clean off his spine with just how fast he went. he shook his head, hand coming to cup your cheek, but you shook his affections away. your hand dropped from his wrist, wanting to feel nothing of his heart.

he spoke your name. twice. three times. you looked back toward him, tears hot in your eyes. “hey.” you focused on his voice. “you know that’s not true.”

your brows furrowed. “do i?”

his expression dropped.

he fell to his knees before the side of the bed. an action no man has ever done for you. you gaped visibly, watching as both his hands came to rest upon your knees. he leaned into you. stubble tickling your thighs.

your name was sweet on his tongue.

“what would your brother say–?”

“fuck what he thinks.” you leaned down.

lando’s head dropped between your thighs, taking a deep inhale of your skin. you shivered, letting your hand rest on the back of his neck.

“we need t’give it time.” he said upon raising his head. he looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes. the moonlight shimmered through your windows, casting a vague gracefulness of illumination across his tanned skin.

“how much?”

lando wasn’t sure. his silence was an answer enough. you sighed, letting your body fall against the bed once more. he lifted himself to sit beside you, placing both hands at your hips to cage you in.

“hey,” he said to gauge your attention back to him. “we’ll figure it out, won’t we?”

you wanted to believe him. but you weren’t sure that you could. lando leaned down to kiss your sternum against the fabric of your dress.

“you still want me?” you asked, voice cracking with your emotions.

“i’ve wanted you,” he said against your stomach, “since the day you came down in that white skirt.”

you gasped, head tilting to look at him. that was one of the first times you met him– third, maybe– you remembered which one he was talking about. it was a skirt with little white bows, embellished with threads of ribbon and lace.

“the one with the bows?”

“that fuckin’ skirt…” he scoffed with a laugh. you were still floored, but managed to smile. you couldn’t believe his confession, finding it unbelievable. unbelievable that maybe, maybe you had a chance with him. the girl inside of you was squealing, but the woman didn’t quiver beneath him.

there was a momentary silence between the two of you. but you shifted, moving to stand. lando watched you from his perch on your bed, hair ruffled and eyes red from his own wrought of emotions. you didn’t expect this from him. this sensibility.

you began to strip with your back turned to him. he watched. silently.

you stripped of your panties and threw them over your shoulder. lando caught them, still gawking at you. “keep them.” you spoke. “you ruined them.”

that had him laughing. but he kept them, staring down at the lace material. you threw on a large shirt from your suitcase that reached your mid thigh. you finally spun around to meet his eye, but he didn’t dare move.

“what?” you asked, his staring becoming more intense.

he swallowed. shook his head.

“you better go.” you spoke for him as you approached your bed, narrowly dodging him when you threw yourself down. his eyes raked over you, speechless. “lando.” you reaffirmed, bringing him out of his haze. he let out a sigh and stood, hand coming to brace the back of his neck.

he lingered before opening your door, glancing at the dress on the ground. and then he was gone, shutting your door behind him, before falling to his own bed. you were lucky to find sleep that night, and it came easy with your exhaustion. but anxiety thrummed through your mind, bustling with a pint of rejection. it was so sweet from his tongue, but it hurt all the same.

lando laid in his bed before he showered. changed. laid in his bed with the thought of you. how did this happen? how could he forfeit a lifelong friendship? it was simple, really. you were the most beautiful woman he’s ever met, and he couldn’t ever let you go. he’s always watched you from a distance. liking your posts, viewing your instagram stories. he was obsessed with you in more ways than one, but that was a secret for him and him alone.

yet, he couldn’t get max out of his mind. how he would react to him? to you? fuck, the thoughts were brewing a storm inside of his head. the damage had already been done, his heart already thrumming with the essence of you in its wake. you spread through the blood in his veins, latching onto his vitality like a parasite. though he welcomed the thought, the wonder of you overtaking his life.

that was a thought that he could fall asleep to. and he did, snoring with a good guzzle that had you tossing and turning.

the morning came and went. you were up early, as you promised max, but took time planning your wardrobe. you wore a bathing suit beneath your choice of clothing, but what was essential was the short, white, skirt that rode mid-rise on your waist.

the shirt you wore was thin, sheer, a light beige. it had straps that came down to tie a bow between your breasts, and cropped enough to leave heaven to the imagination. for one man in particular, that was your goal.

‘i don’t know if we should do this again.’

fuck that.

you skipped down the steps and were met with max awake bright and early. he had been cooking breakfast, a favorite of yours, and was just about finishing up before he glanced towards you.

“morning!” came his preppy voice. he was wearing a thin white shirt and swim trunks, ready to take on the day to swim.

“good morning.” you sat down at the lush kitchen island, max sliding a plate of food in front of you. you dug in immediately.

“woah,” max commented, sitting down beside you with a cup of tea. “relax. thought we were going swimming?”

you coughed. “we are.” you continued to finish your food with haste. “just hungry.”

you heard more steps come down the stairs. but you didn’t turn your head until max did, his eyes brightening as his close friend was approaching.

“mate,” max said, eyeing up lando. “you look like shit. did ‘ya sleep last night?”

lando hummed with his tired voice, already prepared to go swimming as well. he wore a black shirt with papaya swim trunks. you ogled at him before he looked at you, turning away quickly once he skirted his eyes towards your direction.

“slept great.”

you scoffed.

max and lando turned towards you. the fork in your hands dropped and your eyes widened. a blush creeped onto your cheeks.

“you snore,” you commented, still refusing to look at him. “you know that?”

max turned towards lando. “your rooms are next to each other?” the words were poignant, aimed as a remark to the british driver. he simply shrugged his shoulders in response, not finding any reason to engage.

you stood with your plate in hand, making headway for the sink. from behind, you could feel a pair of eyes heating the plane of your back. you weren’t stupid. and neither was he, knowing exactly what you had done this morning.

the skirt you wore was a reminiscence of his confession the previous night. it brought back the childlike memories of grade school. a time when life was simpler, and you were just a girl, and he was just a boy. but he knew you weren’t that girl anymore. a woman grown, you were elegant. he didn’t understand how you were related to max, a scruffy rascal, but he was happier for that.

when you turned on the water for the sink, lando approached you. max had been tending to his phone, scrolling through social media, so he hadn’t been paying attention. lando’s shoulder brushed against your own when you were scrubbing, desperate to say something.

“you–”

“max,” you interrupted lando, turning off the water and turning towards your brother. lando took a side step away from you, giving you space when max looked up from his phone. you received a side eye from the british driver, his lip curling with pettiness. he saw what you were doing now. was this your form of punishment?

max responded with a ‘hm?’ “you want me to cook tonight?” you offered, and max glanced at lando, who never stopped looking at you. you saw max’s expression tense.

“why not. could save us some money, won’t it?” he said, waiting for lando to add on. “right, lando?”

lando spun around, releasing his tight grip on the counter. he took a sharp breath in, nodding his head in agreement. you watched as a blush creeped onto his face. you bit on the inside of your cheek, but weren’t expecting lando to retaliate.

he spoke your name, which had your head lifting. “what happened to your lip?”

you froze. eyes widening. your own lip twitched with a remedy of a snarl, and he bit back, his nose curling with distaste.

max approached you two, observing your scabbed lip from the night before. “shit. he’s right. what happened?”

you reached back to clench the marble counter beneath your fingers. “uh–” lando held back his devious smile. “bit it in my sleep, ‘spose.”

max simply shrugged his shoulders, and headed for the backyard where the pool was. when the door shut, you let out a sigh. lando stepped in front of you, caging you in with his arms. his head dipped to your shoulder, his curls brushing against your cheek.

“get off me,” you commented with grit, biting your words. lando shook his head, not moving.

“don’t play this with me,” he said, lifting his head with a deep inhale. you raised a brow at him, having absolutely no idea what he meant.

“said we weren’t going to do this again, didn’t you?” you made him sit with his words. make him roll in the fucking mud. “we’re not. and if we were–” you shoved his chest with both your hands, which had him lurching backward. he didn’t go far. “i’d fucking win.”

he invaded your space again, leaning his lips towards yours. you felt his breath again, his scent creeping into your nose. it was like he never left.

“y’sure ‘bout that?” he said with a light tone, teasing you with the vibrato of his words. you swallowed a lump in your throat.

but you stood your ground. “positive.”

lando lingered for a second longer, leaning closer to your lips, and you thought he was going to kiss you out in the open kitchen. “whatever you say.” were the only words he said before he leapt away from you suddenly, leaving your exposed body cold.

he followed you out to the pool, never leaving enough space between you two. but you had other plans–sticking by max’s side would surely drive him insane.

so you sat beside your brother all day. in the pool chair next to him. tanning, reading a book, scrolling on your phone– it didn’t matter. it wasn’t long before the rest of your brother’s friends joined everyone by the pool.

most of them were in the pool by the afternoon. you had made your way to the kitchen, shedding of your skirt and top. left in your swimwear, you wanted a snack.

in the bowls of fruit you found, you pulled some mango, strawberries, and bananas. you cut them with a knife from the drawer, and put them in a bowl. there was more than enough fruit for everyone, but you took some of your favorites in the meantime.

the sun was hot that day, and you had forgotten your sunglasses. sunscreen on your head would cause greasy hair, and you didn’t want that. so you searched briefly in the kitchen for any sort of hat that someone left, and you found one.

it was a papaya hat. with mclaren’s logo, and a number 4 on it. you smirked, bringing the hat atop your head.

it fit nicely and you grabbed the bowl of fruit. you made your way back outside to the patio and your brother noticed you immediately. he called your name, and you sauntered over.

lando and his mates had been in the pool playing with a frisbee, but as soon as max had said your name, he was looking over his shoulder. he went speechless.

with his hat atop your head and your exposed body, he could help but drool at the sight of you. a droplet trailed down his chin, but he dunked the lower half of his mouth into the pool before anyone saw.

“for us?” max asked towards the bowl of fruit. you popped a slice of mango into your mouth, biting tenderly into the piece before nodding your head. lando swallowed tightly, practically shaking beneath the surface of the water.

you placed the bowl on the wooden table and stood back as you were met with the onslaught of a crowd of wet dudes. you backed up towards the stairs of the pool, ready to hop in yourself. you thought yourself a genius– having the entire pool to yourself while they ate. but before you stepped in, your elbow was caught in a warm palm.

lando faced you with his bare chest dripping with chlorine, hair ruffled and damp. droplets of water slithered down his cheeks, which you felt tempted to rub away with your thumb, but you retained from stretching out your hands.

he simply stared at you. and you stared at him.

then he flicked the end of the cap with his pointer finger and smirked, raising his brows with a teasing fashion. he had the nerve to glance at your chin, narrowing his eyes. you didn’t have time to react before his own thumb came to wipe away a droplet of mango juice from your chin.

the action was fast, unnoticed by anyone around you. you blushed instantly, freezing in place. lando popped his thumb into his mouth, tongue visibly swirling around the fingertip. he made a humming sound, approving of the taste.

“tastes sweet.” he muttered to you. he raised his eyes, hooded beneath the glare of the sunlight. “not my favorite, though.”

holy shit

you thought you were going to pass out.

with your eyes flared wide, you spun away from him, throwing the hat to the side, and dove straight into the pool.

you needed to cool off. desperately. and your time in the pool did. when you finally climbed out, max was lounging in the pool chair beneath an umbrella. you joined him in your seat, drying yourself off with your towel. lando was watching the entire time, sitting opposite to max.

when you finally laid down with the towel of your bare legs, max scoffed at his phone. clearly, he was trying to get your attention.

“what?” you said, the hat you had thrown off was now back in your lap.

“look,” max handed you his phone, and you immediately rolled your eyes. it was a picture on instagram of your ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend. his new girlfriend that he cheated on you with. he was a fucking asshole, and max knew that from the very beginning.

“ugh,” you groaned, handing his phone back to him. max took it and was about to keep scrolling.

“what?” lando asked, curious now to see what the two of you were grumbling about. max handed him his phone, but he was still confused who he was looking at.

“her ex,” max commented with a rumble. lando’s eyes shot up at you, watching your expression shift. lando was now investigating thoroughly, scrolling through this guys posts. he still had some of you up, and it only angered him. it angered him to an unfair degree, feeling the pinnacle of jealousy, although entirely unwarranted.

“i brought him to a race once,” you pointed out, unable to look at either of them. instead, you settled on the water in the pool. “barcelona, last year.” your arms crossed over your chest.

lando raised a brow. “he was that leach for leclerc, wasn’t he?” you were surprised that he remembered, but nodded your head. it wasn’t a good memory. he had abandoned you the minute you arrived at the race in search of the ferrari driver, and had to manage yourself alone in the crowds. it was miserable, but at least you got to see a good show.

“yeah,” you commented with a huff. “fucking asshole.”

“asshole.” max mirrored you.

“why did it end, then?” lando was pushing the boundaries, but max didn’t seem to notice or mind.

though you did.

you didn’t want to relive the thought. the embarrassment. the entire fucking heartbreak that you pathetically went through.

“because i was stupid.” is all you said before you stood with your towel, making your way inside without another word.

max turned to face lando and smacked him on the shoulder. “the fuck did you ask for?” came his harsh words. lando was stunned, not intending to chase you away.

“shit, sorry i–” lando was quick to rise to his feet, though, not even glancing back at max before he chased after you. “i’ll fix it,” he promised before disappearing inside, and max simply shrugged, wondering just how lando could work his wonders. though he doubted he truly could.

lando called your name from deep inside the villa but you were already half way up the steps. you froze when you heard his voice, stifling back any sounds from your chest. he caught up to you, standing a step beneath you.

“i’m sorry–” he said, “i was just—”

“just what, lando?” you grumbled, truly not wanting to hear his words. “you wanna know just how embarrassed i was? huh? when i found he was fucking one of my best friends?”

lando stood there, shocked, coming to hold out his arms for you to fall into. but you didn’t. “i was such a fucking idiot. it was right in front of me but i didn’t believe it. how smart of me, right?!” your voice raised when lando cornered you at the top of the stairs, your back against the wall.

you couldn’t help but spew emotional nonsense. “oh woe is me, truly, you’d probably end up doing the same–”

lando caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, his other hand leaning against the wall. “what did you say?”

you gulped, not meaning for the words to slip off your tongue. shit. he looked pissed. pissed that you would think so lowly of him.

“i–” you gulped. “i didn’t mean–”

his hand tightened around your chin. “really? that what you think of me?” no, no, no! you didn’t. you didn’t. you shook your head in his hold, your eyes largening with your emotions.

“if you were my girl,” lando whispered to you, not breaking eye contact with you once. “you’d know it.”

but you dared to disagree.

“what am i then?” you challenged, your voice raising in the echoing halls. “what was i yesterday, a whore?”

he bared his teeth at you, displeased with what you called yourself. his hand from your chin latched onto the side columns of your throat and your mouth parted with a delectable pleasure.

“you needed me, yeah?” he was sure to comment. but you didn’t budge.

“get your hands off me.” you bit out.

“you didn’t seem to mind yesterday.”

“clearly you didn’t do a good job for a second run,” the words pinched his ego, though the hand against the wall came to slide around your waist.

“weren’t you begging for me? or did i make that up?” you seethed at his cocky tone.

“think you had too much to drink. i’d never beg.” it was a straight lie that came from your lips. he knew it. you knew it. but you pretended to keep your strength.

“‘touch me, please,’” he mocked in your tone.

“must’ve dreamed it. thinking ‘bout me, lan?” the nickname was new for him on your tongue and he bristled, along with the blood soaring to his cock.

“‘more, need–” you slapped your hand over his mouth.

“fuck you.” you hissed. his mouth curved to a smile before he let his grip on you go.

“we’ll see if you’re lucky tonight.”

you brushed past him with a scoff and he stood there idly, watching your hips sway side to side. he chuckled at your retreat and you flipped him off before entering your room and slamming the door. you were done with these fucking games, his toying words. he had no right to approach you after finding out about your ex.

you immediately turned on the shower in your room and stripped of your bathing attire. it was when you were searching aimlessly through your drawer of panties, you remembered that you were missing a pair.

a smirk grew on your face, and you couldn’t help but feel that you held the power.

a few hours had passed after your interaction with lando, and he couldn’t help but feel anxious. you were missing from the entirety of the activities around the pool, and he even dared knock on your door, but he resisted. though it tore him apart, thinking about your writhing anger.

but you, you had other plans. you’d showered off from the pool, taken care of your skin, and taken a nap before you were to get up and make dinner.

you had come up with the idea for dinner.

fish. as everyone enjoyed.

you smirked to yourself as you made your way down the steps. it was quiet, and you heard no churning of others about the halls. it was nice to revere yourself in the solitude of the late afternoon, hoping that you would have the entirety of the downstairs floor yourself.

you got to work with your scheme and pulled out the fish from the fridge. whatever you were making, you were sure it would be delicious.

and when the meal was just about done, you heard a strangulated sound of ample footsteps down the staircase. you were just about done setting the dinner table when max soared through the kitchen, aiming right for the pans and pots of ingredients you sniffed.

“woo!” he cheered, clearly delighted with your cooking. the other boys at his side were quick to mimic him, agreeing with his statement. your hands clamped over your heart, showing how happy you were that they were thrilled.

“well,” you urged. “go sit! i’ll bring it over.”

they didn’t hesitate. beginning to take spoonfuls of rice, vegetables, and the fried fish you whipped up, they were eager to get a headstart. your thoughts wondered where the british driver was, but your thoughts were answered when you heard the last pair of footsteps through the grand foyer.

you just finished placing the bowls of food in front of the eager boys. they weren’t polite in waiting for everyone to sit down, but you didn’t mind.

it was an afterthought for what his meal would be. of course you knew he despised fish. you listened to everything he said when you were younger, years ago, and never forgot.

you leaned against the kitchen aisle, facing him, and he immediately recoiled at the smell. his nose turned upright, curling upward with his lip, and you saw the sparkle of his canines.

lando approached you, the stove, and took a glance at what the helpings were. he turned his head over his shoulder, giving you a knowing look, which you returned with a small shrug and a smirk.

“witch.” he uttered, hands clamping around the edges of the countertops, unsure what he was going to fish through the cabinets for.

“don’t worry.” you said, lando turning to raise his brows. you slid him a bowl filled with greens, vegetables, and a little bit of rice. “plenty for you, don’t you think?”

you cocked your head toward the empty seat, but he instead took the one right next to you. the bowl in your hands was pungent with sprouts, and even you recoiled. you placed it down in front of him, letting your hand linger on his back. “i’m no dietician,” you said quietly. “but i tried to substitute as much as i could.”

“thank you,” he said through clenched teeth, fucker.

you were quaint with your serving, taking enough for your fill, and sat down swiftly. conversation grew between all of the men, your brother included, and you ate in silence. you had done more thinking about your situation with your ex, and recoiled with a sickening feeling in your stomach. lando watched from the corner of his eye, noticing how little you touched your fork with your lips and spun your spoon amongst the rice.

he knew he said tribulating words. taunted you. teased you. but he did not mean for it to stretch as far as it had. you were twiddling with the accessories on your wrists, barely saying a word the entire meal, and he felt that it was his fault. you’d only gone as far enough to tease him with a full fish basking over an open flame on the stove.

it wasn’t shameful when he was devouring the meal you had cooked. despite the repugnant smell of fish lingering in the air, your food was…divine. he wasn’t all that surprised, but it was a nice treat to end one of the first full days.

but the most courageous ideas filled his head. he kept looking at you, staring, out of the corner of his eye. you were entirely blue with your melancholy, and he resented the soured expression upon your beautiful face. he took it as his own responsibility to relieve you of your worries. your anxieties. insecurities. as it was his fault that they emerged.

it didn’t take long before beneath the table, lando’s hand wandered. he began with a soft graze of your knee which had you sitting up straight, white skirt you dressed in before remaking its appearance around your hips.

you turned your head to face him, eyes flaring with wonder of just what the fuck he was doing. but his expression stayed nonchalant, undeterred from his conversation with your brother. you decided that you should play the same game, sliding into the roll of uncaring of his soft touches.

though it was much easier said than done.

his fingers were daunting. restless. he took a break to sip his water with his opposite hand, divulging into deeper conversation as his hand trailed higher. it was then that he spread his palm wide over the span of your thigh, bare, pinching at the skin. you leaned over the table, leaning your head into your palms that were supported by your elbows upon the table.

you sighed, your other leg jumping up and down. you attempted to listen to whatever they were talking about– football, instagram, the races– but you couldn’t tune in for long. not when he tugged the fabric of your skirt to the side, and let his pinky dance across your folds. fuck.

attempting to muffle your struggle, you brought your glass to your lips, sipping in promptitude. you leaned back, tucking your chair as far as you could against the table. it finally caught lando’s attention, briefly, when he gave you a once over with a cheeky smile. max caught the action, raising a brow at you, but you simply swallowed down your drink and crossed your hands over your lap.

your lap, that so happened to house lando’s hand between your thighs. your cunt was clothed by your panties, but you could still feel the pressure of his finger lodging against your slit.

you wrapped your hand around his wrist, gripping tight with the desire for him to stop, but he would do no such thing. he went as far as using his ring finger to stroke the cotton of your underwear, grazing over your clit as if it were nothing. he circled around your tender bundle of nerves, refusing to leave it alone.

your second hand came to wrap around his wrist, higher up on his forearm, pleading indefinitely to halt his movements. your thighs clenched impossibly tight around his hand, suffocating him, but it didn’t stop him. it only had him steadfast in his pursuit– to get you to come at this dinner table.

with your force against his forearm, you were sure to leave bruises of your fingertips in your wake. but you didn’t care. through your tension, he could feel your pleasure. he knew that you would writhe, squirm, but you couldn’t. not here.

you found yourself trembling. your grip around his wrist softened, lip caught between your top set of teeth. you were lucky that the tablecloth was acting as a barrier between any wandering eyes–though, shamefully, that was the last thing on your mind.

but right now, you felt yourself coming to a clearing. a light at the end of the tunnel in the name of your orgasm. shit.

it took only one quick glance around the room to see that everyone was done with their meals. with empty plates, they were awaiting more. and more you shall give, best to get up rather than submit to lando’s toilsome teasing. you couldn’t give him this pleasure. not when he toyed with you, refused to admit to any truths that might belittle his feelings.

you finally shoved his hand away. it took all the might you had, and it even had his head shifting in your direction. you stood, and he immediately tugged the hem of your skirt down beneath the table cloth. if anyone noticed, they didn’t say a word.

“dessert, anyone?”

there was a small rally of cheers, and you smiled. it was the only thing that could get your mind off of lando’s hand between your legs. the flushed expression you wore didn’t wane until you were alone in the kitchen.

it was ice cream that was for dessert, and that would be enough. you put out some toppings for them to choose from, and returned with the platter. you set it toward the center of the table, and the pickings were gone instantly. everyone had their own serving, side bowl, ready to go.

but lando waited for you to settle back in before he grabbed a pint of vanilla. he nudged the ice cream scooper towards your direction, a silent indication that had him asking if he could serve yours. you simply nodded, even though your cunt burned with the phantom touch of his fingers. he did that to you in no way another man could. leave you wanting more. sex with your ex boyfriend had been a joke. you never came. ever. you only did when it was at your own hand, your own touch. but with lando…

lando on that balcony, dressed in the pale moonlight. you, his angel, glowing halo of energy illuminating your face, unraveled before him. he doesn’t think he’s ever met such a woman receptive to his touch. he’s fucked girls before, too many for max’s taste–hence his displeasure– but they weren’t like you. they didn’t squirm, whimper, in his hold. they’d moan like they were being televised, recorded, ready to be on a screen play.

you were natural. beautiful. incapable of being anyone but yourself. he admired you for such bravery, commending you silently through the cosmic planes. though you could not hear the words from him, you felt a warmth coming from his direction despite the cold treat being scooped into the dish in front of you.

he gave you more than enough and smiled. a real one, you caught. it was a break from the humidity, a breeze that was most welcomed upon your skin. fuck. you were supposed to be mad at him, weren’t you? weren't you supposed to plot your volatile revenge for him touching you?

you were.

when he settled beside you with his own serving, you were quick to shuffle a bit closer to him. the chair scooted across the floor, a vibration felt beneath his own, and he bristled. what were you up to? you appeared to be happier, a bit less caught up in your own head, and that he could be grateful for. you even engaged in a few conversations with max’s friends.

they were lovely chaps, truly, but they were his friends. not yours.

lando was just about to respond to a question that max had asked him, but he coughed on his ice cream, the feeling of your fingertips darting across his crotch taking a huge galavanting surprise out of him. he didn’t know that you had such austerity within you, but it was a welcome discovery.

but your skillfulness was not.

the outline of his cock beneath his shorts was obvious. you felt the light curve, the tip, the base all beneath your palm. it was an empowering sensation, hidden beneath the table cloth, and lando had to outstretch both of his hands to steady himself.

“y’alright, mate?” max asked when lando coughed. the british driver nodded beside you, leaning forward.

“yeah. fine. carry on?” max repeated his question for lando. before he was about to answer for a second time, your hand curled around the base of his cock, feeling full in your palm. your thumb brushed against his tip, smiling to yourself when you felt a light wet patch against your finger.

he sucked in a tight breath, but answered max with a strained voice. he clenched his jaw tight and his tongue poked the inside of his cheek. you knew you were riling him, and it was paying off to see him flustered.

you continued your stroking motion discreetly beneath the table. the excitement of being caught was perhaps too thrilling, and the presence of your hand against his cock only excited you further. he was big. that was enough for you to be floored. your guesses as a edgy teenage girl were correct, and the woman inside of you purred at the idea of him inside of you.

little did you know, he thought the same. when his fingers were lodged inside your hot folds, your deathly tight grip clamping around him, he knew that he had to have you. he knew it years ago, too, but just how pretty you were atop of him…how receptive you were to his touch– it was a pillar of pleasure that continued to build and build, until it will ultimately fall.

until it will fall, and he is deep inside of you. with the outline of his cock embedded in your lower belly he would feel satisfied, with his cum dripping from your cunt, he could find a peace from this torturous lust that overtook every fucking part of his mind. he needed you. carnally. in whatever fashion labeled him as a barbarian, he would hunt you down if that is what you wanted.

and maybe you did.

you wanted him to chase you. to fight for you. to appease the teenage girl inside of you that yearned for his affections, his oblivious attentions. you felt that you deserved it for all the work you put in through your teendom. the boys you rejected. the time you gave up to attend his races.

was that such a bad thing to be wanted? to be wanted above all, by the man of your wonderlike dreams? but was he so dreamy, then, when he glanced at you with his needy, preening eyes when you held his cock so firm in your hand?

the answer was undoubtedly yes.

you felt the pulse of his cock against your hand. it was a delectable vibration that beat for you of all people. you felt more than divine prowess gripping his length, such a dirty, lewd, action beneath the table. and none of them knew what you had been doing. how you were affecting him. it was a secret wasn’t it?

the catalyst for your movements was about to be thwarted when he readjusted his hips in the chair, bucking fiercely against your touch, your hold on his dick.

conversations around you began to dull down to a minimum. the night was ending, and he felt himself rearing a release. but he couldn’t. not here. fuck. he gripped on your hand beneath the table, shivering, shaking, as he pleaded you with his eyes. they were wide drawn, glossed with a desperation that you needed permanently in your life. it was a face you wouldn’t forget. ever. how he yearned to cum in your hand, but it wasn’t the right time. when would be the right time?

“since you made dinner,” max began, letting out a grueling burp, “i say we lot ‘ought to tidy up, shall we?” the boys nodded and hummed amongst each other in agreement. they made quick pace clearing the table, and this was lando’s excuse to rip himself free of your devilish hand. though he wanted nothing more than to cum with your sleek fingertips, he had to be nonchalant about it all.

he cleared his throat when he stood, feigning a quietness that felt unusual, but no one said a word. you smiled to yourself, pulling your hand away back to your lap. it was damp from his precum, sordid with an urge to pop a finger or two into your mouth. and you did. pretending to clean yourself from any residue of icecream, you licked your fingers clean.

lando stared. unable to take his eyes off of you. he lingered with his hand around your bowl and plate, his breath hitching in his throat. devil woman, he thought.

when the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher and the fragile ones laid out to dry, you finally stood. you arched your back, stretching your limbs, but felt cold on your cunt. it was the air conditioning that cooled you, reminding you that he was the one to tease you first beneath the table.

your brother bid you goodnight with a kiss to your cheek, whilst the others thanked you sincerely for the meal. you were grateful to receive such gratitude, but it wasn’t from the man you wanted it the most.

tucking your chair into the table, you made your way into the grand kitchen. with its tiled walls, marbled kitchen island, lando stood at the epicenter. with a towel in his hand, drying the last few of the dishes, he watched you saunter in.

his tongue poked at the inner corner of his cheek with a clenched jaw. boy, did he have words for you. you and your actions. how you ruined him at the dinner table whilst talking to your brother of all people. it was like you wanted them to see–

when you joined him side by side, the pair of you said nothing for a moment. but the moment when lando scanned the room front to back, he dropped the towel and grabbed onto you.

he spun you around so your front pushed against the kitchen aisle, your back arching against the palm of his hand. his second went around the front of your throat, pulling your head up to his own.

“that what you wanted?” he growled into your ear, trembling with his edged orgasm teetering on the tailend of a massacre. “hmm? tell me, baby.”

you were at a loss of words, dizzied from the grip around your throat. you wished that he would leave bruises.

then he bent you over the counter, the cool surface eliciting a gasp from deep within you. his hand flexed over your back, scaling your spine.

“being a fucking tease…”

“you started it.” you retaliated with a childlike immaturity.

lando chuckled as his crotch came flush against your cunt. your wet, dampening cunt by the second. the hand that had been latched to your throat moved to your skirt, toying with the fabric. he scoffed, feeling the wetness of your panties. “bet you’re still wet anyways.”

you were.

your face flushed.

“dirty fucking girl.” he said quietly, a comment to himself, but loud enough for you to hear. you swayed your hips against his, desperate for a flickering sensation of friction.

“ah ah,” he tsked, landing a slap to your ass. the sound ricocheted through the echoing kitchen. “think you deserve it after tonight?”

you mewled in response, your cheek freezing against the countertop. the heat from your asscheek was enough to satisfy you for the moment, your thighs clenching together. he ogled, head twisting in a fashion that was revered with lust.

with a fist he made a makeshift ponytail of your hair, pulling your head back against his chest. “hmm?”

“no.”

“no?” he’d repeat. you nodded your head, submitting to him without question. he was peeved that you didn’t fight back, but would take your submission with earnestness. but you had other plans brewing inside your head. ones that you knew would drive him up the fucking wall.

but that would come later. for now, you let your head fall backward onto his shoulder, and looked up at him. “let me fix it…”

your whimpering had his eye twitching, lip curling, arms flexing. it was a gut reaction to how soft your voice had become, how eager he knew you were.

his hold on you loosened, and you took this as your opportunity to spin around and drop to your knees in front of him. you couldn’t help but gape at his thundering cock beneath his shorts, salivating at just the thought of him filling your mouth.

but he said nothing else, stunned in his place; how could he not be when you regarded him with ardor, quivering hands?

“please…” you said, your cheek coming to nuzzle against his thigh, one hand gripping the back of his calf. he couldn’t reject you like this. not when he wanted you so dearly.

a hand came to run through your hair atop your head. an nonverbal, encouraging pet. you hummed, making quick work of lowering his shorts, his briefs, and his cock sprung free with vitality. it was red hot, pulsating with blood, beating a bright scarlet for you. it glistened with his own slick for you.

“go on, love,” he was breathless. “you can take it, can’t you?”

you nodded furiously, a whine leaving your lips. with your determined fingers, you wrapped them around his base, pumping your hand back and forth. it didn’t take much before he was leaking over your palm, and you let your lips swirl around his tip.

his head fell back in pleasure, fingers tightening his grip in your hair. with his empty hand, he gripped the island to support his weight from toppling upon you.

he was both sweet and salty, a sensation you’ve never tasted before. you continued your relentless pursuit on his tip until he was wrought with desperation, and let his hips buck forward until he was half way down your throat.

you groaned in protest, your eyes watering with tears, but took him like the good girl you were. he wanted you, and you wanted him. you could ask for nothing more.

“just like that, baby–” he stuttered out, voice cracking when you took him whole down your throat. you breathed through your nose. “fuck,” he cursed, your lips puckering, even stimulating him with the top ridges of your teeth. he let out a deep moan.

“perfect,” he commented, but you thought you misheard him for a moment. “you’re perfect.”

it persuaded you further–not like much was needed– and sped up your pace. faster and faster you went, guzzling him perfectly. with your other hand that gripped his calf, calm to knead at his balls. that was the moment he faltered, unable to withstand your feverish tongue. he had to bite back his own groans of pleasure.

“where?” he demanded of you. you paused, but didn’t take long for your answer. he was holding himself back as much he could, his hips bucking down the hot cavern of your throat, but you didn’t relent. my mouth, your actions screamed, and he didn’t think twice.

before you knew it your mouth was loaded with his cum, hot rods of delectable nectar from him. you were pleased, more than satisfied, that you made him cum in just a matter of minutes.

he pulled himself out of you, letting you breathe. you swallowed, not finding him distasteful, and even showed him your bare tongue. he was panting, attempting his best to catch his breath, but managed a coarse chuckle.

you gave his flaccid cock a singular kiss before you rose to your feet, bringing his shorts and briefs up with you. he adjusted himself before launching his lips on your own. the remnants of him were prominent on your tastebuds as he swirled his tongue into your mouth. you allowed his strength, making a sound from your throat.

“taste like me,” he commented against your lips. you beam.

“must’ve been good, then?” you knew it was. but you wanted to hear it from him.

he snickered. “guess so.”

you slapped his chest before breaking your kiss. you glanced up at him one more time before placing a kiss on his cheek, escaping his grasp. he held onto your hand, though, wondering just where you were going. not when he didn’t have you cumming on his tongue.

“it’s past my bedtime,” you remarked, raising your brows. his own scrunched. “what?”

“let me–”

you shushed him.

