#consistent coloring who though
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Câmon Raph, donât noogie the elderly
(Or: finally, communication)
#extended stay au#art#fanart#digital art#tmnt#tmnt 2003#donatello#raphael#sainw au#sainw#gijinka#TIME TO RAMBLE:#so of course I had to continue dons allergy to sitting like a normal person#even though it made this WAY harder than it needed to be#and I will never have one of those super consistent art styles so each panel is a lil bit off lmao#theyâre watching football together like in canon :]#ALSO THE SHOW MAKES THE COLORS IN THE LAIR WORK BUT CHRIST THE COUCH AND WALL COMBO IS GRATING TO LOOK AT#WHY IS IT DARK TEAL#NOW ONTO PLANS and a lil treat for yâall who read these#the next comic is already underway and itâs going to be a multi parter#AND Iâm drawing them AS turtles in it so canon designs#AND thereâs conflict#mikey fans rejoice#I have part 1 sketched out but I wanna do some. actual writing. to make sure the timeline fits and to deal w multiple things at once#ITS A BIG UNDERTAKING FOR ME#also calling don old is so funny to me cause Iâm 25 thatâs basically me
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and happy pride to these assholes. it's still june so i can technially still make that joke right
#the nemesis speaks#nemesis art#malevolent podcast#malevolent fanart#god i hate tagging for new fandoms yall scare me. im stopping there#anyway i have too many directors notes for this. ive developed such a vivid image of john in my head#but absolutely nothing for the dude with the actual physical body lol#idk just thinking abt the fact that the trader said ''two appear before me'' implying he could perceive john visually#but it's hard to wrap my head around like. a totally separate body that john doesn't appear consciously aware of himself#so: i think they are generally tied together. like this.#but anyway yeah. tattered/torn piece of something else. shattered crown. open hood implying a face behind it.#(yellow also has/had a mask and an unbroken crown it's symbolicâą)#the stains on the cloak are blood btw! since injury/death so consistently brings these two closer together#(and the red symbolically brings the yellow closer to arthur's brown color scheme)#the blood on the CROWN is legally john's though. or. the king's more accurately.#the intact crown on the king himself pierces through the cloak like barbs#this is all a metaphysical representation and not Actual blood ofc but (gestures vaguely) you get it#i'm talking too much whatever it's very late i probably shouldn't even be posting this WHO CARES#tomorrow i will have my proper pc back and not be drawing on an ipad old enough to have a tumblr acct maybe i'll do something better then#fuck it hit post#mv liveblog#<- almost forgot
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i was so excited about the shadow levels and what stuff from his backstory that we could see and black doom being the main villain that for a moment i lived in a world where the worst voice actor shadow has ever had wasnt still in the role
#NOTHING AGIANST THE GUY idk anythign about him and i think hes a good va for other characters hes just not my shadow#maybe if he has better material to work with he'll sound better i dont know ....#but i wouldlove to see david or jason come back. or maybe even the guy who voiced him in prime#actually i think david has shown interest in coming back to the sonic franchise if sega would let him. let him in please#i doubt they would do a recast for this specific game though#because i remember for sonic colors ultimate and all content related to it they used the exact same voice cast as sonic colors#even if a couple recasts have happened between colors and colors ultimate#so. im sure theyre still going to want that voice consistency here and arent going to give shadow a different va from sonic generations
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i would take their poison
Sketch + Line Art for those Clicking Under the Cut(tm) (archival purposes honestly)
#moshi monsters#sweet tooth moshi monsters#experimentation i am COG AWFUL at digital dear goodness i was playing with coloring and transparency and all those fun digital doodads.#next time i probably wont have black outline or i'll do it differently. or i'll try well. not doing this. it sure was a process im#i'm an amateur everyone who masically only doodles. does the sketch look better than the final. kinda! but thats okay because im learning#and y'know what. sometimes in life you just need to draw faves no consequences#for how saturated a character they are i kinda feel like i pastelled things too muc and trapped myself with my convoluted layer setup but m#it was looking WEIRD with everything at full force#maybe the sparkles look dumb maybe the hair looks dumb and out of place and why i kinda made the lollipop a little funky too#uhh. first digital piece posted... ever?#the arm is SO fucky i am not that was. thats not what perspective is spam#yes this is what i spent a good chunk of today doing after i started working on coloring it and then. decided to go for it.#cooolrs a little inaccurate on the horns and such but man one of the biggest art things was like#i dont have to have everything at their perfect hex codes all the time. this would look way worse if i just. used their standard colors#yeah this is. instead of looking like its forward and to the right it kinda just looks like they have a Bigger hypno-lolly#especialy becase. i did not bother on the gloves and platforms i the sparkles work with 2 kinda sorta but you know#im practicing! i'm learning! i'll get better and learn how to do things more effectively!#anyway. sweet toof#though hey their arm looks even more fucked in the line art and sketch SO#note to future self have a Consistent Line Art Size so that if you feel like the line art looks like shit during coloring you dont have to#gamble on what size it was while changing it#sketch lollipop looks better i should have kept it small. but its fine. we'll get em next time boys (tm)#yes i know my gif post was so fancy and then the drawing is just THIS
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In case it's hard to read/understand: "If I had a nickel for every time I had a story with a blonde girl named after a plant, who has a German father and a French mother but absolutely hates said mom, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice."
weird, extremely-specific tropes in my stories: pt 1
#oc liveblogging#ughhhhhhh i really CANNOT afford to be procrastinating rn but i know this happens when im extremelyyyyyy fucking stressed.#creative/art related classes always get me for this reason bc ill use 'wait but i need to find inspiration!' as an excuse to procrastinate.#fuckkkkkkkkkk. UGH IM NOT EVEN WRITING SOMETHING FROM SCRATCH ITS JUST A FINAL REVISION BUT IM CONVINCED IT SUCKS#the worst part is hkjhkjGHKJ I HAVE TO PRESENT SOME OF THIS SHIT AT AN. INTERNATIONAL FUCKING CONFERENCE GUYS. GUYSYSSSS#anyways this post is sadly not related to that. nothing im presenting is related to my ocs [un]fortunately lmao#ive just been thinking rotating various oc stories around in my head again ourgghhhh.#and i realized this LMAO. i mean maybe technically not 2 separate stories anymore because im recycling a lot from one for the other?#one of these was already established lowkey and the other was something i made for an assignment for a class like 2 years ago#i actually don't know if petunie will be blonde in her final incarnation?? ive always imagined her as silvery blonde ig but idk#if ill keep that. she doesnt have proper colors like colin but at least colin has his design set more straight somewhat.#and all the recent petunie development is lowkey really fucking funny to think abt. i girlbossed with her character development so#hard that she really replaced lucian as a protagonist HAHAJSDHKGJ. ok well not 100% kamille's story is a shoot-off#of lucian's technically? i guess? it started becoming that and now its solidified as that lowkey bc same town same place time period people#but man if im not careful i might accidentally make kamille/petunie's arc THE default one and lucian's main one the offshoot instead#a lot remains to be seen. but also yeah the other one who's story is mostly getting recycled (myrtille) actually ALSO HAD HER MOM#COME FROM THIS SAME FUCKING PLACE BASICALLY. a few decades later but still bruh given developments for lucian's story too its just like#at this point im noticing a pattern man wtf is wrong w/ women who come from this town specifically lol. đđ„Ž#this town in general is just fucking cursed though i think ahkjshkg. i mean that jokingly and literally lolololl i gotta. work on it. but y#I HATE IT HERE WHY ARE WEIRD LITTLE FUCKING TOWNS WHERE BAD SHIT HAPPENS ALWAYS A CONSISTENT TROPE IN MY STORIES /silly#I DONT EVEN COME FROM A WEIRD LITTLE TOWN MY HOMETOWN IS LIKE. AVERAGE NORMALISH NOT SUPER LARGE??? IDFK?????#haaaaaaa fuck i need to finish this by the end of TODAY I S2G!!! SO I CAN MOVE ON TO ALL THE OTHER SHIT I OWE FUCKKKK
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Sort of a sketch/redraw, Vash looks feral ops. Not very "love and peace" of him... đ€
[panel]
#trigun#trigun maximum#vash the stampede#my art#dunno... i was just playing around with procreate#i still have to figure out what kind of style i'd like to have... lineart yes or no? coloring style who?? shadows? flat colors? what?#drawing is sooo *gestures vaguely *#but also the more i stare the more he looks like young wolfwood... oh.#pouting vash is cute though#art style consistency who.
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drawing oki shaperaverse rn and he looks like a freaking Mario character đđđ
#why is thattt#his outfitâs not even CLOSE to any mario character he just has that vibe đ#what the FUCK#I need to change it. immediately#ough#cryong laughing he looks so silly⊠at least the other characters iâve been drawing look good#I figured out how I like drawing jes a few days ago. itâs not QUITE the way I imagine her but Iâve done quite a few doodles of her and she#has by far the most consistent character design. thank you jes for being SIMPLE#actually not simple at all clothing-wise but whatever#better than OKI. or jenna who I canât figure out#OR SKYLER I know EXACTLY what his face looks like but canât figure out his clothes#noraâs voice is very fun for my synesthesia which is great when listening to the albums but less fun when iâm drawing characters she voices#because i associate them with too many colors#though that works very well for jill!#anyways back to puppetshades. I need to de-mario my oki brb#shaperaverse
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There is something to be said for
âI like these clothes because they mess with your preconception of me and I want people to stop sticking me in a certain boxâ
vs
âI like these clothes because they make me feel more comfortable in my own skinâ
and how theyâre sometimes but not always the same thing
#this is about how I spent a long time admiring girls who wore more masculine clothing#because it was in your face that they werenât going with the stereotypical âgirlyâ clothes#and spent years getting the courage to go shopping and get a menâs white button up#only to find#âoh no I really donât like wearing thisâ#not even for sensory reasons! I just. didnât enjoy looking masculine. even though I thought it was cool.#turns out that I. being a cis girl. enjoy looking more feminine. and personally felt real uncomfy looking masculine.#but I also didnât like the constant T-shirts or ânice clothes my mom picked outâ because they also didnât make me comfy in my own skin#my mom has good taste itâs just different from my taste#she likes earth tones and flowy shapes and jeans#and it turns out that. left to my own devices. I really like skirts and bright colors and leggings and patterned pretty button ups#and how when I started buying clothes I actively liked wearing#I started putting more effort into my own hygiene#I washed my hair more often#I got hairbows#I put on deodorant more consistently and actually cut my nails at a normal time#weird#shocking even#and this is not to say clothes are everything or that I wasnât happy before that#it just. I used to hate clothes shopping with a fury and passion and now itâs like. I can handle it. because I can use sensory accommodation#and I actually know what I want
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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 fâs sister like a forbidden summer fling with all their friends and no oneâs supposed to know about their secret relationship ( especially max ) â @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 girlfriendâs 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 werenât 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, heâd always challenge you in a multitude of ways. or annoy you to no end. typically it was the latter.Â
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.Â
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 thatâs all that it was, wasnât it?
a dream. a pathetic fantasy. you wouldnât 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. youâd hold up your hands in defense, shrieking a âdonât worry about me,â though you wish you gave him a reason to.
why did you feel undeserving of landoâ because he was a formula one driver? attractive? charming? were you afraid that you were going to be friendzonedâ? oh god, that would be the fucking worst, wouldnât it? you could never imagine the hangouts being the same. so youâd bite your tongue until it bled, even when your body yearned for the heat of his own.Â
the villa that you would be staying at was on lake como in italy. it was a beautiful venue, a place that youâd been dreaming of visiting. max knew this, hence why heâd probably sniped you an invite. but it wasnât like no one wanted you there. everyone did. that was the problem. you were so incredibly loved by all of maxâs friends, that he kept them at armâs length. no one would ever hurt his little sister. not while he was still breathing.Â
âwow,â 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 didnât see the huge pair of mahogany doors swing open.Â
âmax,â 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.Â
âlando!â 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.Â
âhow was the flight, mate? good?â max nodded for the both of you whilst you fiddled with the accessories around your hands. you didnât ever know what to say to lando. you found yourself unbelievably speechless in his presence.Â
ânot too bad, âspecially if this is what youâve got.â lando chuckled at your brotherâs 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.Â
ânever thought sheâd grace our presence,â lando said jokingly, which had your head snapping upright. you flushed, sucking your bottom lip with your teeth.Â
max rolled his eyes, avoidant of the topic of you in general. âwhatever, mate, sheâs here now, inâshe?â what? what was that supposed to mean? was your presence requested? you suddenly felt wanted above all things.Â
âshe certainly is.â 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 couldnât keep eye contact with him. âcâmon, love, iâll take your bags.âÂ
âare you sure? i can takeââ
the bags were grabbed from your hands. you felt the palm of his own for just a momentâ 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 wasnât giving you special attention, thatâs for sure.Â
you promised yourself that much. this whimsical, airy crush of yours needed to be vetted on the spot. he was your brotherâs best friend, older than you, and certainly didnât have time for a girl who wasnât a celebrity.Â
right?