“on the house.”

you were gone before he could respond, skipping up the steps, ready to set your plan in motion. he didn’t know what was coming, not yet, but he surely would once you closed the door to your room, and stripped of your clothes.

you left him there pondering. he was entirely at a loss— you skirting away with ease, high tail with that lacey material– and vanished without another word. it had lando breathing heavily, hands running through his hair. shit, he thought, this was bad.

in the bathroom of your suite, you twisted the shower on. whilst waiting for it to heat up, you turned your attention towards the open shaft windows that you could prop open. your room is next to mine, lando’s words rang through your head. okay, you thought, game on, right?

you made sure the windows were open at a respectable distance, praying that his own would be too. he liked the cool breeze from the night, pray tell from his times of sleeping in max’s room in your childhood home.

glancing at yourself in the mirror once, you were betting on this to work. to truly grab his attention, whilst also awarding yourself a release you’d been craving since his fingertips caressed your knee.

into the shower you went, tilting your head back and letting the waterfall drench your scalp. it was relaxing, more than you anticipated, and your mind was able to wander to other things. like his hands. his toned, muscular arms. his neck, built intensely with strength that you’ve never seen before. in certain lights, especially beneath the italian sun, it bulged outward. you wondered what it’d feel like between your thighs. your fingers wandered along your soaked skin, breasts reacting to your touch, taut beneath your palms.

lando had just shut the door to his room, shaking off the sweat that dribbled down his forehead. and his windows were open— the curtains swaying back and forth— and he heard your call.

at first, the british driver thought that he was hallucinating. that he was hearing things from losing it. but there was no denying that it was your sweet siren serenading through the air, wafting against the mediterranean winds.

a moan had been pulled from you by your own hand. your head flat against the tiles of the shower wall, you twisted until your cheek was firm against the siding. one hand came to rest on the base of your throat, gripping for comfort, while the other trailed downward to your navel, priming at your folds.

you were swollen hot, but never to the same degree you were on his lap just the previous night.

it was enough, though, for you to rub against your clit the way you knew your body best. a delicious combination of whimpers and moans trembling through the air.

lando was brought to his fantasies, unbelieving that they were coming alive before him. he leaned against the windows from his room, hand clenching tight around the ledge, and listened to your whining calls, urging him, tempting him, to knock down your fucking door and fuck you like you wanted him.

a finger slid easily inside of you. with both stimulation to your clit and your sensitive nerves inside of you, it was heaven. the hot water combined with your punitive thoughts, tracing back to lando, aroused you to a degree unfathomable to any pleasure you’ve ever felt. besides his fingers, that is.

lando couldn’t resist. his own cock was blistering with heat, again, in just the span of ten minutes. you had just been on his knees for him. now, here you were, a siren within the night, taking him under your bewitching.

and spellcasted he was.

with his dick in his hands, he was dripping. your sounds became louder, prominent, for his open window. and he absorbed every droplet you gave him, a man dehydrated of the world’s most sweet nectar. he was greedy, selfish even, and knew then that he had to be yours. he didn’t give a fuck what max said, thought, cared about this moment. it would belong to him and him alone— your saccharine temper.

he could imagine you there, thinking about just how desperate he was. how you knew what you were doing to him. how he unfolded before your voice.

you were.

you thought of his face. how it contorted with pleasure while you sucked him off. you’d remember the sounds he made— whimpers of desperate, wicked nature— that had you curling your finger inside of you, even becoming so bold as to add a second. it should be criminal to think of your brother’s best friend this way, but that thought came and went just as the tides changed.

lando fisted his cock with the thought of you wrapped around him. hand draped across the ledge of the windowsill, he writhed and seethed from his own daring thoughts of you. your skirt, your pretty eyes, your wondrous nature. he was awed by you, but wanted to damn you to ruin with his touch. it pursued him further, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long.

surely he wouldn’t, not when he heard his name carry through the air. his name rolling off your tongue. his name in the form of a whimper.

“lando,” you breathed, loud enough to surpass the stream of the water. and your stomach coiled, reaching an orgasm before you could count to three.

lando had, too, spurring loads of his come into his empty hand. it wasn’t an elegant movement— rather messy and untamed— but that’s how it was when it came to you, wasn’t it? nothing was going to be easy about this relationship he conjured up in his head, but for you, though it’d be worthwhile.

you went to bed that night with a sleep full of your wildest, fanatical dreams that included lando. whereas he tossed and turned, unable to believe that the girl he knew in his childhood had him wrought with lust.

the morning that followed was a quiet one. you and the rest of the vacation group of boys were headed out to one of italy’s finest beaches, chartered there by a small boat. you had opted for one of your best bathing suits and cover up pieces, looking outright chic.

when you arrived at the beach, you stuck closely to max’s side. the entire ride, lando had been stealing glances from you, shifting awkwardly in his seat. you had your answer from your plan the previous night. he heard you.

good, you thought, crossing your legs over one another. serves him right.

you’d lay out your towel on the white sand. your brother joined you, laying down a few feet from you along with some of his buddies. lando kept his distance, knowing too fucking well that’d he’d pull some feral shit in front of you and your brother.

some of the others opted for surfing. with their boards ready from the rental shack, they were catching waves with ease. you watched from your upright position, lathering yourself in spf.

“what’dya think of chris?” your brother asked you. you turned your head, wondering what he was implying. chris was one of his good-natured, all classic, sweet boy friends. you’d known him for a good majority of your life, but never…really thought of him.

“he’s a good guy.”

lando was sitting up now. listening.

“well,” max shrugged, taking your nonchalant answer with grace. “asked me if it was okay to give him your number. think he fancies you.”

your expression dropped. chris fancied you? in what universe could he, when he couldn’t even manage a conversation with you. you weren’t even sure he could ever muster the courage to look you in the eye, for that matter.

“and…what did you say?”

max looked at you with his sunglasses on. you saw your reflection in them.

“think it’s fine. ‘e’s a good lad. nice. well-mannered.” he emphasized his last point. was that a jab at your previous boyfriends? “besides…i wanna see you happy.”

it was touching, truly, that your brother cared for you on such a protective level, but you didn’t need him meddling with your romantic life. not when the man who consumed your sexual thoughts sat a few bodies next to you.

your eyes drifted to find lando’s. he was already glaring, sending sharp daggers your direction. he heard it all, and was about to combust with jealousy. you could see it. you’d use it.

“maybe.” you brushed it off, but found chris in the waters. he was just coming out from the sea, and you thought this was your perfect opportunity.

you jumped to your feet, sunglasses on, and tore your cover up from your body. you didn’t look back to know what lando’s expression was— worshiping.

chris’ head popped up when he saw you approaching him. he shifted a bit, as if he were preening his feathers.

“catch any good ones?” you asked, your feet touching the water. chris cleared his throat.

“some,” he gestured to the large waves. “current is strong today.”

you edged further into the water until your knees were covered.

“you looked good out there, at least i think so.” you managed a smile, not entirely opposed to his company. your brother had been right. he is a nice lad. you should at least build a friendship with him, shouldn’t you?

“really?” he was shocked. “you were watching?”

you nodded with a hum, and continued further out into the blue waters. chris took this as an invitation and dropped his board high up on the sand and followed you in. he wasn’t as built as lando was, but you shouldn’t even be making the comparisons.

you stopped when the water was just beneath your breasts. water seeped in through your top, and you noticed that chris’ eyes caught on the fabric. typical.

“what do you do for work, then? are you a student?” you managed a brief conversation with him. chris met you at your side.

“business student in scotland,” he confirmed, but he wasn’t all cocky about it. you thought that he’d boast, but he didn’t. “yourself?”

you told him your plans. he was impressed that you’d accomplished so much at your age.

and your conversation with him went on, but not without the darkness of lando’s envy over your shoulder. you’d taken a few glances over chris’ shoulder to see his reddened expression, watching the pair of you share a few laughs.

he wanted this day to be fucking over. he wanted you in his bed. and he would have it one way or another— whatever it takes.

arriving back to the villa that evening, your brother and his friends wanted to go out clubbing. it was around 8pm and the sun was beginning to set, though you didn’t feel like a night out. the sun had gotten to you, and you were rather tired.

“you’re sure you don’t wanna go?” max asked you in the foyer, waiting for the rest of his band to go along.

“i’m sure. besides, i could use a night in.” your brother respected your choice and didn’t push you further. before he left with his friends, he did turn and leave you with one comment.

“lando’s here, too, in case you need anything.”

and then he was gone, tailending with chris flashing you a smile.

shit.

shit, shit, shit. you knew you were in for it now. there was no way that you’d escape lando for the evening, unsure how he caught notice that you’d be staying in for the night.

when the door shut and the house was empty, you raced up to your room. you’d worn a floor length slip dress when you’d gotten home, but wanted to change and lock yourself in for the rest of the night. but your situation changed drastically when you reached the first step, and saw lando leaning against the staircase from the top.

“just you and me, yeah?”

you gulped, taking a few steps back. he looked furious yet unbothered at the same time.

“what to do, what to do…” he began to saunter down the steps when you moved back. “in this big, empty house…?”

he trailed after you all the way until you were on the balcony. he slipped out from the sliding door, watching as you were frantically nervous in his presence. you had no idea what he was thinking, watching you all day flirt with chris.

your back was against the stone balustrade, hands spread wide to support yourself. your heart was racing, but you wouldn’t let him see that. wouldn’t show him the effect he had.

lando wore a black ln4 shirt from his collection, along with tan sweatpants. it was an understatement to say he didn’t look fucking good.

he donned a cocky smirk as he closed the distance between the two of you, leaning into your space. you felt his breath on your cheek.

“he’s a good lad, innhe?”

you met his eye— his blue, green eyes that were swarmed with a darkness you didn’t believe him capable of.

“he’s nice.” you said, referring to chris. because he was. he was respectful.

“‘he’s nice.’” lando mocked, scoffing. he turned his head to the side to look over your shoulder to the coastline that surrounded the villa.

“yes, he’s nice.” you bit back, brows furrowing. “more than i can say for you.”

lando’s expression froze, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. his jaw tightened as he processed your words, foot tapping against the stone.

“yeah? you don’t think i’m good to you?”

whatever this was…you loved it. you craved him. needed him. there was a zing of electricity that ran down your spine, electrifying your cunt. your thighs tightened together and you shrugged, playing him off the best that you could.

he tsked, tilting your chin to meet his eyes with his index finger. “we’ll see.”

and then his lips were on yours. ravaging. starving. he was a man that has been deprived of you for far too long— twenty four hours— without your touch. it was maddening the way he was obsessed with you. how you infested every corner of his mind. you, you, and more you.

you succumbed to his kiss with ease, your tongues battling between one another. he tasted of espresso, whereas you tasted of the apple liquor from the boat.

he won, ultimately, a hand coming to wrap around the back of your neck. your own latched to his shoulders, another going for his hair. you tugged on the strands, eliciting a groan from him that you wished to hear over and over, time and time again. you were sure that you would, not daring to ever let him go. you had him surrounded.

his tongue lathered over yours, dripping saliva down your chin. it was messy, intangibly so, but you’d have him no other way. you wanted him like this, uncontrolled, pining, for your affections. you had him in the place you wanted, and he had more in store for you.

he broke the kiss with a string of saliva connecting the pair of you. your eyes heavy with desire, his own mirroring the same. his kisses traveled to your jaw, your throat— but he sucked feverishly against the skin, surely to leave bruises. you gasped when you felt his teeth puncture through the top layer of your skin. “marks—”

you reminded him, but he didn’t care.

“fuck what they think.”

you melted where you stood. his hand came to wrap around your lower back, angling your hips to brush against his. he was already hard, you could feel it, but you were sure that you were dribbling too.

his relentless pursuit of your neck didn’t end there. when he met the fabric of your dress, he pulled the straps down with ease, your breasts falling free. he ogled at your mounds, saliva dripping from his chin. it was, perhaps, the hottest sight you’ve ever seen. not the waterfalls of france, not the cascades of lake como— but this, right here— lando norris drooling on your chest.

“what would you do with ‘nice’?” he mumbled into your skin, attacking one of your perked nipples with his tongue. you gasped, biting your lip to retain a moan.

“he could treat me well,” you seethed through clenched teeth, gripping the strands of his brunette curls. you felt him vibrate with a hum.

“you’d eat him alive.” he chuckled, switching to your other nipple that was blistering with heat. your entire body radiated like the sun, but did no good beneath the moonlight. “what would he do—” a nip of his teeth against your nipple, you jolted, hips bucking forward with an anxious pension for friction. “with all of this?”

you were at a loss for words, drowning in his sweetness.

“let it go to waste…” lando dropped to his knees with a hand still firm on your back, the other raising the hem of your dress. he tsked, cheek flattening out against your thighs. he separated them with the strength of his neck, looking up at you from the bundled fabric. “a shame.”

you agreed mercilessly, nodding your head with a whimper. it elicited a laugh from him.

with a singular finger he pulled down your panties. the cotton was thin, as if you knew this would happen. they slid down your legs and you kicked them away.

your hand was still threaded at the base of his neck, continuing to tug at his strands. it’s how you told him you needed him, but that wouldn’t be enough. not for lando.

“what do you want?” he asked, looking up at you from his seated position, face wedged between your legs. you gaped at him, breathless and flushed.

“your mouth—” you pant, but before you could finish he licked a long stripe down your folds. “god, fuck—”

“not god,” lando corrected. “just me, baby.”

“lando, lando…!” you whined, back arching for a better angle for him to reach. he responded, humming against your clit, sending throttling vibrations up your navel. he was so fucking good. how? how could a man treat you in such a way?

finding your writhing adorable, he finally let his tongue swipe past your entrance. the sensation was indescribable, but you knew that you needed more. and more he was willing to give, burying his face into your cunt.

your honeyed cunt that he was addicted to. he knew you’d taste like heaven, but this was all the more holy than he could fathom.

with his face buried inside of you, you were sure to see stars. here, beneath the moonlight of the italian villa, you were ethereal. he could steal glances up at you. your contorting face, toiling with passion. passion that he drank from the source, sucking you dry.

his nose applied pressure to your clit— the perfect combination— and you knew that you weren’t going to last long. not with his jean paul scent invaded your senses, his thick hands cupping you so perfectly. one hand kneaded at the flesh of your thigh, the other swirling circles on your lower back. it was perfect. he’s perfect.

“please, please,” you didn’t know what you were begging for.

lando hummed, feeling your cunt clench around his tongue. he curled inside of you, teetering you upon your edge, and you were just about to let loose when he pulled his head away, leaving you trembling.

he stood with ease, as if he wasn’t just devouring you, and you reached out for his hand. you were about to reach the peak of a mind blowing orgasm, but he denied you. with your hand wrapped around his, he knew how this would end. his lips came to your ear.

“you were right,” he huffed. you felt his retentive anger. “don’t know if i’m nice.”

he tugged you along through the house, hand upon your back steading your shaking stance. too impatient to help you up the steps, he swooped you into his arms bridal style. you gasped with a giggle, reflexive from his actions, and he burst open the door to his room with his shoulder.

he dropped you onto his bed, ripping off his shirt in the process you propped yourself up on your elbows, gaping clearly at his tanned, toned skin. he smirked down at you, coming to hover above, and stripped the dress clean from your body. before him, you were bare, naked, more exposed than you've ever been with your brother’s best friend.

you went to cover your chest, clamp your thighs shut, but lando refused. he trapped your wrists above your head, knee coming to separate your legs. you wiggled your hips hopelessly for friction, still wading heavy on your lost orgasm, but he didn’t let you graze his thigh.

“you’re being mean,” you whined, attempting to twist out of his hold. but you didn’t prevail.

lando’s lips met yours with a kiss of depravity. he pulled away, but you chased him, your head leveraging from the bed.

“am i?”

one hand left the hold on your wrists to touch your cunt. you were dripping down your thighs. he brought his fingers to his lips, wiping them clean.

“think you like it, love.”

you hissed when he took his hand from you, but relaxed when he kneaded one of your breasts. he was in utter reverence of your body, your beauty. you eclipsed all things that shined bright in his life, you becoming the epicenter.

his pants were off in the next second, thrown to the corner of his room. his briefs, too, and his cock danced freely from its entrapment. your mouth watered.

“this what you need?” his tip teased your entrance. your eyes rolled back into your head with a frenzied nod. “yeah? think you can take it?”

“yes, yes! i can, i can, please lando…” your hand latched around the back of his neck, the other to his shoulder.

it didn’t take him much convincing to surge forward, agonizingly slow, until he has inside of you. you choked on your breath, the air ripped right from you lungs with how he stretched you. it was alike no pleasure you’ve felt— his fingers, his tongue, all works of mastery— but you feared that nothing could compare to this. not when his hand around your breasts drop to your cunt, rubbing voracious circles against your clit.

he let you adjust, waiting until you shook your hips from side to side, and bottomed out. it was surreal how you ended up here. but you wouldn’t go back. not for a second. not when his dick inside of you ripped through you with such passion, such love, you were inclined to imagine.

lando’s own breaths were wild. erratic. he had to halt himself from slamming inside of you, your tightening, wet walls gleaning him of any morals he had come into this villa with.

“move,” you urged him, breaking him free of this torment. his eyes flared wide. “need you to move.”

need

such an all encompassing word that would drive him mad.

he listened to you without hesitation. his hips slapping in and out of you with a heavy, dangerous pace, he never wanted this moment to end. it would feel like this every time he fucked you— the first, starstruck time— and that would be enough for him to lay to rest in an early grave.

both of you were a mess of moans, sounds of skin on skin echoing through his bedroom. the moonlight casted a white haze upon the pair of you, your eyes shimmering in the reflection. he was lost in it, in you, how seraphic you’d become in just the few days he’d been around you. how undone he became. he was a lost cause the minute you made a jest to him at the dinner table.

his chest lowered to yours for a better, sweeter, angle and it had you screaming. your nails cut through his back, leaving reddened scratches against his tanned, freckled skin. he loved it. it had his pace quickening, and his hand working harder at your clit. you were close, he could feel it.

feeling the way you began to tighten around him, how you became barely lucid beneath him. “so good,” you mewled, finding no other words but to praise him.

“nothing compares,” he groaned, his head falling into the crook of your neck. “you’ll be mine then, yeah?”

your heart surged in your chest, but your breathing remained the same. you were too fucked out to truly resonate the meaning behind his words.

“yours, yours,” you repeated over and over until you were sent over the edge. you screamed his name, cutting through the air, cutting through him. he was left a sopping mess with his quivering hips, sloppy pace. you knew he was going to cum, too, when his teeth grinded together, and he let out a guttural moan. it churned your insides, swishing your heart through.

he came inside of you. you felt it, the heat from his cock. but he made no effort to move. you didn’t want him to.

the pair of you laid atop one another in his dark room. panting. catching your breaths. in unison your hearts would align. sweaty bodies melting against each other.

his head was buried deep into your neck, breathing you in. you soothed him, just as much as you riled him to no end.

“did you mean it?” you asked, voice hoarse.

lando hummed.

“about us.”

you felt his teeth break into a smile against your skin. he raised his head to look at you. “i did.” your breath caught in your throat. “don’t give a shit what max’ll say. we’ll figure it out, won’t we?”

you nodded in agreement. your brother would simply have to deal with this. he’d get over it in time, you’re sure, and it would be the best for both of you. no longer would you yearn at a distance for a man you thought didn’t spare you a second glance. no longer would you dream of this moment materializing before you. it had become a reality, and there was nothing more that you could be grateful for.

he wanted you. lando wanted you. and you wanted him the same. it was one of the first times in your life that you felt safe. comforted in a newborn relationship.

it wasn’t long before lando pulled the covers of his sheets over the two of you, holding you tight as you shifted into the shape of his body. you were a perfect fit, a missing puzzle piece that he’s been searching years for.

and now you were here, sleeping soundly in his arms.

lando had found sleep, too, his soft snores carrying through the room. you and him paid no attention to the fact you were sharing a bed. if anyone walked in, then they walked in. you were at peace, and that was enough.

sooner rather than later, the party-goers for the evening arrived home. they attempted their best to be quiet at such an odd hour, and decided to retire. max and chris went out to the balcony, however, and decided for a small chat.

but before that could even commence, chris noticed a piece of black fabric loose on the patio. he stared at it from above, brows raised.

“mate,” he called max over. he met him at his side.

“this yours?” he pointed down at it, and his face went ghastly white. no fucking way.

“motherfucker.”

tags ; @landoslutmeout @basicallyric @mybluesoul1 @toriiez @customsbyjcg-blog @sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

2K notes · View notes

lustspren · 1 month

Text

family ties ft Chaewon.

length: 10.3k words✦

Male reader, Male Character (starring Luke Newton cause idk) X Chaewon (playing Anna).

genres: incest (GoT (not it’s not sister-brother) and HOTD (no it’s not uncle-nephew) fans this one is for you), double blowjob, threesome, hard sex, carry fuck, double penetration, spitroast, facefuck, anal, british chaewon btw. ✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Going to the Egerton family gatherings wasn't exactly one of your favorite things in the world; you preferred to stay away from them, that way you avoided uncomfortable questions or sharp hints towards yourself, something you were used to in a family whose lineage was always focused on only one lifestyle. Kind of a black sheep was what you were, but you were never treated differently, luckily.

Still, it was exhausting having to feel different all the time. Out of place. You loved your family, and they loved you, but you just felt like you didn't fit in. That was why of five meetings you were invited to, you went to two at most.

But this time the situation warranted your presence, and you couldn't be so rude as to reject the invitation. It was a party for your cousin, who recently graduated from Cambridge University with a degree in medicine, enough merit for a big celebration. You just had to go. Not only because it was the morally right thing to do, but because her brother, also your cousin, had been trying to convince you all week.

So there you were, alone in your room while you finished getting ready to go out. You expected that they would force you to dress formally for the occasion, as was always the case when a big celebration was held at your cousins' house, but this time they gave you complete freedom—within certain limits, of course. Your cousin's insistence, perhaps, but you were grateful.

The start of the party was at 8 pm, and it was already 6:40. You lived in Northampton, a city about an hour west of Cambridge, if you wanted to arrive on time, you had to hurry up and leave at that precise moment. And so you did it. After making sure you were as presentable and handsome as possible, you grabbed your phone, your wallet, and your car keys to finally head to your destination.

That damn mansion never ceased to amaze you, even after having visited it countless times throughout your life. It consisted of two floors, with a subtle and perfect mix between modern and Victorian architecture, especially in the windows, which abounded in every corner, and the pair of chimneys that protruded from the mansard roofs.

You parked your car outside, in front of the short black fence that separated the sidewalk from the big lovely garden that preceded the house. Parked near you were a few cars that you recognized immediately, some from your uncles and great-uncles, and others from distant relatives who always attended these types of gatherings. There was only one that you didn't recognize, but you assumed it was some friend of your cousin, so you didn't give it any more importance.

When you got off you looked towards the right side of the house, towards the patio where the barbecues were always held and where the guests used to gather. Apparently you had arrived just in time, because you could see some of your other cousins barely greeting your uncles—the owners of the house—and their sons. So you rushed to join.

You walked down the long polished granite path that led to the main entrance of the house, only to then step onto the lawn and cross the garden. When you arrived at the patio, the first to notice your presence was your cousin, Jaime. As handsome and smiling as always.

"Ayeeeee! You made it!" he said with a wide smile, arms open as he walked down the steps of the small deck that led into the house. "I knew you'd come!"

Before you could say anything, Jaime caught you in a tight hug, almost causing you to drop the bottle of wine you had brought for the occasion. You laughed, and reciprocated his hug with a smile.

"It's not like I have a choice, right?" you joked, patting him on the back a couple of times. "It's great to see you, darling."

After hugging Jaime you now focused your gaze on Elena, his sister, and the reason why you had come from so far away. She greeted you with the same enthusiasm as Jaime, with a warm hug and words of relief for your presence. Then you went to the dining table area, where you also greeted your aunt and uncle, Jaime and Elena's parents.

For the next five minutes you stood there, greeting all your relatives and the guests who kept arriving. Everything was going normally, until out of the corner of your eye you noticed how inside, in the living room, a girl you had not seen before appeared. You turned around with your forehead wrinkled, confused. What your eyes saw was such a surprise that you stopped paying attention to Elena as she spoke.

"Huh? Is she… here?" you asked, ignoring what they told you.

Inside the house, on one side of the dining room table, was Anna Kim. A distant cousin that you could easily haven’t seen for four or five years since she was studying in Korea. You were never close to her; you only met at specific family gatherings since her father, apart from not being a direct member of the family, was an extremely busy man who did not last long at the meetings before having to leave with his daughter. Father, who, by the way, you had not seen anywhere when you arrived. Was that car hers then?

"Oh, Anna?" Jaime asked, following your gaze. Now you both watched her while she adjusted her earrings and choker. "Yeah, she arrived yesterday. She must have fallen asleep, I think."

You definitely remembered a few interactions with her, but damn, you didn't remember her being so… stupidly beautiful. She wore her long brown hair up in a high lace bun, with a few strands purposefully messy to complement her pretty bangs. Perhaps she was a little overdressed for the occasion, wearing a heart-shaped white top whose strips of sparkling sequins reflected the overhead lights and made her look like some kind of gem, and a short, slightly pompous black skirt that showed off a pair of long and sexy legs.

She looked graceful like the most beautiful and elegant of swans. It was obvious that she had turned out just like her mother, a woman from the Egerton family, and not like her father, a vulgar Korean man who lacked any kind of class. You couldn't stop looking at her for fear that she was some kind of angelic apparition that would disappear when you took your eyes off her. But you were forced to do so when she turned around and started to walk outside, straight towards you.

"Shit, keep it cool," you told Jaime, and tapped him in the stomach with the back of your hand to make him turn around.

You both turned around with your hands held behind your backs, pretending to watch the meeting. Anna stood right behind you, and in a polite gesture she cleared her throat to make her presence known.

"Good evening, gentlemen," she said from behind you. "You are doing an excellent job being the bastions of beauty in the family. Behind me and Elena, of course."

The first thing you noticed was that her accent was completely different from yours. The Egertons had a mainly Cockney accent. But Anna's accent sounded like that of a duchess; a beautiful, elegant, crystalline posh accent that, combined with that sweet voice, was like music to your ears.

Jaime turned around, and consequently so did you. From that distance, somehow she only managed to dazzle you even more with the unmatched beauty of her. She looked both of you in the eyes, hands clasped at the level of her belly.

"Well, you certainly make it difficult for us," Jaime said, with a smile. "You look stunning, I must say."

Anna smiled and nodded her head in thanks.

"Thank you, darling," she then looked at you. "Wow, I haven't seen you in a while, right?"

"Indeed," you nodded with a smirk. "Not since you left... four years ago?"

"Five," she corrected you. "But it felt like forever," she subtly spread her arms out to the sides. "Reunion hug?"

"I could never refuse."

Unlike your previous hugs with Jaime and Elena, Anna's hug was more reserved and careful, but still warm enough to feel the affection in it. She had her arms wrapped around your lower back, while yours went behind her shoulders. You weren't surprised to smell the expensive perfume she was wearing. Miss Dior, surely.

"You better hurry up and greet the guests," Jaime said. "You and Elena are the only girls in the family, you must look radiant."

Anna finally pulled away from you and stood on tiptoe to place an affectionate kiss on your forehead, followed by a rub with her thumb there. She then looked at Jaime.

"Looking radiant is the best thing I do, dear," she winked at him, and walked past the two of you to go down the steps to where all the guests were. "Wait for me and we can go inside for some drinks, will you?"

"Mother will have you constantly on the go," Jaime said with a chuckle. "Good luck with her," he motioned with his chin for her to leave.

"Bloody hell," you said, watching her greet your uncles and her friends. "What did they feed that girl?"

Jaime laughed and patted you on the back.

"I have no idea mate," he admitted. "But she is certainly a beacon in the night."

"You've been with her since yesterday," you turned to look at him. "Is she still as disastrous as she was as a child?"

Jaime remained silent, lowered his gaze and tried to hide a smile that made your suspicions skyrocket. You knew your cousin well; it was just the way he acted when he had done some mischief.

"You could say that, yeah," he said, and then he turned to look at you. "But she is a lovely girl, and an excellent fashion advisor by the way."

You narrowed your eyes and held his gaze.

"Sure," you said. "She advised you personally, I suppose."

Jaime laughed and returned to his classic position, with his hands behind his back.

"Why do you think I'm so good looking today?"

"Because you're an Egerton and because that's the minimum that auntie asks of you?"

"Believe me, mother doesn't care about me today. Elena has the deserved focus," he looked at his sister, who was talking to a boy that you didn't know but that you knew must be her boyfriend. "If it weren't for Anna I would look like a commoner."

"You've never looked like a commoner, Jaime."

Jaime raised an eyebrow, and took a few seconds of silence to look at you.

"Do you suspect me in any way, little cousin?" he asked, and narrowed his eyes.

"I have strong reasons for doing so," you nodded. "But I wouldn't dare make an accusation."

Jaime held your gaze for another few seconds, and in the end you both smiled. He then gave you a couple of pats on the cheek.

"Always so clever, aren't you?" he said. "There's a reason you're a private detective. When are you moving to London? I don't think there are so many opportunities in Northampton."

"Why? Don't you like having someone around who can know immediately when you're up to something?"

"That's exactly why, yeah. Elena is enough of a pain in the ass."

You both laughed, but he prolonged his laughter longer than you, so you took advantage of the moment to stare at both him and Anna, who was still with your uncles. Something had happened between the two of them, you were sure of that, but you were going to force yourself to not care. You'll be back home later, and Anna would probably leave back to Korea tomorrow. It wasn't relevant.

You and Jaime stayed there talking for a few minutes. It was a normal conversation, like the ones you always used to have. Even your uncle, Jaime's father, joined you at one point to talk about the last Arsenal game. But the debate about football lasted until Anna was finally able to get rid of your aunt and went with you.

"Finally free from your captivity?" you joked, as she stood next to you.

Anna sighed.

"Apparently so," she said. "Shall we go inside? My throat is already asking for something cold after so many presentations."

"Are you planning to miss your cousin's celebration by going inside to drink?" your uncle asked. "We have wine out here!"

Anna gave a small smile and squeezed your uncle's forearm affectionately.

"Take it easy, old bean," she said. "I have a lot to talk to my cousins about! I promise it won't be much."

"Your aunt won't be happy if she doesn't see you here," your uncle replied, and then looked at you and Jaime. "Same with you two."

"Why does she want us here all the time?" Jaime asked. "She has Elena and her boyfriend right there, and I'm sure her friends are about to arrive."

"Yes, she has enough to worry about," you came to Jaime's aid.

Your uncle let out a tired breath and shook his head to look at Anna.

"I have my trust in you, young lady," he told her, with a finger raised between the two of them. "If you're not here for the cake you'll be in serious trouble."

"Uncle, you know I would never miss cake," Anna replied. "You have my word."

"Alright, off you go," your uncle said, and he put his hands behind his back before returning to the gathering of people.

Anna stepped forward to take the space your uncle had left, and she gestured into the house with her chin.

"May I?" she said.

"Go ahead, miss," you said, and both you and Jaime stepped aside for her to pass.

Anna passed through the entrance that was right behind you, the one that led directly into the kitchen. You followed her.

"What does your father keep here to drink?" she asked, as she walked around the island and stood in front of the enormous wooden wall, filled with tall, rectangular panels behind which the pantry was stored. "I don't want wine today."

You rested your arms crossed on the island counter, on one side of the stools. Jaime on the other hand also circled the island and stood on Anna's side. He then pulled one of the panels towards him, to reveal a shelf filled with bottles of all kinds.

"The old man doesn't even drink often," he said, picking up a bottle of Hennessy Cognac. "He collects all these things because he no longer knows what to do with so much money."

Anna scanned all the possible options carefully, her pretty face illuminated by the shelf lights. She finally grabbed a bottle of Macallan M Whiskey. You immediately looked over your shoulder to make sure your uncle wasn't watching.

"A bold choice, if I may say so," you said with a giggle, and turned again to look at her. "That thing costs like seven thousand pounds, and uncle loves whiskey."

"If he loved it so much he wouldn't have it here collecting dust, don't you think?" she asked, one eyebrow raised. She then walked over to the island and placed the bottle on the counter.

"The poor man is 76 years old, and mother makes sure that he drinks only on special occasions," Jaime said as he opened another panel, which corresponded to the refrigerator. "Do you want something for the whiskey?"

"Hmmm, I don't know..." she said, and looked at you. "What would you choose?"

"I'd choose not to drink Cedric Egerton’s whiskey, of course," you shrugged. "But, some ginger ale would be wonderful with that particular one."

You looked at Jaime, who looked at you with a smile and snapped his fingers to point at you.

"That's why you're my favorite cousin," he said, took out three bottles of ginger ale and then closed the refrigerator.

You laughed and shook your head.

"I don't think that's too difficult," you said, as Jaime grabbed ice from a freezer next to the refrigerator.

"It is," Jaime stated, and then poured ice into three small glass glasses. "We Egertons are a big family," he looked at Anna with a sly smile. "We even have a member studying in Korea."

Jaime began to fill the glasses with the drink. He poured three fingers of whiskey, and filled the rest with ginger ale.

Anna let out a giggle, classy and contained.

"That just makes it funny," she said, as she took the glass Jaime had extended to her. You did the same. "A woman from the Egerton family marrying a Korean man? Your grandfather must have been twisting in his own grave."

You and Jaime shared a loud laugh. Then you took a sip of the drink. Anna imitated you.

"I don't think your mother was one of those who cared about family opinion," Jaime said, leaning on one elbow on the opposite corner of the counter where you were. "She saw her man, tied him up and here you are. A beautiful full-fledged Egerton woman."

Anna's smile faded away.

"It's a shame my father wants me to make my life there and not here," she said, stirring the ice in her glass as she stared into space. "I'll be forced to be Anna Kim for the rest of my days. Not Anna Egerton."

"But you can change that, right?" you asked. "I mean, legally."

"Yes, I could," she looked at you with a tired expression. "But then my father would murder me."

"Do you owe that man anything?" Jaime butted in.

Anna looked at Jaime and raised an eyebrow.

"He has given me everything since my mother died," she said. "Is that a bit for you?"

"Of course not," he quickly said. "But I'm just saying that you have more of a future as an Egerton than a Kim."

"And do you think I need a last name to show my worth?"

You noticed a subtle tonal change in Anna's voice. Nothing too remarkable, but she did sound more severe. Jaime was entering swampy terrain, and as always you had to go and get his feet out of the mud.

"What Jaime means is that here in England you could have double the contacts and support from your family," you said. "No one doubts how successful you can be on your own."

Jaime nodded, and Anna relaxed her posture. Then took another sip of her drink.

"I don't know," she said, and lowered the glass to look at Jaime. "There would have to be a good reason to stay... and so far I don't have one."

She and Jaime stared at each other for a few seconds in complete silence. You wrinkled your brow, looking at each of them. In short, something was happening there.

"But anyway," she continued, finally blinking with both eyebrows raised. "Why don't we go take a seat? We're here for everyone to see."

Just to your left was a large open living room, with a big sofa where you would be more than comfortable. But Jaime took you two to another place not so exposed to the eyes of everyone else: to the living room that was right behind the dining table, separated from it by a wall that in its first half had a small bonfire and in the other a counter with a dishwasher and a bucket full of ice.