he took your bags through the exquisite villa. the interior was even more luxurious than you could ever imagineâ 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 couldnât be ignored, as you shimmered brighter than the summer sun.Â
âyou like it, then?â came landoâs 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?Â
âyouâre joking.â you assured, hands clasped together. âitâs beautiful.âÂ
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.Â
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 didnât. it wasnât 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.Â
the room youâd 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.Â
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.Â
âsoâŠdinner tonight at seven, pool day tomorrow, umâŠâ he looked around, acting as if he could suddenly have the words appear into his head. âoh and, if you need anything, my roomâs just next door.âÂ
he said it with haste, as if he were shy about the fact, and was already stepping out the door.Â
âwait,â you said, stepping forward. lando hung back, gripping onto the door frame, swinging his head back into the room. âthank you.âÂ
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. âof course.â he said with out hesitance, making it clear that he would do this for anyone. ââm glad youâre here.âÂ
and then he was gone.Â
you stared at the shut door in stunned silence. did you really hear him correctly?Â
you didnât let your thoughts linger too long, but you couldnât 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.Â
by the evening you were more than settled and relaxed. youâd 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. youâd 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.Â
there was a soft knock on your door at 6:57. you turned, dress swaying from your movements, and cracked it open.Â
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.Â
no words were spoken between the two of you. you simply stared at one another, lost in each otherâs 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.Â
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 otherâs presence.Â
âready?â 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 werenât 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.Â
âwhat?â you asked tenderly, voice hitching in your throat.Â
ânothing.â he turned his head to face back forward. âjust havenât seen you in a while, thatâs all.âÂ
that was an understatement. you havenât seen lando in almost three years. max had done a stellar job of wanting to keep you separated from his friends, though you werenât upset about it. you had your own life, and that was perfectly enough for you.Â
but you were a girl with a heart full of wanderlust, and often dreamed of what you couldâve had. there was a marksmith of delusion prodding the hidden parts of your brain, working tirelessly to pick apart the small interactions youâve had with lando over the years.Â
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 wouldnât 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.Â
you thought you were going to kiss.Â
and so did he.Â
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 didnât 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.Â
though, every time in presence, youâd manage to falter. set those delusions free the second heâd act kindly to you; gentle, tender tenacity that you believed would be special to you. maxâs little sister. thatâs all you were, though, werenât you?Â
âyouâve been well, havenât you?â 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.Â
ââcourse. living my dream, arenât i?â youâd made it to the end of the hallway. the top of the staircase.Â
âitâs not a dream.â you said with a softer intonation. he looked back towards you with a raised brow. âitâs reality now, iâd reckon.âÂ
he smiled.Â
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 waterâs edge.Â
but you werenât looking at the waterâs edge.Â
you were looking at lando. your brotherâs 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 didnât jolt from the action and merely stared into your eyes, pupils blown wide from the warmth of your touch.Â
âi like it,â you commented before taking your hand away, finding yourself into much deep trouble if max had seen the two of you.Â
âyeah?â lando asked, suddenly much closer to you.Â
âmakes you look older and manly.â you rolled your eyes.Â
âwhat? i wasnât manly before?âÂ
your hand rolled over your mouth to withhold a laugh. âiâve seen you weep at the sight of fish.âÂ
landoâs face lit up and his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek. âdoesnât make me any less of a man.â he crossed his arms.Â
âreally?âÂ
âjust enthusiastic. donât see a problem with having a bit of character.â you didnât 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 couldnât take his eyes off the action, his face falling instinctively. itâs nothing. his expressions mean nothing. theyâre not for you.Â
âcâmon, iâm starvinâ.â max called, slapping lando on the back. sure enough, you were walking out the door behind your brother, everyone trailing in an orderly manner.Â
you heard lando call your name from in front of max. you hummed in response. âyouâll ride with me, yeah?â 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.Â
he knows, he knows, he knows. but surely, surely youâve gotten over that little crush of yours. and lando, too, hadnât harbored any feelings towards you either? surely, surely he couldnât. you were his little sister. and max knew how lando treated girls as of late.Â
it left a sour taste in his mouth, but he said nothing when you nodded, brushing past him.Â
lando opened the door for you. his mclaren was a two seater, comfortable, and roared to life when lando turned over the engine. you couldnât help but laugh feeling the seat vibrate beneath your thighs. it was a feeling of exhilaration that you hadnât felt in a long time, but a feeling that came perpetually with landoâs presence. being with him made you feel alive, more alive than the years youâd walked this earth.Â
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.Â
âgonna jump out on me?âÂ
you shifted in the leather seat, crossing your legs over one another. there was a heat building inside of you, deep in your core.Â
ânot if you donât give me a reason to.â
he chuckled at that. âiâll try.âÂ
you smiled to yourself, looking down at your fiddling hands. lando stepped on the gas and pulled out of the villaâs extraneously long driveway, leading the pack of friends behind him.Â
âyou look fit.â came his voice, nervous, beneath his breath. your eyes caught his side profile, all rough edges of it. âbeautiful, but your brotherâd have me by the balls if he heard me say that.âÂ
your breaths were heavy in your chest. âthen donât let him.âÂ
landoâs head whipped to meet your eyes, hand white-knuckling the steering wheel. you werenât even sure what you were implying with your words, but he hoped that he wasnât misinterpreting them. god forbid he didnât understand. you didnât brush him off like you did as a child, didnât stumble away bashfully. now, in your grown state, you faced him head on. you challenged him, just as he suspected you would.Â
âbetween us, then?âÂ
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 youâve ever been in with that roaring engine, feeling like you had stepped into the biggest unknown of your very existence.Â
the restaurant that lando had made reservations for was absolutely beautiful. you couldnât count the amount of times youâve been awed by the sites youâve seen, but you couldnât help yourself. you were simply one of the luckiest girls with even richer friends.Â
lando opened the car door for you, sprinting to the other side. you found yourself laughing at the action, finding his urgency cute.Â
you stepped out of the car and you immediately found your brother, his stance idle before he marched over to you.Â
âhe say anything to you?âÂ
you flushed. between us, then?
âno. what would he say?âÂ
max didnât 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 didnât 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.Â
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 didnât know what warranted themâ you didnât even say anything to lando, more or less.Â
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 youâve always precluded dinners with.Â
âahâ look,â you leaned into landoâs space, the heat from his body, the cologne from his shirt, sifting through your nose. it was tempting. âfor you.âÂ
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. âfuck off.â you couldnât help but giggle, attempting to stifle the sound the best you could.
âdonât do that,â landoâs 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.Â
âwhat?âÂ
âhide your laugh.â you guessed you didnât realize how often you muffled yourself. your hand lowered to your lap. âyou used to do it when you were a teenager, too.â he pointed. you thought for a moment, realizing that he was right. ânever understood why. especially since itâs so pretty.â
you froze, staring up at him with weary eyes. he looked confused at your expression. your hand came to slap his bicep. âstop it.â but you were teasing him. he saw right through your tone.Â
âdonât let him, âs what you said, right?âÂ
you swallowed. nodded your head.Â
his mouth dipped to your ear. his breath hot, just like your cheeks. âhe wonât hear a thing then, will he?â landoâs 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.Â
but you turned your head to meet his eyes, shaking his contact off. he noticed. tensed. âbut he can see, you imbecile.âÂ
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.Â
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 âcheersâ.Â
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 landoâs 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.Â
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. âwhat?â you asked.Â
he simply huffed a short laugh and nodded his head at your choice.Â
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, youâd want them all.Â
when you had your fill and so did he, you couldnât help but look at him. he turned, and you laughed quietly between the two of you. he raised a brow.Â
âyouâve gotââ 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 âpopâ. lando never thought his dick could be so hard.Â
âthere,â you breathed. âall clean.âÂ
there was a brief silence. one second. two. âyouâve always been trouble, havenât you?âÂ
your own eyes were hooded. âmaybe.â you teased, cleaning your fingers with the napkin. âguess you have to find out?âÂ
landoâs hand gripped tighter on the back of your chair.Â
âguess so.â
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.Â
you still couldnât believe what had happened.Â
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. youâd lose your mind if anyone else was the driver, but he was the professional here, wasnât he?Â
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.Â
you were at peace for the time being, and it was the only way heâd wish to see you. but he could think of other things.Â
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.Â
it was well past 10pm. when you reached the foyer, max was waiting for you.
âbright and early tomorrow?â he asked.Â
âbright and early.â 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.Â
he patted lando on the back briefly, before narrowing his eyes at him. you didnât 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.Â
it was just you and lando, now, idling in the foyer.Â
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.Â
he did.Â
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.Â
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.Â
âyou wanna know something?â you asked. lando perked up, humming with curiosity. he was too busy admiring your figure, having to pull himself back from such tumultuous thoughts. âi had a crush on you when i was a kid.â
that stifled a laugh from the british driver. âyou did not.âÂ
you shook your head. âsure did.â you didnât know why you were telling him this all of a sudden, but it was weighing heavy on your mind. âmax was pissed. knew i only came around when he told me youâd be there.âÂ
the pieces began melding together in landoâs mind. he had been such an idiot boy that he couldnât see what a prized beauty you were. there was a trace of second hand guilt. a pattern of âwhat-ifsâ trifling through his mind.Â
ââwas just a stupid girl. tried so hard for you to notice me.â your hands covered your face for a brief moment.Â
âyou always wore skirts,â he recalled, looking at his hands in his lap. he looked up at you, smirk building. âthat why?âÂ
you were shameless when you nodded your head.Â
âso embarrassing, i knowââÂ
âwhat about now?â he cut you off, clearly wanting to ask this question the moment it left your lips.Â
âwhat do you mean?â your mouth went dry, your hands clasping at the balustrade as if you were going to faint. your heart pounded in your chest.Â
âwhat do you feel for me now?âÂ
you couldnât 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 wouldnât judge you. it would wash away your problems, in fact, and not stare you down.Â
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 didnât have you as afraid as you thought youâd be.Â
he raised his arm, outstretching his hand for you.Â
you swallowed, pushing yourself off from the balustrade. you sauntered towards him, earnest in your steps, before letting your palm rest on his.Â
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.Â
landoâs 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.Â
âyou didnât answer me.â he repeated.
you crossed your arms over your chest.Â
âsome dreams just remain dreams.âÂ
he waited a beat. you felt his chest rise and fall.Â
âdo you want to dream forever?âÂ
no. no. you didnât. you wanted your fantasies to become reality. being with him. being loved by him has always been what you wanted.Â
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?Â
his forehead collided with yours. his nose brushing against your bridge. you shook your head, closing your eyes.Â
âwake me up,â 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 couldnât appreciate a woman at his side. âplease.âÂ
he didnât wait any longer to meet your lips with his own.Â
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.Â
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 didnât 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.Â
he lied when he said he didnât notice you.Â
he lied.Â
lando would always await your appearance when he went over to maxâs house. heâd 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.Â
âcourse he fucking noticed.Â
he thought of you a sweet girl, caring for her brother, with an exquisite taste in fashion. heâd remember the skirts you woreâ black ones, pleated ones, plaid onesâ they were all committed to the vaults of his memory. he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.Â
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.Â
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.
âwe canât.â 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.Â
your nose brushed against his as you chuckled. âa bit late, isnât it?â your teeth bit at your swollen, bottom lip. you could see his eyes flash downward at your action, his own tongue wetting his own.Â
âyour brother,â he began to shake his head, still clutching around the fabric of your dress.Â
âhe doesnâtâŠâ 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. youâd been desperate for his touch. desperate for as long as you could remember. âhave to know.âÂ
landoâs fingers curled upward to apply pressure right on your clit. he didnât even have to search for it, and you shifted your hips, bucking them across his palm. âfuck, babyâŠâ he groaned into your cheek, followed by a crass chuckle. âyou always get this wet?âÂ
your head buried itself into the junction between his neck and shoulder, whining with embarrassment. âjusâ for youâŠâ the words came quietly, but they rang loud in landoâs ears. he could feel the vibrations from your throat, your aching cunt. you were laid atop of him, dripping down your thighs.Â
âyeah?â he breathed, finding his heart beating rapidly beneath the weight of your body. his fingers began a pattern of motions across your clothed clitâback and forthâ and you mewled into his shirt. there was a patch of drool beneath your lips. âlook at you, then, made a mess all over meâŠâÂ
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.Â
âân iâve barely touched you.âÂ
lando wasnât even sure he could bring himself to. this was his best friendâs little sister. the amount of lines heâs crossed. the friendship heâs had for years suddenly feeling vulnerable, out the door. but he canât say he hasnât thought about a moment like this. fantasized about it once or twice.Â
âtouch me,â you pleaded, tilting your head to look at him. your eyes were wide, glossy with your pleasure, whilst his darkened at your contact. âmore, i needâŠâ your hips grinded against his palm. âmore.âÂ
âfuck,â 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 youâd be waking up from a sick, yearning dream.Â
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.Â
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. âeyes on me.â you listened, melted at his soft, demanding tone, and nodded your head. you shimmied frantically across the plane of his hand, but he tsked. âbe patient.âÂ
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, landoâs thumb swirling around your bare neck.Â
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.Â
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 thumbâ acting so expertlyâ applied gentile pressure to your clit, toiling with your impetuous lust. you felt exposed to him, putty in his hands, weightless against his body.Â
the british driverâs 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.
âno marks,â you requested, but you heard him growl against your chest. his hands flexedâ his wrist clutched with your palm, his hand on the back of your neckâ the contact with your neck had you breathless, clenching around his singular finger, and he took blatant notice.Â
âa secret, yeah?â 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.Â
âmhmmâŠâ you had to clamp your mouth shut from bursting with a wanton moan. it was too muchâ 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.Â
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.Â
with his lips still against your breasts, his motions froze. âquiet.â you hummed a disapproving sound. âwant me to stop?âÂ
you shook your head. ânoâ no!âÂ
you could feel his teeth against your breasts, a cocky smile no doubt with how flustered you became at the thought of him stopping.Â
âgotta be quiet, loveââ 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 inâ his shampoo, his cologneâ and it didnât help with containing yourself.Â
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.Â
landoâs 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 wayâ putty, liquid, meltingâ beneath his touch. you feared that youâd never be able to have an orgasm again.Â
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.Â
âgonna cum for me?â 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. youâd never trusted a man so much to not hurt you.Â
âcome on, sweet girl, âve got you.â he promised to you, âbet youâre so pretty when you cum.âÂ
you felt the skin of your lip break into a light gash beneath the weight of your teeth. youâd 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 didnât 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. heâd never hear something like it again.Â
âcome on, baby,â 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. âlet me see how pretty you are.âÂ
it didnât 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.Â
your head fell limp against his shoulder, breathing heavily, clutching the fabric of his shirt. you didnât 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 heâd initiated between you two, but he felt no regret.Â
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 landoâs lap. what fucking world were you living in? youâve had feelings for him for what felt like a century, and now a dream that you didnât even know was possible of coming true, came at the palm of his hand.Â
lando couldnât 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 wasnât a word that could surmount to this feeling.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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 didnât 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.Â
you heard him open a door quietly and shuffle around the mess on the floor. your room, no doubt. youâd left a pile of clothes as a welcome for yourself when you were picking out your attire for the evening. it didnât help him, either, by being surrounded by your scent. your perfume, you, it swirled around him, taunting him. dared him to fuck his best friendâs little sister.Â
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 couldnât let himself.Â
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.Â
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 heardâ and maybe the pounding of your heart.Â
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.Â
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.Â
âdonât know if we should do this again.â he spoke quietly.Â
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?Â
âwhy?â you asked, feeling tears well in your eyes. you couldnât 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.Â
he sighed deep, unable to meet your eyes. he was about to say something before you interrupted him.
âyou donât want me?âÂ
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.Â
he spoke your name. twice. three times. you looked back toward him, tears hot in your eyes. âhey.â you focused on his voice. âyou know thatâs not true.âÂ
your brows furrowed. âdo i?â
his expression dropped.Â
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.Â
your name was sweet on his tongue.Â
âwhat would your brother sayâ?âÂ
âfuck what he thinks.â you leaned down.Â
landoâs head dropped between your thighs, taking a deep inhale of your skin. you shivered, letting your hand rest on the back of his neck.Â
âwe need tâgive it time.â 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.Â
âhow much?âÂ
lando wasnât 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.Â
âhey,â he said to gauge your attention back to him. âweâll figure it out, wonât we?âÂ
you wanted to believe him. but you werenât sure that you could. lando leaned down to kiss your sternum against the fabric of your dress.Â
âyou still want me?â you asked, voice cracking with your emotions.Â
âiâve wanted you,â he said against your stomach, âsince the day you came down in that white skirt.âÂ
you gasped, head tilting to look at him. that was one of the first times you met himâ third, maybeâ you remembered which one he was talking about. it was a skirt with little white bows, embellished with threads of ribbon and lace.Â
âthe one with the bows?âÂ
âthat fuckinâ skirtâŠâ he scoffed with a laugh. you were still floored, but managed to smile. you couldnât 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 didnât quiver beneath him.Â
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 didnât expect this from him. this sensibility.Â
you began to strip with your back turned to him. he watched. silently.Â
you stripped of your panties and threw them over your shoulder. lando caught them, still gawking at you. âkeep them.â you spoke. âyou ruined them.âÂ
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 didnât dare move.Â
âwhat?â you asked, his staring becoming more intense.Â
he swallowed. shook his head.
âyou better go.â you spoke for him as you approached your bed, narrowly dodging him when you threw yourself down. his eyes raked over you, speechless. âlando.â you reaffirmed, bringing him out of his haze. he let out a sigh and stood, hand coming to brace the back of his neck.Â
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.Â
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 heâs ever met, and he couldnât ever let you go. heâs 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.Â
yet, he couldnât 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.Â
that was a thought that he could fall asleep to. and he did, snoring with a good guzzle that had you tossing and turning.Â
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.Â
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.
âi donât know if we should do this again.âÂ
fuck that.Â
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.Â
âmorning!â came his preppy voice. he was wearing a thin white shirt and swim trunks, ready to take on the day to swim.Â
âgood morning.â you sat down at the lush kitchen island, max sliding a plate of food in front of you. you dug in immediately.Â
âwoah,â max commented, sitting down beside you with a cup of tea. ârelax. thought we were going swimming?âÂ
you coughed. âwe are.â you continued to finish your food with haste. âjust hungry.âÂ
you heard more steps come down the stairs. but you didnât turn your head until max did, his eyes brightening as his close friend was approaching.
âmate,â max said, eyeing up lando. âyou look like shit. did âya sleep last night?âÂ
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.Â
âslept great.âÂ
you scoffed.Â
max and lando turned towards you. the fork in your hands dropped and your eyes widened. a blush creeped onto your cheeks.Â
âyou snore,â you commented, still refusing to look at him. âyou know that?âÂ
max turned towards lando. âyour rooms are next to each other?â 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.Â
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 werenât stupid. and neither was he, knowing exactly what you had done this morning.Â
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 werenât that girl anymore. a woman grown, you were elegant. he didnât understand how you were related to max, a scruffy rascal, but he was happier for that.Â
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 hadnât been paying attention. landoâs shoulder brushed against your own when you were scrubbing, desperate to say something.Â
âyouââ
âmax,â 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?Â
max responded with a âhm?â âyou want me to cook tonight?â you offered, and max glanced at lando, who never stopped looking at you. you saw maxâs expression tense.Â
âwhy not. could save us some money, wonât it?â he said, waiting for lando to add on. âright, lando?âÂ
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 werenât expecting lando to retaliate.Â
he spoke your name, which had your head lifting. âwhat happened to your lip?âÂ
you froze. eyes widening. your own lip twitched with a remedy of a snarl, and he bit back, his nose curling with distaste.Â
max approached you two, observing your scabbed lip from the night before. âshit. heâs right. what happened?âÂ
you reached back to clench the marble counter beneath your fingers. âuhââ lando held back his devious smile. âbit it in my sleep, âspose.âÂ
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.Â
âget off me,â you commented with grit, biting your words. lando shook his head, not moving.Â
âdonât play this with me,â he said, lifting his head with a deep inhale. you raised a brow at him, having absolutely no idea what he meant.Â
âsaid we werenât going to do this again, didnât you?â you made him sit with his words. make him roll in the fucking mud. âweâre not. and if we wereââ you shoved his chest with both your hands, which had him lurching backward. he didnât go far. âiâd fucking win.âÂ
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.Â
âyâsure âbout that?â he said with a light tone, teasing you with the vibrato of his words. you swallowed a lump in your throat.Â
but you stood your ground. âpositive.âÂ
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. âwhatever you say.â were the only words he said before he leapt away from you suddenly, leaving your exposed body cold.Â
he followed you out to the pool, never leaving enough space between you two. but you had other plansâsticking by maxâs side would surely drive him insane.Â
so you sat beside your brother all day. in the pool chair next to him. tanning, reading a book, scrolling on your phoneâ it didnât matter. it wasnât long before the rest of your brotherâs friends joined everyone by the pool.Â
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.Â
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.Â
the sun was hot that day, and you had forgotten your sunglasses. sunscreen on your head would cause greasy hair, and you didnât want that. so you searched briefly in the kitchen for any sort of hat that someone left, and you found one.Â
it was a papaya hat. with mclarenâs logo, and a number 4 on it. you smirked, bringing the hat atop your head.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
âfor us?â 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.Â
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 geniusâ 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.Â
he simply stared at you. and you stared at him.Â
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 didnât have time to react before his own thumb came to wipe away a droplet of mango juice from your chin.Â
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.Â
âtastes sweet.â he muttered to you. he raised his eyes, hooded beneath the glare of the sunlight. ânot my favorite, though.âÂ
holy shit
you thought you were going to pass out.Â
with your eyes flared wide, you spun away from him, throwing the hat to the side, and dove straight into the pool.Â
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.Â
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.Â
âwhat?â you said, the hat you had thrown off was now back in your lap.Â
âlook,â 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.Â
âugh,â you groaned, handing his phone back to him. max took it and was about to keep scrolling.Â
âwhat?â 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.Â
âher ex,â max commented with a rumble. landoâs 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.Â
âi brought him to a race once,â you pointed out, unable to look at either of them. instead, you settled on the water in the pool. âbarcelona, last year.â your arms crossed over your chest.Â
lando raised a brow. âhe was that leach for leclerc, wasnât he?â you were surprised that he remembered, but nodded your head. it wasnât 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.Â
âyeah,â you commented with a huff. âfucking asshole.âÂ
âasshole.â max mirrored you.Â
âwhy did it end, then?â lando was pushing the boundaries, but max didnât seem to notice or mind.Â
though you did.Â
you didnât want to relive the thought. the embarrassment. the entire fucking heartbreak that you pathetically went through.Â
âbecause i was stupid.â is all you said before you stood with your towel, making your way inside without another word.Â
max turned to face lando and smacked him on the shoulder. âthe fuck did you ask for?â came his harsh words. lando was stunned, not intending to chase you away.
âshit, sorry iââ lando was quick to rise to his feet, though, not even glancing back at max before he chased after you. âiâll fix it,â he promised before disappearing inside, and max simply shrugged, wondering just how lando could work his wonders. though he doubted he truly could.Â
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.Â
âiâm sorryââ he said, âi was justââ
âjust what, lando?â you grumbled, truly not wanting to hear his words. âyou wanna know just how embarrassed i was? huh? when i found he was fucking one of my best friends?âÂ
lando stood there, shocked, coming to hold out his arms for you to fall into. but you didnât. âi was such a fucking idiot. it was right in front of me but i didnât believe it. how smart of me, right?!â your voice raised when lando cornered you at the top of the stairs, your back against the wall.Â
you couldnât help but spew emotional nonsense. âoh woe is me, truly, youâd probably end up doing the sameââ
lando caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, his other hand leaning against the wall. âwhat did you say?âÂ
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.Â
âiââ you gulped. âi didnât meanââ
his hand tightened around your chin. âreally? that what you think of me?â no, no, no! you didnât. you didnât. you shook your head in his hold, your eyes largening with your emotions.Â
âif you were my girl,â lando whispered to you, not breaking eye contact with you once. âyouâd know it.âÂ
but you dared to disagree.Â
âwhat am i then?â you challenged, your voice raising in the echoing halls. âwhat was i yesterday, a whore?âÂ
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.Â
âyou needed me, yeah?â he was sure to comment. but you didnât budge.Â
âget your hands off me.â you bit out.Â
âyou didnât seem to mind yesterday.âÂ
âclearly you didnât do a good job for a second run,â the words pinched his ego, though the hand against the wall came to slide around your waist.Â
âwerenât you begging for me? or did i make that up?â you seethed at his cocky tone.Â
âthink you had too much to drink. iâd never beg.â it was a straight lie that came from your lips. he knew it. you knew it. but you pretended to keep your strength.Â
ââtouch me, please,ââ he mocked in your tone.Â
âmustâve dreamed it. thinking âbout me, lan?â the nickname was new for him on your tongue and he bristled, along with the blood soaring to his cock.Â
ââmore, needââ you slapped your hand over his mouth.
âfuck you.â you hissed. his mouth curved to a smile before he let his grip on you go.Â
âweâll see if youâre lucky tonight.âÂ
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.Â
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.Â
a smirk grew on your face, and you couldnât help but feel that you held the power.Â
a few hours had passed after your interaction with lando, and he couldnât 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.Â
but you, you had other plans. youâd showered off from the pool, taken care of your skin, and taken a nap before you were to get up and make dinner.Â
you had come up with the idea for dinner.Â
fish. as everyone enjoyed.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.
âwoo!â 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.
âwell,â you urged. âgo sit! iâll bring it over.âÂ
they didnât 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.Â
you just finished placing the bowls of food in front of the eager boys. they werenât polite in waiting for everyone to sit down, but you didnât mind.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.
âwitch.â he uttered, hands clamping around the edges of the countertops, unsure what he was going to fish through the cabinets for.Â
âdonât worry.â you said, lando turning to raise his brows. you slid him a bowl filled with greens, vegetables, and a little bit of rice. âplenty for you, donât you think?âÂ
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. âiâm no dietician,â you said quietly. âbut i tried to substitute as much as i could.âÂ
âthank you,â he said through clenched teeth, fucker.Â
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.Â
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. youâd only gone as far enough to tease him with a full fish basking over an open flame on the stove.Â
it wasnât shameful when he was devouring the meal you had cooked. despite the repugnant smell of fish lingering in the air, your food wasâŠdivine. he wasnât all that surprised, but it was a nice treat to end one of the first full days.Â
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.Â
it didnât take long before beneath the table, landoâs 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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
you sighed, your other leg jumping up and down. you attempted to listen to whatever they were talking aboutâ football, instagram, the racesâ but you couldnât 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.Â
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 landoâs 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.Â
your lap, that so happened to house landoâs 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.Â
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.Â
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 didnât stop him. it only had him steadfast in his pursuitâ to get you to come at this dinner table.Â
with your force against his forearm, you were sure to leave bruises of your fingertips in your wake. but you didnât care. through your tension, he could feel your pleasure. he knew that you would writhe, squirm, but you couldnât. not here.Â
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 eyesâthough, shamefully, that was the last thing on your mind.Â
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.Â
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 landoâs toilsome teasing. you couldnât give him this pleasure. not when he toyed with you, refused to admit to any truths that might belittle his feelings.Â
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 didnât say a word.Â
âdessert, anyone?âÂ
there was a small rally of cheers, and you smiled. it was the only thing that could get your mind off of landoâs hand between your legs. the flushed expression you wore didnât wane until you were alone in the kitchen.Â
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.Â
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 landoâŠ
lando on that balcony, dressed in the pale moonlight. you, his angel, glowing halo of energy illuminating your face, unraveled before him. he doesnât think heâs ever met such a woman receptive to his touch. heâs fucked girls before, too many for maxâs tasteâhence his displeasureâ but they werenât like you. they didnât squirm, whimper, in his hold. theyâd 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.Â
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, werenât you? weren't you supposed to plot your volatile revenge for him touching you?Â
you were.Â
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 maxâs friends.Â
they were lovely chaps, truly, but they were his friends. not yours.Â
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 didnât know that you had such austerity within you, but it was a welcome discovery.
but your skillfulness was not.Â
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.Â
âyâalright, mate?â max asked when lando coughed. the british driver nodded beside you, leaning forward.Â
âyeah. fine. carry on?â 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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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 himâŠhow receptive you were to his touchâ it was a pillar of pleasure that continued to build and build, until it will ultimately fall.Â
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.Â
and maybe you did.Â
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.Â
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?Â
the answer was undoubtedly yes.Â
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 wasnât it?Â
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.Â
conversations around you began to dull down to a minimum. the night was ending, and he felt himself rearing a release. but he couldnât. 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 wouldnât forget. ever. how he yearned to cum in your hand, but it wasnât the right time. when would be the right time?Â
âsince you made dinner,â max began, letting out a grueling burp, âi say we lot âought to tidy up, shall we?â the boys nodded and hummed amongst each other in agreement. they made quick pace clearing the table, and this was landoâs 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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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 wasnât from the man you wanted it the most.Â
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.Â
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 seeâ
ah
ah
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.Â
âthat what you wanted?â he growled into your ear, trembling with his edged orgasm teetering on the tailend of a massacre. âhmm? tell me, baby.âÂ
you were at a loss of words, dizzied from the grip around your throat. you wished that he would leave bruises.Â
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.Â
âbeing a fucking teaseâŠâÂ
âyou started it.â you retaliated with a childlike immaturity.Â
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. âbet youâre still wet anyways.â
you were.
your face flushed.Â
âdirty fucking girl.â 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.Â
âah ah,â he tsked, landing a slap to your ass. the sound ricocheted through the echoing kitchen. âthink you deserve it after tonight?â
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.Â
with a fist he made a makeshift ponytail of your hair, pulling your head back against his chest. âhmm?âÂ
âno.âÂ
âno?â heâd repeat. you nodded your head, submitting to him without question. he was peeved that you didnât 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. âlet me fix itâŠâ
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.Â
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 couldnât help but gape at his thundering cock beneath his shorts, salivating at just the thought of him filling your mouth.Â
but he said nothing else, stunned in his place; how could he not be when you regarded him with ardor, quivering hands?