Anna crossed the small space and sat on the sofa in front of the window. You and Jaime each sat on the individual sofas on your side. Now you two were separated from her by the short glass table right in the middle, which had a bowl full of fresh grapes. Anna leaned forward to pick one and put it in her mouth.

"Mmmm..." she frowned as she chewed. "These grapes are magnificent. In Korea they taste like cardboard."

Between you and Jaime there was a small pedestal-table that reached your waist. You put your glass on top, but Jaime put it on the edge of the glass table.

"They're from father's vineyard in Florence," Jaime said, also picking one up. "You should go see it someday. Beautiful lands."

"And are you going to take me there?" Anna asked.

"As long as it's your wish," Jaime smiled, picked up his glass and looked at you. "We could even bring our little cousin."

Anna's gaze also fell on you. You shrugged your shoulders, and looked away towards the bowl of grapes to grab a couple. You kept them in your palm.

"Well, I could use a visit to Tuscany. I haven't been there since my uncle forced me to go with him and Jaime to learn about a business that I don't care about," you said, then you put a grape in your mouth and accompanied it with a little of your whiskey.

Your worry blossomed again. Now they were making plans and including you in them. Maybe you would end up caring about whatever was going on there, but if your job had taught you anything, it was to be empirical and rational. You would judge later.

Anna smiled at your response, and then looked at Jaime.

"You see?" she asked. "That's a reason to stay. But not enough."

"Is Korea that bad?" you asked, before Jaime could open his stupid mouth and say something out of place. "I'd love to hear about that. I wasn't as fortunate as Jaime was to enjoy your presence since yesterday."

From the corner of your eye you noticed how Jaime changed his position on the couch, and how he looked down, once again, to drink from his whiskey. A more than clear indication to revive your suspicions. Poor fool. If he were accused of something serious, he wouldn't last five minutes in an interrogation.

Anna's smile, on the other hand, lost some of its shine. But it could simply be because of your question and not because of the real reason for your words. You noticed her less breakable than Jaime, but still, her eyes when she saw him gave her away. Funny as well as worrying.

"It's... different," she said. "Studying there feels like hell where you are constantly elbowing each other with your mates. Nobody is... civilized. There is no unity."

She raised a finger to signal that she hadn't finished and took her glass from her to take a sip. This time she kept it in her hand instead of leaving it on the small table.

"People think they own your life..." she continued. "They think they can mold you to be what they want you to be. There is no such thing as your own path; everyone else puts it there for you."

Anna looked up to see a pair of faces filled with deep dismay. She then laughed and gave a low giggle.

"My apologies, I didn't want to go too deep down the rabbit hole," she said. "It's bad, yes. Modern in many ways, but archaic in everything else. Disgusting sexists, above all."

"I read that women don't want to have children with Korean men," you mentioned. "Big protests and all."

Anna shrugged.

"I don't blame them, no one would want to have children with those prats," she said, and she gave Jaime a quick glance before looking at her glass. "Besides... they're terrible in bed."

You two laughed. Jaime more than you. He wanted to hide something else, surely. Maybe it was something as stupid as him having found it more fun than you. But his eyes were the door to the soul. You knew how to read them better than anyone.

"Small cocks I assume," you said with a mischievous smile, and then drank from your glass with your gaze fixed on Anna.

"Embarrassingly small," she clarified. "On top of that, they don't care about a woman's pleasure."

"A big difference with the Europeans, it should be noted," Jaime intervened. "Don't you think that's a good reason to stay here?"

You frowned and turned to look at Jaime. That was out of line.

Anna looked at Jaime and gave a mocking laugh.

"Not while I've proven it myself, Jaime," she replied, and she picked up another grape to eat.

You'd already had enough of those two, and you were ready to get to the bottom of it by asking the question you didn't want to ask yet.

"Guys," they turned to look at you. "May I know what's going on between you two?"

Jaime and Anna looked at each other. Their faces showed that they were not prepared for that question. But they also looked embarrassed as they realized that perhaps they had given you just enough reasons to ask that question.

"I don't know what you mean, little cousin," Jaime responded with a nervous chuckle. "Wouldn't it be extraordinary to have our lovely cousin around?"

"Indeed," you nodded, stirred the ice in your glass and took a sip. The whiskey was already less than half full. "It's just that your irrepressible enthusiasm catches my attention, cousin. There's nothing to worry about... right?"

You and Jaime maintained eye contact. You didn't blink, seeking to force him to confess voluntarily. But that would never happen with Anna in that room.

"Noah?!" A new voice was heard inside the house. Elena. Looking for you. "Noah, where the hell are you?"

Elena's voice was heard closer and closer, until she found you. Jaime, Anna and you turned to see her. She seemed elated, excited.

"Here you are!" She said, and stood behind you to take your shoulders. "There's a friend of mine I want you to meet, come on!"

You looked up at Elena and then gave a helpful look to Jaime. He absolved himself of responsibility by shrugging his shoulders and waving you away. Convenient for him, to say the least.

"Is it very urgent, darling?" you asked Elena.

"It is!" she responded. "Otherwise I wouldn't be here! Come on, get up!"

Damn, what a damn bad time. You had no choice but to grab your glass and stand up with a sigh. You looked at Anna and Jaime. Cheeky bastards, they were saved for now.

"Sorry to leave you, folks," you said. "My presence is extremely in demand lately."

You looked at Anna and winked. She blew you a kiss with her hand in response. Then you stared at Jaime, not saying a single word as you left with Elena outside.

The person Elena wanted you to meet turned out to be a girl. You combined very well with her; she was very pretty, but also quite shy. That didn't mean anything bad for you, on the contrary it made you more interested in her. Within half an hour you had already exchanged numbers, and within an hour you were sure that you would see her again after that day.

The rest of Elena's friends also generally turned out to be a group of good lads. Some more chaotic than others, of course, but overall you were relieved to know that your cousin had a healthy and pleasant inner circle.

At that moment you were still talking to them, while drinking wine like everyone else, when your aunt approached you and put your hand on her shoulder.

"Oi, dear," she said, and you turned to look at her. "Have you seen Jaime and Anna? It's almost time to cut the cake and I don't see that pair anywhere!"

Fuck, Jaime and Anna. You had forgotten about them completely.

"Uh… no," you looked towards the house. "Not for like an hour."

Your aunt let out a tired breath and shook her head.

"Please go get them darling," she asked, squeezing your hand. "There can be no delays!"

"It will be done immediately, aunt," you nodded. "Just don't despair and keep your husband quiet."

"Go, then," she said, and let go of your hand.

You turned to Elena's group of friends.

"I'll be right back lads," you said, and looked at Elena. "Blame your irresponsible fool of a brother."

After saying goodbye you turned around, and with a sigh you walked straight towards the house.

As expected they were nowhere to be found on the ground floor. But, in the living room where the three of you were, there were still the glasses from which they were drinking. With just a little inspection you could tell that they must have left a short time ago, as the ice inside the glasses was barely melting, the sofas still had slight dents in the seats, and most importantly, you could still perceive Anna's unmistakable perfume in the air.

They had to still be right there inside the house, so you hurried up to the second floor.

As soon as you went up the stairs you had a good range of possibilities to investigate, since it was a level almost as big as the first. Fortunately for you, just to your right was the first and most notable objective.

Jaime's room.

The silence in the house, especially there on the second floor, was absolute. A needle could be heard dropping onto the wooden floor. You weren't going to risk being overheard, so you walked as carefully and slowly as you could to the door of the room. It took about five steps to be in front.

You were going to knock on the door, but that would announce your presence, so you just pressed your ear against the cold varnished wood of the door.

Inside you heard moans. Male moans. And sounds of...

Without thinking twice you opened the door. Inside you found something that you expected, but that you still weren't ready to see.

In front of the lower edge of the bed were those two. Jaime was standing, and Anna was kneeling right in front of him. With his cock in her mouth.

As soon as they noticed your presence Jaime turned around to cover himself and Anna jumped to her feet.

"May I know what the fuck you guys are doing?!" you screeched, frowning. "Have you gone crazy or what?!"

"Noah!" Jaime exclaimed, already turning towards you once he put his cock back in his pants. "We can explain it..."

You walked into the room and slammed the door behind you.

"Oh yes, I'm just excited to hear the reason why you had your cock in your damn cousin's mouth!"

"It was my idea!" Anna intervened, putting herself between you and Jaime. "I'm sorry! We were really horny and... and..."

"Bloody fucking hell," you let out a snort, and put your hands over your face for a moment before looking at Jaime. "It's your sister's damn graduation celebration, mate, wasn't there another time?"

Anna stepped forward and placed a hand on your chest. She was now very close to you, and she was looking into your eyes.

"Again, it was my idea, Noah," she said, her voice lower and more reassuring. "Don't be so hard on Jaime."

"Anna, this is wrong," you said, matching her tone of voice. "I don't even have to explain why."

She was silent for a few seconds, and then looked down to scribble on your chest with her index finger.

"Is it really that bad?" she finally asked, and brought the scribbles up to your neck. You frowned. "I mean... we're not even close cousins, I've seen you guys like four times in my life."

"What the hell are you talking about? You share blood!" you said, somehow not being able to step back and walk away, even though you knew it was all wrong.

A giggle escaped her, and she looked back into your eyes with a raised eyebrow.

"Looks like you forgot that too, darling," she said, her voice now husky and sultry. "You've been staring at me all night..."

You immediately looked away. Your heart began to beat harder. Your clenched fists are a sign of how embarrassed you were for not being able to hide it even for a moment.

"Ah, you thought I wouldn't notice?" Anna asked. "You're terrible at dissembling. Unusual for a detective if you ask me."

"I... I think I should go," you said.

You took a step back to turn around, but Anna grabbed your hand and pulled you back to her. This time she pressed herself against you.

"Already?" she asked, with a tone of false surprise. "But you haven't even heard my proposal!"

Having her tight body pressed against yours short-circuited all your systems. You just wanted to run away, escape from that damn temptation that took hold of you with every second you spent near her in such an intimate environment.

"What fucking proposal, Anna," you said, reluctantly, avoiding putting your hands on her no matter how easy it was. "Jaime, can you put an end to this damn madness, please?"

But Jaime was not even remotely interested in doing so. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning on his hands while he watched Anna's progress with interest. Damn idiot. Every day you were more sure that your aunt drank too much damn brandy during her pregnancy.

"Oi oi, don't be so grumpy, darling," Anna said, with a couple of pats on your chest. "Listen to me well..." she stood on tiptoe and got dangerously close to your lips, but in the end she reached your ear. "You can just forget that I'm your distant cousin and let me suck your cock... or walk out that door and miss the opportunity for the rest of your life."

That had to be a damn joke. The hidden camera must be somewhere, you were sure. How the hell did you end up in a situation like this? If you had told your self from five hours ago he would probably have told you that the joint you had smoked had been way too big and thick.

However, if you were honest with yourself, you were crazy about that damn woman. But that was your heart—and kinda your cock—clouding your thoughts. Your brain, on the other hand, was screaming at you and pulling you by the ears to convince you that it was a bad idea, that it was very wrong. You had to agree with him on that, obviously.

But fuck it, you only live once.

You sighed, and turned around to walk towards the exit. Anna may have thought you would leave, but what you did was lock the door.

"Only if the little pillock is okay with it," you said, turning around, and pointed your chin at Jaime.

He frowned and pointed at himself.

"Yes, you," you nodded. "Give your bloody opinion before I regret it."

"You ask as if you don't know the answer."

You looked at Anna, and rubbed the side of her face with the back of your hand.

"You've got the green light, darling," you said, and lowered the back of your hand to her shoulder, and then gently down her arm. "Make it worth it."

She gave you a sly smile and with a gentle movement she put her hand on your bulge, squeezing it and massaging it a few times while biting her lower lip. At first you felt something strange, perhaps the still lingering knowledge that it was very wrong. But it was quickly overshadowed by your lust.

"Everything I do is worth it," she said, and then she kissed you without even hesitation.

Even after feeling her lips against yours, you couldn't help but put some opposition to your desires to touch her. But as Anna deepened the kiss and continued massaging your cock, your moral ties gradually went to hell. You ended up wrapping your arms around her tight body and clinging to her small waist.

After a few brief seconds Anna separated from your lips, and with her hands on your chest she subtly fell to her knees. Jaime stood next to you, and Anna adjusted herself so she was between the two of you. She then brought a hand to each hard bulge to squeeze them.

"Don't even think about looking me in the eyes, Jaime Egerton," you said, just watching as Anna unbuttoned both of your pants and lowered the zippers. "I want to completely forget that you are in this room."

"Bold of you to think that I want to see your dumb face while I have sex, little cousin," Jaime responded, as Anna now pulled down your pants and boxers, your cocks now free and right in front of her face.

You were about to retort to Jaime, until Anna took you inside her small, pretty, warm mouth. Then your words were replaced by a small moan. You closed your eyes for a moment, to enjoy how she sucked those first centimeters; when you opened them you found her gaze fixed on you, while she reached the middle of your shaft with sensual pumps.

Seconds later she did the same with Jaime. It seemed strange and perhaps uncomfortable to see your cousin's cock so close, especially under those circumstances, but all your attention was drawn by Anna, who despite being in the middle of such a lewd and carnal act, still maintained that elegant air that was natural to her, with slow, graceful and deep movements.

Anna pulled Jaime out of her mouth and moved towards you. She grabbed you by the base and pressed your cock against your abdomen to kiss and lick the entire backside.

"Mmm, it seems that good size comes from genetics," she said with a small moan, and put one of your balls in her mouth to suck on it while she slowly masturbated you, just like she did to Jaime with the other hand. "I wonder how good you would feel deep inside my pussy."

With that she returned you into her mouth, and continued with those deep, sensual pumps until she was halfway down your shaft. She increased the speed, but despite this she kept it to a clean blowjob, devoid of messiness. That didn't mean it didn't feel good, but on the contrary, your fists were clenched as well as your jaw, a clear sign that you were going crazy.

A few glorious minutes passed as she alternated between each cock, sucking each one with dedication and with moans that became increasingly needier, both from her and from the two of you. Then you, already crazy to see more of her, reached behind her back and, finding the zipper of her top, you pulled it down and took it off her. A pair of small, round, firm tits were left free; you took your hand to one of them, and Jaime took the other. You both then kneaded each breast and played with her nipples.

Anna's response was to moan into your cock and then take it out for a moment, to also take Jaime's cock and take both of them into her mouth at the same time, in an act of oral flexibility that left you pleasantly surprised. She used her tongue to lick both shafts, while she pumped her head a little faster. Seconds later she pulled you both out of her mouth, and then she gave you both slow deepthroats separately.

"Fuck, enough," she said, pulling you out of her mouth as she masturbated you. "I need one of you two inside of me, immediately."

Anna stood up, but just when you were going to put your hands on her to finish undressing her, three knocks in a row were heard on the door.

Your soul left your body, and your heart stopped beating for a second.

"Jaime?" your aunt's voice from the other side. You three were paralyzed with fright, with horrified expressions. "Dear, are you there?"

You and Jaime exchanged glances. You could only gesture for him to respond quickly.

"Y-yes mother!" he responded. "I'm here with Noah looking for apartments in London, but we don't know where Anna is."

"Well then go out and look for her!" she exclaimed. "It's time to cut the cake! Hurry up!"

You waited a few long, tense seconds to make sure your aunt had already come down. Only after making sure she wasn’t up there, you started dressing quickly.

"Don't think you'll get rid of me," Anna said, walking toward the door once she was dressed. "We'll continue later. And you'll fuck me so hard I'll have to stay another day because of the pain."

She didn't even let you respond; she blew you both a kiss, opened the door and left. You and Jaime stayed silent for a few seconds.

"Noah..."

You raised your arm and finger to signal him to shut up.

"I don't care and I don't want to know, Jaime, now let's go."

"Yes," he nodded with a sigh, and the two of you left the room shortly after.

The rest of the celebration continued as normal. No one suspected anything about the three of you, and it's not like you left too many clues; even though you felt the tension, you made sure not to give any signs that might raise suspicion. What was true was that you were dying to fuck that damn woman, and this time you didn't bother hiding your eyes, so she knew it very well, and she let you know it with the little mischievous smiles that she gave you from time to time.

Your initial plan wasn’t to stay the night that day, so at the end of the party you had to put on a little theater to achieve your goal.

"Oi, auntie," you said, approaching her. "My car broke down, and I'm afraid I won't be able to fix it until next morning, I was wondering if I could stay tonight."

There was really no need to use that lie; you could just stay and that's it. But you wanted to use what little modesty you had left to have a decent excuse.

"Of course you can, darling!" she told you, patting both of your arms. "You know very well that you are always welcome with us. But you will have to stay with Jaime; Anna is using the guest room."

"Oh there’s no problem, thanks aunt! I'll go upstairs."

You turned around and walked towards the house.

"Just don't make a fuss, you cheeky monkeys!" she said behind your back, and you walked inside with a chuckle.

You went directly to Jaime's room, where he was lying on his bed, looking at his phone with one leg resting on the floor and the other up on the mattress.

"Know?" you said, closing the door behind you. "You're a big lad already, why the hell do you still live here?"

"Because I don't have a wife, because I work with father and because mother won't leave me until I get married," he answered without taking his eyes off the screen.

"Makes sense," you nodded, and walked towards his closet. "Where do you keep the inflatable mattress? I'm sure you had one."

Jaime didn't respond, and when you turned your head to look at him he was pointing under his desk, where the mattress was folded.

"Ah, how thoughtful of you."

"I don't think you'll need it tonight, anyway," he replied, as you picked up the mattress and carried it to the side of the bed.

Sure, Anna. You almost forgot.

"Is she...?" You nodded towards the wall to your left—behind it was the guest room—, as you unfolded the mattress and grabbed the air pump from inside.

"Yes, but we can't go right now. Everyone is still awake."

"I thought Elena was going with her friends tonight."

"And she will, but father must be giving them some boring lecture about life."

You sighed, and grabbed the air pump to connect the nozzle to the mattress and start inflating it.

"We'll wait, then."

Unfortunately that was what you had to do for the next three hours. You two avoided talking about the subject, not wanting to make the atmosphere uncomfortable with moralistic and ethical debates at this point; you would have time for that later, when that damn madness you were about to commit happened.

It was 2 in the morning when you were sure that everyone in the house was already asleep and that Elena had already left. You and Jaime left the room, finding yourself face to face with the now dark second floor. It wasn't necessary to turn on any lights, and you didn't want to do it either to avoid attracting attention. The guest room was right next door, so you only had to walk along the wall until you reached the door. You were the one in charge of opening it, and as soon as you entered, your eyes almost popped out of their sockets at what you saw to your left.

Anna was lying on her back in the center of the bed, one leg over the other while she looked at her phone. She was completely naked, and with her brown hair now down. The only thing she still had on was the diamond choker. But everything else was visible: her long toned legs—with a sexy mole on one of her thighs—, her flat, toned tummy—another mole there, above her navel—, and the pair of pretty tits that you had already groped a few hours ago.

She looked at you and giggled mischievously at your stunned faces as you walked inside and closed the door behind you. She then left her phone on the nightstand and turned to lie face down, to also show you a wonderful small but round, firm and beautifully shaped ass.

"I thought you'd never come, gentlemen," she said, shuffling her feet back and forth. "I was starting to get cold."

"It's time to warm up a little, then," Jaime said, taking off his shirt. You imitated him.

You both stood at the edge of the bed, and Anna knelt up to get closer to the two of you. She went straight towards you to crash her lips against yours, and then the groping on both sides started right away. Her hands each went to your cock and Jaime's, squeezing and massaging each bulge above your pajama pants. In response, one hand of yours went to her ass, to grab that firm, perfect piece of meat, and the other went between her legs, to finger her perfectly shaved and smooth little pussy. Jaime also made his part, with kisses on her long neck and his hands on her waist and her tits.

"You brought condoms, right?" She asked against your lips, and then she pulled both cocks out of your pants, while you rubbed her clit and her folds. "I'm not going to fuck without protection."

You took your wallet out of your pocket and threw it on the bed next to her.

"We don't want an Egerton Egerton in the family, don't worry," you said with a giggle.

She laughed too, and she pulled both of your pants and boxers down to the end of your thighs to free your cocks. You took your hands off her so you could undress quickly, and when you were all completely naked, you continued touching her everywhere.

Anna was now kissing Jaime while she stroked both cocks. You were now able to concentrate entirely on kissing every part of her that you had not had the joy of kissing before, from her neck, her shoulders and finally her tits; you brought one to your mouth to suck and lick while you shoved two fingers inside her tight and already wet pussy. She moaned against Jaime's lips, and to get another moan out of her, you brought your free hand between her buttocks to also rub her butthole with your finger.

You fingered her for a few long seconds, taking the full length of your fingers in and out of her with gradually faster pumps. You also stuck a saliva-soaked finger into her butthole, which to your surprise presented almost no opposition as you pumped it.

She moaned again and again, her tight body writhing slightly with pleasure at the three fingers pumping into two of her holes. But after a few seconds she separated from Jaime's lips with a squeal and put her hand on your wrist.

"Oh, for heaven's fucking sake," she complained. "I need a cock inside me, right now."

"I'll do the honors," you said immediately, before Jaime beat you to it, and you pulled your fingers out of her pussy and out of her ass.

Anna moved away from the two of you and moved towards the center of the bed, settling on her hands and knees with a perfect curvature of her back, making her small, round ass look like the eighth wonder of the world. You climbed onto the bed and positioned yourself behind her, while Jaime did so in front of her.

The first thing any other man desperate for cum would do is put on the condom and dive right in, but that perfect wet pussy was too stupidly tempting, so before you gave her what she demanded, you leaned down and you planted your mouth directly on her slit.

"Oh fuck!" she moaned, tensing with her fingers gripping the sheet. "I thought I told you that..."

The next thing you heard was a choking sound and small gags. Jaime had put his cock in her mouth to shut her up, and from what you could hear, Anna had gladly accepted it, since now only sucking sounds combined with cute moans could be heard.

You then concentrated entirely on eating that deliciously soft pussy, with both hands on her buttocks, squeezing firmly as you kissed and licked between her folds. Anna was absolutely loving it; she pushed her ass against your face, smothering you between her buttocks. In response you moved your tongue up to her butthole, causing even more squirms from her, and just to spice it up a little, you gave her a little spank.

After a few seconds of licking, kissing and feasting on both her pussy and her ass, you finally knelt up and grabbed your wallet to open it, take out a condom, open it and quickly put it on. Then, with your cock ready, you placed a hand on her left buttock and rubbed yourself between her folds a few times before slowly entering her.

Anna let out a high-pitched squeal against Jaime's cock, who had her hair in a ponytail as he began pumping his hips and fucking her mouth faster and faster. You soon joined in the effort, placing both hands on her buttocks before beginning to fuck her pussy.

"Holy shit," you gasped, watching your cock slide in and out of her pussy, which had the hell of a grip. "So fucking tight."

After a few seconds, both you and Jaime put burning coal in your engines and made a sudden gear change. Now you were both fucking her from both sides in a frenzy of thrusting and moaning. On one hand you could hear the gagging sounds thanks to Jaime's cock constantly hitting her throat, and on the other the sound of your pelvis in non-stop collisions against her ass.

A little over a minute passed before Anna latched onto Jaime's thighs and exploded in an intense wave of spasms and screams that made her pull his cock out of her mouth. She was moaning a little too loudly, so Jaime grabbed her hair and shoved two fingers into her mouth until her orgasm dissipated.

"My turn," Jaime said, and you knew he was talking to you.

You reluctantly pulled out from inside Anna's pussy, and swapped places with Jaime. But first he grabbed her by her waist and made her lie on her back. She spread her legs wide for him, and made eye contact with you.

"Are you having fun, handsome?" she asked in a husky, sultry tone of voice, her chin stained with saliva. Jaime, meanwhile, put on a condom.

"I'm the one who should ask you that question," you replied, and put your cock on top of her face to rub it from side to side. "You seem to be in paradise."

"Looks like you're not the only one who's horrible at dissembling, then," she said with a giggle, and in one of those she grabbed your cock to suck on it with the condom still on.

Seconds later Jaime took his cock inside her, and Anna moaned around your cock. He grabbed her thighs and pressed them back, while you put your left hand on her neck, and your right on one of her tits, before you started pumping your hips up and down and fuck her mouth.

Anna became a mess of moans and writhing when Jaime began to fuck her hard, and all that feedback was enjoyed by your cock, which received constant vibrations inside her warm mouth. That made you moan with pleasure, the fingers of your left hand tightly clinging to her neck and your right hand now on her attractive midriff.

Jaime on the other hand was stronger and stronger. Now he had brought Anna's legs together and placed her ankles over his right shoulder. He hugged her thighs, and between gasps he hammered her pussy as fast as he could.

You were also going at full speed, your cock entering and leaving her mouth at a pace that could perfectly be harmful to her, but she seemed to love how your cock reached her throat and bulged it, because she even used her tongue on the back of your shaft, and spit all the accumulated saliva upwards to make it a sloppy mess.

That was feeling way too good, and your orgasm was right around the corner, so you waited a few seconds before pulling out of her mouth, taking off the condom, and fucking her mouth again until you exploded inside her throat.

The timing was perfect, because just as you shot your huge, hot load into her mouth, Jaime made her reach a second orgasm in which she couldn't even moan, only wriggle like a rag doll and tense her muscles, choking on your cock and your cum.

Apparently she was squeezing like hell, because Jaime also came a few seconds later, fucking her through her orgasm. He then, a moment later, pulled his cock out of her and removed the cum-filled condom to throw it on the floor. You also left her mouth.

"Oh god… god!" she moaned after taking a deep breath. "Please don't stop, take my ass!"

"You're lucky I have a condom left, darling," you told her, caressing the side of her face with the back of your hand.

"Me too," Jaime mentioned, still panting. "Have you ever had two cocks inside you at the same time?"

"I haven't had the pleasure, dear," she replied, looking at him. "But I would love for you two to please me."

Jaime grabbed his pants and took out one last condom, which he put on in a matter of seconds. Then he went and lay down next to her.

"Come and ride me then, princess," he said. "Noah, you take her from behind. I know you love that view."

"I told you not to fucking talk to me, Jaime," you reiterated with a sigh, reaching into your wallet to pull out another condom.

Anna mounted Jaime after putting extra effort on her legs, which were already shaking. She adjusted her thighs on either side of his waist, while you put on the condom and positioned yourself over Jaime's legs and directly behind her.

"Don't you need lube for these things?" you asked, and spit between her buttocks to spread the saliva on the outside and inside of her butthole.

"Saliva will do it," she said, lifting her hips so that Jaime held his cock straight and she could impale herself on it. "Mmmgh!" she moaned, again with a cock deep in her pussy, then she looked at you over her shoulder. "You just fucking do it, I love doing it raw."

You laughed and pressed the tip of your cock against her butthole, while Jaime pumped his hips up and down in and out of her pussy.

"You'd think Anna Egerton was an elegant and refined damsel even in bed," you said, pressing forward to take your first few inches into her ass.

Anna threw her neck back and let out a painstakingly suppressed scream, followed by a grunt of pleasure, nails digging into Jaime's chest as you slowly sank to the bottom of her butthole and he fucked her patiently, knowing that you hadn't started yet.

A few seconds later, when you were completely inside her and you gave her a few pumps to get her used to it, the real debauchery began, dirty and disastrous.

You and Jaime fucked her mercilessly, hard and fast, him destroying her pussy and you destroying her ass. Jaime had one of her tits in her mouth, and both of his arms wrapped around her torso to hold her tightly. You, for your part, had her long, beautiful, shiny brown hair in a messy ponytail, with your free hand placed on one of her buttocks.

After a few long seconds you didn't even care about regulating her moans, no matter how loud they were, you were so absorbed in pleasure that the possible consequences of making too much of a fuss and being discovered did not cross your mind. In a way you could be somewhat calm, since that room was quite far from the master bedroom, but still, you were playing with fire.

But you knew perfectly well that you were playing with fire, and you were loving getting burned with it. Anna's body was a damn delight, a complete confection baked by fucking Aphrodite herself. It was simply hot in every possible part, but without a doubt your favorite part was that beautiful ass, which at that moment you were jiggling with every thrust.

"Mmmgh fuck fuck fuck yes!" she moaned, her neck going back from the force of your pull. "Hard, fast! Destroy me like a fucking filthy whore!"

That was certainly not the expected behavior of a refined damsel with duchess wood. Funny, to say the least.

You gave her another spank, and then another harder one on the same buttock. She loved that, as she screamed in pleasure and looked at you with lust-filled eyes every time your hand hit her skin. You soon brought her to a third orgasm, but that didn't stop you.

"Come here," you ordered, and you climbed out of her ass to go and stand on the side of the bed.

They both looked at you and were ready to get up, but Jaime had to carry Anna out of bed, because her legs were so shaky that it would be impossible for her to stand up.

Jaime released her in front of you, and you wrapped your arms around her body to pick her up and hold her by her thighs. She immediately rested her back on Jaime's chest, so her weight didn't fall solely on you. Her arms went behind, holding on to Jaime's head with her eyes on you, while you entered her pussy and Jaime entered her ass.

A new segment of using Anna as a cute, submissive sex doll began, only this time you had the privilege of looking straight into her eyes while you fucked her tight ass at full gear.

Her legs just wouldn't stop shaking, and she wouldn't stop writhing between desperate moans, tears in her eyes. She let her head fall back onto Jaime's shoulder, allowing herself to be manipulated by you like a rag doll while she pulled him on his hair. Then she brought a hand to her mouth, and squeezed her eyes shut as a fourth orgasm hit her.

Anna instinctively bit the side of her hand, muffling loud screams and moans against it. She did it perhaps too hard, because when she let go of her hand, she left all of her teeth marked in an intense red on her own skin, one of the marks even letting out a droplet of blood.

She then simply collapsed and became heavier, so that you and Jaime had to double your efforts to hold her up in the air. She was still conscious, as her eyes were open and she was biting her lip, but she wasn't blinking, and she wasn't moving either, she was just so overwhelmed with pleasure that her brain didn't react.

Fortunately for her you didn't take long to give the last few thrusts to her pussy before you exploded, in what had been one of the most electrifying and mindblowing orgasms you had ever experienced. Jaime followed closely behind you, also cumming between slow pumps in and out of her.

You filled Anna's tits with kisses and hickeys, while Jaime kissed her neck and the side of her face, treating her like the princess she was. After a few seconds you both came out of her, while her body was still shaking as if she were being given mini electric shocks.

"Maybe..." she said in a small voice. "Maybe I will end up staying here in the UK."

Then, only then, you looked Jaime in the eyes. Curiously you met his worried gaze, a reflection of your own. You didn't say anything, but you knew that that damn woman would have a noose around your neck for a long time.

You were screwed.

---------------------------------

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niningtori · 1 month

Text

mad about you | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you, delusions of kang taehyun x you

summary: beomgyu is not only a spoiled, rich asshole whose whole life has been served to him on a silver platter, but he's also your student council vice president. things finally come to a head on your final trip as college students, but not in the way you would expect. or, beomgyu catches you, the student council president, smoking weed and tries to blackmail you for it

genre: romance, angst (only a tiny bit...? shocking i know), fluff (kinda...? shocking i know), SMUT (MDNI!!!), sub!idol, beomgyu enemies to lovers

warnings: bad writing, not proofread at all, smut (MDNI!!!), sub!gyu LMAOOOO, marijuana, dirty talk, praise, handjobs, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 7.1k

notes: please... this took MONTHS for me to write i fear i am the worst request taker on moablr. this was really difficult for me to complete but alas... it is done. if you hate it, my fault! just please don't bully me i've got enough shit going on in my life rn 💀 i hate it too but that's okay!

being a straight-a student is hard. being the student government president? even harder. being both? hell on earth. but now, in your senior year of college, you’ve finally managed to get it down to a science. things run relatively smoothly, which is due in no small part to the blood, sweat, and tears you’ve put in to make the student body happy, never mind the lengths you've gone to for the faculty. you can confidently say you can cope with nearly every trial and tribulation that comes your way with a smile on your face. well, except for one recurring disaster: beomgyu.

at first, he was nothing more to you than a pest buzzing around for no real purpose other than to mildly annoy you. it was strange because he seemed normal at first, but then he would pick on your looks, every time you made a mistake in class, and even how you happened to wear your hair that day. this was annoying and, well, hurtful. still, it was of no real consequence, so you were able to ignore him when that was the case, but now you know better than to underestimate just how disastrous beomgyu’s presence can be. as the student government vice president, he should be your first and most trusted ally, but he’s nothing short of, for lack of a better term, a major asshole deadset on making your life even more difficult than it already is for reasons unknown to you.

you think it may be because you would have probably beaten him for the actual president’s chair, which led him to run for vice president, instead. you don’t know why he minds this, though, because he couldn’t seem to care less about the council, not to mention school in general. it’s not that he gets bad grades, because he doesn’t. in fact, when he gets called on in class, he always gets the answer right even when he clearly wasn’t paying any attention. still, you work twice as hard as anyone else and yet your grades are only rivaled by his own. even taehyun, your (probably unrequited) crush, can’t help but be beaten by beomgyu as if the hand of god itself smacks down on everyone else every time you all take a test.

getting good grades should be an admirable thing, right? it helps with potential internships and jobs and all that, but the thing is: beomgyu doesn't need any of it. even if he fails all of his classes, he's set for life as the son of a formidable CEO of a company whose profits are more than you could ever dream of attaining. there is absolutely no doubt that beomgyu will succeed him, and there is even less doubt that he'll undeniably be very, very good at it. what’s worse is that even if he failed to meet expectations, he’d still get the position, anyway.

that, in comparison with your family’s laughable financial circumstances, would be enough to make you secretly hate the boy just on principle; but jealousy is ugly, no doubt, so you’ve kept your feelings to yourself. you would have fallen into a pit of self-loathing and guilt had beomgyu actually been kind, and you may have even grown to like him if that were the case, but no. beomgyu is not kind. he’s a total prick. you see it in his smug little smile when the test papers get handed back and he annihilates everyone — other than you — in class, especially taehyun. you see it in the smirks he sends you when you catch him making out with whoever his new girlfriend of the week happens to be, and in the way he openly mocks you by calling you a prude in front of the entire student population. and most importantly, you see it in the way he watches you struggle to stay afloat while he cruises on by without a care in the world.

honestly? beomgyu knows better than to bully the girl he has a crush on just because he wants her attention, but who told you to make it so damn hard on him? it’s not like he didn’t consider being nice at first, but your aloofness to his charms only caused him to believe that he was nearly invisible to you, and he simply wouldn't stand for that. naturally, the best course of action was to get you to hate him — at least that means you’re actually paying attention to him. that’s what he tells himself as he’s sticking one of his spindly legs out as you walk past him, effectively tripping you in the process and making the entire class erupt into laughter. your nostrils flare as your head whips up to meet his condescending gaze. once again, your eyes are completely on him. check and mate.

that's what it feels like, at least, until you’re hurriedly pulled up by a concerned taehyun and he’s frantically asking if you’re alright while fixing up your (now) fucked up hair. your eyes, which were just brimming with anger and contempt for him, are now overflowing with lovesickness and infatuation for the other boy. well, never mind about the whole “checkmate” thing, it’s like beomgyu doesn’t even exist in the same world as you anymore.