âpleaseâŠâ you said, your cheek coming to nuzzle against his thigh, one hand gripping the back of his calf. he couldnât reject you like this. not when he wanted you so dearly.Â
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.Â
âgo on, love,â he was breathless. âyou can take it, canât you?âÂ
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 didnât 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.Â
he was both sweet and salty, a sensation youâve 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.Â
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.Â
âjust like that, babyââ he stuttered out, voice cracking when you took him whole down your throat. you breathed through your nose. âfuck,â he cursed, your lips puckering, even stimulating him with the top ridges of your teeth. he let out a deep moan.Â
âperfect,â he commented, but you thought you misheard him for a moment. âyouâre perfect.âÂ
it persuaded you furtherânot like much was neededâ 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.Â
âwhere?â he demanded of you. you paused, but didnât 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 didnât relent. my mouth, your actions screamed, and he didnât 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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
âtaste like me,â he commented against your lips. you beam.Â
âmustâve been good, then?â you knew it was. but you wanted to hear it from him.Â
he snickered. âguess so.âÂ
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 didnât have you cumming on his tongue.Â
âitâs past my bedtime,â you remarked, raising your brows. his own scrunched. âwhat?â
âlet meââÂ
you shushed him.Â
âon the house.âÂ
you were gone before he could respond, skipping up the steps, ready to set your plan in motion. he didnât know what was coming, not yet, but he surely would once you closed the door to your room, and stripped of your clothes.Â
you left him there pondering. he was entirely at a lossâ you skirting away with ease, high tail with that lacey materialâ and vanished without another word. it had lando breathing heavily, hands running through his hair. shit, he thought, this was bad.Â
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, landoâs 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 maxâs room in your childhood home.Â
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 youâd been craving since his fingertips caressed your knee.Â
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 youâve never seen before. in certain lights, especially beneath the italian sun, it bulged outward. you wondered what itâd feel like between your thighs. your fingers wandered along your soaked skin, breasts reacting to your touch, taut beneath your palms.Â
lando had just shut the door to his room, shaking off the sweat that dribbled down his forehead. and his windows were openâ the curtains swaying back and forthâ and he heard your call.Â
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.Â
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.Â
you were swollen hot, but never to the same degree you were on his lap just the previous night.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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 youâve ever felt. besides his fingers, that is.Â
lando couldnât 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.Â
and spellcasted he was.Â
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 worldâs most sweet nectar. he was greedy, selfish even, and knew then that he had to be yours. he didnât give a fuck what max said, thought, cared about this moment. it would belong to him and him aloneâ your saccharine temper.Â
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.Â
you were.Â
you thought of his face. how it contorted with pleasure while you sucked him off. youâd remember the sounds he madeâ whimpers of desperate, wicked natureâ 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 brotherâs best friend this way, but that thought came and went just as the tides changed.Â
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 wasnât going to last long.
surely he wouldnât, not when he heard his name carry through the air. his name rolling off your tongue. his name in the form of a whimper.Â
âlando,â 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 wasnât an elegant movementâ rather messy and untamedâ but thatâs how it was when it came to you, wasnât it? nothing was going to be easy about this relationship he conjured up in his head, but for you, though itâd be worthwhile.Â
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.Â
the morning that followed was a quiet one. you and the rest of the vacation group of boys were headed out to one of italyâs 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.Â
when you arrived at the beach, you stuck closely to maxâs 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.Â
good, you thought, crossing your legs over one another. serves him right.Â
youâd 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 thatâd heâd pull some feral shit in front of you and your brother.Â
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.Â
âwhatâdya think of chris?â 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. youâd known him for a good majority of your life, but neverâŠreally thought of him.Â
âheâs a good guy.â Â
lando was sitting up now. listening.Â
âwell,â max shrugged, taking your nonchalant answer with grace. âasked me if it was okay to give him your number. think he fancies you.âÂ
your expression dropped. chris fancied you? in what universe could he, when he couldnât even manage a conversation with you. you werenât even sure he could ever muster the courage to look you in the eye, for that matter.Â
âandâŠwhat did you say?âÂ
max looked at you with his sunglasses on. you saw your reflection in them.Â
âthink itâs fine. âeâs a good lad. nice. well-mannered.â he emphasized his last point. was that a jab at your previous boyfriends? âbesidesâŠi wanna see you happy.âÂ
it was touching, truly, that your brother cared for you on such a protective level, but you didnât need him meddling with your romantic life. not when the man who consumed your sexual thoughts sat a few bodies next to you.Â
your eyes drifted to find landoâs. he was already glaring, sending sharp daggers your direction. he heard it all, and was about to combust with jealousy. you could see it. youâd use it.Â
âmaybe.â 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.Â
you jumped to your feet, sunglasses on, and tore your cover up from your body. you didnât look back to know what landoâs expression wasâ worshiping.Â
chrisâ head popped up when he saw you approaching him. he shifted a bit, as if he were preening his feathers.Â
âcatch any good ones?â you asked, your feet touching the water. chris cleared his throat.Â
âsome,â he gestured to the large waves. âcurrent is strong today.âÂ
you edged further into the water until your knees were covered.Â
âyou looked good out there, at least i think so.â 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, shouldnât you?Â
âreally?â he was shocked. âyou were watching?âÂ
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 wasnât as built as lando was, but you shouldnât even be making the comparisons.Â
you stopped when the water was just beneath your breasts. water seeped in through your top, and you noticed that chrisâ eyes caught on the fabric. typical.Â
âwhat do you do for work, then? are you a student?â you managed a brief conversation with him. chris met you at your side.Â
âbusiness student in scotland,â he confirmed, but he wasnât all cocky about it. you thought that heâd boast, but he didnât. âyourself?âÂ
you told him your plans. he was impressed that youâd accomplished so much at your age.Â
and your conversation with him went on, but not without the darkness of landoâs envy over your shoulder. youâd taken a few glances over chrisâ shoulder to see his reddened expression, watching the pair of you share a few laughs.Â
he wanted this day to be fucking over. he wanted you in his bed. and he would have it one way or anotherâ whatever it takes.Â
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 didnât feel like a night out. the sun had gotten to you, and you were rather tired.Â
âyouâre sure you donât wanna go?â max asked you in the foyer, waiting for the rest of his band to go along.
âiâm sure. besides, i could use a night in.â your brother respected your choice and didnât push you further. before he left with his friends, he did turn and leave you with one comment.
âlandoâs here, too, in case you need anything.âÂ
and then he was gone, tailending with chris flashing you a smile.Â
shit.Â
shit, shit, shit. you knew you were in for it now. there was no way that youâd escape lando for the evening, unsure how he caught notice that youâd be staying in for the night.Â
when the door shut and the house was empty, you raced up to your room. youâd worn a floor length slip dress when youâd 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.Â
âjust you and me, yeah?â
you gulped, taking a few steps back. he looked furious yet unbothered at the same time.Â
âwhat to do, what to doâŠâ he began to saunter down the steps when you moved back. âin this big, empty houseâŠ?âÂ
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.Â
your back was against the stone balustrade, hands spread wide to support yourself. your heart was racing, but you wouldnât let him see that. wouldnât show him the effect he had.Â
lando wore a black ln4 shirt from his collection, along with tan sweatpants. it was an understatement to say he didnât look fucking good.Â
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.Â
âheâs a good lad, innhe?âÂ
you met his eyeâ his blue, green eyes that were swarmed with a darkness you didnât believe him capable of.Â
âheâs nice.â you said, referring to chris. because he was. he was respectful.Â
ââheâs nice.ââ lando mocked, scoffing. he turned his head to the side to look over your shoulder to the coastline that surrounded the villa.Â
âyes, heâs nice.â you bit back, brows furrowing. âmore than i can say for you.â
landoâs expression froze, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. his jaw tightened as he processed your words, foot tapping against the stone.Â
âyeah? you donât think iâm good to you?âÂ
whatever this wasâŠyou 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.Â
he tsked, tilting your chin to meet his eyes with his index finger. âweâll see.âÂ
and then his lips were on yours. ravaging. starving. he was a man that has been deprived of you for far too longâ twenty four hoursâ 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.Â
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.Â
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 youâd 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.Â
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 throatâ 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. âmarksââÂ
you reminded him, but he didnât care.
âfuck what they think.âÂ
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.Â
his relentless pursuit of your neck didnât 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 youâve ever seen. not the waterfalls of france, not the cascades of lake comoâ but this, right hereâ lando norris drooling on your chest.
âwhat would you do with âniceâ?â he mumbled into your skin, attacking one of your perked nipples with his tongue. you gasped, biting your lip to retain a moan.Â
âhe could treat me well,â you seethed through clenched teeth, gripping the strands of his brunette curls. you felt him vibrate with a hum.Â
âyouâd eat him alive.â 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. âwhat would he doââ a nip of his teeth against your nipple, you jolted, hips bucking forward with an anxious pension for friction. âwith all of this?âÂ
you were at a loss for words, drowning in his sweetness.Â
âlet it go to wasteâŠâ 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. âa shame.âÂ
you agreed mercilessly, nodding your head with a whimper. it elicited a laugh from him.Â
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.Â
your hand was still threaded at the base of his neck, continuing to tug at his strands. itâs how you told him you needed him, but that wouldnât be enough. not for lando.
âwhat do you want?â he asked, looking up at you from his seated position, face wedged between your legs. you gaped at him, breathless and flushed.Â
âyour mouthââ you pant, but before you could finish he licked a long stripe down your folds. âgod, fuckââÂ
ânot god,â lando corrected. âjust me, baby.âÂ
âlando, landoâŠ!â 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?Â
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.Â
your honeyed cunt that he was addicted to. he knew youâd taste like heaven, but this was all the more holy than he could fathom.Â
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.Â
his nose applied pressure to your clitâ the perfect combinationâ and you knew that you werenât 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. heâs perfect.Â
âplease, please,â you didnât know what you were begging for.Â
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.Â
he stood with ease, as if he wasnât 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.Â
âyou were right,â he huffed. you felt his retentive anger. âdonât know if iâm nice.âÂ
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.Â
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 brotherâs best friend.Â
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 didnât let you graze his thigh.Â
âyouâre being mean,â you whined, attempting to twist out of his hold. but you didnât prevail.Â
landoâs lips met yours with a kiss of depravity. he pulled away, but you chased him, your head leveraging from the bed.Â
âam i?âÂ
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.Â
âthink you like it, love.âÂ
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.Â
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.Â
âthis what you need?â his tip teased your entrance. your eyes rolled back into your head with a frenzied nod. âyeah? think you can take it?âÂ
âyes, yes! i can, i can, please landoâŠâ your hand latched around the back of his neck, the other to his shoulder.Â
it didnât 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 youâve feltâ his fingers, his tongue, all works of masteryâ 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.Â
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 wouldnât 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.Â
landoâs 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.Â
âmove,â you urged him, breaking him free of this torment. his eyes flared wide. âneed you to move.âÂ
need
such an all encompassing word that would drive him mad.Â
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 youâ the first, starstruck timeâ 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 youâd become in just the few days heâd been around you. how undone he became. he was a lost cause the minute you made a jest to him at the dinner table.Â
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.Â
feeling the way you began to tighten around him, how you became barely lucid beneath him. âso good,â you mewled, finding no other words but to praise him.Â
ânothing compares,â he groaned, his head falling into the crook of your neck. âyouâll be mine then, yeah?âÂ
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.Â
âyours, yours,â 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.Â
he came inside of you. you felt it, the heat from his cock. but he made no effort to move. you didnât want him to.Â
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.Â
his head was buried deep into your neck, breathing you in. you soothed him, just as much as you riled him to no end.Â
âdid you mean it?â you asked, voice hoarse.Â
lando hummed.Â
âabout us.âÂ
you felt his teeth break into a smile against your skin. he raised his head to look at you. âi did.â your breath caught in your throat. âdonât give a shit what maxâll say. weâll figure it out, wonât we?âÂ
you nodded in agreement. your brother would simply have to deal with this. heâd get over it in time, youâre sure, and it would be the best for both of you. no longer would you yearn at a distance for a man you thought didnât 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.Â
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.Â
it wasnât 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 heâs been searching years for.Â
and now you were here, sleeping soundly in his arms.Â
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.Â
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.
âmate,â he called max over. he met him at his side.Â
âthis yours?â he pointed down at it, and his face went ghastly white. no fucking way.
âmotherfucker.â
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
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI â° 10:32
You tell Bakugou once that you donât know how to take the train home, and he almost blasted your ears off with semi-yelling (or full-on yelling at some point) insults.Â
âHah?â He scoffs, eyes narrowing. This information is new to him, and a surprising one at that.Â
You? The nerd that always bested him when it came to academics, which pissed him off the first few months in U.A.? The person who was not only book smart but was street and people smart as well?Â
The whole goddamn package doesnât know how to take the train?
Really?
Heâs calling bull.
âWhat do you mean you donât know how to take the train home? What kind of idiot doesnât know that?â
âI justââ youâre abashed and really donât know what to say, âI didnât reallyâ Iâve never had the chance to take one until now!â For a consistent honors student, you canât really have everything, can you?
âHowâve you been getting to school and back, then?â
âWe had a driverââ
âFuckinâ courseââ
âBut hey! Listenâin my defenseâmy schools were usually a walking distance from our house.â
âAnd now what? Gonna stand here and wait for a miracle to happen?â
You nudge his side with a frustrated frown (more like a pout, Bakugou thinks.) âQuit it, asshole.â
He backtracks briefly, though you could barely tell at this point. And itâs clear enough that he takes your words into consideration. It could be the fact that you actually look scared shitless right now, something foreign to your typical lax and carefree persona.
âCâmon.â Bakugou grabs you by the arm.
âOwâ hey! Where are we going?â
âYou have to learn somehow, or else youâll look fuckinâ clueless and dumb, nerd.â
You donât argue because you really just wanted to get home, and while you could just call in your driver, you considered that this was important information that would help you in the long run. Besides, you do agree with Bakugou that not knowing how to commute like this is embarrassing, especially at your age.
âWhatâs this?âÂ
Bakugou hands you a card. Itâs decorated with a minimalist logo of Musutafuâs native flower, whose color is your favorite.
âAn IC card,â he simply answers.
Itâs cute, you thought. You noticed how the other commuters had the standard design, so Bakugou must've gotten it personalized to your preference. How thoughtful.
âYou couldâve just helped me get a ticket, though,â you murmur. You fiddle with the card in your hand, glancing at him with a puzzled expression. âI donât think Iâll be using this card that often. Itâll be a waste.â
âThen try and use it as often as you can, nerd.â
âIâll pay you back for thisâhow much was it?â
âForget it.â
âReally, Bakââ
âForget it,â he barks. âKeep up, you shitty extra. Or else youâd miss the last train to your station.â Bakugou starts walking, and you follow suit.
You can load your IC card at the ticket machines or the nearest ATMs. Different stations call for different ticket gates that obviously have different fares. The expiration of cards usually depends on what provider you got them fromâ
âWhat do I do now?â
Youâre hesitantly in front of the ticket gate, with Bakugou on the other side. Youâre like a kid whoâs lost their mother in the mall.
âJustââ Bakugou had to take a deep breath and not make a scene in the train station. He pinched the bridge of his nose, calling for all his ancestors to give him the strength to remain patient.
âPlace your shitty card on the card reader. Thatâs it.â
You do as youâre taught, and you awed when the gates opened and let yourself walk through with a stupidly big smile on your face. âI did it!â
Bakugou thinks itâs fucking stupid of him to think that your enthusiasm for mundane things was cute. But fuck, something must be wrong with him because suddenly he feels a flurry of butterflies lodged in his throat, his heart beating ridiculously fast.Â
âYeah, yeah, whatever.âÂ
He gives you directions, how to navigate through Musutafu without getting lost, and the basic stations youâll be passing by to get to your station. He sees you type most of the things he says on your phone, and the way you were so eager to learn was a sight to see, really.
Boarding the metro, people were just as eager to get home as you two. So you two stood, not that there was much room to do anything about it.
âHold onto the handle unless you want to fall on your ass,â Bakugou says. His tone is hushed to not disturb the other passengers. At least he followed basic commuting etiquette.Â
âItâs so beautiful,â you breathe out. The passing buildings were as huge as those of U.A.âs, if not bigger. With the golden hue of the apparent descent of the sun below the horizon, Musutafu just became more beautiful in your eyes.
He scoffs.
âWhatâs so interestinâ about a buncha tacky buildings? Never seen one before you came here?â
âOf course I have; theyâre just not like this.â
Bakugou follows your line of sight, and he thinks about it carefully. He couldnât see what you saw, but maybe itâs because he grew up looking at this scenery. It doesnât amaze him as much as it did when he was younger, he concludes. To you, this was a first.Â
An experience that could become a core memory in this city. And heâs with you as you live through it. The thought causes a familiar feeling of pride to exude from his chest.
Maybe heâll learn to appreciate more mundane things with you too in the future.
The train stops at another station, and the people scurry out. Once in motion, you were surprised by the speed when it took off, and the motion had you stumbling back. You stumble against Bakugou.
âWhat did I say about keeping a firm hold on the handles, you shitty extra? Thatâs what those are for.â Whether itâs by instinct or unintentional, Bakugou guides your hand to hold onto the support pole. He doesnât let go, and you didnât make a comment about it.
âSorry! Still getting used to it,â you quietly laugh. âI hope the people here donât think Iâm really that inexperienced when it comes to taking the metro home,â you told him. âItâs embarrassing to think that I havenât taken one until now.â
Bakugou thinks itâs alright because you were actually on set to learn. No matter what those other extras say or comment, no matter if they give you unimpressed glances, heâs there to grant them one of his own spine-chilling glares if they had the balls to do so.Â
A passenger who appeared to be around your age stood up from his seat. âExcuse me, you can take my seat. I get off at the next stop,â he says. Youâre a bit hesitant to take the offer, but he reassures you that itâs fine. Itâll be an awkward death for you if you donât accept it, because now heâs standing. âPlease, I insist.â
Unknown to you, Bakugou had an obvious scowl on his face until the stranger left.
âYou look like youâre about to shit yourself.â
âShut up, Iâm not.â
âJealous?â
âHah? Why would I beââ
âShh!â you kicked his shoe with yours.
âQuiet, remember?â
Bakugou rolls his eyes, still frowning. You hold his free hand, cheekily smiling when he tries to free it from your hold. And in the end, he lets you do whatever the fuck it is that you want, but he would never ever admit that he was jealous of some nameless extra. Heâs too far into liking you to help you board a train, get you a personalized IC card, miss his stop two stations ago because yours was still three stations after his, but he doesnât think heâd be vocal about it anytime soon.
Heâll leave it to you to confess.
Then again, you already knew.
Bakugou Katsuki would not go above and beyond like this for anyone else, but he unknowingly does for you.
SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugou fluff#bakugou drabble#bakugo x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugo drabble#mha x reader#mha fluff#mha drabbles#bnha x reader#bnha fluff#bnha drabble#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#âčđč đČđïžêÖ¶ÖžÖą ÊŸÊŸ
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âĄâËâïžă»â⧠đ»đźđ»đźđșđ¶'đ đđźđ»đđČđ± đđŒđ đłđŒđż đđŒ đčđŒđ»đŽ & đđŒđ đ±đ¶đ±đ»'đ đžđ»đŒđ âĄâËâïžă»ââ§
: ÌÌâ tropes: fem! reader đ„ he's obsessed to the max đ„ ceo x baker đ„ grumpy x sunshine đ„ she talks a lot x he listens a lot đ„ spoils the literal shit out of you đ„ mention of parental death đ„ major fluff đ„ sexual content in vague details đ„ alternate universe đ„ super soft nanami đ„ close proximity đ„ he loves kissing the fuck out of you
: ÌÌâ words: 7.7k
: ÌÌâ notes: you guys are so sweet for supporting my toji fanfic which is why i wanted to write another and this time its about my husband, the father of our children, the man who deserves every beautiful thing in this world. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!
Nanami Kento entered your bakery at exactly six o' clock. Â
You carefully observed the moments he dedicated to perusing the array of pastries, the vibrant mountain of macaroons, and the freshly baked, warm casse-croûte that you unfailingly prepared for him when he clocked out. There was a tender quality to his countenance, noticeable in the slight release of tension between his brows as the soft, buttery flakes dissolved on his tongue in your presence. Without fail, he consistently left a generous tip in your travel jar, dedicated to a solo trip to Malaysia.
"Did you know they've got this thing about not wearing yellow in Malaysia?" you mentioned during your initial meeting, eyeing the distinctive black-dotted tie worn by the stoic salaryman. "Well, not that your tie would get you in trouble; it's not entirely yellow. In fact, I think it's perfect as it is, just like your hair, which also has a touch of yellow.âÂ
Please cut your tongue off.Â
Anticipating a polite nod and perhaps a slightly regretful five-dollar tip left in the jar, you were taken aback when he queried, âWhy is that?âÂ
âOh, uh . . . a bunch of protesters wore the color during a demand for their prime minister to step down," you stumbled, feeling a twinge of embarrassment for veering off into an unintentional crash course. Dropping trivia about Malaysia wasn't exactly the same as flirting. "So, it's kind of become a symbolism for protest and, well, threat. I read it in a book once. I don't know if it's a legitimate law, though."
âDo you like reading?â he asked, still interested in conversing with you. âMost people would Google information.âÂ
âI like reading. Itâs easier to retain information that way.âÂ
Nanami acknowledged your gesture with a nod of gratitude as he accepted the casse-croûte and exited your bakery. Anticipating that he might not return due to his reserved nature and your awkward attempts at compliment-flirting, you were surprised to find that he was, in fact, full of surprises.
Nanami became a regular visitor. Day after day, for the past year, he arrived at precisely six o' clock. He continued his routine, whether he purchased a box of pastries, a pair of bagged bread loaves, or simply a casse-croûte and a small cup of milk coffee. You always prepared his order five minutes ahead of time, just in case you were occupied with other customers.
"Enjoy!" you chirped, casting a warm smile at the customer you just served as the bakery slowly emptied, leaving only Nanami browsing the delightful array of small cakes. "Good evening, Mr. Nanami!"
Nanami raised his head in your direction. "Good evening." He finally settled on the black forest cake from the open freezer and brought it to the counter.
"Special occasion?" you inquired as you rang him out, sneakily not charging him for the casse-croûte and coffee. There was a special occasion of your own that you were eager to share, hanging from the tip of your tongue.
"An intern's birthday."
"Sounds fun!" You had been saving up for your birthday present since summer, and Nanami had played a significant role. "When's your birthday?"
"July third."
Your eyes widened with surprise. "No way! Mine is July sixth. Weâre summer babies."
âHappy belated birthday,â he said, fishing for his wallet, gaze barely meeting yours.Â
"Same to you." Offering the sandwich and coffee, you extended them towards him. "Consider it a belated birthday treat."
Nanamiâs brows crinkled. âI cannot accept.âÂ
"Why not? It's a gift." You slid the items closer with a subtle nudge, leaving him little room to refuse. "And you've given me a priceless gift, Mr. Nanami." Your eyes hinted at the tip jar's location, which now lay empty.Â
âWere you robbed?â he asked, concern evident in his voice.Â
âWhatâ? No! Oh my god. Youâre so funny.â A chuckle escaped behind your fist, and he observed you momentarily before glancing away. "I'm heading to Malaysia next week!"
Nanami gave a subtle nod. Although his lack of a more animated response disappointed you, you understood that shortness was his nature. "Congratulations.â
"Thank you, Mr. Nanami. Your generous tips really made a difference. They covered half of our trip.â
âOur? Itâs not a solo trip?â Â
You let out a little nervous laugh. Should you really be telling Nanami about your crippling love life? Would he even be interested? Well, he seemed to listen carefully when you talk. Maybe he wouldnât care, but you really needed someone to talk to about this. Unfortunately, all your friends were too busy with their marriages to care.
âWell?â Nanami prompted.Â
"Right, sorry. It's justâI've actually been seeing someone. Funny enough, we met in a Facebook group for solo travelers. He lives in a nearby town.â
Unexpectedly, Nanami's first question caught you off guard. "Can you trust him?" His concern surfaced, causing you to pause. "I'm only asking because you met this man online. You can't trust strangers on the internet."
"Thank you, Mr. Nanami, but Iâm capable enough to know about stranger danger," you said with a funny smile, dismissing his parental concern. "Besides, weâve gone on a few dates over the past month."
Nanami's frown remained intact. "Correct me if Iâm wrong, but are you paying for him, too?"
"Yes."
âWhy?â Nanami asked, firmly placing his palms on the counter, making it clear he wasn't leaving until he was convinced you wouldn't get in trouble during your Malaysian adventure.
"What do you mean 'why'?"
His mouth opened but then closed into a thin line, his forehead lines deepening. "Itâs not my place to tell you whatâs right and what isnâtâ"
"Yes, youâre right about that," you interrupted.
"âbut this is bordering on recklessness. You cannot use your tripâs money to pay for a man youâve known for a mere month. Why is he even in the travelerâs group if he cannot afford to pay for himself?"
"Mr. Nanâ"
"You are being scammed."Â
Your teeth clenched together. You rarely got impatient. Years in the hospitality industry and dealing with misogynistic tenants didn't break you. Even setting up your bakery and almost draining your savings didn't dim your optimism.Â
But getting scolded by someone who barely spoke more than five sentences to you in a whole year of being a regular? That's pushing it.
He didn't know you or Toji, the guy you're seeing. He didnât understand how much you appreciated him accompanying you. So what if you covered his share of the trip expenses? Toji promised to pay you back, and he's been paying the bills for your dates. They might not be fancy, but it's the gesture that matters.