“you need to relax,” taehyun says, gently closing the notebook in front of you and sliding over a few of your favorite snacks.

“th-thank you, tyun,” you reply, shyly. he grins when he sees he’s succeeded in distracting you.

“no problem, we wouldn’t want that pretty little head of yours to break from thinking too much, now would we?” he teases. you feel heat rushing to your cheeks at his words. he doesn’t really mean them, he never does, but that doesn’t stop your heart from racing when he says things like this to you.

having a crush on taehyun is only natural. that’s what you tell yourself, but the way you have a shrine dedicated to notes he’s passed you and polaroids you’ve taken together sitting prettily in your room is most definitely unnatural. he doesn’t need to know about that, though.

“my head’s not going to break,” you huff with a playful roll of your eyes. “i just need to finish outlining the major stops on the trip and i’ll be done, i promise.”

it’s true that all you have to do is outline where you’re going to stop on the council’s senior trip, which doesn’t sound like a big deal in theory, but in actuality, you have to clear each stop with the faculty and make sure you stay within the budget in spite of beomgyu’s insufferable attempts to exceed it. he’s made light of the finances and talked up special events to the rest of the council members, even taehyun. you tried to snuff out these suggestions with realistic arguments about how expensive it will be, but his response was to call you a killjoy. simple and straightforward, but effective, nonetheless. everyone, even taehyun, was so excited to try everything he hyped up, so how could you say no when taehyun turned to you, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and practically begged you to relent? you, unfortunately, didn’t and don’t have the heart to deny him, so you caved, and now you’re stuck trying to figure it all out.

“you promise?” taehyun asks, snapping you out of your spiral, with his cute cat-like fangs showing ever so slightly.

“i promise,” you nod and he cheers triumphantly. again, you can’t help but feel your cheeks warm, and you’d bask in the moment if your gaze didn’t happen to catch beomgyu’s scrutinizing one at this very moment. he looks at you like he’s watching a monkey putting on a show, and your happiness is instantly replaced with a sense of embarrassment. you’ve never told a single soul about your feelings for taehyun, but eerily enough, beomgyu seems to know something the rest of the world does not. he seems well aware of your deepest secret. why he doesn’t just expose you in order to humiliate you, you have no idea, but you do know you don't like how much he knows.

you really, really shouldn’t be doing this. and certainly not here, of all places, but you just can’t help it. smoking weed is terrible for you, and you of all people should know, seeing as how you led a presentation on its ill effects in front of the entire student body in your freshman year. but it’s hard to truly care when you’re wound so tightly you feel like you’re about to burst.

beomgyu is getting his way again, as always, and you’re worried about having to make yet another last minute change to your trip’s itinerary for tomorrow because he called today’s stop boring, which led to the rest of the council silently agreeing. so here you sit on the top of the hotel building as the rest of the group are out sightseeing, taking a long, lung-scorching drag from the blunt in between your fingers.

“didn’t take you for the smoking type, madame president,” a voice cuts in from out of nowhere. beomgyu. fuck.

you try to keep your cool, but you end up choking on the smoke as you hurriedly go to flick the blunt away, but beomgyu’s hand grabs your wrist before you can quite make it there. his touch feels like a brand searing itself into your skin, but you’re too overstimulated to notice.

“i didn’t tell you you had to stop,” he muses condescendingly as you rip your wrist away from his grasp. he winces. you don't catch it. instead, you can’t help but roll your eyes at the presumption that he has the power to tell you to do anything.

“i’m not one of your little minions,” you snap in spite of yourself. “quit acting like you can boss me around.”

“is that so?” he questions, not without an air of smugness. alarm bells blare in your ears as you try to sniff out where his confidence is coming from. sure, he caught you smoking, but it’s your word against his. that’s right, there’s no need to be scared. if he says anything at all, you can just feign innocence and say you were the one who caught him sneaking out to smoke.

“yep,” you answer with a grin at your new plan, popping the “p” with the same obnoxiousness he usually terrorizes you with. you’re no match for him in terms of popularity, but you will never lose to him when it comes to credibility.

“you’re not afraid that i’ll snitch on you? you’re not scared of me telling everyone how little-miss-perfect spends her alone time?”

“you can try,” you reply with a shrug. he’s silent for a few moments, as if he’s in deep thought.

“you know what? you’re right,” he concedes with a sigh, and shockingly so. the beomgyu you know and loathe would never give up that easily. “you don’t have to listen to what i say. nobody would believe me over you, right?”

you eye him suspiciously before giving a slight nod.

“and most times, you would be absolutely right. like, just imagine if i told them you faked being sick and flaking on everyone else just so you could get high. nobody would believe me. i wouldn’t even believe me,” he continues. you have no idea why he’s going on and on about this, but you don’t like it.

“what the hell are you playing at?” you ask through clenched teeth.

“i mean, i’m just saying that nobody would believe me. not unless i showed them something like, i don’t know, this?” he says with a grin, holding up his phone and showing you an alarmingly high resolution photo of you taking a hit of your blunt. your eyes widen in sheer horror and you immediately jump to try to retrieve his phone from his hands, but beomgyu is quicker. he tauntingly holds it up in the air with one arm and stops you from coming any closer with the other. you try to jump to reach it, but you’re no match for his stature and long limbs. damn him for being so fucking tall.

“delete it!” you shriek, but all he does is click his tongue and shake his head like the insufferable asshole he is.

“oh, sure,” he says nonchalantly. your eyes widen even further as he lowers his phone and fiddles with the screen, still keeping you at arm’s length so you’re helpless to grab it for yourself.

“r-really?” you ask incredulously, sincerely taken aback by his compliance. stupid, stupid you. he tuts in response.

“you don’t really think i’ll make it that easy, do you?”

“fine,” you relent, jaw tense and eyebrows furrowed in an almost comically exaggerated way. “what the hell do you want from me?”

“nothing much, just lemme smoke with you,” he answers with a lopsided grin, showcasing a dimple in his cheek you had never noticed until now.

“w-what?” you ask dazedly.

“god, you’re slow,” he tells you with a roll of his eyes. “smoke with me and i’ll delete the picture. i won’t even mention it again.”

“are you being serious?” you whisper.

“dead serious,” he smirks.

“... fine,” you find yourself relenting, yet again. you don’t know if you necessarily trust him to actually follow through with his words, but what choice do you have? why he wants to smoke with you, you have no idea, but if it gets him to keep his mouth shut, then you really can’t ask for much more than that.

you sigh and take a seat, walking over near the entrance of the rooftop and propping yourself up against the concrete wall behind you. surprisingly, he stays planted in the same spot as if he didn’t hear you. you pat the ground next to you impatiently in light of his hesitation. he snaps out of his daze as he sits next to you so tentatively it’s like you’re a stray cat he’s afraid to scare off. well, good. it’s best for him not to get too comfortable around you. you hate the guy, after all.

you take another deep inhale and he watches you with a gaze that can only be described as lovesick, but you’re too preoccupied to pick up on it. when you exhale, you find yourself starting to pass the blunt over to beomgyu before thinking better of it.

“wait,” you say, pulling your hand back before he can grip the blunt.

“what?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“am i gonna catch something from you if we share this?”

“oh, fuck you,” he grunts, effectively snatching the blunt back and putting it to his lips.

“it’s a real question! i’ve seen the girls you mess around with, and i’m not trying to catch anything from you!”

“i’m careful,” he argues with a roll of his eyes. “a lot more careful than you think.” you pout at his reaction, but for some reason, you believe his words.

“if i catch anything, it's on you,” you reply, hackles still raised. shockingly, he doesn't press the matter any more than that.

“... so,” he says after exhaling a deep drag.

“so what?” you ask.

“so why are you out here smoking instead of going out with everyone else?”

“do you seriously think you have the right to ask me that?” you scoff. there’s no way in hell beomgyu is trying to get you to be vulnerable right now.

on beomgyu’s end, he can’t help but feel slighted, even though your reaction is definitely his fault on account of how he essentially antagonizes you at every given opportunity.

“i’m just saying that it’s weird how you’re here instead of, you know, actually enjoying the trip.”

“oh, please. as if there was gonna be any possible way for me to have fun on this fucking thing,” you bitterly reply.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks without any malice, but with genuine curiosity.

truly, honestly, sincerely, you do not know why you say your next words. maybe it’s because you’re high, or maybe it’s because you need to tell someone — anyone — how you really feel, for once. all you really know is: you can’t stop yourself.

“i mean, how could i possibly enjoy myself when i’m left to figure everything out on my own? everyone only cares about having fun with no actual idea how we’ll do it while realistically staying within the budget and our timeline, and my vice president is deadweight, so it’s not like he’ll help,” you complain, taking a jab at beomgyu in light of your waning self control. you’re prepared to verbally spar with him after that last comment, but he surprises you.

“is that how you really feel?” he asks.

“yeah, it is,” you tell him. “that’s how i always feel,” you can’t help but add, more to yourself and less to him, but he hears you, anyway.

“i’m sorry.” you whip your head around to make sure you’re not having some sort of auditory hallucination. did beomgyu just apologize to you? it can’t be. there’s no earthly way.

“i’m sorry. i really am,” he repeats. your whole world feels like it’s thrown off of its axis when you see how somber and genuinely apologetic he looks.

“it’s… it’s fine,” is all you can really muster up the words to say.

“no, it’s not. i’ll help you as much as i can, i swear,” he earnestly insists. you nod in bewilderment at his earnestness — feeling too awkward to do much else.

things are quiet for the next few minutes while you two are passing the blunt back and forth. beomgyu can feel the high finally hitting him in full force, and it takes every brain cell within his clouded mind (as well as every ounce of his courage) to finally get out his next sentence.

“why him?” he mumbles so lowly, you don’t quite catch his words.

“what?” you lazily ask.

“why taehyun?” once again, you find yourself choking on the smoke. god, you’ve really got to get a grip and stop letting beomgyu surprise you — your lungs would thank you for it.

“w-what do you mean?” well, you always knew that beomgyu knows about your feelings for taehyun, but hearing him directly ask about them is enough to throw you off.

“i mean, why do you like him?” he asks, devoid of all the confidence he usually oozes.

“what’s not to like?” you say offhandedly. if you cared enough to pay attention to his reaction, you’d see how he withers at your words. even more so when you continue.

“he’s really, really funny. plus, he’s handsome. not to mention smart and —”

“so what? i’m all of those things,” beomgyu interrupts, irritation bitterly lacing every edge of his words. “and if you call him smart, anybody can be.” oh hell no. you’re so indignant at him calling taehyun stupid, you don’t even catch beomgyu’s childlike envy towards him, let alone why he feels it.

“just because his grades don’t compare to yours, doesn’t mean he’s stupid,” you argue.

“then what does it mean?” he asks with a roll of his eyes at your obvious bias for the other boy.

“it… it just means that he’s —”

“a real genius. yeah, i’m sure you think so,” he snarks.

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” you snap, despite your better judgment to just let it roll off of your back. if he were talking about you, you may very well have done so, but this is taehyun he’s talking about. your taehyun.

“it means he can’t compare to me,” he says, more as means to convince himself rather than convince you, but you’re so angry, you don’t even notice.

“and what makes you think you’re so goddamn special?” you ask, sarcasm absolutely dripping out of your voice.

“i’m funnier, hotter, smarter, richer. how can he compare to me?” he snorts. if someone were to ask you why you feel so defensive at this moment, you would be unable to say why, but if you had to guess, you’d say it’s because taehyun is so good it’s impossible to see him any other way. your frustration builds up, hotter and hotter in your chest until you’re on the brink of exploding.

“you say that, but he will always be something you’re not,” you spit.

“and what, pray tell, might that be?” he cockily challenges.

“nice,” you say with conviction, and it may be cheesy, but you mean it. “he is really, really fucking nice and considerate. that’s why i like him.” well, that one went straight to his gut.

“i can be nice!” he exclaims. “i tried to be nice, but you just didn’t care! it was like i was invisible to you!” all you can do is stare, but he’s not finished. “you act like you’re some fucking angel, but i saw the way you looked at me like i’m some stupid, rich asshole who isn’t worth a damn.”

finally, you realize that something is wrong.

“beomgyu, why do you even care about what i think about you?” he doesn’t give a fuck about what you have to say in any other context, today’s example being only the latest in the litany of times where he’s shown you that exact sentiment.

at this, he’s silent, which you truly did not anticipate in lieu of his tirade mere moments ago. you take a good look at the boy, and you finally register that the tips of his ears are a bright red under the fluorescence of the lone light shining next to the doorway.

“i just… i always care about what you think,” he mumbles, face growing redder and redder under your scrutinizing stare as he breaks eye contact with you.

“you could’ve fooled me,” you snort. “you’re always undermining everything i say and do. it’s almost like you’re doing it on… purpose…” you trail off, puzzle pieces finally fitting together in a way you would never suspect.

“beomgyu?” you ask.

“mm?” he murmurs, still refusing to make eye contact.

“do you… do you like me?” and the question sounds so silly you can’t believe you even asked it. this guy fucking hates you, you’re sure of it, but you grow less and less sure of this sentiment with every moment he hesitates to answer.

“... yeah. yeah, i do. but so what? you don’t even care,” he mopes, and just like that, everything makes sense. his teasing, his contrarian nature, and his obnoxiousness are just part of his ruse. he’s just like a child begging for attention by acting out, but to what end? just so you’ll pay attention to him? well, he was on the money when he said you didn’t like him even when he tried to be kind, so maybe, in his own sick little way, he was right.

but that doesn’t mean you don't feel completely blindsided by this revelation.

“what the hell?” is all you can manage to say.

“shut up!” he demands with no real heat to it, just embarrassment.

“i… i can’t believe your solution was to be an asshole,” you say incredulously. “if you had just been nice, or even just normal, i would have warmed up to you. i know i was being childish, but goddamn, you’re worse.”

if he was blushing before, and he was, he’s absolutely blood red now.

“i-it’s your fault for being so judgmental!” he sputters, but even you know he’s just grasping at straws. it all makes the worst kind of sense to you now, and you’re very much shocked at how oblivious you were mere moments ago.

“i can't believe this,” you whisper, bringing your hands up to your temples in an effort to straighten everything out in your muddled head. “you hate me.”

“you’re so dramatic,” he huffs with a roll of his eyes, which would convincingly come across as disdainful, if only his words weren’t so shaky and unsure.

you take a good look at him now, and he can feel it. he’s a very handsome guy, and he knows it, but he can’t help but feel vulnerable. he clears his throat and straightens up his posture when he thinks that you may be comparing him to taehyun... you are not.

none of his actions escape you, which is a far cry from what usually happens, but now that you've discovered his true feelings, it’s almost impossible not to catch his tells; you even wonder how you missed them. his awkward handling of the situation is endearing, in a way. you like watching him squirm, which you realize must be the way he felt about you all those times he teased you. it just makes you wanna push him more.

you’re not exactly known for your impulsivity. in fact, you’re known for the exact opposite. you take things slowly, steadily. you plan every minute detail in consideration of every possible outcome, but as for right now? right now, as you sit and watch beomgyu pout, you just want to let go and do what you really want, and what you really want is to watch him break.

you grab his face with your hands and turn it towards you, and he scowls for just a moment before blinking his big, reddened eyes in curiosity at your unreadable gaze.

“w-what are you doing?” he asks, too exhilarated by your touch to think about batting you away.

this is a bad idea — a horrible one, even — but that does nothing to deter you. how can it when his skin on your palms makes it feel like there's pure electricity thrumming through your bones? fuck it, might as well.

you don’t realize it yourself, but you look incredibly focused as you pull him in, his lips meeting yours. you’d think with the shock he must feel that he’d be taken aback for a second, but beomgyu, as always, does not abide by your rules. he immediately grabs your face and presses his lips even harder against yours. you’re surprised at how much heat is behind it — how much frustration.

it’s incredibly interesting to watch his reactions as you kiss him, which would be weird, but he’s far too engrossed in this newfound pleasure to notice your stare. his eyes are shut, but they tremble with every passing second, making his long eyelashes quiver. you never noticed how long they are before now. you chalk up the swiping of your tongue against his chapped lips to sheerly wanting to study his reaction, and oh man, it does not disappoint. he whines against your mouth, eyebrows furrowed like he’s pleading for something. you want to find out what that something is. cruelly, you take his bottom lip between your teeth and lightly bite. he whines even louder, his eyes fluttering open, and he pulls away and says his next words in a tinny voice.

“c-can i touch you?” he pants, forehead pressed against yours, lips cherry red.

“no,” you say with a smile against his mouth. he would whine again if he could, but he can’t quite do it at the moment, not when your hands have moved from his cheeks in order to explore the rest of him. you curiously run your fingers through his long, silky hair, and he can’t help but moan when you experimentally tug at it. it’s breathy and light, and you’re intrigued, to say the very least.

you don’t have the most experience in the world when it comes to the, uh, matters between men and women, but you are a fast learner by nature, so it takes no time at all to figure out where he likes to be touched. his lips, obviously, and his hair. his ears, so flushed and pink and cute, must be particularly sensitive, and you test this hypothesis by dragging your teeth along his earlobe. he lets out a loud, broken moan when you do, and anyone else in the world would have been embarrassed by making such a noise, but not beomgyu. he’s so pretty and pliable underneath your touch, which feels so tantalizing that all shame escapes him.

“do you like that, beomie?” you whisper teasingly, employing a nickname you’ve heard from a few of his ex-flings, and another strangled cry leaves his pouty lips when he feels your breath touch his ear.

“mhmm, i like it! like it so much, princess,” he babbles, eyes screwed shut as you trail your lips from his ear to his unblemished neck.

“princess?” you can’t help but question. “where’d that come from?”

“think about calling you that all the time,” he moans as you suck on a previously unmarred patch of skin on his neck. “think about you all the time.”

“and what do you think, beomie?” you whisper encouragingly, as if he’s a stupid boy just on the precipice of understanding a laughably simple concept.

“th-think about how much i wanna fuck you,” he admits. “h-how much i want to fill you up, make you m-mine.” honest to god, your panties were already feeling a little sticky just from teasing him alone, but his words make your core heat up tenfold. you shift your legs while trying to make yourself more comfortable, but you fail miserably.

“you’re delusional,” you snort, as you pull away from him, but his lips try to chase yours before you lightly push him away.

“i’m not! i-i jus’ wanna make you feel good,” he slurs, and oh god, you simply can’t be saved.

“well, wanna make your delusions reality?” you can’t help but ask before you can think better of it, but when you see how his eyes light up in hope and pure, primal lust, you realize you don’t regret it.

the walk to his hotel room is silent, so unbearably silent that you can’t help but second-guess yourself. are you really gonna do this with beomgyu of all people? but it’s been so long since you’ve let go, who will it hurt just to have fun for once? maybe you, probably you, but who cares? it can't be any worse than it is now. besides, you're graduating soon. if things go as badly as you’re pretty sure they will, you’ll never have to see beomgyu again after the fact. plus, things really can’t seem to get any more embarrassing than the humiliation ritual you put yourself through every day that you spend pining after taehyun.

and so, you enter his hotel room, which is easily double the size of yours (sans a roommate, no less) with a look of determination. beomgyu completely misses it, though, as he shuts the door behind you and immediately tugs you towards his bed, quick to rekindle the atmosphere you two had on the rooftop. surprisingly, it’s not hard to do so when he’s back to kissing you so desperately it’s like you’re his lifeline.

he impatiently swipes his tongue across your lips, mirroring what you did earlier, silently asking for entry. you oblige. he groans at the feeling of your warm tongue brushing against his own, savoring the way you taste, which yes, does have notes of weed, but there’s something sweet in there, too. something he’s only ever fantasized about with his hand down his pants.

one of your hands is currently tangled in his hair, just the way he likes it, while the other one exploratorily finds its way down his lithe body. you’ve never done what you do next before, but he seems so incredibly sensitive, it feels like a matter of course to put your hand up his shirt and tweak one of his hardened nipples. he lets out a strangled cry, which only makes you certain that you’ve done the right thing.

“is it good, beomie? is it everything you wanted it to be?” you tease. he nods like an idiot.

“y-yes, even better,” he moans. “feels s-so good.”

in the dim lighting of his hotel room, you can see that he means it as the tent in his pants gets harder and harder to ignore. the poor thing is so wound up by your caresses that he may just cum untouched, anyway, but what fun would that be? so, before you can think too much about it, you palm him through his jeans.

“ah!” he cries, eyebrows furrowed. you palm him again, rougher this time, and just like clockwork, he cries even louder.

“want me to keep going?” you ask, studying and soaking up every reaction of his. all he can do is nod.

he unzips his pants and he’s all too willing to help you slide them off of him, tossing them on the floor before hurriedly grabbing one of your hands to meet his barely clothed bulge. it’s big, because it’s beomgyu and of fucking course it is. as if he needed another reason to be conceited.

it doesn’t seem like he’s very conceited, though, as he moans like a whore at you hooking your fingers under his waistband and tugging his boxers off of him. his cock is very obviously leaking, and it’s as bright red as his ears were earlier, completely flushed with beads of precum drooling off of it. there are angry veins running up the sides of it, which sounds gross, in theory, but you can’t help but feel like they make it even prettier. you gulp when you imagine how they’ll feel when they’re dragging in and out of your pussy.

“don’t stare!” he says, breaking you out of your reverie. honestly? he knows it’s pretty, just like every other part of him, but he feels incredibly scrutinized under your gaze. you don’t listen, still very much staring as you take your thumb and experimentally swipe it over his thick, reddened tip. then again. then again.

“s-stop teasing me, please,” he whimpers, but you’re so enamored with his reactions you can’t help yourself. you spit on your hand and grab the base of his cock, which is no small feat considering how thick it is, and you give it a harsh tug. he bites his bottom lip to try to stifle his moans as you start to jerk him off, applying pressure exactly where he needs it most, but he quickly gives up on being quiet when you bend over and lick his tip. he tastes salty, but not unbearably so, and in a way, he’s almost sweet. that could just be your imagination, though.

beomgyu is no longer trying to bite back his moans, but he's stuck in another dilemma: he can't seem to unscrew his eyes for long enough to fully appreciate the sight before him. one of your hands is gripping the muscle of his thigh as leverage while the other aids in squeezing and pulling the parts of him you can’t quite fit in your mouth. you’re not looking at him, which would normally be disappointing, but it’s impossible to be anything less than satisfied when you’re hollowing on your cheeks to suck on him even harder. you take your hand from his dick and ghost your fingers over his balls, and he has to push you off of him so he doesn’t blow his load right then and there.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, wiping some spit and precum off of your lips. he’s enchanted by the way your lips are swollen from sucking on him, so much so that he almost forgets to answer.

“‘m gonna c-cum,” he says shyly.

“and?”

“i don’t want to yet. i wanna make you feel good, too,” he argues petulantly.

“oh? is that what you do in your dreams? you make me feel good? i’m surprised, i figured you’d like me to do all the work and —”

“shut up!” he hisses, and you can’t help but laugh.

“let me eat you out,” he offers, trying to distract you from his evident embarrassment. it’s tempting, very tempting, indeed, but you’re so hot and bothered that you kind of just want to get to the main event. especially since you just know it’ll feel good to finally have him inside of you. it’s been so long since you’ve been with somebody, after all.

“no, thanks. do you have a condom?” you ask, ignoring his suggestion, and he’d be humiliated if only your question wasn’t so damn exciting.

“n-no…” he stammers. your face falls for a second before he rushes to get out his next words. “b-but i can pull out!”

“sorry, this was fun and all, but i’m not letting you fuck me without protection.”

“please?” he begs. “i’m clean, i swear! i told you i’m more careful than you think. i really don’t sleep around that much, honestly,” he admits.

“what?” you ask, genuinely bewildered before calling his bluff. “bullshit. i see you with a new girl all the fucking time. quit lying.”

“i’m not! i promise — i promise — i don’t sleep around a lot. i only act like i do ‘cause of you!”

“because of me?” and it actually makes sense when you think about it. he acts out, bullies you, and pretends he’s involved with a lot more girls than he actually is just to try to get you to look his way. oh man, what are you gonna do with him?

“you’re so pathetic,” you sneer before hiking up your skirt and mounting him.

“w-what are you —”

“shut up before i change my mind,” you spit. and just like magic, his mouth is snapped shut.

you start by rubbing your clothed pussy against his bare cock. your slick has already ruined the fabric beyond salvation, so you don’t really mind ruining it some more. beomgyu is absolutely in awe at your actions, rutting against you feverishly. he’s greedy, if nothing else, so he impatiently moves your soaked panties to the side and tries to seek relief in your warm hole. you let him grab your hips as he tries to ease himself into you, but he’s stunned at the resistance he’s met with as he tries to push himself in.

“s-so tight,” he groans as his fat cock breaches the tight rim of your pussy. the muscles contract as they stretch to accommodate his widened tip.

you were right about how good you anticipated the feeling of his veins scraping against your insides would be, and you revel in it as you sink down inch by scorching inch. beomgyu, on his end, looks absolutely devastated as you slowly take him in. his mouth is twisted open in a silent scream, and his eyes are watery, tears threatening to spill over at any moment. when your ass finally meets his hips, you can feel his length pulsating all the way up to your cervix. it’s a snug fit, too, and it takes everything in him not to hump you like a fucking dog.

slowly, you raise yourself up again, almost completely off of him, before slamming yourself back down. then again. then again. he whimpers when you do it, grabbing your hips to help steady you as you ride him for everything that he’s worth. he’s enraptured as your breasts bounce with each movement, and he can’t help himself now — he begins to thrust into you wildly, matching your rhythm and making you cry out. if you were in your right state of mind, you’d feel sorry for the poor souls who are on the same floor as him.

“pussy so f-fucking good,” he grunts as he feels you squeezing around him, and you’re about to smirk before he pushes you onto the bed, then turning you on your side so you’re facing away from him. he tries to slide back into your needy cunt, but the new position makes you feel even tighter. still, with the combination of his slick and yours, he’s able to push himself in again before rutting into you. he presses one of his big hands against your stomach while the other one hastily grabs one of your tits, and suddenly he's back to fucking you like a wild animal.

you've never in your life felt so wanted, so needed, but beomgyu needs you in a way so carnal it makes you feel even more lustful. he nips your ear, mimicking your actions from earlier, and begs for your praise.

“a-are you feeling good? you’re feeling good, right?” he chokes out as he hits a particularly deep part of your pussy.

“so good, beomie,” you moan. “you’re fucking me so good.” those words would normally never leave your lips, but he seems desperate for your validation, and you know he’s too far gone to mock you.

“oh god, this is w-what i dreamed about,” he babbles as he takes the hand that was pressing on your stomach and uses it to massage your clit, earning a strangled scream from you. “th-this is what i’ve always wanted.” and if you could see his face, you’d notice how his eyes roll backwards in sheer ecstasy.

“i’m gonna cum!” you cry, all self-restraint gone.

“m-me too, princess,” he moans. “c-can i cum inside?” it’s a pipe dream if he’s ever had one, and you can believe that he’s had one, but your response floors him.

“yes, yes, yes! do it inside, i want it!” and that’s enough. he spits out a curse as he hammers himself into you, making you almost sob as you come undone with him inside of you. the feeling of your pussy sucking him in even more as it wildly contracts around him pulls him over the edge, so he paints your walls with his seed and fucks you through both of your highs.

he stays there until he goes soft, slowly pulling out and watching in awe as the cum spills out of your hole. he pulls you flush against his body and sighs as he tenderly fixes up your hair.

“i really, really like you,” he earnestly whispers into your hair.

“i —”

“it’s okay if you don’t like me yet,” he interrupts. “i can wait.” you’re glad you’re not facing him, because you actually feel a little awkward at his sincere words, but you can’t deny that it makes your heart flutter to hear them.

“okay,” you say.

“okay?” he asks, just to be sure he heard you correctly.

“yes, i-it’s okay. you can wait.” he’s so excited that he throws himself on top of you and turns you to face him, lips greedily meeting yours, putting every ounce of yearning into the kiss.

honestly? with the way things are going right now, he probably won’t have to wait very long at all.

notes pt. 2: yeah... i'm so sorry that this is bad i'm just used to writing angst angst angst and this def veered more into cute territory but whatever just don't bully me

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upsidedownwithsteve · 8 months

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Steve Harrington x shy fem!reader [4.7K] no one's ever gone down on you before and you're feeling a little shy about it. luckily, boyfriend steve is happy to show you what it's like. 18+

“I’ve never—” you swallowed, unsure of your words, hardly able to make sense of them when Steve Harrington was on his knees in front of you. “I mean, no one’s ever done this to me before.”

Steve Harrington. The Steve Harrington - as if he hadn’t officially been your boyfriend for almost two months now. Sometimes it was difficult to remind yourself of that, that the prettiest boy in town was all yours.

He’d changed since high school, was a little softer around the edges now, if you had the patience to look for the signs. Less cocky, still confident, but he’d dropped the title of ‘King’ like it stung him, taking on a gentlemanly demeanour that was much more princely. His hair wasn’t as styled, he didn’t care whatever other people said - not as much, anyway.

It suited him, this smaller crown. Less showy but still just as golden.

“Oh,” Steve replied, eyes wide with surprise but not judgement. “Shit, honey— I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… assume.”

Steve took his hands from your bare knees like he’d been burned, his cheeks heated and his gaze apologetic. You couldn’t say anything in response fast enough before the boy was pushing himself up from the footwell of the BMW and back onto the seat with you. He looked panicked, like he’d done something wrong, like he’d done something terrible.

“Steve—”

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked, I didn’t even think— well, I just thought—”

“It’s not like I’ve not done anything,” you were rambling. Panicked. “I’m not a virgin, I would’ve told you— it’s just, I haven’t— no guy has ever wanted to do that and—“

“No, no, it’s okay!” Steve still looked wide eyed, like you were going to hate him, like you were going to break up with him. “I mean, that part isn’t okay— the guys you’ve been with should’ve definitely wanted to do that for you— but it’s, it’s… just should’ve asked before—”

He hadn’t done anything wrong, you needed him to know that. It had been a typical end to your night, first dates leading to second dates and more - fancy dinners and planned nights to the cinema and turning into comfier and more casual outings as you grew closer. So he’d picked you up after his shift and you clambered into the front seat of his car in a pair of comfy sweats and a t-shirt that was far too old. Steve had driven you both to a burger joint, shared fries and a strawberry milkshake in the front seats of the BMW as the sun went down and before it was time to go home, he parked up somewhere quiet enough for talking to turn into kissing.

He was always sweet about it, letting you call the shots and set the pace and you’d grown bolder, learned what he’d liked — learned what you’d liked.

But it had stayed relatively tame, a few hickeys and Steve’s hair a mess but nothing too below the waistline, not yet.

It was why he’d been so surprised when you’d pushed him back into the seat, his head falling back in shock onto the headrest, the back windows already steaming up from the heat of it all. Steve’s lips had parted when you’d swung a leg over his lap, dropping yourself on top of him with a held breath, your chest tight enough to burn. And without any other preamble, you’d launched yourself forward again, sweet and teasing kisses turning into something hotter, more desperate, now that you could feel the hard length of him pressed against the cotton of your underwear.

His hands had flown to your bare thighs, gripping you there as you licked over his tongue and when you let out a quiet moan, Steve felt like he was going to lose it. His hands wandered higher, skimming along bare skin and underneath your skirt until his palms found purchase on your ass, squeezing at the fat there, helping your hips move against him until you were panting into his mouth and he thought he’d died and gone to heaven.

Everything he’d done wrong in his life, everything he’d tried to right, everything he’d tried to fix - you were his reward, he just knew it.

He got ahead of himself then, panicked at the feeling of you rutting along his cock, the length of it pressed under his jeans and you. He could feel how warm you were, the beginnings of a wet spot on the front of your underwear and you were holding his face in your hands as you kissed him like you were scared he’d stop.

It was enough to make his dick jump, twitching and leaking at every pretty sound you made, every graze of your teeth over his bottom lip as you kissed him more and more feverishly.

He was going to come, he could feel it. He knew it. The warm, tightening sensation at the base of his spine was blooming, his cheeks turning pink, his hips bucking into yours helplessly. He wasn’t going to come in his pants, not in the backseat of his car, not like this, not with you. You deserved more than that.

That’s when he nudged you back onto the bench and dropped to his knees between the seats, crammed down into the footwell but your legs were spread and he could see that little damp spot on the crotch of your underwear.

He wanted to lick over the cotton, tease himself as much as you before peeling the underwear down your legs and pocketing the material.

And then you’d stopped him.

“I want to,” you told him earnestly, your voice a nervous whisper. He watched you lick your bottom lips, eyes wide and trained on his. “I do. I wanna do everything with you,” you admitted shyly.

You paused and Steve waited, kneeling up between your legs so his attention wasn’t as trained on the space between your thighs anymore. He leaned in, hands pushing at your cheeks, your jaw, fingers skimming soothingly over the skin there.

“It’s okay,” Steve assured you, his voice just as soft. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, nose bumping yours as he dropped another to the opposite side. “It’s okay to wait. I don’t mind-- at all, actually. You’re in charge here, okay?”

You leaned into him in lieu of an answer, lips searching for his and brows knitted together because he was just too fucking sweet to handle. Embarrassment still bloomed in your chest at the situation, at your own admission and you wanted to hide your face against Steve’s but the boy wasn’t having any of it.

He pulled away, chin tilting up to where you couldn’t quite reach him and he frowned at your saddened expression.

“Hey,” Steve tsked softly. “C’mon, you’re in charge, yeah?” He waited, looking at you with earnest, expectant eyes.

You nodded and cleared your throat, nerves and embarrassment swallowed with it because this was Steve. Your Steve. And he was looking at you like he’d give you the sun.

“Yeah,” you agreed and Steve smiled so you did too. “I’m in charge.”

It was only then that the boy leaned back into you, letting you press your lips to his for a kiss. He made it soft and sweet, languid and still tasting like the cherry you’d gifted him from the top of your strawberry shake.