Sure, Nanami chipped in some money, and you're thankful for that. But he has no right to question you. Other people also contributed to your travel fund; it's not like he single-handedly financed the whole trip. You appreciated his support, but he was not in a position to lecture you.
With a sigh, you managed to contain your frustration and said, "Have a great rest of your night, Mr. Nanami.â
Nanami's frustration was palpable as he stood firm, his gaze piercing through the windows of your soul. âI suggest you take my advice into serious consideration. It would greatly upset me if you had the chance to visit one of your favorite countries taken from you.âÂ
You didn't bother watching him go. Instead, your discovery awaited you at the counterâthe money for the coffee and casse-croĂ»te lay there, accompanied by a crumpled yellow note that had slipped to the floor. Moving around the counter, you picked it up and smoothed out its wrinkles.
What greeted you was your own name scrawled across the sticky note, repeated around fifty times, the letters overlapping in a chaotic dance. Some were hastily scratched out, while others were executed with perfect cursive precision. You didnât know what to make of it.
During your confusion, a new customer walked in. Quickly, you pocketed the note, focused on carrying on with your day despite the lingering frustration that Nanami's cryptic message had left in its wake.
Toji never showed up.
You waited for him for two agonizing hours, extending the torture even more after your flight had taken off. It dawned on you that he likely didn't bother getting a ticket. He probably pocketed the money you sent him and vanished into thin air. Every attempt to reach him failed miserablyâyour calls were forwarded, and the fifth one hammered the heartbreaking truth that he had blocked your number. To compound your misery, you sent him a string of text messages that refused to deliver your pain. You didn't even know where he lived, as your encounters were always in the obscure locations of your budgeted dates.
The thought of reporting him to the police crossed your mind, accusing him of theft, but the lack of photographic evidence left you helpless. To make matters worse, he hated taking pictures, and you were uncertain if the name he provided was even real. All that remained was a flicker of hope that you might cross paths with the bastard and unleash your pent-up rage with a hard kick to his dick.Â
With a heavy heart, you gathered your strength, brushed away the tears until not a single trace remained on your lashes, and lugged your suitcase and carry-on outside the airport, hoping to hail a cab.
The idea of facing the upcoming days at work felt agonizing, goading you to spend them in the isolation of your shabby apartment. You were engrossed in a depressing routineâmicrowaved dinners, aimless hours on the couch, and a marathon of old cable TV shows.
As hunger struck again, you contemplated your options. Baking seemed like a possibility, but motivation had abandoned you. Pasta could be an option, but the lack of noodles and tomato sauce made it impractical. So, you settled for the one thing that required no ingredients: crying.
At least that was free.Â
Despite the inner turmoil, you mustered the strength to shoulder your overcoat, sporting your fleece pajamas printed with candy canes and well-worn second-hand boots.Â
The short walk to the corner store felt longer than usual, the biting cold making you clutch your threadbare coat tighter. Your teeth chattered in protest as you entered, and the rush of warm air was a momentary relief against the chill. Fingers numb, you mindlessly reached for familiar comfort snacksâchips, chocolate milk, anything to dull the ache.
A hand much larger than yours beat you to the last packet of croissants.
âAh, sorry.â You let it go. âAll yoursââ You choked as you looked up, and up, at Nanami staring at you wide-eyed, his hazel eyes flickering at a rapid speed as if he were hallucinating your presence. Your face flushed with embarrassment, and the weight of the past five days crammed upon youâhis uncanny prediction, your own naivety, and the sting of being swindled. âMr. Nanami . . . â
âArenât you supposed to be inââ
âGood night.â
With a dismissive shake of your head, you left the basket on the counter, mumbled a quick apology, and retreated back into the biting cold.Â
Youâve faced tons of humiliating momentsâslipping in front of customers, your purse strap getting snagged in a door and dragging you back, and that one unforgettable instance when a little boy labeled your eyebrows as caterpillars in front of a line of onlookers. Yet, none of those incidents could hold a candle to the awkwardness of bumping into the very man who had warned you about the ill-fated choice of paying for a stranger's tripâstranger nowâwhen it was supposed to be your trip.Â
You felt a firm grip on your wrist, making your restless pacing suddenly stop.
Startled, you turned around to find a pair of expressionless hazel eyes and a slightly out-of-breath figure. Now is not the time to ogle Mr. Nanamiâs broad shoulders, you idiot!
Releasing your wrist, he handed over a white, plastic bag. With a raised eyebrow, you peered inside to inspect its contents. It held everything from your shopping basket, including the last packet of croissants. Even more unexpected, he had paid for it all.Â
âIâll pay you back tomorrow,â you assured, your eyes already scanning for the nearest ATM, just in case you forgot. "But for now." You pulled out the packaged croissants and extended them toward him. Your body was shaking, not because of November but because of how you were scammed after being forewarned by Nanami. âPlease. Take it.âÂ
He took your small hand in both of his, the warmth immediately melting the tension in your body. âSo cold.âÂ
A soft giggle escaped you at the obvious observation, and you placed your free hand on top of his. "So warm." Sniffling, tears welled up in your eyes. "You know what else is warm? The sun. And it's yellow. It's so yellow."
âFactually speaking, it is white.âÂ
You wiped an arm across your nose. âWhat?âÂ
âThe sun. Itâs white. Itâs only yellow in children's books.âÂ
You weren't about to argue with the guy who vindicated your slip-ups. Still, given the circumstances, you wished he'd soften the bluntness and let you bask in the illusion that the sun was a simple shade of yellow.
"I've always loved the color yellow," you mumbled. "Maybe getting scammed was a blessing. I'd probably get fined for wearing yellow otherwise. I couldn't afford to mess up on my trip. Besides, it all depends on the shade, right? Imagine how many fines I'd rack up just testing which shade of yellow suits meâ"
Nanami tugged you close, capturing your lips with his.
A sharp intake of breath filled your lungs, eyes widening in surprise. Instinctively, your hands pushed him away, fingers grazing your tingling lips.
âIâm sorry,â he whispered. âFuck. Iâm so sorry.âÂ
âNo, itâs okay. DonâtâDonât worry. About it.â You tucked your lips in and tasted chocolate and mintâtwo of your favorite combinations. Nanami always seemed like the kind of man who would hate both flavors independently and dependently. âYouâre okay. I meanâYouâre okay in general. Youâre not okay with kissing. Youâre probably great, Iâm sure.â Your tongue traced the curve of your lower lip, and Nanamiâs eyes followed the motion. âOh, God. Iâm so sorry.âÂ
You walked up to him, grabbed the lapels of his coat, and tugged him down a notch, your lips colliding with his.Â
Nanami's touch was calculated, his hand sailing onto your cheek, feeding warmth to your cold ear before vanishing into the labyrinth of your hair. Simultaneously, the other serpentined to the small of your back, his magnetic energy drawing you snugly against his chest. His warm tongue delicately swept across your lower lip, an unspoken cue that encouraged you to part your lips in response.
Nanami deepened the kiss, your tongues stroking against one another feverishly as if it were your last kiss. Who knows? Maybe it couldâve been. But the way he kissed with such desperation, releasing soft moans, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath, made you think that maybe this was just the start.
And you kissed him back just as needy.
If your hands slightly released their hold on his lapels, you'd gently cup the sides of his neck, rising on your tiptoes. And if your calves protested, you'd draw him down, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers entwining in his pale, golden locks. The taste of mint chocolate lingered on your lips, and a smile curved on your mouth as he stole a quick peck, pulling back just to gaze into your eyes for a moment before kissing you again.
Youâre not sure how long you two stood and kissed there. Nanami was the one who always took the lead, savoring the taste of your pink, tender tongue, kissing your chilly cheeks and dewy eyes. The desire for each other made it hard to break away, yet the need for a breath of air was undeniable.
Finally, you decided to be the one to step back, signalling the end of your first kiss with him.
Your bottom lip tingled as you pulled it in, jaw aching from the infectious smile that had taken over your face. You couldn't help stealing glances at the tall man before you, who returned your gaze with a soft, almost imperceptible grin. Yet, in his eyes, under the gentle glow of the streetlight, you could see the excitement and joy of kissing you, twinkling brightly.
âI'm gonnaââ
âI shouldââ
Both of you sighed; you with a soft chuckle, and him with a discreet throat-clearing.
âI've already missed quite a few workdays,â you said. âGotta earn that dough if I want to make next monthâs rent.â Nanami didnât quite catch your bakery pun, but he nodded in agreement.
âRight,â you murmured, subtly veering to the side, putting on a little show as you started to walk away. You admitted itâyou were a hopeless romantic. You secretly hoped for him to steal a kiss on your cheek and watch until you safely disappeared around the corner. âIâm off now.â
âGoodnight,â Nanami replied, subtly licking his lips for the sixteenth time. Yes, you were keeping count.Â
âNight-night.âÂ
Nanami strolled down his end of the sidewalk. You followed suit, turning down your street.Â
Luck had only sometimes been on your side when it came to men and their romantic gestures. Oh well. At least you experienced a passionate kiss from one of your favorite customers. Asking for more seemed a bit too muchâ
A hand gently pressed against your back, and as you turned, it gracefully curved around your waist, drawing you in. Nanami caught your gasp and kissed you with an urgency that doubled, holding onto you as if his life depended on it, lifting you off your toes. Three sweet pecks later, he released you, both of your faces flushed.
"Get home safely," he whispered, walking away without a second glance.
That night, you couldn't help but giggle into your mascara-stained pillow.
The morning after, you were a whirlwind of joy and light, twirling through the bakery with trays of freshly baked pastries, replenishing boxes and take-out essentials. You greeted customers with an extra dose of sweetness, and to top it off, you even handed out a tray of delectable chocolate jam cookies. And you wore a yellow bow in your hair.Â
The oven beeped as the casse-croĂ»tes finished baking, signaling their readiness for Nanami's arrival in just five minutes. You took special care in preparing his milk coffee, indulging in a quiet chuckle at your undeniable favoritism. Though the neighborhood bakery wasn't bustling with a large customer base, your attention was solely dedicated to himâyour only regular as everyone else buzzed in the distant city an hour away.
With his coffee prepared and two casse-croĂ»tes packed, you added a chocolate-mint cookie to the bag. Then, you decided to rearrange the shelves of gift baskets to pass the time.Â
Setting up the ladder, you ascended the shaky steps until you were eye to eye with the fifth shelf. Heights were never your forte, which, in hindsight, was another reason why flying to Malaysia was out of the question. The more you thought about being scammed, the more your heart wrenched from your lost trip. Youâd again brought out your tip jar and prayed the odds were in your favor. Hell, maybe youâd ask Nanami to join you if you decided to take your relationship to the next level.Â
As you secured the bow on the basket, your gaze landed on the clockâ6:30 p.m., and Nanami was a no-show.Â
Anxiety surged through you in an instant.
Did he leave you hanging? Maybe that kiss was a turnoff, and he chose to disappear rather than be upfront about finding you too overwhelming. Did your breath smell bad? Were you a terrible kisser? Or, worse, did something happen to him?
A torrent of worries flooded your mind, breaking through like a burst dam. Each imagined scenario seemed more nightmarish than the last, causing your head to spin. Recent events, like Toji's betrayal, fueled this self-doubt, made you question your intuition. While Nanami was clearly wealthy, consistently tipping a twenty each day, you found yourself questioning whether he had plans to use you for something else. As if that weren't enough, doubts crept in about your appearance and your optimistic, extroverted personality.
It started to make sense, didn't it? Nanami led a tranquil life, sticking to a routine of work and home, while you were a whirlwind of spontaneityâconstantly buzzing with new ideas and discussions, unable to sit still or resist laughter at the silliest jokes. Everything seemed to fascinate you, yet nothing appeared to faze him. How could you have been so naive to entertain the thoughtâ
âGood evening.âÂ
âAh!â you yelped at the sudden baritone intruding into your thoughts. Your foot, betrayed by the unexpected intrusion, lost its balance on the step. Your arms flailed in a desperate attempt to find stability as you teetered backward, the impending hazard of a severe concussion and potential spinal cord injury looming.
But just as you were prepared to shake hands with God, Nanami's powerful arms swooped in at the last possible moment. With a secure hold, he cradled you in a bridal style, and you clung to him like a shaking puppy, arms looped around his neck.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his breath slightly labored.
You gingerly peeled one eye open to peek at him. His expression was one of calm disorientation; eyebrows knit together while his lips maintained a straight, tight line.
"Yes," you whispered, soothed by his timely intervention.
Nanami steadied you back onto your feet but maintained a firm grip on your elbows. âLook at me.â As you did, he inspected each eye closely while keeping his hand steady on your left cheek. He checked below your jaw, down to your dusty palms, which he cleaned with his silk handkerchief. He also patted down your tousled hair. "Are you sure you're okay?"
âMm-hmm.â You could cry from how gentle he was with you. âA-Are you okay?âÂ
âI am now.â He took a composed breath and effortlessly retrieved his suitcase from the floor, brushing off invisible dust. âI apologize for being late. My . . . car broke down.âÂ
"What? Oh my god! Do you need me to give you my mechanic's number? I promise he's not as bad as the Google reviews say. He's actually quite a sweet man. And he gives me a friends and family discount because my father was close with him." You beamed, and Nanami squinted his eyes as if the brightness of your smile momentarily blinded him, but he tried his best to reciprocate.