——————

It took a few weeks to end back up in the same situation, this time in Steve’s bed.

There’d been a movie, you think, something that was supposed to be new and funny but you barely made it past the opening scene before you kicked away the remote control and moved into the boy. On your knees, weight pressed into the mattress and your mouth pushed to Steve’s because ever since that night in the back of his car, the sight of him on his knees for you hadn’t left your mind.

If Steve had been surprised at your sudden attack, he didn’t say. In fact, he welcomed it greedily, just as starved for you as you were for him and he pulled you down to meet him without much fanfare.

It was easier now, you were less shy, more willing to show your boyfriend how much you wanted him too. You showed him with greedy kisses, feverish and desperate, your hands sinking into his hair as Steve coaxed you onto his waiting lap, his hands skimming over your waist and your hips and the swell of your ass. You pushed him into his pillows without much thought, Steve’s hands taking you with him, lips never parting as he groaned into your open mouth and your tongue traced over his.

He was already hard, you’d noticed, the feeling of him in his sweats pressed between your thighs sparking the similar feeling in your tummy, the one you always seemed to get the minute the boy got his hands on you. Steve never seemed embarrassed either, always eager to show you exactly what you did to him and apart from a few fumbles in the dark, Steve’s hands slipping under your shirt to flirt with your pebbled nipples over your bra, there hadn’t been much else but kissing.

Tonight felt different.

You wanted tonight to be different.

So you did as you’d done on the car the week before, rolling your hips over Steve’s as you kissed him harder, nose pressed to his cheek as you pulled at his hair and hoped he’d fall apart for you. He did, or almost did, groaning louder than before and gripping your waist almost too tightly as he tried not to jerk up into you.

He lost it a little, hands slipping to your ass to palm at the bare skin peeking out from beneath your shorts, blunt nails scratching nicely over your upper thighs. Steve heaved out a breath, pulling back just enough to look up at you. He was all pink, flushed cheeks and messy hair pushed to his pillows, lips shiny from your kisses as he tried to slow his breathing.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he rasped, trying to sound authoritative but his fingers were trailing inside the legs of your shorts to play with the elastic edge of your underwear and he couldn’t take his eyes off of your heaving chest. “I swear, you’re actually trying to kill me.”

You grinned, still shy, still a little embarrassed at the effect Steve had on you, the effect you seemed to have on him. But despite your boyfriend’s suggestive touch, he didn’t stray any further. You remembered what he’d told you that night, eyes locked on yours, filled with sincerity.

‘You’re in charge.’

You swallowed, throat tight, trying your best to conjure up some bravery from the pit of your stomach. “Hey, Steve?”

Steve was busying himself at your neck, lips pressing kisses to the sensitive skin underneath your jaw and chin. He hummed, a silent question, a barely there answer and you almost forgot what you wanted to say when he nipped at your neck.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Remember— remember the other night? When you said… that I was in charge?” You asked quietly, head ripping back to let Steve do what he wanted, his lips still on your throat. “When you were gonna— uh, gonna go down on me?”

Steve paused but only for a second, seemingly deciding that reacting too strongly to your words would be a bad move. So he placed one last kiss underneath your jaw and then pulled back to meet your gaze. He was soft and warm, his eyes searching yours to make sure you were comfortable and when he found what he was looking for, he nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I remember.” He pushed you from his lap and back onto the bed, gentle and soft with it, easing you back into the pillows so he could lean over you and place a reassuring hand on your waist. “You been thinkin’ about that?”

You were grateful to be off of him, too pent up with being on top and feeling how hard you’d made Steve, finding it easier now to look up at him, your hands playing with the hem of his t-shirt. “A little,” you murmured. And then you corrected yourself. “A lot.”

Steve grinned, unable to help it and you were adorably shy even when talking about him putting his mouth on you but it just made him all the more wild at the thought. He moved his hand to your tummy, fingers moving over the soft pudge of it, his thumb stroking close to the waistband of your shorts.

“Yeah?” He asked again, sounding eager now, sounding hopeful. “What about it, babe? Steve watched you stall, lips moving without words coming out and he smiled, making it easier for you when he said, “you wanna try it?”

You could feel yourself burning, a little in embarrassment but mostly at the idea of it. You’d spent many nights since it was first brought up lying in bed and picturing your boyfriend between your legs. You’d thought about his hands on your thighs, pushing them apart so he could lean in and press his lips to you. You wondered what his tongue would feel like there, if he’d be soft, if you’d like it hard, slow, gentle, teasing. Would he use his fingers? Would he look up at you while he did it? Would he make the same noises he did when you kissed him? When you rocked your hips over his lap and grinded against him?

You nodded, the breath sucked from your lungs. Suddenly, the room was too warm and it only got hotter when Steve grinned and moved to kiss you, peppering little touches of his lips over your cheeks, your nose and jaw.

“You gotta tell me then, honey, yeah?” Steve murmured softly. “Just so I know you’re okay with it. I don’t want to make you feel like it’s something you have to do—”

“I know,” you interrupted. You sat up a little, back to Steve’s headboard as you made sure to keep eye contact with him. He needed to know how okay with it you were. “You’re not making me do anything, I promise. I want to. I really want to.” You smiled then, nervous and excited and with your skin rippling with anticipation.

“Okay,” Steve smiled back. “You’ll tell me if you don’t like it? We can stop whenever you want, alright?”

You nodded again and before Steve needed to prompt you once more, you promised him, “I will, I swear.” Your cheeks warmed again at the memory of your nightly scenarios. “I think I’ll like it though.”

Steve laughed then, not at all meanly. “Yeah? Well, that’s a good start.” He caught your wrist with his hand, pressed a kiss to your palm like a promise. “I’ll try my best, yeah? We can find out what you like together.”

And didn’t that sound really fucking nice?

His hand moved to your waistband again, fingers skimming over the denim before finding the button and zip. Steve tapped it, eyes on yours. He raised his brows and asked, “can I?”

You answered by lifting your hips, falling back into his pillows once more as you sucked in a breath, buzzing with anticipation. Steve fumbled with the metal once, twice, before it popped open and he took his time tugging the denim from your hips. You panicked a little as you tried to remember what underwear you were wearing but you didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought before your shorts were at your ankles and then on Steve’s bedroom floor.

He smiled at your cotton boy shorts, plain and white. Nothing sexy but certainly nothing embarrassing either. But then he was moving, just like you’d imagined, up onto his knees before laying down between your own on his stomach.

“You okay for me to be like this?” Steve asked you quietly, a reassuring hand squeezing at the outside of one thigh.

Your brows rose at that and you suddenly felt horribly naive. “There’s other ways to do it?”

Steve laughed again, soothing away the sting of his amusement by kissing your knee. “Well, yeah, babe. Loads of ways.” His voice lowered a little, his hands trailing upupup until they were close to the elastic edge of your underwear. “I could have you on your hands and knees for me. Could bend you over, y’know?”

Your body lit up, flames licking at the inside of your stomach until they were crawling past your ribs. The idea of it made you squirm, hips twitching under Steve’s touch and he looked delighted at your reaction.

“Or I could get you to sit on my face,” another kiss, this time on the inside of your thigh as he moved closer, your legs over his shoulders. The tip of his nose pushed at the edge of your underwear and your toes curled into the sheets. “Really let you take charge. Would you like that? Wanna ride my face, honey?”

“I—” you didn’t know what to say to that and Steve buried his smile in the side of your thigh.

“S’okay,” he whispered. “We’ll work up to that, yeah? How ‘bout for now, I just—” Steve pressed a kiss just under your belly button, lips flirting lower until you felt his mouth just above your folds. Something in your stomach flipped. “—find out what you like best, hm?”

And he did.

You were surprised when he didn’t immediately pull off your underwear and the noise that came from your mouth when he put his lips on you was unintelligible. Steve pressed a kiss to the front of your underwear, nose nudging at your folds under the cotton. You let out a gasp, breathy and high, hips twitching up until you were pushing yourself to Steve’s mouth and you could feel his smile.

“Hey, hey, s’alright, honey,” Steve assured you. “Gonna take my time with you.”

Another kiss, and then another, tiny touches pressed over the front of your underwear before you felt the heat from this mouth opening, his tongue tracing the line of your folds. The cotton grew even more damp as Steve licked at you, pushing his tongue into your pussy, the material moving under his touch, moulding to your skin.

You were gripping the sheets now, knees falling open on each side of Steve’s face and you didn’t dare look down, not yet. Your eyes shut on their own accord, stars and colours blinking behind your lids and everything felt warm, everything felt fuzzy, like you had cotton balls stuffed in your ears and you were being pulled underwater.

Except there was a live wire in the pool with you, zaps racing through the current to make your entire body buzz, little electrical shocks every time Steve licked at you. His tongue moved deliberately slow, his eyes watching your face, your body, your chest, your mouth for every reaction you gave him.

You liked this teasing, this slow build, this lazy burn that was getting hotter and hotter. So Steve kept at it, pressing his mouth to your cunt, open and with his tongue pushed to you, doing his best to find your clit through your underwear and when he finally pulled back, he groaned at the sight. The white fabric had turned a little see through, translucent in the low bedroom light and Steve could see every part of you with your legs spread so obscenely.

It was a dirty, dirty sight. Something right out of his porno magazines he kept hidden under his bed. The material was stuck to you, showing off your parted folds, the bump of your clit, your little hole, wetter than any other part of you.

“Oh, honey,” Steve moaned, his voice a broken rasp. You looked down at him then, messy haired and pink cheeked and framed by your thighs. He was staring at your cunt, heavy lidded and with red, pouty lips that were already shining from his hard work. “Wish you could see yourself, you’re so fucking hot.”

You whined, embarrassed but not daring to hide your face from him - to hide Steve from you. He looked up at you then, smiling - no, smirking - looking too pleased with himself and he took his pointer finger and stroked it through your folds. You jumped, an immediate response that Steve cooed at and he didn’t stop until his finger was resting on your clit. It was already throbbing, a hot pulse under his touch and he circled it carefully, slow and gentle and giving it pretty, little nudges.

Steve watched it move under his finger, watched it become more obvious through the fabric and his lips parted as he looked at you. He couldn’t stay away for too long, moving his face back to you to press a kiss to it.

“Good?” He asked you, checking in with a kiss to your thigh as well. “You doin’ okay?”

You groaned your answer, your ‘yes’ coming out high and needy. But that’s all Steve needed to hear before he let his tongue drag across you again, the flat of it pushing against your clit, his fingers pulling at the waistband of your underwear so the fabric was pulled even tighter against your pussy. He moaned into you when you whined, nose buried in your folds as he pursed his lips around your clit and sucked a little.

Again, he moved away, leaving you panting, gasping, his hands tugging at your underwear again, his eyes lighting up at the way the fabric stretched over you. He swore, voice low and dirty. “Fuck, baby, I can see you clenching down for me. That feels good, huh? Getting those cute, little panties soaked for me.”

You weren’t sure where your sweet, soft boyfriend had gone, but you certainly didn’t mind this replacement. Steve looked wild, drunk on the sight of you and you were more than happy to lay back and let him toy with you, his fingers and tongue winding you tight like screw top, ready to be sent spinning.

Your hands went from the sheets to Steve’s hair, grabbing at the beats strands, in desperate need to anchor yourself to him. You almost wanted to pull him up your body, having him crawl back up to you so you could claim him for a kiss. The need to have him closer was burning. But then Steve took pity, fingers curling into the sides of your now soaked underwear and you didn’t hesitate to lift your hips for him.

They were pulled down quickly and they soon joined your shorts on the floor and before the boy could ask, your legs fell open once more, shyness gone in the heady need for the pleasure the boy was giving you. Steve beamed, lying back between your thighs and his eyes greedy, taking in all your slick, bare skin.

“Oh, there’s a good girl,” he hummed, his hand smoothing up each side of your waist, taking your shirt with it. “Play with your tits, honey, lemme see them, yeah?”

You did as you were told, face burning as you pushed up your t-shirt and wrestled the cups of your bra out of the way, tits spilling out of them. Your hands shook a little as you pressed them together, hard nipples peeking through your fingertips and it was all filth, a lewd, pornographic scene that you wanted to give Steve.

“Ohh,” the boy moaned in appreciation, the sound rumbling in his chest and he rutted down into the mattress, seeking relief on his hard cock that was straining between his waistband and his stomach. “Look at you, Christ. You’re so damn pretty, you know that? Gonna let me make you feel good, baby?”

You nodded, whining until your words were just noise but they all sounded very much agreeable. So Steve ducked his head back down and used one of his hands to pull your leg out further, spreading you wide as he kissed a line from your entrance to your clit. And just when you thought he’d suck the little bundle past his lip, he let it go in favour of licking over your folds, left and the right - and the right up the centre of you with a wide, flat tongue.

“Steve, Jesus fucking Christ,” you moaned loudly, jaw unhinged and head hanging back on his pillow even when your back arched for him. “That’s— fuck! Don’t stop.”

Steve soothed you with gentle hands on your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles into the fat there and he hushed you. “M’not gonna stop, honey, don’t worry,” he spoke into you, lips pushing against your pussy with every word and you wanted to cry, you wanted to beg. “You wanna come already?”

It should’ve been a mocking thing to ask, the ‘already,’ holding so much amusement but you didn’t care. You couldn’t. Not when the boy was letting the soft tip of his tongue circle lazily around your clit, dragging it down to your neglected hole until he groaned when it clenched around him, his own hips bucking once more.

“She’s so needy,” he whispered, in awe. “And so damn wet, Christ baby, you feel good?”

You nodded, head bobbing exuberantly as you propped yourself on your elbows to get a better look. Steve grinned up at you and he nuzzled closer before bringing his hands to your cunt, thumbs spreading you open as he ordered, “keep your legs open, yeah? Good girl.”

And then he was closing his mouth around you, his tongue flattened against you as he sucked gently, the pressure of your clit being pulled into his mouth too much to handle. You keened, a high gasp that left your jaw hanging, eyes clenched shut in euphoria. The colours behind your eyelids turned to explosions, glitter in the air as Steve licked and sucked at you, the same pattern over and over again until you were pressing your heels into the bed and pushing back up to meet his tongue.

“I’m— Steve? Steve, I’m gonna come—”

His answering groan was almost as loud as you, his hands leaving your folds so they could grab at your ass instead, fingers pressing almost bruisingly into each cheek so he could hold your squirming hips against him. He didn’t let up as you chanted his name, knees locking around his head like a vice and when you let out a high pitched wail, pushing at his forehead, he pulled back with a disbelieving laugh, a half gasp.

“Holy shit,” he groaned, eyes roaming over how soaked you were, the way your chest heaved, how your heavy lidded eyes were set only on him. “That was so fucking hot, honey, like Jesus Christ—”

He didn’t get to finish as you grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt, hauling him up until he was frantically crawling over your body, his hands braced on the mattress as you pushed yourself up to meet him. You were both breathing heavily but you stole a kiss anyway, his lips slick and shiny and tasting like you.

You found you didn’t mind at all, your body burning at the reminder of what he’d just done, the taste of yourself on his tongue and yours, the thrumming pulse of your orgasm still simmering through you.

“Good?” Steve was grinning into the kiss, grunting and gasping when your teeth nipped at him, your tongue tracing the line of his cupid's bow, chasing your taste. “Fuck, baby—”

You nodded, nose bumping against his and you wanted to sob at how good he’d made you feel. Words didn’t seem enough to be able to express it. “Yeah, yeah, oh my god-- yeah, it was good.”

Steve was still beaming, more happy than smug, because you were elated, glowing from the high of it all and he’d done that for you. But before he could soothe you back down to earth with more kisses and soft hands, you were pushing him off of you and down onto the mattress. His cock was still throbbing and the taste of you still coated his tongue as you straddled him, your shirt falling back down to cover your pretty tits but he could see the shiny slick from your pussy peek out from under the hem of it as you sat on his lap.

He didn’t get a chance to question you.

“I wanna return the favour,” you said quietly. Soft but determined. “Show me how.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem!reader

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xomakara · 2 months

Text

Birthday Cake

SUMMARY | It's Mark's birthday and you have a very special surprise for him.

PAIRINGS | Mark x Reader

GENRE/CONTENT/WARNINGS | non-idol!Mark, non-idol!Reader, established relationship, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (both male/female receiving/giving), praise kink, pet names, dirty talk, food play, messy cake sex??

RATING | Mature, NSFW, 18+

LENGTH | 4093 words

TAGLIST | --

NETWORKS | @k-vanity

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Firstly, I apologize if it sounds rushed and probably not one of my best works. I literally wrote this in like 3 hours lol. I still hope you all like this though lol. Secondly, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARK. We all love you 💚

Mark Lee always considered himself a lucky man as he was surrounded by friends and loved ones who gathered for this dinner party for his birthday. Smiling from his seat, his hand was placed on your thigh, softly caressing. His eyes wandered over to yours. "You okay?" he asked, concerned.

You smiled and nodded. "Why wouldn't I be okay? My man's birthday is today."

"Good. You look so beautiful tonight, by the way."

"Thank you." You leaned in to kiss him. "And you look so handsome today."

"We get it. You both love each other." Johnny rolled his eyes jokingly. "Can we start the celebration already?"

You pulled back, a smile still on your lips. "Yeah. Let's celebrate."

Mark had planned a quiet and private party with the closest people in his life. As the night progressed, it turned into a rowdy one. Johnny and Yuta were playing a drinking game while Jungwoo, Jeno, Jaehyun, and Hendery were cheering them on. Ten was in the kitchen, preparing another batch of food with Doyoung. Taeyong was nowhere to be found, but he might've left with Kun since neither of them was here.

You and Mark watched them. You were sitting in his lap while his arms were around your waist.

"Having fun?" he whispered, placing a kiss on your neck.

"I am." You turned to him, arms around his neck. "Is the birthday boy having fun? Did he get all his presents?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. I did. Although I'm still waiting for the best present."

"Oh really? What would that be?"

Mark looked into your eyes. "The most beautiful girl in the world."

"And who would that be?"

"It's you." He gave you a soft kiss on the lips.

"You're so cheesy." You giggled.

"You love it."

"Yeah, I do."

You were about to kiss him again until Johnny interrupted. "Hey, you two lovebirds! We're going to sing Happy Birthday now. Stop being gross and pay attention."

"We weren't doing anything." You called out, Mark laughing.

Johnny raised a brow at you, clearly not buying it. "Uh huh, sure. Get your horny asses over here."

Mark stood up with you in his arms, placing you on your feet before standing beside you.

"Okay, guys, gather around!" Yuta called out, waving the cake in his hands. "One... two..."

Everyone sang, their eyes glued on Mark. You looked over at him, a fond smile on your lips. He turned to look at you, his heart fluttering as your gaze met. After the song ended, he blew the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered. You went back to your seat beside Mark and held his hand. "So, what did you wish for?"

He shrugged. "It's a secret."

"You know I won't tell anyone."

"But you'd find out sooner or later."

"That's true."

Mark squeezed your hand. "Let's get out of here, yeah?"

"But your friends—"

"They'll understand. I just want to be with you tonight."

"Okay." You nodded, a smile still on your lips.

Doyoung looked up from where he was standing. "You two better be responsible!"

You turned to him. "Don't worry. We're just going to hang out."

"Uh-huh, sure." Ten rolled his eyes.

"We're just going to hang out!"

Ten smirked, his eyes moving between you and Mark. "Dressed like that? I doubt it. Don't forget to use protection."

Your face heated up at his words. Mark only chuckled. "We're leaving."

"Take care, you two." Doyoung waved, watching you both leave.

As soon as the door closed, you took off your heels, sighing in relief. It was nice to feel the ground beneath your feet again.

"You could've worn comfortable shoes," Mark said.

"I wanted to look pretty for you."

"Baby, you always look pretty to me."

You smiled at his words, heart racing in your chest.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer. "Where do you wanna go?"

"My place? I got you a gift. And it's more of a private one."

"Okay, let's go."

You got a cab and went to your place. You fished your keys from your purse and opened the door, inviting Mark inside.

"Stay here, Mark." You said. "I'll be right back."

He nodded and went to the couch. Meanwhile, you went to your room and looked through your drawers, trying to find that sexy, crotchless lingerie you bought for special occasions. Mark didn't know that you own one. Hell, he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

Finally, you found it and you quickly changed, looking at yourself in the mirror. After putting on the lingerie, you fixed your hair and you threw your clothes back on so that he could unwrap you when you got to the bedroom.

You came back and smiled at him. "Do you have the present?" he asked.

"It's not a tangible gift."

He frowned. "Then what is it?"

You moved closer to him and sat in his lap. "It's a surprise."

Mark wrapped his arms around you. "Will I like it?"

"You will." You gave him a soft kiss.

His hands wandered to your waist. "Can I open it now?"

"Not yet." You laughed as you got off his lap and made your way to the kitchen. "Wait for me. I'll make it worth your while."

"You always do."

You came back with the cake and a candle. Mark was already waiting on the couch, smiling when he saw the cake in your hands. "Baby, we already blew the candles earlier with the guys."

"But that’s with the guys. Right now, it’s me.”

"Wow, baby, you're so thoughtful."

"Anything for the birthday boy."

Mark looked up at you, eyes twinkling. "Can I blow out the candles now?"

"Of course." You nodded. "Make a wish."

He blew the candles, the light from the flames flickering as it went out. At the same time, you were on your knees in front of him, your hand already massaging his growing bulge.

"I hope it's coming true," you said, looking up at him.

"It is." He nodded, leaning back against the couch. "It sure is."

Your hand rubbed the bulge, slowly unzipping his pants and taking his dick out. He was already hard.

"Already excited?" you asked, kissing the tip.

"It's my birthday. I should be excited."

You took him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. He placed his hand on the back of your head, gently encouraging you to continue.

"Fuck, baby," he moaned, his voice low.

You continued sucking, licking the underside and the tip, and swirling your tongue around. He was moaning loudly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Your hands were gripping the base of his shaft, jerking him off as your mouth worked him.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged. "Keep going."

He groaned your name as his grip tightened, pulling your hair. "Your mouth feels so good. So fucking amazing."

You felt his cum coating your tongue. You kept sucking until the very last drop. After that, you let him rest in your mouth, the sweet taste lingering. He looked down, a little surprised that his dick was still hard. You let him go, and it slipped out of your mouth.

You sat up, wiping the corners of your lips. "Didn't you like your gift?"

Mark smiled, pulling you towards him so that you were seated on his lap again. "I did, very much."

"Well, that was part one."

"What's part two?"

"Take off my clothes and see."

Mark obliged and removed your shirt, revealing the lace covering your breasts. "Oh? What else are you hiding? Wait... are you...?"

You smirked, your fingers fiddling with the hem of the tulle skirt. You raised it to reveal your dripping cunt in the panties that barely covered anything. "Part two, crotchless panties.”

His eyes widened at the sight, his hands automatically wandering to the bare skin of your legs. He stroked the insides, squeezing. Your thighs were a weak point for him, something that he used against you whenever he wanted something from you.

"Wait," he stopped. "Let's just go to your room. I wanna ravish you properly."

"Oh?" you raised a brow.

"It is part of my gift, right?"

"Part of it," you nodded.

"Okay." He looked up, gazing into your eyes. "Gimme more."

"Okay, birthday boy. Whatever you want." You giggled, playfully smirking. He carried you and rushed to your room. Laughter escaped your lips as Mark tossed you onto the bed. "Someone's eager to open their gift, isn't he?"

He looked you over hungrily, biting his bottom lip as his eyes fell to your breasts. "Because she looks so fucking hot."

You pressed your back against the headboard and spread your legs, offering yourself. Mark climbed into bed with you, kneeling on the mattress.

"Take what you want, Mark," you seductively told him.

His eyes darkened. He licked his lips and leaned towards you, capturing yours. He devoured your mouth, groaning as you opened up for him, letting him push his tongue past your lips.

After a few seconds of kissing, he pulled away and looked at you. "Hands on the headboard."

You did as told and reached behind you, latching on to the edge of the headboard, spreading your knees wide. Mark started trailing his lips and teeth across your neck. You shivered at the sensation, especially as his lips went lower and lower.

Mark squeezed your nipples between his fingers as he licked and kissed your skin. You gasped in surprise as he captured your right nipple between his teeth and tugged it. Your grip tightened and you whimpered, arching your back as he rolled the hardened nub between his teeth.

He then licked a trail downwards, placing open-mouthed kisses to your collarbones and between your breasts. When his tongue flicked over one nipple, you gasped, arching your back off the headboard and pushing your breasts into his mouth.

"Did you like that, baby girl?" he asked. His voice was muffled as his mouth was otherwise occupied.

"Yes, please."

"Okay, since you're enjoying this, I'll do more of it. But after I fuck that tight little pussy of yours."

"Thank you," you panted, feeling his tongue flicking your other nipple.

"God, you're so sexy."

Your eyes followed his head as he continued his way down your stomach, biting your lip as he licked all over the lace fabric. You'd bought it in dark blue because Mark complimented you in that shade of color before. It seemed he appreciated the gesture since he was practically worshipping your body in that outfit.

"Shit," you whispered, panting.

He hummed, sending a vibration down your core. Your back was arched, hands desperately gripping the wood behind your back, thighs trembling on each side of your lover's face.

"I bet you'd look so hot with cake frosting all over your tits," he spoke up, licking a line across your folds.

Your legs shook at his words, a soft moan escaping your lips. You felt him smirk against your core, clearly pleased with the reaction you gave him. "There is cake in the living room," you reminded him, your breathing was getting erratic.

Mark paused, eyes still focused between your legs. Then he looked at you with a smirk. "We'd have to change your sheets and shower afterwards."

"Worth it if it means you get to enjoy it on my body."

He growled as you wriggled underneath his gaze. The pressure of him being so close and yet so far away is driving you mad. You loved when Mark was gentle with you, but sometimes you also needed roughness.

"So, are you up for it or do you want to just fuck the shit out of me now?" you teased, leaning back against the pillows with a devilish smirk.

"Baby girl," he breathed, a predatory smile appearing on his face, "it'd be my fucking pleasure."

"Bring the fucking cake and decorate my body," you suggested, snarling playfully as you got rid of your bra and threw it somewhere.

He gave you a smug grin before he rushed out of the room and came back shortly with the cake in his hand, his finger dipping the frosting out. "Hmmm..." he purred, eyeing your body, "where do I start?"

"Wherever you want, birthday boy," you replied in a soft voice, almost a whisper.

A small mischievous grin appeared on his handsome face before he grabbed one breast and held your right nipple between two fingers as he applied the sugary substance over it. You squirm underneath his touch, goosebumps running along your skin as the chilling cream came into contact. He let go, looking pleased at the work he'd done before his eyes flicked to your face, checking to see if you were okay.

His voice sounded velvety as it reached your ears, "Do you want the other one to have the same amount, baby?"

"Mark," you gasped, swallowing down the lump of lust in your throat, "yeah, cover me with icing."

Mark's lips curled upward in satisfaction while his pupils dilated slightly from excitement, "Gladly, my love."

He grabbed another fistful and brought his hand down, starting his art, applying layer by layer in an attempt to replicate how beautiful his cake was. He then proceeded with applying frosting on your left breast while you moaned softly every time he touched the sensitive skin with the tip of his fingers. Once satisfied, he scooted closer and added final touches by using his tongue to give some details, making you squirm as it left a wet, sticky path across your chest. He blew on it, making you gasp for breath, your voice coming out as a mixture of whimpers and moans.

"This is fucking hot." Fingers still coated in icing, he brought them to your lips. "Suck," he demanded, watching with dark eyes as his fingers disappeared between your lips.

You obeyed and tasted the sweetness of the icing mixed with his masculine scent, feeling like you could come any moment, especially with the hungry look he gave you, eyes filled with lust and anticipation for the feast.

"Good, huh? Want me to continue?" he asked.

A soft moan escaped you. You were eager to have his mouth on your cunt.

"Answer me, darling."

Your eyes widened and you let out a strangled cry, "Yes."

"Such a slutty little thing for me, baby. What would people think, hmm, seeing you like this? All covered in sugary mess for my enjoyment? To consume you whole."

Your breathing came short and fast. You couldn't see anything other than Mark's heated gaze as your pussy twitched underneath his touch, his voice deep in your ear, coaxing more noises from deep within your gut as he used his tongue to circle around your icing covered nipple. He licked down to your stomach, circling his tongue around it, painting a picture for your senses. You felt yourself becoming wetter each time he dipped his tongue into your navel, the heat growing in the pit of your stomach, flames licking up your spine, begging him to touch your most sensitive parts.

"I'm going to devour you, darling," his low tone sent shivers running through every nerve ending, "all of you."

Your toes curled. A shiver ran down your spine.

"Yes, yes, please," you pleaded, voice husky. You wanted him more than anything. Wanted to feel every inch of his thick, delicious length in your pussy, spreading your walls wide open and filling you.

The room was silent except for your shallow breaths and Mark's heavy ones, both anticipating the moment he'd thrust inside you. Finally, he inched forward, hovering above you as he ran his tongue over your nipple once more, swirling the tip in slow circles before taking it completely between his teeth and giving a soft bite. Your hand slipped over his shoulder, fingertips digging into his shoulder blade as you arched towards him.

"Please..." your voice trembled as you felt yourself clench and tighten under his grip, preparing itself for what was to come.

Mark smiled into your chest, the smile stretching across his face until it became a full-on grin. He pulled back and slid his body down between your legs, taking his time to take every inch of you in before settling there, propped up between your thighs. His hand glided over your stomach and down to your mound, fingers pressing softly as they traveled between your legs. His palm lingered on top of your heat, fingers rubbing gently at the swollen skin as you shivered and squirmed, a light sweat coating your upper lip.

"Fuck, baby," Mark moaned. "You're so wet."

His fingers traced circles, leaving the combination of cake icing and your wetness trailing down the side of your leg. He dragged his lips down and his tongue swept against the inside of your thigh, leaving a slick trail of cake icing and saliva along the length of it, then up.

"Mark, please." you begged, desperately wanting him to end this torture and finally slide his cock in you, making you writhe against the soft mattress. You felt a warmth building deep in your belly as he moved his mouth closer to your pussy.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he crooned softly into your ear. "Tell me exactly what you'd like me to do right now and maybe I'll give it to you."

"Ughh, please!" you cried as his thumb brushed against your clit, causing sparks to shoot across your body and setting every nerve ending aflame.

Mark let out a low chuckle, enjoying every bit of it. You bucked upwards again as he moved his finger in circular motions around your opening before slipping the tip in. "Tell me more, I'll hear you loud and clear," he urged, his voice thick with lust as he added more fingers into your slick entrance, pushing deeper inside as you hissed out your pleasure.

"Take me, Mark. Please! Make me yours." You screamed. "I want you inside me so badly. Want to feel every inch of your amazing, perfect cock buried deep in my wet cunt," your nails dug into the mattress beneath you.

"You ask so nicely, but remember who's birthday is this. Say it." he cooed, his breath tickling the sensitive skin near the shell of your ear. He nipped the lobe, then ran his lips down your neck as his thumb rubbed the aching bud on the hood of your clit, sending fireworks along your spine.

"Y-your birthday." You stammered. "Please take me for your birthday."

His fingers reached lower. One last stroke with the pad of his thumb against your clit and your body was a trembling mess, walls squeezing, pulling, sucking around the two fingers pumping in and out. You were whimpering and groaning, lost to everything other than the movement of his fingers and his intense gaze focused directly on you.

"Please!" you sobbed, your pussy spasming around Mark's fingers and hips grinding helplessly up and down.

Mark withdrew them with a satisfied smirk on his face, cock so hard you could barely stand it as he pressed a thumb to the corner of your mouth, pushing a mix of icing and your juices into your mouth, which you eagerly swallowed down greedily.

"Fuck, I knew you could handle it, but damn, baby girl," Mark groaned, dragging a single digit along your slit, collecting your slick, watching intently as it clung to his fingers and dropped to the bed below. "That was one of the hottest things you've ever said to me."

Mark smeared the mix of icing and your liquids down his erection. He didn't bother to hide the pleasure he felt at the sensation, nor how hard he had become simply by teasing you and making you scream for release. And it showed.

"Ready?" he asked, the tip of his member already nudging your entrance.

"Yes." you gasped as your arousal began pooling. "Fuck me."

Mark didn't waste any time. Without a second thought, he pushed himself forward, sheathing his entire length inside your pussy in one smooth motion, moaning with satisfaction as his skin met yours. You arched up off the bed, the sweet smell of the cake still permeating your senses, mingling with Mark's scent, along with the unmistakable musk of sex.

Mark grabbed hold of your thighs, pushing them up, your legs on his shoulders. He pressed his head into the crook between your shoulder and neck and whispered to you, "Let's fill you up with my cake icing."

You moaned lowly, the sound almost inaudible over Mark's soft pants, as he slowly began rocking back and forth, the gentle movements turning into rougher strokes the longer he thrusts into you. It's not enough. Your body is tingling from the way he stretched your pussy out, and while it isn't the rough fucking you were hoping for, it's certainly an appetizer to the main event.

"Come on, Mark," you groaned, pressing down against him so that every thrust made him sink deeper and deeper, pushing you into the bed until his cock brushed up against that sweet spot deep inside of you. "Don't you want to take charge on your special day? Don't you want to show me who's in control here?"

Mark growled, the noise coming from the back of his throat sending vibrations down to where your skin met his. He pressed his lips together tightly as he struggled to retain his composure and composure be damned because now was his turn, time to show how good he could fuck when he was set to.

He didn't know if he could even wait to start but god help him if he didn't do something about how incredible his girlfriend looked right now, writhing beneath him, covered in icing and sex-messed hair stuck against her cheeks.

"Oh yeah, baby girl," Mark purred, lowering himself until his forehead pressed lightly against yours. "This is the best gift I could ever ask for." He nibbled lightly on your lower lip and whispered against it, "To have your pussy all nice and warm for me, letting me use you any way I like... I'm gonna wreck you, Y/N."

You moaned at the prospect and at how goddamn sexy he sounded when he was turned on.

"Make me cum," you rasped. "Use my pussy however you want and make me cum, please!"

"Your wish is my command." he grinned cheekily.

Mark's hips picked up pace, plunging harder and faster into you, filling you fully again and again.

You moaned as he slammed inside of you. Every time his pelvic bone struck yours was a sharp shock wave of pleasure flowing through you, making your brain swim. Your legs quivered at the contact; your heels dug into Mark's back and drew him forward, urging him to keep fucking you with that amazing dick.

You had never seen your boyfriend move this quickly before, the sound of his breathing and the loud groans you were hearing were all coming from inside your head. In and out. His thrusts were powerful. Hard and steady, almost machine-like as he buried his cock within you time after time.