âDo your parents live here?âÂ
You shook your head. âThey passed away a while ago.âÂ
âI apologize.âÂ
"Don't be." You quickly switched subjects by fluttering towards the counter to pick up his items. âTell me how your coffee tastes.â You turned around, adding, âI switched to a new brand of milkââ
Nanami pressed his lips against yours, momentarily freezing you. His seamless transition afterward could have fooled an onlooker into thinking you'd been married for years. "Thank you.â He took a sip and nodded thoughtfully. âItâs great. Everything you make is great.âÂ
âThanks,â you mumbled, sudden shyness enveloping you. From the kiss? The compliment? Him? You didnât know at all. âDo you still need me to give you the mechanicâs number?âÂ
âItâs all right. I had it fixed. Minor battery issue, thatâs all.âÂ
âAh, okay. See, thatâs why I prefer to walk.âÂ
Nanami glanced elsewhere, nodding. âThen, would you like to walk with me after youâve closed?âÂ
âOh.â A subtle flicker of surprise crossed your features. Nonchalantly, you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before smiling warmly. âOf course, yes. Iâd love to go on a walk with you. Where are we going? There are lots of cafĂ©s in a nearby shopping district. I know all the best places to take you to.â A grave thought struck you just then. âOh, actually. Hmm.âÂ
Curious, he tilted his head down, meeting your worried gaze. "What is it?"
"Well," you began, your thoughts taking a cautious turn, "you probably have a set time to be home unless you live nearby. In that case, we could spend the entire evening strolling around. Only if you're interested, of course."
Nanamiâs lips twitched. âI live nearby.âÂ
âWhere?â You werenât ashamed to have been so upfront. It was more of a precautionary measure.Â
And he didn't seem bothered, quickly revealing the familiar neighborhood you instantly recognized. It was a fifteen-minute walk from your own place.
"May I step out momentarily to make a call?" Nanami asked, pulling out his phone. It was the latest model you noticedâone that came out last week and mocked your own that was five versions older. âIt will be quick.âÂ
âBy all means.â You had to fix your hair and make-up anyway.Â
Nanami nodded and exited the shop, leaving you to flee behind the counter. As you crouched down to check yourself in the small mirror tucked away in the lower drawer, you couldn't help but feel a warmth on your face from the unexpected collapse, the sweet, brief kiss, and his impeccable navy blue suit decorated with yellow cufflinks. Maybe a café was too casual for him; a restaurant might have been a more suitable choice. An expensive choice. However, you were adamant about not letting Nanami cover the entire cost.
Upon his return, five minutes later, you both settled at one of the three round tables in your bakery (he even pulled out your chair for you). Sipping on your coffees and enjoying the casse-croĂ»tes and chocolate pastries, the conversation seemed somewhat one-sided. Yet, Nanami's aloof demeanor never made you feel inferior for dominating the dialogue. He listened to every word and vowel with his undivided attention, nodding alongside and adding in short sentences when he could relate to your childhood shenanigans.Â
"Wait," he interrupted, causing you to halt in your tracks. The sun cast a warm glow on his face, making his eyes narrow into slits, but God did he look handsome. He extended his hand and brushed a thumb near your lips, discovering a small chocolate smudge. Swiftly, he licked it clean and tidied up the area around your lips with a napkin. "Beautiful."
âWhat?âÂ
Nanami was a deer in headlights. He sunk his head, beating himself up from murmuring his thoughts aloudâat least, thatâs what you concluded. "You look beautiful," he declared with more assurance, his gaze on your face. "You are beautiful, Y/N."
Oh, my.Â
Your heart was going to claw itself out of your chest. You could cook an egg on your face from how heated it had gotten. In fact, you were burning hotter than the sun, which continuously made him squint and blink. âThank you.âÂ
He nodded twice, finishing the remnants of his coffee. Rising, he disposed of the cups and wrappers in the garbage bin, then extended a hand to help you stand. "I'll wait outside while you close up."
At a lightning pace, you ensured that everything in the bakery was safely unplugged and shut off. Grabbing your purse, you gave yourself a quick once-over in the mirror, adjusting your face and hair. Stepping outside, you meticulously locked the door and gates.
Without a word, Nanami entwined his fingers with yours, causing you to smile like an idiot at him. He maintained a straight, vigilant gaze, seemingly unresponsive as you wrapped yourself around his arm. A subtle smirk tugged at your lips when you felt his muscles flex.
You walked for hours, café-hopping and trying pastries, baked goods, and sweet drinks. Every time Nanami attempted to cover the expenses with his cash, you scolded him, insisting that since you had suggested the place, you should be the one to pay. It was a rule you had read about online, and all your friends stuck to it religiously. The thought of Nanami spending his hard-earned money on your interests made you feel incredibly guilty.
As a matter of fact, you were feeling guilty about tons of things. He told you he worked at an investment firm, which meant it was a nine-to-five, likely sporting a migraine he kept hidden, and now he was being dragged around the shopping district by you, forced to listen to you because he was a man who didnât complain, wouldnât complain, and long, story short, you wanted to die.Â
âKento,â you muttered, removing your hand from his, goosebumps rippling on your skin.Â
âYes, darling?âÂ
Your chest felt like it was being clenched in a fist. âI'm . . . Iâm sorry.âÂ
âFor what?âÂ
âFor making you do all this. For making you pay for everything. For dragging you around when you're probably on the verge of exhaustion." Avoiding his gaze, you fixed your eyes on the concrete beneath you. âI know I can be too much sometimesâwell, all the time.â A self-deprecating chuckle escaped your lips. "Exes in my past relationships have made it clear. I get overly excited easily, crave attention like one needs oxygen, trust people too easily to the point of getting scammed, and, well, I don't bring anything particularly special to the table. I'm sorry, Kento. Maybe it's best if we just stay friends?â
Nanamiâs soft fingers lifted your chin up. Your words absolutely shattered his face, leaving you to feel worse than before. His lips were parted into a frown, his brows were scrunched up, brown irises flickering like he couldnât believe you said that. This was the most reaction he had given you in the year that youâve known him.Â
âNo,â he said.Â
You blinked the tears gathered at your waterline. âNo?âÂ
âNo.â Nanami took a calming breath, closing his eyes. His forehead gently pressed against yours. âPlease, let me be selfish for this once. For you. I canât let you goâI wonât let you go."
"Kentoâ"
"I want to do this, Y/N. I want to pay for everything. I want you to drag me around because Iâll never be too tired for you.â Nanami drew back and cradled your sobbing face in his large hands. âI know I fail to show it, darling, but I love your excitement. I love paying attention to every detail of you because youâve become my oxygen source. Youâre a good, kindhearted woman, and anyone would be lucky to be seen by you. And you donât have to bring anything to the table because there isnât one dividing us, keeping us lengths apart.â His lips brushed your forehead, imprinting his words into your mind. "I want us to be more than just friends. I want us to be best friends. Lovers. In this life and the ones that follow."
You could explode.Â
Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, seeking support as if the ground beneath you was about to crumble. Yet, you knew he would catch you, just as before. He was so real, embracing you wholly, both of you breathing in each other's scents to confirm a human like this could exist. How grateful you were he stumbled into your bakery that one rainy night, and how grateful he was that you offered him free coffee and a casse-croĂ»te while he was freezing and trembling. His presence brought life to your bakery, gave you something to look forward to when you were at your lowest, and you gave him . . . everything. You were his everything since the first day.Â
As the shared silence lingered, Nanami's phone shattered the moment, its noisy ring cutting through the haze. You instinctively stepped back, but he clung to your hand as if afraid you might slip away.
Never, Nanami Kento. Youâre stuck with me.Â
When he took out his phone, you caught a glimpse of the contact name: Satoru (assistant).Â
Before you could process the fact Nanami had an assistant, he swiped right. âYeah?âÂ
The voice on the other end resonated with loud cheerfulness in the quiet alleyway. Nanami half-rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. âVery well. Leave it there. Iâll be there when I want to.âÂ
The assistant chuckled and sang his goodbye, the cheerful tone abruptly cutting off as Nanami ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket.
âDo all stockbrokers have assistants?âÂ
He tilted his head. âIâm not a stockbroker.âÂ
âOh? Iâm sorry. I assumed because you worked at an investment firm.âÂ
âYes, I was a stockbroker.â He nodded, warming your hand in his, then casually added, âBut I own a firm now.âÂ
Your brows hit your hairline. âThatâs amazing!âÂ
âThank you. We have several locations around the country. Kento Investments. Have you heard of it?âÂ
Heard of it? You were a client some time ago when you were starting your bakery. All you encountered were glowing reviews about their ethical practices, a refreshing leave from the scheming ways of most investment firms that had previously taken advantage of you. It stood out as the industry leader in your research, and the team was lovely in guiding you through the process, so much so that you even invited them to your grand opening.
"Ah, you have." Nanami grinned, gently tilting your chin upward and closing your gaping mouth. "Therefore, my darling, don't feel guilty about me covering the expenses. I'm quite secure in my position to support both of us for centuries."
All you could manage was a disbelieving chuckle as you rested your forehead against his chest. Taking it as an invitation, he embraced you, crowning you with kisses.Â
Lifting your head, you said, "There's something I want to get for you."
"What is it?"
Hand-in-hand, you pulled him back toward the bustling district, the sound of his deep laughter echoing in the air. Your own laughter naturally joined in.
As you strolled past a vendor selling accessories, your attention was drawn to an item you had briefly noticed earlier in your walk. Although you planned to purchase it the following day and surprise him in the afternoon, tonight felt like the perfect moment.
Politely approaching the elderly vendor, you asked, "Could I please try those on?" He handed you a pair of round sunglasses with a green tint to the lenses. Standing on your toes, you carefully placed the glasses on Nanami's nose, adjusting them to sit perfectly on the bridge. The sides of the spectacles featured a stylish steampunk design that complemented his narrow, sharp features. "Handsome.â
"I'll take it.â Nanami reached for his wallet. However, you were one step ahead, swiftly bringing out the spare change you had set aside in your coat pocket. You had already calculated the price, ready to outsmart him in this little game of charity.
âY/N.âÂ
âThank you,â you said to the shop vendor, ignoring Nanamiâs stare.Â
âY/N.âÂ
âYes, darling?" You looped around his arm and began your stroll down the sidewalk. âOh, come on. Let me be selfish and treat you once in a while.â You cut off his protests with a kiss.Â
He surrendered instantly.Â
Over the next four weeks, you didnât realize how quickly youâd become comfortable with Nanami. Like clockwork, he would arrive at your bakery, patiently occupying a table until your duties with customers or decorating displays finished. Now resembling a vibrant florist shop, the bakery owed its transformation to Nanami's thoughtful gesturesâbouquets of flowers in every shade of yellow, orange, and white became an amusing routine. As you arranged them in vases, you would burst into fits of giggles like a maniac.Â
You and him were like a Venn diagram, overlapping in unexpected places. He enjoyed non-fiction, classics, and history books; you immersed yourself in the world of romance and mystery novels. TV nights were a compromise between his love for documentaries and your penchant for anything sappy on Netflix, occasionally spicing things up with a true-crime documentary. His fascination with astronomy met your fixation with astrology, and surprisingly, he didn't scoff when you read the lines on his palms. Instead, he appreciated it just as much as you cherished his nightly photos of the moon and his ability to name the stars above.
At least, you were both Team Cats.
Nanami introduced you to his friends, including his quirky assistant Gojo, who had a habit of shamelessly flirting with you, seemingly just to get under Nanami's skin. However, your boyfriend was secure enough not to let it bother him. Yet, a trace of possessiveness would emerge during sexâwhen the two of you were entwined in bed, bodies bared and bathed in the aftermath of shared sweat.
Exiting the restaurant after a delightful dinner date, Nanami turned to you and suggested, "I'd like to invite you to my home tonight."
Finally, you thought, resisting the urge to dip your toes into the topic of visiting his home, especially considering he had been a frequent guest at yours.
The fact that he lived nearby had always puzzled you; he mentioned it casually yet never extended an invitation for a simple coffee or a chat on his welcome mat. Weekends saw him working from your living room, staying overnight, but on weekdays, he'd only spend a brief hour or two with you before heading home, a practice that seemed counterintuitive given his closeness. Despite the confusion, you hesitated to jeopardize your relationship by fishing too deeply.
So far, Nanami hadn't given you any reason to doubt him.
"Are you sure?" you asked cautiously.
"Absolutely, darling.â Nanami took your hand and planted a small kiss on the back of it. "I apologize for the delay. I've been having it . . ." He casually flicked up his sunglasses that had slipped. ". . . renovated."
âOh, I see. Well, in that case, Iâd love to!âÂ
Nanami nodded and leaned down to kiss your cheek. âThank you for being so patient. I know it was eating you alive. You're not exactly the master of hiding your emotions.â He gave you a small smile and kissed your cheek again.Â
You responded with a smile that crinkled your nose. "Just a bit anxious, that's all."
"Understandable.â He guided you toward his neighbourhood, exchanging a warm smile as you nestled against his arm. Observing the goosebumps on your skin and the faint shivers, he realized you had forgotten your cardigan. Without hesitation, he removed his blazer and draped it around your shoulders, helping you slip your arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up.
You took a deep breath, inhaling the pleasant scent from the collars. "You always smell so good."
Nanami bent down, kissing the side of your neck right above your racing pulse. "As do you," he murmured against your skin. "Always."
âGosh, you're so flirty,â you whispered, wrapping your arms around his midsection and burying your face in his chest.
âCome on now.âÂ
You walked for another ten minutes, taking a five-minute pit stop to pet a stray cat before stopping in front of a towering residence building. It was one of those extravagant ones boasting a fountain in the lobby and a vigilant security guard who greeted Nanami with a two-finger salute.
Hand on your back, Nanami guided you toward the elevator with mirrors on all sides.
He exuded an air of sophistication in his neatly rolled-up black dress shirt, complemented by beige pants. His pale, blond hair was slicked back, a Rolex clasped his wrist, and veins corded his well-defined forearms. The sunglasses you had given him rested atop his head.Â
As Nanami caught your eyes on the reflective surfaces, a sudden blush warmed your cheeks. âWhat is it?âÂ
âNothing,â you whispered, fingers idly playing with the golden butterfly bracelet he had given you on the night he asked you to be his girlfriend. âI was just . . . God, youâre so beautiful. Sometimes, I think Iâm dreaming of you. And I donât want to wake up from it.âÂ
Nanami released his grip on your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist. He tilted your chin upward and planted a lecherous kiss on your lips. As you stumbled backward, your back met the cool surface of a mirror, and you clung to his biceps. He continued kissing your jaw and nibbling at your neck.