And you loved every second of it.

Mark leaned forward, resting his weight on his palms, his face mere inches away from yours. His fingers tightened their grip in your hair before pulling you closer towards him and pressed his mouth onto yours.

As Mark broke the kiss, his breath hitched, body shuddering, cock spasming inside of you. Hot bursts of liquid shot deep inside, coating your cunt and filling it to the brim with semen. You held onto him tightly as his entire frame trembled with orgasm, trying to not collapse on you. He struggled to breathe while keeping his hands firmly anchored on either side of your head, locking his elbows so that he wouldn't fall over. He never broke his eye contact.

Finally, when both your orgasms had waned and you could think straight again, you began speaking, your voice sounding strained as it came out in short huffs. "You liked it that much huh?"

"Shit," he gasped between breaths, nodding as sweat ran down his face, dripping onto your chest.

"But..." His tongue flicked over your neck, licking the side before whispering hotly into your ear, "There's something I want a bit more."

Your breath hitched at his statement. "Hmmm?"

"A few more rounds for my birthday," Mark smiled playfully. "And then a bath before bed, babe."

#kvanity #nct #nct stories #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct smut #nct 127 #nct dream #nct mark #nct mark smut #mark lee #mark #mark x reader #happy birthday mark

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soularsss · 2 months

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Drawing Likeness: with Tem!

okaay since a few people actually showed interest in me sharing a bit of what I've been doing to figure out how to really capture likeness, specifically Temuera Morrison, I figured id do my best to write it out

I am also going to entice you with some of my recent clone art! (oooh some of it is unreleaaasedd)

I am putting the whole thing under the cut because I have a feeling its going to be long:

Read more!!!

a couple disclaimers before we start

-This is not some definite post about how everyone should be drawing clones, nor is it in any way claiming that this is the right way. This is just my musings as I stare at a mans face for way too long and try to replicate it

-I am inexperienced. As kind as you all are to me, drawing real people is relatively new to me, capturing a persons identity through their features is difficult for anybody, and I am no different. I have watched many a video on likeness and had my share of classes, but If im being honest, i rarely put it into practice successfully. So there'll probably be errors in this post or things i will come back to in a few months and wish I had said/done differently

ANYWAYs you guys get my vibe im just here to ramble and today we are rambling about mr copy paste. I am doing this for Law, my clone boy, because I plan on delving further into oc fanart and I want to put effort into representing him correctly!

SO LETS BEGIN

Before even deciding what specific pose of a person I want to draw, I tend to grab a bunch of references and compile them like so

(all of these can be found on my pinterest)

Why so many? Well, we are about to delve into facial features, so when we are dealing with photos we have to take into account that there are an abundance of circumstances that will influence how a persons face will appear, some of these include:

focal length: All of these are taken on different devices, and focal length can play a big part in distorting faces

age will play a part, your face changes a bunch throughout your life!

lighting, while not as major, can muddy the waters and make it difficult to interpret facial planes and features

SO, to make sure we get a proper grasp of what's really going on, I like to make sure we have lots of options to compare and contrast with.

Next up! What I like to do is block out the main facial features with colour on different layers, the features I block out usually are the general face shape, eyebrows, eyes, nose and lips. But what you are looking for is the defining features of a person, so that could include other things! Maybe a scar, or some particularly prominent cheekbones.

I dont have any rhyme or reason when it comes to picking my colours, all that matters is you can see all the shapes clearly.

Now I may be biased, because Ive been staring at these for 4 hours, but notice how it still looks like Tem? :D

Anyways, now we can break these parts down, and you'll see what I mean about compare and contrast:

We'll start with isolating the facial shape, putting all these next to eachother you'll notice they arent exactly the same (partly because of my shoddy work) But the distinguishing features run through each shape! Namely the very soft rectangular shape I sketched out in the bottom right there. Along with his soft, wide jaw structure.

I did the same for the rest of his features!

You'll notice I highlight the prominent shapes and ratios,

When drawing anything, it is important to start from the very base shapes and build up.

When drawing something you want to look like someone, those shapes relative to other shapes is what makes it look like them.

I didnt use the same technique with his eyes and lips, but I wrote out some helpful info for them! More importantly for his eyes.

When drawing eyes, I find the most important part is where exactly I draw the creases, (along with the overall shape of the eye itself) it is important to understand where those will present themselves with hooded eyes.

NOW, with an understanding of his facial features in place, lets take a detour to colours:

before I start, a couple things to note:

-Temuera morrison versus the clone troopers in the animated shows:

While I love the animated shows they don't exactly stay close to their source material. Im going to link here to an excellent post discussing whitewashing specifically in relation to the clones.

Temuera is Māori, of Te Arawa (Ngāti Whakaue) and Tainui (Ngāti Maniapoto, Ngāti Rarua) whakapapa, and also has Scottish and Irish ancestry.

The Māori people are the indigenous Polynesian people of mainland New Zealand (Aotearoa). Māori originated with settlers from East Polynesia. Māori people often vary in skin tone, Skin colour doesn't determine ethnicity. There's often a correlation but it's not a requirement.

But that is a tangent! What we are aiming for is to stay true to Temuera.

Bringing back my reference photos from before, Ive colour picked a buncha values and theyre all over the place. Why doesnt this work?

Similarly to earlier, you have to take into account the photos themselves. Many things like lighting, colour grading (when it comes to filmography) and makeup, can alter how a skin colour presents in photo.

You can attempt to get true to life by swatching from certain places on the face. Here I've tried to pick some photos with good lighting, and I've also tried to avoid overly lit/shaded areas.

Tem has a very warm, tan skin tone, Instead of colour picking I tend to try and replicate it myself, but I do often bring in references to make sure Im staying true to the source!

a brief intermission to talk about colour theory, something I myself struggle with alot. Often, when putting in flat colours without a background, I will forget to make sure the colours i intend to use will work with the skin tone i have picked! (something that is apparent in older works of mine, not just in relation to clones, but in general, the colours I end up with stray largely from their original sources and it is something I am doing my best to keep in mind and improve in! Although I don't think i am nearly experienced enough in the topic to say I have succeeded yet lol.)

anyways back to Tem :))

Now we can put all of that into practice! Things to keep in mind when drawing out a piece next to a reference like this:

the distance between the eyebrows? how far down his face does his nose go? Basically just, in relation to eachother, where do all those shapes we found earlier, sit?

The screenshot above is from before I did it myself, but instead of directly tracing from the reference, a handy trick I use it to complete your sketch first, and then overlay a traced version to see where your inconsistencies are! Alternatively, you could move your sketch over the image, but I didnt do it that way so!! uh!! im sure it works exactly the same!!!!

When it comes to a final illustration, or any sketch that isnt a direct study, of course you can push and pull and stylise! You'll see below that I'm not exactly 1:1 to my reference photo either.

The important thing with stylisation, or at least my own personal understanding of stylisation is that you need to thoroughly understand the thing you are stylizing! "You need to know the rules to break them" and all that. While shapes, lines and rendering can change, when it comes to drawing someone, and making it look like them, you have to make sure to keep their core features true to source. Caricature can capture a persons vibe whilst drastically exaggerating features, but it will only look like them if you KEEP THOSE FEATURES!!!! SHAPES!!! AHHH!!

But that is just my perspective on the discussion of style versus realism, please dont take is as Law, I dont know what Im on about half the time!!

anyways, after fixing your sketch, add local colours!

I rexified him because why tf not! But this is where you can go crazy with that clone personalization!

And then here is a very very barely rendered version (if you guys want me to explain how i RENDER that would need to be a completely different post, and I havent had anyone ask about it yet so who knows! maybe one day) But I digress, hopefully you learnt something new through my ramblings! It has certainly helped me organize my thoughts and I have also found some areas I would like to focus more on in the future to improve my own art!

TLDR: In order to understand an object, be it a face or a building or literally anything, you have to break it down to its simplest forms, understanding LARGER shapes will help you immensely in the long run

If you guys like this sorta content do let me know! I'd be down to do similar things for armor/anything really, I am very anti gatekeep so really anything at all you want to know! Send me an ask :))

also if you see a spelling mistake.. i don’t know how that got there

#can you tell im nervous #i’ve never done anything like this BEFORE SPARE ME PLEASE #star wars #star wars fanart #digital art #my art <3 #digital aritst #the clone wars #clone trooper #temuera morrison #tutorial #soulars yaps #soulars tutorial

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vcreatures · 6 months

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Gnomes are a small, ground dwelling, fairy found across most temperate forests, grasslands and in rare occasions mountain dwellings. They are one of the few fairies to be commonly found alongside human dwellings, having an affinity for their gardens. While most fairy beings can be seen as pests, the Gnome has managed to sway favor as they speak to a relatively good sign for agricultural communities. Having a Gnome is a good sign your crop is healthy and being tended too.

While most fairy species live relatively peacefully alongside one another, the Gnome is one of the few fairy species who do engage in warfare. This animosity is particularly found with Pixies.

Their “red cap” has become the moniker of the species. However this “cap” is not a piece of fashion, but a highly sensitive sensory organ used to help travel in their deep underground dens. They also act as a silent way to communicate with one another in dense brush or long grass. Only males of the species possess one. Female’s caps are small and dome-like, which they commonly adorn with flower crowns. The male’s cap doesn’t always remain active, they can actively render their cap flaccid, allowing them to burrow and squeeze into tight spaces. A male’s cap will grow throughout the course of his life, some reaching lengths double their body length.

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ovaryacted · 7 months

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please hear me out for this one. subby!re2!leon who refuses to pull away from eating you out like his life depends on it because you just taste too good!

like you've gotten him sooooo deep into subspace you seriously expect him to stop now? you may have just squirted but he's already came 3 times in his briefs and is whining and begging for one more! and comeon. you just gotta let him because you asked for this and all he wants to do is make you feel good 🙁😵‍💫

MDNI/18+. NSFW.

Anon…I’m hearing you out babe. Matter of fact, I’m gonna give you the megaphone so you can scream this across the rooftops. Trust me, I’m part of the pathetic Leon munch brigade and I believe he would eat pussy because he can and because he wants to please you. Whatever makes you feel good, he provides because it makes him feel good knowing he’s the reason why you’re a damn mess.

One of your favorite pastimes involves breaking Leon down into that delicious subspace where he’s not thinking and acting based on instinct. You’d probably order him to get situated between your legs, and before you could tell him, he’s already down on his knees and taking your panties off happily. Depending on your mood and tone of voice, either you’re taking control, or he’s doing it on his own as a way to make you relax.

His nose would be rubbing against you, licking up the length of your body and moaning as your taste filled his mouth. Leon has an oral fixation of his own, and being able to have his tongue on you curbs it for him. You were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, you reminded him of ripe peaches or a sip of sweet tea on a summer day, things that brought him comfort and made him content. With his eyes closed, he holds one of your legs up to give him easier access to your cunt, sucking diligently in the way you liked, the way you taught him.

Your scent alone would be enough to make him slip into subspace, an added yank of his hair would grant you a whimper from him. The only thing on his mind would be to make you fall over the edge more times than you can count, to make sure he got every orgasm he could get from you.

The first time you cum from his mouth, it’s relatively easy, not needing much except flicks of your clit. Your second orgasm takes a bit longer than your first, but it’s stronger and prolonged when Leon uses his fingers to please you. He’s done this so often that he knows exactly what to do, knows when to add another finger and when to curve them into that spot tucked nicely at the roof of your entrance. The way you flex around his fingers and tighten around him is enough to make him cum untouched in his briefs, making a mess and staining the cotton material as he pathetically sought friction with the floor.

He gets more sloppy with his ministrations, sucking at your clit more harshly and finger fucking you until you give him exactly what he’s looking for. Your thighs shake from where they sat on his broad shoulders, crying out as you squirted right in his mouth. Leon is greedy in seeking out your arousal, replacing his fingers with his tongue and humming as he slurped up every drop you gave him.

Leon was lightheaded now, his cock aching as it twitched again in his briefs, threatening to cum another time until you reluctantly pulled his head away from you. He whines, actually whines in defiance and you almost think he’ll throw a tantrum at the mere thought of not being able to have your pussy for the rest of the night. You took in his appearance, plush pink lips wet and swollen from what he’d been doing for the past 30 minutes, his chin and jaw were coated in your slick. What you loved most about these moments was how his eyes were completely glossed over, he wasn’t entirely present anymore, which was what you wanted from the beginning.

“Baby you gotta give me a break”, you said to him exasperatingly, chuckling at the way Leon licked his lips, leaving kisses along your mound absentmindedly.

“Just one more, please. Let me give you one more…”, he looked like he was about to cry if he didn’t give you another orgasm, strong fingers digging into your thighs and pouting at you.

You couldn’t stop him, you didn’t want to, even if you knew one more was never just one more with Leon. So you leaned back and let him suck away at you again and again until your whole body went numb. Even if you were tired, he would offer to fuck you properly, to leave you satisfied and full of him. He’s been good after all, making you feel like you were on cloud nine after a stressful day. Your pussy was his reward after a long day of working, and you didn’t want him to go hungry.

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #sub leon kennedy smut #sub leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #ovaryacted asks

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missmeinyourbones · 1 year

Text

WHERE LOVE LIVES

big bro touya & little snotty brother shouto, noncanon verse where rei got the kids the fuck out of that house!!!! slightly suggestive at first but shouto is a cockblock, i love u todobros, part 2?

Against the creaks of the floorboards and the buzz of the streetlights outside, the Todoroki household is relatively calm.

It’s barely the beginning of summer. Though it's rather late, the sun only set a mere hour ago and the humidity in the air still holds up, even without the harsh rays marinating the sky.

The Todoroki house itself is on the smaller side, especially for a family as large as they are. Filled to the brim with trinkets and out of place belongings, there’s not much wiggle room for architectural design or things that aren't deemed necessities.

But it’s well-loved, by a gentle mother and her four rowdy children. There are scratches on the floor from Shouto’s scooter that’s meant to be used only outdoors, and a chip in the beige paint from where Natsuo pushed Touya into the wall. Fuyumi’s work sneakers carefully sit beside the front door’s welcome mat. It’s a house and a home.

With Touya’s mother out for the night, the eldest son was left in charge of the house—and with that, his siblings. When your boyfriend charmingly invited you to spend the night at his place, he might’ve left out that tiny detail.

“Babe,” the squeaking of Touya’s mattress can he heard as he whines against your cheek, “you serious?”

You push him, though your warm smile betrays your rough action, “Deadly.”

Touya smirks at your resistance—he’s always loved a good challenge. His hands crawl up your sides, squeezing at the sensitive skin by your hips and waist. He laughs under his breath when you gasp on top of him at the brushing of his fingertips.

“Not even a quickie?” he smugly instigates.

“Touya, all three of your siblings are home.”

He remains unphased, shrugging beneath you. His chapped lips find your neck, crawling up to your jaw and right below your ear. He sucks a bit harshly on the one spot he knows you like so much.

“So? We can be quiet.”

You laugh at his bold words, and Touya hums happily against the vibration of your throat.

“You’ve never been quiet a day in your life,” you remind him.

“I could learn,” he’s quick to retort. With a sudden buck of his hips, you feel his half-hard length rub briefly against your heat. Touya doesn't miss the way you bite your tongue to hide your whimper.

At his foul play, you lean in dangerously close—not close enough to give him the satisfaction of your lips touching—before whispering.

“Sorry, I don’t fuck bad babysitters.”

Touya’s tongue skims his canine as he growls. “That’s a fuckin’ lie and you know it.”

You let him kiss you, and it's short and sweet despite his lewd words. But Touya works for more. His soft tongue tries to encourage your mouth to open, but you let him fail the first few times. On his third persistent try, you let your jaw fall open just enough to allow him access into your mouth.

A soft moan purrs in your chest, and when Touya opens his eyes to take in (what he knows to be) the alluring sight, his eyes catch a tiny figure standing in his bedroom doorway.

“Fuckin’ christ—” he jumps beneath you, bucking you off in the process and scootching upwards against his bedframe.

You turn in panic to look at the now cracked open door, only to see a tiny Shouto. With squinting eyes and a pout on his face, his dainty hand fiddles against the doorknob of your boyfriend’s room.

Touya runs his hands through his overgown roots in frustration.

Now, he knows how dramatic he can be at times, but he means it when he says that this might be the worst thing to ever happen to him. Shouto, of all people, cockblocking you two. It’s like a comedy sketch written by his own personal devil.

“The fuck are you doing up?” he dares to ask him, though you don’t miss the “fuckin’ perv” he grumbles at the end of the question.

“I—” a sniffled hiccup interrupts the smallest Todoroki’s declaration, “don’t feel good.”

Touya glares at his whimpering younger brother, unimpressed. “Go tell Natsuo,” he decides.

“He’s asleep,” Shouto immediately whines in reply, because of course he tried Natsuo first. “And Fuyumi is studying for her big test tomorrow,” his voice drifts off as his eyes find the floor.

Touya, the last resort sibling, kisses his teeth and throws a pillow towards the door.

“Well, ’m busy, too.” He returns to nip at your neck once more, but the glare you give him tells him otherwise. Unphased by your glare, he continus to lean in, but you dodge his advance and push his shoulder with your palm.

“Fuck,” he groans dramatically, throwing his head back in frustration. He turns his direction back to the boogery nuisance in his doorway. “Go drink water or something,” he waves him off with a hand.

“Touya,” you hiss at your boyfriend’s coldness. He looks at you and shrugs, as if you’d approve of his dismissive reaction. Your eyes roll just as quickly as your voice beckons softly, “Come here, Shouto.”

You move to the edge of the bed and the sniffly boy trots over to you on heavy feet. His pajamas are wrinkled, presumably from tossing and turning in his bed for the last few hours. His hands hover over his abdomen as he hunches in nausea.

Your hand finds his forehead, sticky with sweat. “What doesn’t feel good?”

Shouto’s nose crinkles in disgust, and Touya rolls his eyes at the dramatics.

You’re no stranger to any of the Todoroki siblings, especially the baby of the family. Between attending his school concerts and going out for ice cream celebrations, it’s safe to say there’s a lot of talk in the house about Touya’s pretty girlfriend—whom all siblings aren’t shy to vocalize is way out of his league.

“My stomach feels weird,” he whispers behind a frown.

You coo at his agony, fingers rubbing his boyish cheeks in an attempt to soothe his discomfort. “Well, what did you eat last?”

Shouto thinks for a moment behind his usual deadpan expression before his eyes slowly flicker over to where his older brother huffs on his bed.

“Touya got us pizza for dinner,” he remembers.

“Okay,” you nod. You remember seeing a few discarded pizza boxes when you first came in. “How many slices did you have?”

Shouto clams up in guilt at your innocent question, fumbling with his fingers and words as he croaks out a weak, “Seven…”

Your eyes grow in shock, but you’re able to suppress your surprise and merely nod before not so discreetly turning to his guardian for the night behind you in disappointment.

Touya looks like a deer caught in headlights when you hiss through clenched teeth. “Seven?! What is wrong with you?”

He shrugs defensively, gesturing to the blob of red, white, and sniffles behind you.

“He’s like… old,” Touya attempts to defend himself. “Figured I didn't have to watch him eat.”

Your eyes shoot daggers through his skin, and while he would normally love getting this look from you, he hates that it's in defense of his stupid brother.

“Okay,” you sigh, turning back to the younger Todoroki. His eyes soften when you extend a hand to his slightly chubbier one, “Why don’t we go find some medicine and lay down for a bit, yeah?”

Shouto’s face lights up at the offer—but naturally, with one Todoroki sibling’s happiness comes another’s demise.

“Woah woah woah—” Touya immediately stands up from his bed when his brother links your hand in his. He points at an accusatory at the little fucker when he gawks, “Who the fuck is ‘we’? Shouto knows where the medicine is.”

“Touya,” comes your same warning from earlier, and while Touya loves pushing your buttons, he knows his final strike is always the third.

So the three of you make your way downstairs—you and Shouto hand in hand while Touya grumpily trudges behind you.

Touya’s right—for once in his life—because Shouto naturally guides you right to the medicine closet, opening the door for you and everything. What a little gentleman.

A quick browse of the options and you decide on a bottle labeled for stomach relief. The bottle itself is opened but decently full, and Shouto behaves like a pro when he grabs himself a glass of water in preparation for his dose.

You pour the designated amount into a medicine cup and lightly cringe at the thick consistency. The artificial advertisement of bubblegum and strawberry can only do so much to disguise the fact that, at the end of the day, it’s still medicine. You hear Touya stifle a gag from behind you, but you know it’s half to piss his younger brother off.

Shouto remains unphased, downing the liquid like a champ and silently rinsing out his mouth with his water. You swear you see him shoot Touya a look, one with slightly raised eyebrows that reads something along the lines of victory.

You usher the two of them to the couch. Touya plops on the cushions obnoxiously, going as far as reaching for the television remote before you pluck it from his grasp.

Though you sit beside him, knees skimming one another, it’s not enough for Touya—because Shouto makes himself at home with his head in your lap. Bastard.

With a nod of approval from Shouto, you decide on some cartoon from the early 90s—something with talking animals and childish violence.

The silence between the three of you takes over, but it’s warm—like a relaxing blanket of weight. The Todoroki household is rarely quiet, let alone a good kind of quiet, so Touya decides to let Shouto win this round.

He shifts his gaze to look down at his youngest brother. Shouto lays comfortably on your lap, your hands delicately raking through his hair to help lull him to sleep. When he feels Touya’s hard gaze on him, he has no issue returning the stare. Under your embrace, Shouto smiles mischievously and sticks his tongue out in a taunt.

With Touya’s feet clunkily spread out on the coffee table and his arm loosely draped around your shoulder, he silently mouths to his brother.

“Bitch.”

#I had a BALL with this one #i love u todobros #touya x you #touya x reader #dabi x you #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #touya fic #dabi fic #touya fluff #dabi fluff

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torawro · 6 months

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I’D DIE FOR YOU (AND I HAVE). ( s.a. )

sousuke aizen & black!fem!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, blank and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine her that way. using this map of the seireitei as a reference (i searched high and low for a consistent accurate one but it was hard). the first half is set pre-ryoka invasion / pre-soul society arc. the second half is aizen-centric (from his pov told from the 3rd person) and set post-tybw arc, years after he was sealed away in mugen, also including mention of events from vol. 1 of can't fear your own world (a light novel that's post-tybw & can be considered canonical); so all this being said: SPOILERS i guess???? of course you're welcome to read if you don't care about spoilers! somewhat based on 'die for you' by the weeknd & even more loosely based on 'dark red' by steve lacy. contains themes of heavy-ish angst, existential crises (?) & inner emotional turmoil within reader + aizen (separately). descriptions of character death, blood and violence. descriptions of manipulation/mind games. aizen is an unkind man. proofread (i did my best).

word count ━━ 11k

notes ━━ ! the way this fic was supposed to finished a month ago...but life once more gets in my way. and the way that it's this long....i anticipated the max being 10k but i greatly underestimated how long it would take to flesh out my idea. anywho i'm somewhat reentering my bleach era again. i’m not sure what it is but character analyses in the form of fanfiction is my jam rn like i really enjoyed writing this (i got tired of the length by like... 7k words lmao) but i like how this turned out. i've watched & read quite a bit of content that provide explanations as to why aizen is the way he is so i wanted to try my own portrayal of that in the context of canonical events. how i characterized him here is partially inspired by a fic i read about him last year so shout out to them for their support :D i hope i've depicted and humanized aizen well ♡. reblogs + commentary are heavily appreciated!!!!!

THE PAD OF YOUR THUMB SLOWLY glided against your bottom lip, the lingering aftertaste of jasmine tea still on its surface and on your breath. The absentminded motion of your thumb caressing your mouth, as if in deep contemplation, continued as you stared at the clock hanging on the wall above you.

It was past eleven, and the midnight hour only continued to draw near as time sustained its temporal march. And there you sat at your desk, floating in the limbo of your mind that was filled with hesitancy and admittedly, budding anticipation.

Your gaze lowered to the now empty porcelain cup, nothing remaining of its contents except the shriveled remnants of herbs and a few wayward drops of the brew.

Your senior comrade, captain Sōsuke Aizen, was correct in his prediction that you'd take a liking to its floral and delicate taste when he gifted you a jar full of the jasmine tea leaves as well as other ingredients.

The captain of Squad 5 seemed to be correct about a lot of things.

His intelligence and foresight, along with his kind and politely witty disposition, were qualities that you found somewhat charming, and gradually drew you closer to him.

Being the current third seat of the 9th company, your barracks and those of squad 5's were relatively close to each other's, so often you'd catch glimpses of and run into Captain Aizen on a pretty normal basis. Over the years, the conversations that bounced between the two of you expanded past the realm of formalities between a higher and lower ranking officer, and instead ranged in territories from literature, to art, to food & drink, and even to the politics of the government for which they were soldiers for.

Sometimes, you found it hard to believe that you managed to befriend a man like him. A man who seems to have mastered the balance between being a gentle soul, helpful to others, but also possessed enough refined power and skills to be named a captain within the Gotei 13.

Especially a man who wasn’t even of your own squad.

Despite the increasingly friendly relations and generally pleasant conversation, there were few moments where Aizen's words didn't feel quite. . . . real━ he didn't feel real. He spoke eloquently, often relying on figurative language to further illustrate his point and to breathe meaning into seemingly plain and meaningless words. But at times those words, his tone felt stained; stained with some substance or color you couldn't quite place. An enigmatic façade was painted over his speech, and it took too much mental capacity to try and find your own meaning in it.

So you'd often brush it off. Your over-reliance on your own reasoning that 'you weren’t able to come to a conclusion because there is no problem a conclusion could be generated from' successfully quieted your mind’s voice. You'd also frequently blame exhaustion, or your newfound hobby of watching human psychological crime shows during your off days for these subconscious ideas you had.

But you feared that the request Aizen made of you yesterday, the source of your current predicament, couldn't be blamed on any of those things. You looked at the clock again before returning to stare at your empty tea cup. For what reason could Sōsuke Aizen wish to meet you outside of the 1st division barracks? Specifically at this hour? You immediately thought of his question as uncharacteristic of him but prevented yourself from jumping to any further conclusions.

Aizen was a reasonable man, and you were sure there was a reasonable explanation.

With a final sigh of acquiescence, you stood up from your sitting position to retie your yukata before slipping a thicker, dark colored haori on top. You were unsure how cold it was this late at night or how long you'd be out, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

You paused for a moment, glancing longingly at your vanity mirror a few times, clearly torn between a decision, before giving in with a soft groan. Grabbing your favorite perfume, you quickly spritzed the spray onto both your inner wrists, either sides of your neck, and stray areas on your clothes. You’d proceed to make sure your hair was in order and your lips were as moisturized and glossy as a pair of tear-filled eyes before making your way to the door and slipping on your sandals.

Meeting with a captain— with Aizen of all people— in the dead of night resembled too closely to forbidden lovers rendezvousing under a fruit tree to fulfill their desires of embracing one another, with no one but the moon as their witness. The comparison alone caused the apples of your cheeks to burst aflame with embarrassment, and you lightly chastised yourself for even indulging in such an inappropriate train of thought. Such a scenario seemed far too deluded to even be considered ‘wishful thinking’.

But those delusions still seemed to make more sense than whatever other conclusion you have yet to reach.

Making your way out of your personal quarters, you activated your shunpo technique, stealthily hopping from one rooftop to the other in an effort to make it to Squad 1 barracks quicker.

After several minutes, your mind mostly engulfed with the 'what if's', the soles of your sandals finally touched ground, and you stood a few feet away from the massive walls and bridges that connected to and from the barracks. Even at night you were able to make out the bold-printed kanji for the number 1 that was painted on the building.

When you arrived, even from a nearby rooftop, you didn't see anyone around. Feelings of confusion and worry began to creep up and flicker to life in your mind.

But, as if your thoughts were as audible, you felt a light breeze of wind behind you, a familiar sound that indicated someone had made their presence known.

Startled, you reflexively reached for your zanpakuto, when you remembered that you hadn't even brought it with you. It still laid against the wall near your bed, just where you placed it earlier when you were relieved of your duties for the day.

You didn't think you needed it necessarily if you were just going to meet with Aizen, hence why taking it with you slipped your mind.

The flickers of concern were swiftly extinguished as your brain caught up with your body upon realizing who just appeared. A relieved sigh left your lips, a breath of air that seemed to release all the tension that had a grip on your heart and wound tight within your muscles. "Ah! Good evening Captain Aizen. You caught me off guard for a moment there."

"My apologies, that was not at all my intention." The Fifth Division Captain sported a dark colored scarf, his long captain's coat and the standard shihakushō all Gotei officers were supposed to wear. In the sash around his waist resided his own sheathed zanpakuto. His tawny hair maintained its usual part but looked slightly tousled, yet still remaining so in a meticulous fashion that made it look intentional.

The state of his hair alone, and his current facial expression made Aizen look more . . . approachable if that’s how you were to describe it. There was a glint in his eyes that you had seldom seen before.

"Thank you, for making your way down here to accommodate my rather. . . . atypical request. I again extend my apologies if I have inconvenienced you in any way."

You shook your head in reply, "It's alright, I wasn't doing anything too important anyway. Just having a cup of tea and delighting myself in a book before bed."

You glanced downwards at the foot or so of space that was wedged in between the two of you. You forced away the murmurs of your lingering thoughts that took note of how the moonlight and shadows danced across the surface of Aizen's face just right, and emphasized his decidedly handsome features.

"But having a complete and good night's rest is important to be fully functional in all areas of one's performance. Wouldn't you agree?"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yes, I do agree with that sentiment."

Aizen all but hummed in acknowledgement, letting a moment of silence fill the air before speaking again.

"Shall we be on our way?"

You nodded in agreement, following him as the both of you walked about the First Division grounds. From what you could tell based on your position, your aimless nightly stroll drew you closer to where Sokyoku Hill was located. The area became increasingly more grassy and contained less buildings.

Although Squad 1 grounds weren't terribly far from either of your barracks, you still weren't sure as to why Captain Aizen wished to meet out here. Initially you thought that perhaps he was just fond of this particular scenery, but really it could have been anything.

But still, you believed Aizen always had a purpose for everything he did.

After several moments, his warm voice replaced the evening silence, vocalizing your current thoughts. “I assume you are contemplating why it is I have asked you here, and I’m afraid the reason is quite benign. Truthfully, I just wished for your company. I often go on night walks to clear my head after a long day and thought I might invite you to join me this time, and have a conversation with each other."

Your brows shifted upwards, for that was not quite the answer you were expecting. It seemed too . . . simple. “Really? You just . . . wanted to talk with me? Plainly?”

The Squad 5 captain let out a short, soft laugh at the disbelief that was painted on your face. There was an expression of fondness present in his eyes and in the light smile he offered you. “Yes, exactly. I quite enjoy our discussions actually, they’re intellectually stimulating and relatively pleasant. You crossed my mind, and before yesterday, it has been quite some time since we’ve had the opportunity to unwind and talk.”

You hummed an mhmm in agreement, tearing your eyes away from Aizen’s side profile in favor of the hem of his captain’s haori, watching how it danced in the soft breeze. It seemed to be less distracting than the way Aizen peered down at you from time to time.

"I see. I am. . . . truly flattered by your words, Captain Aizen; you're too kind. Forgive me for asking but," you took longer strides so that you could fall into step next to him━ as if to speak to him more directly, "Why at this time? To talk with me, I mean. It couldn't wait until more . . . . . conventional hours?"

He chuckled again, and answered as smoothly as if he were awaiting you to ask him that. "Unfortunately, today's tasks ran a little long today, so I had to stay at my office later than usual." The spectacled man paused for a moment, before setting his soft gaze on you, "And besides, that completely defeats the purpose of inviting you on a night stroll, doesn't it?"

You ignored the heat flaring up in your cheeks again. Your mind refused to move past the fact that you had crossed Sōsuke Aizen's mind enough times━ or the times that he thought about you were significant enough━ and highly enough to invite you into his realm and indulge in these moments with him, when he very much could have done that alone.

A tender smile appeared on your lips, more towards yourself than the man next to you. "I. . . suppose it does."

The ashen-white moon only rose higher in the sky, providing an ambiance of tranquility as the both of you talked about whatever crossed the surface of your minds. Other times, the stillness of the night did the talking, and you'd listen to the leaves, and the wind, and the crickets sing together in harmony. Gradually as you walked and the beaten path grew more narrow, your figures drew closer together, until you could feel the long sleeves of his haori brush against your own.

You hadn't noticed that the two of you eventually stopped walking and paused under a tree until Aizen struck up conversation once more. When he called out your name in that gentle, velvety voice, you swore your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The sound of your name rolled of his tongue so smoothly, the desire to hear it again grew within you.

"Uh━ yes, Captain Aizen?"

"Are you satisfied with way things are at the moment?"

You stood next to him, perplexed at his inquiry due to its vague nature. "Um, what. . . . things? I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking."

The wind brushed Aizen's dark ochre tresses across his face as he took a step towards you, like the breeze itself was pushing him towards you. "Hm, perhaps I should be more clear then. Are you content with being a soul reaper? Are you satisfied with being a soldier for the Soul Society?"

With your brows slightly furrowed in thought, you remained silent for several seconds and overanalyzed his every word, trying to predict where he might be steering the conversation now. The longer you thought it over, the stronger that nagging feeling from within your soul became. The one that often told you what he was asking wasn't exactly . . . it didn't quite feel . . . . .

"This feels like a prelude to another insightful discussion on Shinigami━ and by extension━ Seiretei politics." Your words cut off your own thoughts, as if your mind was trying to sweep something under the proverbial rug.

Aizen huffed in amusement, before lightly shrugging, leaving your statement definitively unanswered.

You sighed as you seriously considered his question this time. "I mean sure, I guess. I'm somewhat satisfied with my job and all of . . . this," gesturing your hands in the air around you to emphasize your point. The 5th Division Captain made another humming noise, indicating that you still had his full attention. He inched a little closer into your personal space.

The mere action caused your next words to die in your throat and a quiet chuckle resounded from his, before your thoughts revived themselves again.

"Of course things could always be better but. . . . y'know. This is just how it is." You weren't quite sure if you should voice negative opinions about the Soul Society so plainly to a senior officer, even if he was the one who asked you in the first place, so you treaded lightly.

The same plainly relaxed smile from earlier remained painted across his lips, held in his chestnut irises was an emotion akin to affection. He seemed somewhat pleased that you were expressing your thoughts with him.

“And you? Are you satisfied, Captain Aizen?” You were unable to keep the teasing endearment out of your tone as you returned his gaze, casting aside the notions of Gotei officer seating and ranks for the moment. The air seemed like it shifted━ towards what, you weren't sure of━ but it kind of made you feel like you were adrift, floating in isolation from everything else around you.

It was still hard to process that you were alone with Captain Aizen right now. . . . at night.

A low hum reverberated within his chest, contemplative in nature as he replied, “Perhaps.”

The wind whistled lowly again, erecting goosebumps on whatever part of your skin happened to catch the midnight breeze. You fought the instinctual urge to twitch towards the nearest source of heat, which happened to be Aizen. Now that would be even more wholly inappropriate than the 'lovers meeting at midnight' scenario.

The silence between the both of you was brief, but comfortable nonetheless. Once more his mellifluous voice cut through the quiet, leveled and calm, like still ocean waters.

“Come. I want to show you something,” Aizen reached his arm out towards you, your spine as straight as if someone stuck a metal rod dipped in ice water down your robes.

The captain's movements seemed steady and slow━ it had felt like time itself had hesitated for several moments. You thought he was going to . . . . well you weren't sure what he was going to do, and that's what you made you nervous.

Was he going to touch you? Cradle your cheek? Remove a stray leaf that happened to land on your head? You were left somewhat dangling in anticipation, not daring to flinch backwards because you felt it would be disrespectful or offensive. You hadn't even blinked, subconsciously fearing that this was only a very vivid daydream.

But alas, when his arm drew near it extended past your head, slightly above you, and held a small branch in his palm it like a delicate flower. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, but that breath drew short again when your gaze was eye level with his lower neck and chin.

He seemed . . . . closer.

“I think that regarding the condition of the Soul Society," Aizen began in a quiet voice, referencing his own reply to his earlier question, "and therefore my thoughts about it, is akin to this set of leaves on this branch."

Snapping out of whatever stupor you seemed to have slipped in, you exhaled softly before stepping back a bit to look at what he was talking about. In his palm he cradled a wayward branch that grew from one of the other sturdier branches of the tree. The green foliage of its arms had started to weaken and dull in color. The cold air due to the seasonal transition to autumn caused the leaves become brittle, nearing closer to the edge of death.

The sound of just how brittle they were resounded in the air when Aizen thumbed the leaves in between his fingertips, observing their texture with pity laced in his small movements.

"These leaves will fall off as it gets colder. And soon, the rest of this tree will be bare as well. When the time comes, when the right circumstances fall into place, the old die to make way and usher in the new; it's simply the way things are. I think of the Soul Society government is structured in a similar manner."

You hung onto his every word, like he were imparting crucial wisdom to you. Even though you were a bit confused on the last part, and on the connection between dying leaves and Soul Society, you still listened intently, waiting for him bridge the gap between the two.

"The Soul Society as it is now can be thought of as a season. And this particular season, this climate has remained so for several centuries. How can nature continue━ how can we continue to progress when the old have yet to be washed away by the currents of time? It defies that of nature, yes?" He directed this question at you specifically, in search of your agreement.

You nodded your head, tearing your gaze away from the branch and directed it at the grass beneath your feet. Your brows furrowed a little as you mused over Aizen's words. He gave a rather ambiguous answer before but now, his words sounded like vague displeasure and muted criticism. Everyone was entitled to their opinion, and on some fronts, you'd sometimes agreed with the 5th Division Captain. The Soul Society was far from perfect, too much emphasis on nobility and status, the government resembled too closely to an oligarchy . . . But you didn't━ wouldn't voice these thoughts, though.

Instead you hummed quietly under your breath. There was that tugging sensation again. This time it told you that there was something deeper to this conversation than meets the eye. But what could there be? Was there anything at all or were you just overthinking it?

The voice-like sensation in your soul was calling out to you, but you couldn't hear it that well or quite make out what it was saying. It's as if someone was calling out to you in a crowded room that had music playing on the speakers: you felt like if you listened hard enough you could make it out but ultimately, the result would fruitless.

"And when that happens," Aizen continued, "sometimes nature has to be gently nudged back on track to keep things moving smoothly. That may require . . . shaking the tree. Pulling a few harmful weeds from one's garden, so to speak."

"Weeds?" You echoed. You felt like you understood this analogy and therefore what he was trying to say, but at the same time you didn't. Or was it . . . . you didn't want to understand what he was implying?

Because if you were interpreting his words correctly, if he were inconspicuously comparing the higher-ups and the government itself to dying leaves and harmful plants that needed to be removed, then . . . .

"You, dear child, are a mere weed in this scenario."

Wait, what did he just━

Your thoughts were cut short when a gush of air that smelt strongly of Aizen━ warm oak, vanilla, and a kind of musk that you weren't sure how to describe but was still pleasant all the same━ brushed against your face and took you by surprise.

But there was another aroma that arose, steadily becoming more apparent alongside the increasingly painful throbbing feeling you felt in your abdomen.

It smelt metallic. And it was something that you've smelt all too many times before.

It was blood.

Your gaze that was initially narrowed in confusion lowered as it followed the source of this pain. Your eyes slowly widened in as you struggled to comprehend the blade that was currently ran through your torso.

Aizen's blade.

"Actually, instead of weeds, a more accurate and befitting analogy perhaps would be blades of grass. You unfortunately have to step on them in order to reach the weeds you want to remove."

You couldn't really focus on what the captain was saying, because your brain was still struggling to process what the hell just happened. Your hands slowly rose from their sides and shakily grazed the zanpakuto, wanting to believe that if you touched it, it would pass right through your fingers like mist. But no, the sensation of cold steel was as real as the robes you wore on your back. You only just now are processing the muffled squelching sound of his sword impaling your flesh.

You wanted to scream, to cry in pain, to vomit, to push him off━ something. But all you could do was stand there, stunned, words completely failing you. "Wh. . . . what? Why did . . . . you . . . . "

A cough replaced your attempt at a comprehensive sentence, and you tasted iron in your mouth.

Fuck....was this really happening?

"Please don't push yourself trying to talk," His voice was like an index finger to one's lips, similar to a parent's gentle caress to quiet and sooth their child, "You'll only hasten your death. And I'm sure you wish to know the reason for my killing you, yes? You'd have to be alive for that."

'Killing me?' 'My death?' The certainty that rang in his words chilled the blood in your veins, and they confirmed the one conclusion you hoped wouldn’t come true: that you were going to die.

The frigid embrace of fear and dread engulfed you from behind and you shivered, causing the blade snugly lodged in your organs to shift. The pain of that foreign object moving even a little bit shot through your entire body, causing a groan to emerge from your throat.

Desperate to conserve your energy and the oxygen that was becoming a little harder to take in, your breathing became uneven and a little wheezed. Even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet the gaze of Captain Aizen to confirm if this was really happening or just an extremely realistic and vivid nightmare. The sight you might be greeted with could be more frightening than the actual impaling of his sword.

As if his betrayal couldn’t actually or figuratively cut you any deeper, just then there was a noise that grew louder and louder within a matter of seconds until it was almost deafening. You’ve distinguished it to be the sound of glass crackling.

Your surroundings formed cracks everywhere on its surface, like it was just an oversized window. Even on the grass you stood on, or what you thought was grass, began to crumble away.

A dumbfounded but panicked look was plastered on your face when your world literally shattered around you, the only remnants of it being you and the Captain.

What was underneath the mirage━ or you should say, the fact that it was a mirage at all━ only disturbed you and increased your perplexity.

Slightly hunched over and breathing heavily, it took a minute to process where you were, but you noticed that now the two of you stood in a formal room that looked like it was used for important meetings. The lights in the room slowly started to brighten, most likely due to motion sensors. Even with Aizen's scent lingering in your nose, you could still pick out a rather stale aroma that hung in the air like dead fruit that hadn't fallen off the tree.

"Is . . . this Cen . . . tral━ "

"You are correct. Where we currently stand is the assembly hall for Central 46, the judicial power of the Soul Society. All judiciary as well as legislative trials and proceedings are held here."

All around the room were seats with partitions, the kanji for 1 through 46 printed on them. In the seat for the 19th member, your gaze caught onto something on the translucent barrier. It was a little farther up so you had to squint your already blurring vision to see it properly.

You saw, and your heart promptly sank as a result, eyes widening once more.

There were splatters of a dark colored substance on the partition━ undeniably blood. And the lithe, bony fingers of an older man laid lifeless, peeking out from the side of the screen like the appendages themselves were trying to escape from the body they were attached to.

That man . . . was dead. That stale aroma you smelt was the stench of death.

It was only after that unsettling epiphany did your eyes dart frantically around the room and realize that every member of Central 46 was dead.

The disturbed expression on your face only intensified as your stare was pulled back down to where Aizen's blade still resided in your body.

" Cap.....Aizen," you uttered, swift to correct yourself. All the moisture in your throat dried up like water underneath the unrelenting rays of the sun. You kept gulping your saliva in an attempt to assuage the sensation, but relief only last for a fleeting few seconds. "Did you ━ you killed them . . . didn't you?" Your question was laced with shaky hesitance and swelled with apprehension, fearing that you already knew his reply even before he answered.

There was a moment of silence and a hum before he replied. "Smart girl."

The muted mirthful tone in his voice sounded like sarcasm, and it was enough to finally draw your attention away from everything else and directly look at him. Almost instantly, you regretted it.

His umber tinted gaze was colder than you remembered. You couldn't find anything in his eyes that hinted that all of this was just a big misunderstanding, or a dream, or that Aizen had a secret sense dark and complex humor.

This was your first, and apparently your last time, that you have ever felt a fear such as this. Your mind was struggling to comprehend this was the same Aizen that spoke with you so gently, full of encouragement and wisdom. The same man that recommended you books to read and gifted you tea to drink and gazed upon you like . . .

Well, none of that mattered now. In this moment, Sōsuke Aizen wasn't the same man anymore. This Sōsuke Aizen was someone else, and it frightened you.

"When?" you croaked, your voice no longer sounding like your own. Nothing felt real anymore. "W-When did you . . . . . how? Why?"

Another noncommittal hum resounded from the spectacled man as he closed his eyes, feigning the action of thinking of an answer. When he reopened them, his narrow gaze returned to you.

"Everyone in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads was previously aware that the ability of my zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu, allowed me to confuse the enemy using bodies of water, mist and even moisture in the air in order to attack. However, that is not my zanpakuto's actual power; there is more to it than just simple confusion. Kyoka Suigetsu's true power is Complete Hypnosis. Essentially, when someone looks at my blade, I am then able to take control of that person’s five senses, causing them to believe that something is real ━ or that something isn't real. In a way, once glancing at my unsheathed zanpakuto, that person forfeits their sense of existence to me. Kyoka Suigetsu is quite flawless in its deceptive abilities."

A heavy silence, aside from your uneven breaths, endured in the space between both of you. You didn't need him to spell out what he was trying to say.

It was all . . . . an illusion. A convoluted, premeditated illusion. And you walked right into it without even knowing or considering, that it was all fake.

The Fifth Division Captain inwardly smiled at the despair clearly written on your face as he watched you mentally put the pieces together. He took your lack of reply as a sign to continue. "The members of Central 46 have unfortunately been dead for quite some time now. And as for your question of why......"

The taller man stepped towards you which inadvertently (or purposely, you began to fear), drove his sword deeper into your abdomen without warning and slight force. You bit down on your bottom lip hard to stifle your exclamation of pain. In an attempt to somehow resist him, with the little strength you had left, your hands automatically took purchase in his oversized sleeves, but it did nothing. You found it ironic that you could feel how warm Aizen was underneath his robes, but his soul was anything but.

" . . . . I believe I already mentioned it earlier, yes? All flowers die eventually and the weeds......must be removed."

At that moment you remembered that tugging sensation that told you something felt off in some instances whenever you talked with Aizen. This must have been what it was. Damn it all. You still didn't understand exactly what bad things Central 46 and the Soul Society have done to cause his actions, but based on what you've been told and your current position, it must have been heinous. Again, you actively swallowed the urge to vomit.

"You . . . you lied. I can't believe━ how could it have all b-been a lie?" Another nasty cough rattled your body, followed by a shiver and a groan.

The brown-haired man slightly tilted his head, like he was truly confused. "Lied? Hmm, well. I suppose you could put it that way based on your limited knowledge of the circumstances, but I wouldn't put it that way. Besides, this isn't really about truth or lies. It is, and always has been, only about the reality of what is. And what is, is that you were unable to anticipate my deception. No one could, because it was outside the domain of your thoughts. What is, is that the current way the Soul Society operates is tainted, and I shall be the one to remedy it."

You drew another shuddering breath and looked down at the ground with a grim expression as your blood continued to pool at your feet. Briefly, you even considered unsheathing yourself from his blade and take the chance to make a run for it, but the chances of you making it to the outside world, let alone coming across someone before you bled out and died were slim. Besides, it was clear that you couldn't even trust your own senses anymore after Aizen demonstrated that he had complete control of your reality.

Which reminded you of something else.

" . . . when?" you asked the same question again, but much quieter than before, despair palpable in your voice. 'When and how did you subject me to your zanpakuto's Complete Hypnosis?', is what you were really asking. And being as intelligent as he was, the spectacled man understood.

Abruptly, with a large palm on the small of your back, Aizen used his gentle hold grip to pull you towards him in order to close the remaining distance, causing him to drive the remaining length of his zanpakuto all the way through until the tsuba of his blade rested against your stomach. You looked like a skewered piece of meat.

You didn't have the willpower to hold back the piercing shriek of agony and physical anguish as tears sprung forth from your eyes. You could no longer tell if your blurry vision was due to your tears obstructing your sight or if it was from being a step away from death's door.

"Do you remember . . . the first time we met?"

The hand that rested on your lower back slowly glided upwards until his fingers found your jaw. With a tenderness that reminded you of a time before his betrayal, he lifted your chin and guided your gaze to look at him directly. His thumb moved to graze your bottom lip just as you've done mere hours ago━ as if he knew that, as if he watched you do it. His thumb was dangerously close to slipping inside your mouth and that both excited and scared you. Your breasts against his, your breaths synchronized with his, your body and his were fully pressed against each other and it made focusing on his question more difficult.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The first time . . . we met? Sure, with a little bit of effort you could easily recall the first time you formally met Aizen. It was sometime in the spring, and you remembered him running through combat formations with his lieutenant and the rest of his squad. But why d━

A silent gasp left you. Another epiphany, another figurative blade piercing your heart.

Battle formations, and he . . . offered you to join them . . . his zanpakuto . . . . .

Confusion crumbled away, and was replaced with vacant horror and sadness. It seems you've already been defeated, for many, many years now.

Aizen seemed to murmur something under his breath, a pleased sound you couldn't quite decipher. His mouth brushed over yours, rendering you literally speechless, before he closed the distance and brought your lips together. You could barely process what was happening.

It was ironically tragic how soft and skillfully gentle his lips were against yours. The kiss felt longing, like a departure between two sweethearts and their last meeting together. It also felt heavy and final, making you want to cry.

And you did. Silent tears streamed from your eyes and rolled onto the fingers that still held your face so affectionately. The captain reacted by guiding your chin up a little further, dipping his head a little lower, so he could deepen the kiss. You weakly scorned yourself for thinking about how the two of you must really look like lovers now, sans the sword sticking out from your back.

Oh, how cruel this was; how cruel he was. It was cruel for him to kiss you like this, hand still splayed on your back like he needed to touch you stay sane. And how cruel it was that still managed to enjoy it, even as you stood there dying. Your lips moved together in tandem, slow and almost passionate, all while tears stained the apples of your cheeks, drying up the plush youth that once resided in them.

Aizen's tongue had slithered its way into your mouth, and you suddenly felt like crying harder. There was a tart, sweet flavor lingering on his tastebuds, and you absently wondered what is was. Perhaps hibiscus from tea, you surmised. And he too tasted the sweet jasmine and citrus that clung your tongue and lips. At this, he chuckled quietly into your mouth, humming before retracting from you by a few inches so he could speak.

"I knew you would like the tea. It's sweet and flavorful, isn't it?" You hated how low his voice was, how its timbre pleasurably vibrated and rumbled against your lips, and you hated that lidded stare he gave you. You again thought it unfair that you couldn't even revel in the rare sight of Aizen's lips slightly wet because your lips were intertwined with his.

"I have to thank you for humoring me and my recommendations. I really appreciated it. And I also," you winced loudly and cried out in affliction as Aizen finally began to withdraw the sword from your body, "must to bid you farewell now. It seems you don't have any more time left, and this has dragged on for longer than it needed. I'm not surprised you've held out for this long, as I already knew you possessed commendable strength. But alas it wasn't enough. I am sorry that you have to die; it's rather regrettable that you happened to be that blade of grass that ended up underneath my foot."

Another wail was yanked from your chest as he steadily removed his sword from your abdomen. The pain was becoming excruciating, you would have collapsed by now if the taller man weren't holding you.

You saw two things before the light in your eyes had all but faded away. The first were the colors of faux pity and apathy that swirled in Sōsuke Aizen's irises, spiraling like a storm that was certain to wreak havoc in its wake. His gaze was devoid of any regret or remorse; the final metaphorical nail on the coffin. The second was a small smile.

But this wasn't one of his smiles you were familiar with. No wait . . . . the one you knew was simply a veneer of what is.

This smile was slanted, the corners of his lips tilted upwards and was sharp. Sharp enough to cut open your already gaping wound further and completely tear you apart, spelling out your demise. It looked insidious as if it were hiding razor-edged fangs. This was what is; Aizen's real smile.

"I. . . I see. Aize. . . ." were the last words you were able to manage. You didn't have the strength to be upset or hurt any longer, so you gave in to the exhaustion.

Your body permanently relaxed, long lashes veiling your now empty eyes as your arms lifelessly dropped to your sides. The captain found a disturbing amount of pleasure in his name being the final word you attempted to speak before succumbing to the sleep of death.

And even after the fact, the facade of doomed, star-crossed lovers persisted as your body slumped backwards. Aizen's strong forearm wrapped tightly around your waist being the only reason you didn't fall to the ground in a puddle of your own blood.

That day was the last anyone saw of you, your zanpakuto still laid idly in your room, its spirit destined to forever wander in the afterlife between worlds alone, eventually fading from existence without ever feeling the presence of its master again.

They had declared you missing by the end of the next day. Lieutenant Hisagi was probably the most perturbed about your sudden disappearance. Days, weeks passed, and they never located you. The Gotei 13 was left unsettled by the lack of progress, but ultimately had to rule your case inconclusive. Some believed that you were simply killed by a stray hollow, or even ran away from your duties because of the stress.

The news of what happened spread like wildfire across all the squads, that a high-ranked officer just up and vanished without a trace. The spirits and morale of the thirteen companies dampened, sorrow and worry swelling like a festering boil.

And that boil burst when Ryoka infiltrated the Soul Society, and when it was revealed that all of it was carefully orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen.

Like a blade of grass that somehow snuck into one's sandals or in between their toes, during his time in Hueco Mundo, images of you flashed in his head at unexpected times when his mind was quiet. He'd remove the grass, tossed you aside, and moved on with his day. There was no room for you in the grand scheme of things. Such reminisces were beneath someone like him.

And yet.

He'd always find another piece of grass from the greenery he stepped on whenever he advanced a step in his plans. There you were again.

It was common knowledge that if you kept repeating the same action over and over, it will eventually wear you down.

━━━━━━ 鏡 ━━━━━━━

It was dark, and there was nothing.

There had been nothing for quite a long time now. Utter darkness and the abyssal shade of black engulfed every inch of Aizen's body and surroundings.

He saw nothing, the seals over his eyes too opaque to let anything through. And even if they weren't obscuring his vision, he would barely be able to see three feet in front of him; there was seldom a few lanterns in his cell to begin with. He felt nothing but the bindings that kept him imprisoned in one of the deepest pits of the Seireitei. At times it felt like even his internal organs had stilled in their functions. He heard nothing but the unrelenting quiet of his cell within Mugen's maw. The only thing that served as proof that he hasn't spontaneously grown deaf yet was the occasional muffled noise that originated from outside of the entrance. And even then, he could hardly hear much of anything.

Such is an ironic fate for someone who, with a stray thought and a glint of his blade, could control someone's senses and take away their free will to experience those senses in their reality. And now, he was stripped away of all of his in nearly every capacity.

Sōsuke Aizen was rendered stationary and stagnant, qualities he detested and were the antithesis of his ambitions and plans, perhaps even his existence.

Aizen had always believed in being in control of your own destiny and making your own choices; if you had the opportunity and the power to change something━ especially if it was something that was wrong, unfair or immoral━ then one should be able to move towards that goal by making change, even if by force. The former captain had always been intentional about his actions and his desires right from the start.

And yet, here he ended up.

Spending years strapped to a chair in this dark, cloistered hole, Aizen had nothing but time to reflect the reason for his arrest: that orange haired Ryoka boy, Ichigo Kurosaki. He had nothing but time to admit to himself and settle on the conclusion that his last battle with the substitute Shinigami . . . did something to him.

Fighting the Ryoka boy ignited something inside him that he previously believed would forever lay dormant.

The thrill of a challenge.

Adrenaline was injected into his veins with each clash of their swords, spreading far and wide across every inch of his body. It no longer reacted in the measured, calculative manner he had programmed it to, but with unadulterated, pure instinct and raw power━ all in an effort to not only withstand such potent spirit energy from his opponent, but to come out on top and win.

It made him feel alive.

Aizen's desire to be the victor in battle and in his philosophy━ to prove himself right━ both fueled him and consumed him so thoroughly it led to his own downfall. That was a rather difficult fact to acknowledge; so much so his head started to pulsate intensely whenever it crossed his mind one time too often.

All of it unfolded right in front of his eyes and yet . . . he didn't really see it happen.

As time passed during his perpetual incarceration, with hooded eyes, the former captain spent an unfathomable amount of time tossing and turning every single event that led him to this underground prison, even pondering his temporary release by the Head Captain Kyōraku to fight in the war. Scenarios both minor and significant displayed itself in front of his mind's eye as if he were watching a film.

Every so often, a blurred visage of your image would make a brief appearance, like the flickering sparks of a match before they were able to come to light, fading away into the void and were overshadowed by his other thoughts. It was as if his own consciousness and intentionally muted any manifestations of your existence in his memories. As if he wasn't able to or allowed to see them━ to remember you for too long.

Mentally reliving moments from the last several months, years, decades, centuries━ trying to analyze each moment and decipher where it could have went wrong━ turned out to be quite an exhausting task. His mind and body would grow heavier with inertia, and eventually he would succumb to the alluring pull of slumber. After some time he would rouse from his sleep, and continued from where he left off.

These were his daily activities day in and day out (even though he had trouble distinguishing day and night in his chambers) for years. He saw a positive side to it though. He'd instead think of it has him getting stronger because he had spent so long . . . thinking. Ruminating. Contemplating every possibility in the past, present, and future. His mind would become as sharp as his zanpakuto.

Aizen had always been intentional about what he did, what he said, and how he conducted himself. He was sure in his abilities to orchestrate an image━ a belief for others to have faith in, and act on it in order to further his goals. He was always sure in that image, knowing who he was and what he stood for.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

Aizen wasn't consciously aware that his certainty in this crafted image had already begun to waver. He could not and was unable to anticipate how severe these small fractures had become until after a certain lieutenant paid him a visit outside his cell of confinement, right before he was scheduled to be thrown back into that dark hole of the Mugen.

Lieutenant Shuhei Hisagi was quite emotive when he burst through the doors. His expressions were contorted in volatile mixture of frustration, anger and sadness. His emotions were every which way, directed at everything that has happened so far, including himself. He was especially emotive at Aizen specifically for what he did to former captain Kaname Tosen and 'corrupting him with his twisted ideals.'

Aizen found amusement in that.

Before he was rolled away by the punishment force and therefore out of earshot, a particular set of Hisagi's words caused the small, content smile on his lips to uncurl ever so slightly. "Everything . . . and everyone that has ever gotten themselves involved with you has been trampled on by you and your ideals one way or another, and they all end up dead. If you think what you did to Captain Tosen was justified━ to call it mercy . . . . . then there is truly no justice in this world. You will . . . forever be the enemy in my eyes."

There was a trembling anger in his voice. Pain that wanted to cry out and be set free but, the thin lid of reason prevented it from doing so. And after a moment of silence, the corners of Aizen's lips curved upwards once more. A little bemused, a little more wolfish this time. He maliciously imagined Hisagi's reaction if he ever discovered the true reason for your disappearance.

But instead, all he said was. "What an interesting thing to say, Shuhei Hisagi. Your conviction is admirable." Any evidence of emotion that might have been reflected in his sepia irises was swallowed up and obscured by the darkness of the Mugen's jaw.

The cracks in Aizen's sense of self, in his beliefs, in the image he invented started to cave under the weight of Hisagi's words before he himself realized it was happening. They were like stains in the fabric of his mind that refused to come out.

What puzzled him more, was that with each attempt to figure out just why Hisagi's words echoed in his mind, they all lead back to you, the third seat of the 9th squad. Annoyingly so.

The tattooed lieutenant hadn’t said anything particularly profound ━ at least, Aizen didn't think so. Your name didn’t even fall from his lips. So why were memories of you and your likeness the only clear thoughts he could make of Hisagi's speech? Was it because he was aware of how close the two of you were? He doubted the reason were that trivial and insignificant.

His thoughts grew more discordant by the day, his soul a little more weighted than usual. Perhaps these new seals that Urahara had fashioned actually had an effect on him, Aizen thought. It made sense. His intellect, other than his own, were the only ones capable of creating such effective restraints.

After a while, he had a revelation. This was a different kind of weight.

This heaviness, the closest word he knew to describe it as . . . . was loneliness.

Time taunted him as it seemed to drag on━ Aizen grew even less sure of how much━ when he came to this realization. Hisagi's words were a clear mirror to the loneliness that echoed within him after what happened to you and to Tosen. It was so . . . potent, that it seemed to strike some chord in Aizen he had never heard before.

Such a chord, this sound of loneliness, it was strange and uncomfortable; he wasn't very fond of this sensation. He'd try to scrub it away, but it was all for naught.

His eyes had slid shut at some point, his ruminations leading to dead ends and wearing him down. And, almost as expected, there you were again, in all your translucent glory. The hem, the sleeves, and even the smell of your yukata slowly dragged across his dreams, haunting his thoughts like a lonely wraith.

And Aizen hardly dreamt of anything.

When he regained consciousness he was plagued with yet another epiphany. An additional reason behind this newfound depth.

Aizen's own loneliness. Guilt. Much to his own quiet horror.

How foreign and unusual a thing like guilt is. It was like looking into a mirror and not recognizing something you had never noticed before, but wondered if it had always been there.

But the thing Aizen did recognize, how lonely he actually felt, was something he had hoped would never resurface again. It was a notion he hadn't had the time or regard to consider━ 'loneliness'. Its only purpose, if any, was solely to serve as a motivator. At times though, it was more like a hindrance.

Something akin to nausea slowly started to bubble up in the pit of his stomach, but he suppressed the sensation before it became any more intense.

What of his previous actions did he need to feel guilty for? He hadn't felt it then, so why would he feel it now? Again he ruminated such a question endlessly into oblivion.

The former captain had no doubts that his plan to remove the Soul King, and therefore the Soul Society's sins, were necessary.

Nor did any hesitancy about removing the opposition or dead weight━ whether shinigami or arrancar━ existed.

He certainly had no reservations against killing Kaname Tosen, for he knew the man well enough to know that Tosen would have been so thoroughly appalled with what he had become, it would have drove him mad.

So what was it, then? Why were such useless emotions as guilt and loneliness being amplified n━

"Y....know, S....."

Even covered by the seals, Aizen's eyes widened and his brows were slightly furrowed in distress. Had his mind finally tipped the scales of sanity and madness, to the point where he was hearing things?

It was quiet for several moments longer, before his senses caught onto the sound of water dripping onto a hard surface.

One drop at a time.

Its cadence a little too rhythmic to be natural. And for a second time, he heard that soft, ominous sounding whisper. Its voice a little clearer this time.

"You...know.....Sōsuke."

In the second it took for his eyes to flutter shut behind its seals to blink, when he reopened them, he was no longer sealed to the walls and floors of the Mugen, nor was he surrounded by every shade of darkness imaginable. His limbs and senses were finally freed to breathe for the first time in what felt like ages.

That relief was short-lived when his senses absorbed the unending landscape of water underneath his feet, water lilies lifelessly floating on its surface, and the dim sky illuminated by a full pale moon.

Aizen was in his inner world, and now he was aware of how he got here, or rather who brought him here.

"You . . . already know the answer to that question, Sōsuke." The voice was even more clear, its sentences more comprehensible. And it sounded it eerily like you.

Why the voice was impersonating your likeness had caught him off guard for half a second, but he realized it was only the work of his zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu.

An illusion it may be, there was an untouchable quality about your voice and how you spoke that even Kyoka Suigetsu couldn't replicate.

A few feet away from him, the water was disturbed by a being emerging from the depths. Ripples formed around a manifested version of his zanpakuto, who took the form of you, smiling ever so gently. The smile felt airy, and it didn't seem like the same one that haunted his dreams and every waking thought as of late. It felt....knowing.

Still, the former captain couldn't be bothered to maintain eye contact with his sword spirit, so he turned around and opted to keep his unreadable stare trained on the vast expanse of water and white lilies.

"It's been quite a while since I have stepped foot into this realm. There must be something you want . . . Kyoka."

The zanpakuto chuckled, it sounded like the way you would softly laugh at one of his clever quips. But this wasn't you.

He didn’t want to admit that something about that fact didn’t sit right with him.

"Judging from your tone, would I be correct in assuming you don't want to be here?"

Silence rang out within the soul scape, before Aizen interrupted it, his gentle voice colored a shade darker, and a little rigid. "And I fail to see the reason why you must take that form when you revealed yourself to me. Is your aim to get a reaction out of me? Or something along those lines?"

Your eyes━ the eyes of Kyoka Suigetsu━ narrowed at its master's back, as if they were trying to create concavities in his skull. But the expression was washed away the moment it appeared, the serene smile from before was back in place.

"You know . . . it's considered quite rude to not look at someone when you're addressing them. That, and when you deliberately ignore things they say. Your manners have been deteriorating, Sōsuke. Tsk, tsk."

Kyoka-dressed-as-you suddenly appeared before him, as if they had teleported. Even when they were in his peripheral vision, Aizen still maintained his stare off into the distant nothingness.

"Unless, you can't find it in yourself to look at me. . . that's correct, isn't it? It's because I look exactly like her, right?" The zanpakuto continued to provoke him, taking a step closer into his personal space.

With an exasperated sigh, his eyelids fell shut for a second, using that time to gather the strength he didn't know he needed, and directed his gaze to meet his spirit's. Aizen's face gave nothing away, but his heart lurched about his chest when his bronze eyes met with yours, or what was made to look like yours. The undesired affect it had on him was all the same.

"If you wish to chastise me about manners, I suggest you take your own advice. You didn't answer my first question, either: what is it you want? Why am I here?" Again the former captain chose to not address the other parts of Kyoka's statement. For the sake of his sanity and his thinning patience━ or was it to preserve his resolve?

Its smile widened a bit, moving another step closer to their master. God, Kyoka even smelled like you, mimicking your signature honeyed scent that Aizen didn't realize he found so intoxicating until this very moment.

"I called you here to save you from yourself."

Aizen remained silent, only narrowing his eyes in speculation. "Meaning?"

"Didn't I already say it earlier? I think you already know what I'm talking about, Sōsuke. You've always known."

Fate's pairing of Kyoka Suigetsu with Aizen was a match crafted from the spindles of heaven, but also a maddening curse pulled from the depths of hell, for they complimented each other a little too well. The zanpakuto was too perfect a reflection of Aizen and his soul, looking at it started to hurt his eyes.

His sword spirit insisted that he already knew the reason for his coming here, and perhaps he did have an inkling the moment the light of epiphany was shone on his profound loneliness and guilt. But that couldn't have been what it was referring to . . . . could it?

"You cannot feign ignorance here, my dear Sōsuke, however I do find it rather humorous you bother trying. If you'd like, I don't mind humoring you by spelling it out for you. I'd be glad to unearth the truth that you have buried in the most neglected corner of your heart."

"When you were . . . . subjecting yourself to such mental torment, it had an affect on this world as well. The ripples, the waves in this scape become quite . . . tumultuous." The nuances in your voice were perfected by his zanpakuto, but the way it talked sounded like a fog that was gradually closing in from over the horizon. The uneasy feeling that resided in his chest traveled down to his stomach, but Aizen's face remained steely, even when Kyoka Suigetsu took that final step to close the gap in between them. "And the reason for that, the reason why Hisagi's words rattled you so is because you regret killing that woman."

The creased line in Aizen's brow grew more prominent as he stared down his sentient sword spirit. With its breast pressed against his, they placed a hand on his clothed chest in a tantalizing manner, but he felt nothing. There was no warmth from its palm, much unlike when your hand touched him. There wasn't even a cool sensation either. Even minutes before your death, your touch brought a soothing heat that permeated through his shihakusho and penetrated his skin.

Kyoka's face grew nearer, their smile━ although still tender looking━ grew cold at its edges, nearly resembling that of a predator eager to see despair reflected in the eyes of its prey. It didn't fit the graceful allure of your face at all, and seeing this expression deeply unsettled the former captain more than he would like to admit.

"You regret . . . killing me."

A chill tore through Aizen's body, the weight of Kyoka's words adding onto the heaviness that still hasn't been alleviated from his heart; he was hardly able to suppress the involuntary shiver.

Without warning, Kyoka's mouth suddenly became dangerously close to their master's, its lips brushing against his in a provocative manner. Aizen's expression darkened when he realized that it was reenacting his last encounter with you when you were alive. His mouth started to grow uncomfortably dry, despite his soul scape being full of moisture, and there was a taste on the back of his tongue that's been lingering there since he arrived.

The lilt in Kyoka's tone continued to taunt him. "That is the reason for your guilt: regret. You have been in denial. And in the spirit of unearthing truths, I suppose I can admit that perhaps . . . . I've been . . . . encouraging said delusions, adding drops of fuel into the flames of your emotions and ambitions. But after all that's happened, when it comes down to it there's no point in continuing this hallucination any longer. I've grown tired of this game, so it's time to for you wake up now, Sōsuke. I've brought you here to release you from your own illusion, to completely shatter it."

Aizen's back was as stiff as a board, not moving a millimeter when Kyoka's lips grazed his again. They were breathing softly onto his mouth, but he hardly felt any puffs of air.

The former captain was having a rather difficult time processing the fact that his zanpakuto had its own agenda and had been manipulating his emotions without him noticing. Specifically the emotions he felt towards you.

He never truly believed that such a thing was possible, one's own blade having such a deep-rooted influence━ no, control over their master. Or would it be more accurate to say that he never expected himself to be controlled to such a degree? He that prided himself on being freed from the marionette strings of fate that were tied to his limbs and mind, he that relished being able to do what he wanted, think what he wanted, feel what he wanted━ or what he didn't want━ it was hard to believe that none of that mattered in the end.

Kyoka Suigetsu's deceptive abilities were indeed undeniably perfect. No one, not even Aizen himself could have anticipated that Kyoka's most absolute and complete hypnosis would be enacted on himself.

"Do you know now, Sōsuke? Do you understand?" Kyoka's voice was as soft as a whisper, but it couldn't hide the edges of its tone that were still sharpened from finding amusement of seeing the truth flash across its master's face. "You had destroyed the solution to your existential question of loneliness, before you could fully understand the question itself."

Yes . . . . . Aizen understood now.

He didn't bother acknowledging what Kyoka had said. His grim facial expression━ still, tinged with dolor, and paired with an indescribable, distant look his eyes━ said all that it needed to. His silence was as much as an admission as any.

Kyoka-dressed-as-you leaned forward again to fully close the gap between their lips and Aizen's. Tenderly, like the intentions of a lover, it spoke against his nearly closed mouth. "Have you figured it out yet?"

Nothing but quiet could be heard between them, as Kyoka's mouth moved about their master's face and placed something like kisses upon its surface, but not quite.

Aizen's cocoa-shaded eyes slide down to stare at his sword spirit pressed up against him. His gaze was hard, and yet something swam underneath its surface that his zanpakuto had never seen before. Melancholy, it guessed? They weren't quite sure.

Kyoka pressed on when Aizen remained quiet. "The taste in the back of your mouth. Have you figured out what it was? You know it quite well....."

Aizen's tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, sensing the rather unpleasant taste that has coated the inside of it. And within a moment, because he was faced with the current circumstances, Aizen had finally placed a name associated this particular taste. How unfortunate this was.

Upon his realization, Aizen's head lowered, and his brown tresses hung freely over his lashes. Perhaps it was so Kyoka couldn't properly see whatever remorseful expression painted their master's face, but it mattered not. Even from here, the sword spirit could already sense exactly what it was he was feeling.

And they loved it.

"It's a sweet and flavorful taste, isn't it? Quite lovely." Kyoka Suigetsu mimicked the exact words he uttered against your lips all those years ago when he tasted jasmine tea on your tongue, and sealed your death with a kiss. "It's too bad you don't seem to enjoy it anymore."

Aizen's chest continued to rise and fall calmly, and the hands of his sword spirit that rested there glided upwards to cup his strong jaw, caressing his skin with its thumb. Its phantasmic touch did nothing to stir their master.

"Sōsuke, do you know what the jasmine flower from that tea symbolizes?"

Aizen's lips were slightly parted, but again he didn't say anything. Instead, its corners twitched and lifted upwards by an inch, and he huffed softly.

Kyoka Suigetsu grinned in reply. "Good."

The next time Aizen blinked, he was plunged in darkness yet again. The restrictive feeling that swallowed his being whole had returned, and was an indicator that his zanpakuto had released him from his inner world. He was consciously back in the Mugen, back in this abyss they called a prison cell.

Kyoka was indeed as much as a formidable force in its own right, as much as, if not greater than Aizen himself.

The conversation he had with his sword spirit would be cemented in his head for all eternity. When he grew senile and began to physically wither away, the one thing that would remain vital like a young heart, was this epiphany that he had. This realization that he actually . . . .

As the chains of despair bound him tighter to the bottom of the metaphorical pit, regret and his loneliness corroding his flesh and spirit like metal exposed to moisture, a stray memory of his time in Hueco Mundo flashed in his mind. He recalled having tea prepared for meetings with his Espadas and he could not pinpoint when, but at some point, Aizen developed an aversion for jasmine flavored tea. For one reason or another, he no longer found its taste appealing; whenever he drank it, it always tasted bitter.

Now that reason had become painstakingly clear.

The binding on his mouth muffled a rueful chuckle at the though, and it trapped the flavor of jasmine on his lips.

(#) @soaringmirror @stygianoir @ryukenzz @blkjupiters @chrissie2003 @nymphoheretic @dejwrld @triangularz @souyaszn @kuujo @honeybleed @valentineluvu . let me know if you’d like to be apart of my tag list ♡♡.

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umemiyan · 1 year

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can i request pussydrunk virgin!yuji 🫣 ik that your first time w him is so soft

𝙃𝙔𝙋𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙄𝙕𝙀𝘿.

𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗝𝗜 𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗗𝗢𝗥𝗜 𝗫 𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗕!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / established relationship / virgin!yuuji / no pronouns for reader / unprotected piv sex / creampie, a smidge of yuuji with a praise kink / 1.3k words

absolutely!!! tysm for sending this in. i've been slowly chipping away at it over the last few days lol, and i hope i managed to do yuuji a little bit of justice in my first piece for him! gotta start somewhere, am i right?

It starts with a relatively chaste kiss on the couch in the middle of a movie (Human Earthworm 2, to be exact), but it isn’t long before a small peck snowballs into hungry, open-mouthed kisses that leave the two of you gasping for air in between. Yuuji’s cheeks match the color of his hair and he’s already straining in his pants, dripping with youthful desperation. He’s thought about this moment an alarming number of times while lying alone in bed at night, anticipating the day it might truly happen. He would dream up an explicit scenario and stroke himself to sleep, desire overriding the shame of imagining your heat taking every last inch of him for the first time, and now, it seems like it may finally be a possibility.

Yuuji usually does his best to be a gentleman, but the lustful way your tongue occupies his mouth has him moaning and gripping at your thigh for dear life, tightly pressing against you and wishing he could practically crawl into your skin just to feel you closer. He doesn’t want to be sitting beside you anymore—he wants to be on top of you, underneath you, inside you more than he can properly articulate.

You can’t help but notice the way he feverishly squirms, and you’re beginning to feel quite impatient yourself. “Are you okay with this, Yuuji?” you ask, not wanting to push him in a direction that he isn’t prepared to go in.

He nods eagerly, itching to reattach himself to your lips. “Yeah… yeah, ‘m definitely okay with this,” Yuuji responds hastily, breathlessly.

You pet at his pastel locks and look him in the eye, your voice soft yet serious. “Do you wanna go into my bedroom?”

His golden eyes widen as he gulps, but then he’s silently nodding and letting you lead him to the bed.

Your lips are on his as soon as he sits on the mattress, and you do him the favor of removing your shirt so that he can ogle your breasts as though they’re the most interesting things he’s ever seen (because they are). You don’t have to ask twice for him to peel his own shirt off because he’s practically jumping for joy at the opportunity to do so, longing to feel your chest press against his with nothing in between.

You admire the toned structure of his body, fingertips dipping along his abs while a strong hand of his own comes up to palm at your breast. He marvels at the feeling, a boyish glee pulsing through his veins as he fondles you uninhibited. It’s so sincere that you simply can’t take issue with it; in fact, it only serves to arouse you that much more.

“You feel amazing,” Yuuji says as his hands continue to roam your body, soaking in the texture of your skin through his fingertips. He even dares to tweak a nipple, oh so eager to draw every possible reaction from your body despite his lack of experience.

You chuckle at the awe in his voice and body language. “I know what would feel even more amazing.”

It isn’t long before you have him stripped bare with his pretty head on the pillow, gazing up at you as you promptly straddle his waist. You’re like an ethereal being to him, and his hands instinctively move to rest upon your hips, ever eager to latch onto the mesmerizing warmth of your bare skin. What’s even more mesmerizing is the warmth of your cunt as it shifts closer to his throbbing length, hovering over it with the promise of complete and utter euphoria.

You lean forward to kiss him once more before asking, “Are you ready?”

Yuuji nods and grips your hips a little tighter, his heart racing in his chest as you breathe against him. “Yeah.”

Reaching a hand down between your bodies, you gently take hold of his cock and slide the tip of it between your folds, earning a shiver from him as it’s coated with slick and settling just at your entrance. His eyes never leave yours throughout, but they’re already starting to go glassy from the sensation of your dripping arousal against him.

Without further ado, you finally let him breach you, sinking down onto his girth little by little until you’re finally seated and being stretched completely from the inside. Yuuji lets out a moan at the feeling of you surrounding him so tightly, the pleasure unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He needs more.

“Fuuuuck,” he curses breathlessly, already in a borderline hypnotized state.

You rise up and start to bounce your hips after a moment of adjustment, breath hitching as he fills you over and over and looks at you with a gratefulness that sears itself into your memory. You place a hand on his chest and feel his thudding heart within while his cock prods deeper into you than you thought possible.

“Fuck, Yuuji,” you say with a furrowed brow, sweat already working its way to the surface of your skin as you increase the pace of your hips. Meanwhile, Yuuji already looks properly fucked out, eyelids heavy and jaw slacked with bliss. If you focus on anything other than the feeling of him stretching you out, you’d notice that his fingers are practically bruising the skin on your hips.

His eyes move down from your face to watch your tits bounce with every motion, and this stokes the fire in his belly to burn hotter than he could ever imagine. Almost mindlessly, Yuuji’s hips suddenly begin to work up against yours in a desperate rhythm, chasing after something that he can hardly even comprehend at this point. His mind feels hazy—empty, even, save for the all-consuming desire to be as deep in you as possible, filling you completely and tasting everything that you have to offer.

The volume of both your moans rises each time your bodies meet, and he feels so incredible with every stroke that you’re compelled to let him know. “Feels s’good, Yuuji. You’re so good.”

He gives a loud groan at that, eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head as your praise takes hold of him. Your efforts are hardly required anymore, hips no longer needing to drop down onto his as he takes the notion to slam up into you instead, drunk determination in his beautiful eyes and a trickle of drool shamelessly sliding from the corner of his mouth.

“Gonna cum,” he warns, no longer able to hold himself back but completely incapable of stopping either.

“Go ahead,” you tell him without a second thought, “cum for me.”

“I-inside?” he asks in his final moments of self-control.

You circle a finger around your clit and clench around him with a hasty nod. “Mhm. Inside.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. Yuuji holds his breath as his cock starts pulsing inside you, then he lets out a series of appreciative moans, head spinning with the intensity of his orgasm. You continue furiously stroking your clit, using your last bit of strength to roll your hips as he fills you up and starts to go limp, until you’re finally overcome with the blinding pleasure of your own high. It wracks you and takes you down to rest on his chest as he heaves for air and your body trembles against him.

Yuuji’s hands move to hold the small of your back, and you peer up at his dopey face with an interesting look of your own.

“I think that was the greatest moment of my entire life,” he manages to say, and you break out into a small fit of laughter.

“Well, I’m glad enjoyed yourself.” You bring a hand up to wipe away the drool and sweat from his face.

“Did you?” He asks, genuinely curious with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Oh yeah,” you reply, grinning with a flavor of mischief. “Absolutely.”

#yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori smut #yuji itadori x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #my writing.#re: yuuji itadori

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beginningofwonderland · 1 year

Text

Angel - Park Seonghwa

Pairing: domSeonghwaxfemReader

Genre: smut (MINORS DNI!)

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: During a gaming session with your best friend San you admit to him that your boyfriend Seonghwa is too soft to you. You complain about his angel persona and want him to fuck you right instead. To your demise, Seonghwa accidentally listened in on your conversation and is now determined to make all your wishes come true.

Warnings: establishing a safeword but NO USE of that safeword, rough sex, oral sex (both receiving), deep-throating, choking, unprotected sex (don't do this!!), creampie, dumbification

Seonghwa littered soft kisses from your jaw to your lips and smiled at you like the human incarnation of sunshine.

"You feel good now, baby?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yes, I do angel." You nuzzled your head into his shoulder in response.

You did feel good. After a cuddly makeout session that had turned steamy in the laziness of a saturday morning Seonghwa had just finished eating you out for what felt like hours. He was an expert with his tongue, making you come multiple times until you had to pull him away from your sensitive core because he would go on forever if he could.

But still you felt like something was missing. With the way he always held onto you like a delicate flower, his fingers merely ghosting over your skin. Sometimes you wished for them to just grab you, to leave you bruised and crying beneath him until you couldn't take any more.

You and Seonghwa were still a relatively new thing and you were sure he had this cute little image of you inside his head that you were afraid to destroy. But deep down inside, you just wanted him to treat you more roughly when it came to the bedroom.

"I'll make us some coffee," he pulled you from your dirty thoughts and you released him from your hug so that he could get out of bed. When he left the room, you sighed. You had tried to give him hints before, telling him to go harder, moving your own hands on top of his to squeeze your skin, but he continued treating you like fine porcelain.

You soon got dressed and joined Seonghwa to make some breakfast. You two shared pancakes in the morning sunlight that fell through the wall length windows in Seonghwa's apartment as you talked about your plans for the day.

"I have a meeting with Hongjoong and then I'll have to run some errands today," Seonghwa explained. "I won't be back before dinner."

"Then I'll meet up with San online for some gaming later. We haven't been able to play in ages." Since San had moved to the other end of town, you two met online more often than in real life and usually used that time to catch up on each other and discuss the hottest gossip. You two had been best friends for years and you had actually met Seonghwa through him.

"That sounds good. Say 'hi' to him from me."

You finished your breakfast and Seonghwa soon left for his appointment with Hongjoong. You started off your day slowly and watched some Netflix before taking a shower and getting dressed. You usually stayed at Seonghwa's place over the weekend since he had the bigger and much nicer apartment out of the two of you.

He even let you make your own little gaming area in his office room where you could play when you stayed at his place. You got yourself a cold drink and finally settled into his comfortable office chair to go online and play with San. He had agreed to meet up only minutes after you had texted him. He usually stayed in on the weekends anyway.

"Hey Sannie," you greeted him through your headset as soon as you joined the call with him.

"Helloooo," he answered in a bright spirit.

You two started setting up the game and soon joined the first match while exchanging small talk. It was a comfortable routine for both of you. Somehow talking to each other while busying yourself with a game just made everything easier. Before you even noticed, you two were already playing for hours.

"So how is it really going right now, San?" You asked during an annoyingly long loading screen. "How is living with Wooyoung?"

A deep sigh was hearable through San's microphone. "He's being Wooyoung, like always. But lately he got into cooking so at least I get meals now to compensate for his annoying ass."

You laughed at his whiny tone. You knew how the two friends were around each other; always teasing and annoying each other but still inseparable. "Just don't fight over a stupid puzzle again. I'm sick of finding pieces whenever I visit you two."

San chuckled at the memory of how he and Wooyoung had thrown puzzle pieces at each other in a petty fight. "And how is it going with Seonghwa?" he asked in return.

"Good," you answered. Your mind couldn't help but wander to the worries you had had just this morning.

"Oh god what is it?" San asked in a panicked tone.

"What do you mean? I said good!" You tried to defend yourself.

"Yeah, but you should've heard yourself saying it. Terrible would've sounded nicer."

You groaned in frustration. You didn't mean to make it sound that bad.

"What is it?" San pressed on. "Cause I swear to god if he treats you badly I will collect Wooyoung and we will kick his ass-"

"He treats me very well, don't worry," you interrupted San before he could get any more dumb ideas.

"You sure?" the man asked sceptically. The next match finally started and you didn't even realize your rambling as you answered him.

"Yeah, in fact he is a literal angel. He already knows all my favourite candies and brings me some everytime he visits the store. He always lets me choose what to watch even if he hates the cheesy horror movies I like. I mean he basically let me turn his office into a gaming room for me."

"I'm happy to hear that. But what is the problem then?" San asked with confusion evident in his voice. "Does he not fuck you right?"

You didn't want to admit to it but the prolonged silence spoke volumes. San laughed at the other end of the call.

"Damn, and I always thought he had it in him. He acts like he does at least. You two do fuck, right?"

San couldn't see but you blushed helplessly in front of the monitor. "Yes, we do. God this is embarrassing."

"How is this embarrassing? You always told me about your dates before Seonghwa. In detail," San argued with you while quite literally saving your life in the match you couldn't concentrate on any more.

"That was fine because you didn't know any of those guys. But you've known Seonghwa longer than I do and this is... embarrassing."

"You're being annoying. You can talk to me Y/n. Maybe I can help," he tried to coerce you into spitting out your problem. "Also I'm nosy. So what's the problem?"

What you didn't notice was that Seonghwa had already returned to the apartment. He had made an effort to open the door as silently as possible. He knew you would still be gaming with San and wanted to surprise you with a self-cooked dinner after you were done. He had sped through all his errands, so that he could come home earlier.

After returning he couldn't resist to check in on you for a second. He wanted to make sure you hadn't noticed his early return and also get another glance at you before preparing dinner. You always looked so cute at his desk with your headset and controller.

He cracked open the door to his office carefully. As expected, you were completely focussed on the game and didn't notice a thing. His eyes flitted over your tight crop top and the sweat shorts you were wearing in the heat and his mind already started wandering places at the sight of your glistening skin. What he didn't expect was what you were talking about.

"The problem is that he treats me a little to well."

Is she talking about me?

Seonghwa was stunned into his place. He knew he shouldn't eavesdrop but he couldn't resist staying a little longer to hear what else you had to say.

"I think you'll need to elaborate on that," San replied audibly confused.

"He treats me like a porcelain doll!" you finally admitted. "I think he has this image of me as his cute, innocent girl that he doesn't want to hurt. But I really wished he would just fuck me without holding back."

San chuckled at the other end of the call. Meanwhile Seonghwa was frozen into his spot. He couldn't believe his own ears. He would've never guessed that this was what you wanted and was surprised by your words.

But more than that he felt a burning heat spread through his whole body as he processed what you said. You wanted him to have his way with you without holding back. The thought made him dizzy.

Ever since you two were together that was exactly what he had been doing: holding back. He thought that you deserved someone that loved you tenderly and carefully. So he tried his best to be that person.

"That sounds like you should just talk to him," San replied after some pondering.

" know," you said. "I want to tell him but I don't know how. It's kind of hard to bring up..."

Seonghwa swallowed hard as he felt bad that you were afraid to speak up to him. You were right. He didn't want to hurt you because he couldn't stand the thought of you hurting. But now that he knew that was exactly what you wanted... he felt every little bit of self control leave his body. He left his place at the door before he could fuck you right there in his office chair and closed the door silently behind him. He had different plans with you.

"I'm afraid he might not like it," you shyly added to San in the silence.

"Trust me," San snickered. "He is heads over heels for you. He won't push you away. Also I happen to know Seonghwa well enough to assure you, that's exactly what he likes."

You smiled at San's reassuring words and you two continued your game. Talking to him had actually made you feel better. You planned on talking to Seonghwa as soon as the opportunity came up.

----------------------------------

You put the controller back into the drawer which Seonghwa kept free for only you and stretched your limbs after getting out of the chair. You had played longer than expected but it was nice to catch up with San.

Just as you made your way into the living room to maybe watch some more Netflix until Seonghwa returned, you heard some rumbling in the kitchen. The noise took you by surprise and you got scared for a second, thinking it might be an intruder.

"Hwa?" you called out carefully and wandered towards the kitchen. Your heartbeat quickened when noone answered you.

You turned the corner only to see Seonghwa deeply in thought apparently concentrating on the stir fry in front of him. You relaxed as you saw him standing in the kitchen and not a robber.

"You're home already! Why didn't you come say hi to me?" you asked cutely and wrapped your arms around his torso careful not to interrupt his cooking.

He looked down at you almost like in a haze and it took a few seconds before he answered.

"I didn't want to interrupt your gaming session so I thought I'd cook us some dinner."

"That's very nice of you," you said and placed a tender kiss on his cheek. He really did treat you so well. You should talk to him after dinner.

But Seonghwa still seemed to be caught up in something. His eyes stared into the frying pan blankly and his hand stirred in a robotic motion. You eyed him carefully, wondering what could be going on in his head.

"Is everything okay, Hwa?" you asked him worriedly.

In response Seonghwa seemed to snap out of his focus and smiled at you: "Of course, sweetheart."

But his answer sounded posed, his voice a little too melodious as he tried sounding happy. You let it slide for now, not wanting to push him, maybe you were over-interpreting his behaviour.

What you couldn't know was that Seonghwa had spent every single second since he heard you talking to San imagining the things he wanted to do to you. His hand moved without him even noticing as he prepared the meal but his mind was all over the places he wanted to fuck you in now that he knew how much you wanted him to ruin you.

All of the possibilities clouded his mind and he found himself almost a little mad at you for not speaking up to him. All he wanted was for you to be happy but you would have to let him.

Both of you set the table and Seonghwa finished cooking dinner. You two settled down in an unusual silence as he started to fill your plate.

"How was your meeting with Hongjoong?" you asked, trying to get him to talk.

"Good," Seonghwa answered once again, his mind miles away from the meeting with his friend. In fact he couldn't even remember what they had talked about anymore.

His short reply worried you even more. "Are you sure, you're okay, Hwa? I feel like there's something you're not telling me."

Before he could hold himself back Seonghwa huffed out a breath of air and looked at you with a glint in his eyes. The intensity his gaze suddenly held took you by surprise.

"You think there's something I am not telling you?" he asked you back with a cocked up eyebrow. He was still standing while you had already sat down and his hands now came down onto the table to support himself as he looked at you with dark eyes.

A cold shiver ran over your skin by the insinuation of his words. What was he talking about?

"What do you mean, angel?" you asked him in confusion.

Seonghwa slowly made his way over to you, his eyes fixed on yours like you were his prey. He stopped only inches before you before bending down to be at eye level with you. You could feel his hot breath on your lips.

"Angel. That's the problem about me isn't it? I'm too nice to you aren't I?" he asked with a pitying voice. He wasn't actually mad at you, but your question had stirred the tiniest bit of anger within him that mixed with all the held back sexual desire he had for you after overhearing your talk to San.

You couldn't answer him. How did he find out about what you had only just admitted to your best friend? Every sound got stuck in the back of your throat as Seonghwa stared at you so intensely. The way he hovered above you excited you wildly.

Your boyfriend seemed to take pity on you as he answered your unasked question: "I wanted to see if you were still playing with San when I overheard your little conversation."

A rush of embarrassment ran through you and you lowered your head to hide the blush on your cheeks. But at the same time you got excited. Judging from his behaviour he must have overheard the most important part. When he laid a finger under your chin to lift your head back up, you were already putty in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Hwa. I swear I wanted to talk to you about it," you started apologizing before he even asked you to. An amused grin spread over Seonghwa's handsome features and a small chuckle left him.

"And when exactly, princess? After I eat you out again for hours and you tell me you feel perfect? Did you lie to me too?"

He knew he was getting cruel but the way your eyes widened and you looked at him through those puppy eyes, he was sure he was pushing exactly the right buttons. The panic in your eyes only added to the burning desire inside of him.

"No! I didn't lie to you, Seonghwa! You are so good with your tongue, please I'm sorry." You almost stumbled over your words, eager to calm down the flames behind his hungry eyes.

"Sorry for what exactly? Tell me and I might forgive you." He said those last words slowly, almost in a whisper. Like he wasn't really sure about the idea of forgiving you.

"I'm sorry for not telling you what I want."

"And what is it that you want?" A dangerous smirk spread on his face. He wanted you to say it. Wanted to hear your pretty little voice repeat the words you had spoken to San before.

"I want you to be more rough with me," you almost whispered in admittance as you couldn't help but get shy under his stare.

"What did you say, baby? I couldn't hear you." His hand tightened it's grip on your chin and you almost moaned, already arching your back a little under his touch.

"I want you to be more rough with me, Seonghwa," you repeated louder this time, eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

"No, no. Exactly what you said before, baby!"

You had to rummage through your memory for a second before you could recall the words, you had spoken to San before:

"I really want you to just fuck me without holding back."

"Good girl," he hummed out and you couldn't help but shudder. "Now was that so hard? You know I couldn't help but get a little mad at you for telling San but not me. But now that you already look so pliant for me I can't really hold a grudge."

You swallowed and looked at him expectantly.

"So I can have my way with you now, beautiful?" he asked eagerly, eyes darkening by the second.

"Please," you answered already desperate for him to touch you. You never knew Seonghwa could be this way, but his dominant behaviour already drove you to insanity. If you had known, you would've told him way earlier about your desires.

"Then there's just one more thing," his expression suddenly turned soft again. "I need you to choose a safe word in case I get too much for you. If I make you uncomfortable in any way I want you to stop me. Okay, baby?"

You nodded at him with warm eyes. He made you feel so incredible safe. "How about eavesdropping?"

"You really want me to punish you, don't you?" Seonghwa said in a low tone and lifted your chin just a tiny bit more to show you who was in charge.

"I'm sorry, I'm just joking. I'll go with..." Your eyes flitted across the room in search for a useful word: "sunset."

Seonghwa smiled at you: "Better." Then his eyes darkened again and the warm smile dropped from his face as he looked you up and down.

"You know what I always wanted to do with you?" he asked tauntingly, his thumb running over your bottom lip and his eyes following its trail.

You gave a small shake of your head to show him you didn't know the answer. A smirk tugged on one end of his lips in response.

"You know how much I love it when you're giving me blowjobs, don't you? But I always wanted to fuck your pretty little mouth and make you choke on my cock until you can't breath anymore."

His direct words sent a jolt of electricity through your body and you couldn't stop a moan escaping your lips. His eyes flitted up to yours in surprise at the sound.

"So eager already? Then how about we make that your punishment for not telling me what you actually want, princess?"

You nodded quickly: "Please."

He huffed at you. "Please what, baby? It looks like I need to teach you how to talk properly from now on."

"Please choke me on your cock," you replied shamelessly, eyes blown wide as you stared at him from beneath.

Seonghwa groaned at your words and suddenly he grabbed you by your shoulders and shoved you down to the floor on your knees. He observed you cautiously, worried he might be too rough with you but the fire in your eyes only lit up more as he manhandled you onto the ground.

"Get those pants off of me unless you want me to edge you all night, will you, baby?"

Your hands scrambled to open his belt and jeans in an embarrassingly fast tempo. As you pulled his pants and underwear down, you were surprised to see that he was already fully hard. You would have never thought that your little talk had already turned him on so much.

You grabbed his length eagerly and looking up at him through hooded eyes you started slowly licking along the tip. Seonghwa's eyes fluttered in response and his hand weaved into your hair, to get a firm grip on your head.

"If I were you I wouldn't tease me that much," he grunted out as you continued your kitten licks on his tip. The dark glow in his eyes made your heart race and you quickly took him fully into your mouth.

Seonghwa was rather long and you couldn't fit him into you completely without choking. You did your best to take him as deep as you could but you already felt him hit the back of your throat.

"Am I too big for my small little girl?" he asked tauntingly, pushing you onto him just a tiny bit deeper, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You never knew you would enjoy the feeling of his cock pressing down your throat so much. But maybe it was just the general idea of him using you like he pleased that turned you on so much that your panties were already soaking.

Holding tightly onto your hair, he started fucking himself into your mouth. Seonghwa started off slowly but as you met his thrusts eagerly he sped up his tempo quickly. Soon your eyes fell shut as choked moans reverberated through your throat along his cock. Both your hands grabbed onto his thighs for some kind of hold.

Your whiny noises and the eagerness which with you sucked his dick surprised Seonghwa. He never expected you to be so into it, but as he watched you fall apart on his cock without even getting pleasured yourself, he soon started throbbing in your mouth with an impending orgasm.

Tugging firmly on your hair, he removed your lips from his cock and watched a line of spit trail down your chin as you opened your eyes. The fucked out look on your face almost made him paint your face in cum but he managed to hold back as he bend down to your face and shared a messy kiss with you.

"Didn't know you were such a hungry little slut," he said with glinting eyes before pulling you up from your knees.

You almost stumbled into his arms, your legs not quiet awake from being in the same position for too long. Seonghwa's strong arms caught you and pressed your body to his own for a short moment. The warmth of the embrace made you smile. His grasp held an intimacy that let your heart flutter in almost unbearably strong affection.

"Now you better hurry onto the bed before I ruin you on the carpet right here," Seonghwa rasped into your ear before shoving you off of him once again.

The strong command once again made electricity surge through your body and you hurried to the bedroom. As soon as you sat yourself on the bed and faced back towards Seonghwa he was already in front of you. His pupils blown wide in a state of desire that you had never seen him in before. He grabbed your face harshly between both his hands and shared a deep kiss with you as he hovered above you.

Your hands wound into his raven locks in response, sharing breathless moans as your tongues clashed with one another. One of Seonghwa's hands wandered down to the hem of your shirt and reading his thoughts you interrupted the kiss for him to quickly dispose of your shirt. Left only in a lace bralette and your tiny shorts Seonghwa devoured the sight of you.

"You were right, doll. You do look like such a innocent, fragile little thing to me." His eyes now landed on yours again. "That makes me want to ruin you even more."

He roughly pushed you down onto the bed before crawling over you. As he buried his lips in your neck you could feel his throbbing cock rubbing against your thigh, making you whimper under his touch. All you wanted was for him to touch you but Seonghwa had his own plans with you.

Sucking harshly on your skin he started leaving marks all over your neck. "You like that? Want me to mark you all over?" he asked in between two hickies.

"Yes, please Seonghwa. Make me yours."

Your enthusiasm only spurred him on. His hands started squeezing your breast now, playing with your nipples through the thin fabric covering them. You couldn't help arching your back and trying to rub yourself on his thigh to get some kind of friction where you most wanted it.

In an instant, Seonghwa's hands rushed down to your hips, pinning them against the bed. "Did I allow you to do that, doll? I thought you wanted me to have my way with you?" His eyes were down right intimidating as he looked at you beneath him.

"I'm sorry, Seonghwa. I'll do anything you want."

A small chuckle left him at your desperate response. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

"Strip," was all he said then and within a heartbeat you started removing your shorts and panties, followed by your bra. In the meantime Seonghwa also rid himself of his shirt, leaving you both naked.

He scooted down on the bed, slowly spreading your legs so he could lower his upper body in between your thighs. Looking up at you through his predator-like eyes, he made a show of dragging his fingers slowly over the skin of your inner thighs. When he started placing delicate kisses all around where you needed him the most you started shaking beneath him.

"Please, Seonghwa. Please just touch me."

"Want me here?" he asked tauntingly, starting to gently rub your clit with his middle finger.

"Fuck, yes!" The tiny amount of pleasure already had your lashes fluttering.

"But you want more right? Want me to destroy my little girl and have my way with her?"

You nodded frantically, not being able to bring out anything but whimpers beneath Seonghwa's grasp.

"Well don't make me stop now since you wanted this," Seonghwa said before burying his tongue between your legs.

You really never lied to him when you told him he was insanely good at eating you out. As his tongue circled around your clit, two of his fingers buried themself in your cunt and you closed your eyes in pure pleasure as he started pumping them in and out of you.

Usually he would work you up gently with only one, but after your confessions from today he was way rougher with you now. As a result you felt yourself being thrown towards the edge much faster. Your pleasure already starting to build up as his pace only quickened.

"I'm gonna cum," you warned him through heavy breaths.

But either Seonghwa was too lost between your legs or he didn't care because he just kept on lapping at your core when your high finally crashed down over you. You moaned out shamelessly and as your hips started trembling, Seonghwa pinned them down firmly with his arm.

"Please," you pleaded at him to give you a break but he didn't show any mercy to you.

"I'll make you come as often as I want," he spits at you as his thumb takes over his tongue in pleasuring your sensitive clit. "This is what you asked for, baby."

A mad smile spread on his face that let shivers run over your entire body before he lowered his mouth done again and buried his tongue inside of you. You had to close your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. All of a sudden, the overstimulation was taken over by lust again and you reeled towards another orgasm faster than you had ever done before.

"Fuck," you moaned before a few more firm circles of Seonghwa's thumb pushed you over the edge again. This time you didn't tremble but went full on limp beneath him. Your ears were ringing as the intense feeling rushed through your body. Faintly, you notice Seonghwa finally detaching from your core.

"Look at you all messed up and I haven't even fucked you yet," he snickered as he crawled on top of you. Seonghwa let his fingers graze over your cheek, taking in the beauty of your fucked out expression.

"You still feeling good?" he asked then in a slightly softer tone. But as soon as you mumbled a weak "yes" he was back to his demon self.

"I'll make you feel even better then," he said before slowly burying his hard cock inside of you.

At this point you were dripping wet but you still gasped at his size and the feeling of him finally filling you up. "Please, fuck me, Hwa!" you managed to beg him through big doe eyes and fluttering lashes.

Seonghwa moaned in return before starting to pound into you in a steady rhythm. He didn't go too fast but every single thrust hit you deep inside and soon you found yourself clinging onto his arms, as your life depended on it while he rearranged your insides.

Never had you ever imagined that asking Seonghwa to be rougher with you would give you this amount of pleasure. He was everything you had ever wanted and more.

As his pace increased you felt your head starting to swim more and more. Any coherent thought was lost to the way his hips snapped into you and his heavy breaths played like music in your ears.

"I love you, Hwa," you suddenly confessed through high pitch moans. You told him that quite often, but with the way you were buried beneath him, completely at his mercy, the words stirred something inside Seonghwa.

"Fuck, baby. Me too." His thrusts turned sloppy for a few seconds before he recovered a little. "You look so fucking perfect like this. I won't ever hold back on ruining you again, I promise."

You simply whimpered in response, unable to form a coherent sentence. Seonghwa lowered himself down to catch your lips in a desperate kiss while keeping up with his thrusts. Both of you were breathing heavy, but you still clung to each others touch as if your life depended on it.

"I'm close," Seonghwa moaned into your mouth between open-mouthed kisses. As his release neared, his eyes turned softer and he caressed your cheek with his thumb adoringly.

"Please come inside me," you pleaded him.

His eyes fluttered at your request. "Anything you want, baby."

And with that Seonghwa stilled deep inside you, groaning as his cum spurted into you. As soon as his cock started twitching you came one more time. This time it felt warm and comforting as Seonghwa held you so tightly and stayed deep within you until you stopped trembling. You wanted to stay like this forever: him buried deep beneath you and nothing on your mind but pure bliss.

When you finally recovered a little, you caught his lips again for a few more lazy kisses. "You were fucking amazing, angel," you praised him in between kisses.

"All this and you still call me angel?" he joked but you knew he didn't mind. His eyes only held love and adoration as he stared down into yours.

Slowly, he pulled out of you and laid down beside you before pulling you into his chest to rest. "I really wish you had told me earlier. We missed out on a lot."

"I don't mind catching up," you answered with a chuckle.

I wrote this over a long time span so I'm not too happy with it but I hope you still enjoy!

#ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #beginningofwonderland #smut fanfic #ateez fanfiction #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fanfic

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