âKenâWait, thereâs a camera!âÂ
âI own the building.âÂ
Without allowing you to react, he kissed you fervently, his hands framing your face and his knee pressing between your legs. Your hips ground against the muscled surface, creating a heated friction that drew a moan from him.
The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival, but Nanami was undeterred. He refused to break the kiss. Lifting you effortlessly, he cradled you with a single forearm beneath your backside and your arms encircling his neck. Laughter echoed as you entered directly into the main corridor of his penthouse.
âYour front door is an elevator?â You marveled with an open jaw.Â
âYes, it seems so.â
Oh, how you loved his monotonous replies.Â
Nanami gently placed you onto the expansive white surface of his couch, smoothly moving over your body to continue.Â
âI knew you were a clean freak,â you said between his kisses, âbut your penthouse looks like it was bought this morning.âÂ
âTwo weeks ago.â He kisses down your neck, sideways toward your left shoulder. âThatâs why I waited to invite you. Gojo was having the place decorated. I've installed a library for you, too. We can go book-shopping this weekend.âÂ
"Wait, what?" You pushed him back by his chest, incredulous. "Hold on, hold on, hold on. You mean to tell me you moved in just two weeks ago?"
"Yes," he answered, tilting his head slightly perplexedly. "When you asked about my residence, I panicked and couldn't come up with a proper answer, fearing you might decline my invitation for a walk. So, I bought this building from the previous owner on the spot. There are also commercial benefits. Quite a strategic move, if you ask me." With that, Nanami resumed his attention, focusing on kissing your collarbones and skillfully lowering your dress, exposing your chest to him.
But you were still stuck on the subject like a pesky fruit fly. âBut you donât live here?âÂ
âI donât.â His mouth brushed over the mound of your left breast. âI live in Shibuya.âÂ
âShibuya? Kento, thatâs an hour and a half away!"
"Hmm." He glanced up, mouth sucking at your nipple.
"You've been faithfully coming to my city every single day, all the way from Shibuya, for a whole year? You've been burning all that gas just to be with me?"
He broke away to say, "Gojo drives me occasionally," and switched to your right breast.
"Nanami Kento, are you out of your mind?"
Finally, he released you and sighed. "I fail to see the issue here." He appeared so innocent, with his moist lips, tousled hair, and a crumpled dress shirt.Â
You hurriedly sat up, readjusting your dress, which seemed to displease him. "I'm at a loss for words." Your gaze caught the weariness etched on his face, the bags under his eyes, the slow, heavy blinks signaling his desperate need for sleep. "You haven't actually been living here, have you?"
Upon hearing that, Nanami let out a weary sigh. "I do it when I'm too drained to make the drive back on weekdays."
As the details of his schedule fell into place, you flinched inwardly. He would rise at the crack of dawn, dedicate endless hours to handling clients at the office, and then endure a lengthy drive to your city, only to spend his evenings with you before leaving around midnight to return to Shibuya. The only time he would stay overnight at your place was on Saturdays, and he would depart early on Sundays for work. And all this time, you had believed he had an office in your city.
Oh, God.Â
You loved him.Â
You loved him so much.
Tears welled up in your eyes at the realization of just how much he loved you. The man had gone so far as to purchase an entire building in your city just to be closer to you. He showered you with affection at every opportunity, devoted his alone time to you with undivided attention and mind-blowing orgasms, and his bank transactions were probably dedicated to you.Â
âI donât deserve your kindness,â you whispered.Â
âNeither did I the night when we met.â Nanamiâs words always had a comforting effect on you. He gently pulled you onto his lap, and you curled up like a fetus, planting a kiss on his cheekbone. âIâve loved you for a very long time, Y/N. I love . . . God, I love you so much. I didn't realize I was capable of feeling this much love for another human until I met you. It was all locked up inside me, and you held the key all along, darling." Leaning forward, he smoothly swept his blazer and delved into the pocket, revealing a small yellow box. With trembling hands, you accepted it and opened it to find a petite, golden key inside. âOur front door is an elevator.âÂ
Your breath hitched. âWhat?âÂ
âMove in with me.âÂ
âKentoââ
âI know. I know it's quite early to discuss this, and I want to give you the space and time to consider it. As you mentioned, your lease ends next month, and I'll officially be transitioning to remote work with a few business trips every other week. It would mean a lot to me if you decided to join me on those trips." He gently placed the key in your hand, kissing your fist. "I'm scheduled to travel to Malaysia next month."
Overpowered with emotion, you choked out a sob and immediately lunged at him with a hug, causing both of you to stumble backward as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He loved you. He wanted you to move in with him. He wanted to travel with you, starting with Malaysia. Suddenly, the tips he left in your jar took on a deeper significance, backing the idea that you weren't meant to journey alone, why you werenât meant to go with that swindling bastard. As Nanami's gestures of kindness and service became increasingly evident, your tears welled up, choking him in a tight embrace that eventually had him laughing.
Last November, Nanami Kento had stepped into your small bakery, raindrops clinging to him, unknowingly marking his permanent presence in your life.
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ᄫᥠ. # Û« , âžș STREETS !
summary :: over 20 years of kenjiâs life has been spent preserving the surviving scraps of innocence from his childhood. since then, he has been desperately searching for anything to fill the rotten void in his chest. when a news reporter gives him everything he could ever ask for by merely existing, kenji fears the man he may become without them near.
word count :: 8.3k
content warnings :: mdni! yandere!kenji, obsessive!kenji, g/n reader, blood/violence, alcohol, stalking, drugging, kidnapping, nausea/sickness, mentions of sex, use of âdaddyâ honorific (but nothing sexually explicit occurs).
kenji sato's yandere traits are . . .
nurturing, heroic, & smothering
ââââ Over the course of his childhood, Kenji possessed the same desires every child had. The same wishes heâd whisper to planes he mistook for shooting stars.
He remembers climbing the blunt limbs of the oak tree in his backyard, pretending to be a hawk and searching the grass for any delicious rodents to sink his claws into. He can still feel the dirt under his fingernails when heâd get lost in the woods, pretending to be a tiger and barring his teeth to any predators after his kin. His only worries would consist of his next meal and where he'll settle in for the night, instead of the loneliness that resided back home.
However, as all stories go, Kenji grew up. As the years passed, though, the more constricting his grip became on this childhood dream. For every candle Kenji blew out, he only wished to be one with the great outdoors and rid himself of the expectations shoved upon him. As any child innocently wanted.
Now in adulthood, every candlelight snuffed out was a silent plea for peace. And so desperately, he is trying to protect the bird nest he intricately crafted. Woven with strands of his young, raven-black hair, chunks of sidewalk chalk, tufts of fur of his favorite stuffed animals â every forgotten, sacred piece of his childhood that still remains unscathed.
Year after year, the relentless abuse of the world and his responsibilities reign down on him, prying their violent, eager fingers into his beloved bird nest. Today, Kenji holds whatever scraps still remain close to his chest, nestling them beneath a canopy of creativity and everlasting hope. Protecting whatever bits of innocence and childlike luster that survive the weight of the world.
When he pictured his fatherâs role of Ultraman as a child, he imagined perseverance and bravery. Now with that title bequeathed to him, Kenji is anything but. He is clumsy, reckless, and negligent. The very last thing he wishes to do now is follow his fatherâs footsteps, but alas, he has been given no choice.
The Neronga waltzes through the city streets, exuding chaos with every step it strides. Tossing around chunks of buildings and fistfuls of debris. And begrudgingly, Kenji trails after it like a parent trying to tame their exuberant child.Â
A booming roar echoes from the beast's throat, angry bolts of electricity sparking from its horn. One swift punch to its jaw and the creature is out cold, leaving miles of destruction and disorder in its demise. With the threat neutralized, now comes the clean-up. He plucks citizens like they are tiny dolls and drops them to safety, who all thank him profusely for his aid. All except one.
Several bystanders crowd over a pile of rubble, waving their hands in an attempt at garnering the attention of Ultraman.Â
âYeah, yeah. Iâm coming, Iâm comingâŠâ Kenji mutters, stepping over passing cars as though theyâre scatterings of colorful legos.Â
Piece by piece, he brushes past the lumps of bricks and metal. Disinterred from beneath the rubble is you. Hauntingly beautiful in your unconscious state.Â
âOhâŠâ He exhales breathlessly, chest rising and falling with rapid pants.Â
And there it is.Â
That canopy of creativity enveloping him; that bird nest suddenly overflowing with rebirth and life. Everything bursts in colors so prismatic, Kenji finds himself at an impossible balance between feeling weakly heavy and ecstatically light. Never has his soul been so completely satiated before, even in the brightest days of his childhood.
Love, thatâs what this must be! Love, warmth, happiness â every inkling of light this world has to offer! How could he ever feel dejected again with this angel now in his-?Â
âYour heart rate is spiking.â That familiar, robotic voice interrupts. âYou know what happens when Ultraman gets stressed.âÂ
Like clockwork, his color timer blares in distressful hues of light blue and sharp red. Though, how could Kenji possibly pay attention to such trivial matters when heâs holding you in his hands? How could he pay attention to anything else?Â
Unfortunately for his sake, reality tears him away from his entranced state by brute forcd. A blinding flash of white permeates the street and in a blink, Kenji has returned to his normal self. He is back to being the notorious baseball player, worldwide heartthrob, and, most notably, smaller than his heroic alter ego.
When he shifts his gaze up, he finds you descending from the grasp he once held you in. Just like the fearless prince in every child's imagination, he scurries to catch you before you meet the unforgiving ground.
When his bare hands meet your skin, a gasp is yanked from his chest. His heart lurches, obtaining speeds he did not deem possible. Even sprinting from base to base did not garner this physical reaction out of him. You just feel so good against him, so perfect. Like the missing puzzle piece heâs been tearing apart the house looking for, now within its respected place. Bound to be cemented there forever â that sounds good to Kenji.Â
âKen, they can see you!â Minaâs frantic voice interrupts once again.Â
When he pulls his vision from you, he finds a collage of people begin to surround the adjacent area. Their mere gaze threatens to jeopardize his identity once and forevermore.
âIâm sorry, âm so sorry, baby.â Kenji whispers into your ear.
Pressing a hard kiss to your cheekbone and relishing at the sensation of your skin beneath his lips, he reluctantly guides your limp body atop of the rubble. A few final caresses to your warm flesh and he is scurrying off into the night, completely inconsolable with these brand new emotions. New emotions he fears terribly, but has now clasped all coherent function in his body.
A single week had passed since the city's last Kaiju attack. These several days have proven to be nothing short of torturous for Kenji.
He has been rendered miserable after latching onto the light heâs been chasing for years, only to have it torn from his hands like candy from a baby. All because heâs been forced into a gig he never signed up for. Kenji has lost the love of his life and nothing can reprimand the grief it has left behind.Â
Through extensive, but fruitless effort, he has assigned Mina the task of dissecting all of Japan in search of you. With only a description of your face, coated with dirt and blood, there is very little the efficient robot can do. And once again, his desires are left to collect dust in the hollow corners of his soul.
Kenji now resides in his âman-caveâ, as he so confidently calls it. âHealthy body, healthy mind.â Mina teases, displaying the assortment of coconut water stacked in the fridge. With a sigh of defeat, he takes a resentful sip and cringes at the horrid taste. His efforts to stuff his face with junk food like some heartbroken blonde in a chick-flick were rejected by Mina, as she is always pushing him to pursue greater health. Waving his white flag, he asks for Mina to just turn the TV on, searching for anything to mend the pain poisoning his heart.
âKen. I wonder if you might consider taking a break.â Mina confesses.Â
He stares at the robot, searching her metal face for reasoning.
âFrom TV?âÂ
âFrom finding that citizen.â
His face scrunches in disdain.Â
Quit you? Is she serious? How could he ever do that? Could he even survive such a predicament?Â
âGive up the one thing that puts a smile on my face?â Kenji questions. âSorry. No. TV, please.â
Some sincere praise from saved citizens will surely fill the hole in his chest, he assumes. Help him in his efforts to protect that bird nest he cradles close.Â
The TV flickers to life and presents Channel 7 News, the place in which Kenji is featured most on. Seeing his most recent work with a bold âWOUNDED NERONGA AFTER ULTRAMAN EXITâ beneath the scene granted no surprise to him.Â
What does stun him into a defying silence is when the screen shifts and your face fills up the expanse. Bandage on your scalp and microphone in your hand, you inform viewers at home of the recent neutralized threat and your new status here on the channel.
âWell, this has been quite the warm welcome! Iâve just arrived here in Japan and Iâve already been greeted by the Neronga, evident in this bandage on my nogginâ.âÂ
The coconut water in his mouth spews out like a sprinkler when Kenji spits out the beverage. He chucks the open can across the room, ignoring the stain it will inevitably leave on his lavish carpets.
âThatâs them! Thatâs them, thatâs them, thatâs them!â He exclaims to Mina.Â
Shuffling off the couch, he crawls over to the television as though his legs had completely given out beneath him. His hand caresses the surface where your cheek is.Â
âSources tell us you were rescued by Ultraman himself!â A news anchor speaks.Â
âYes, that is true. Unfortunately, I was a bit too woozy to thank him properly, but he did save my life. It is heroic acts like Ultraman that help keep this city alive.âÂ
Unbeknownst to you, your words made a certain baseball player melt into putty. Hearing your praises, even when it is probably written on a script behind the camera, is nothing short of heavenly.Â
The anchors, third-wheeling between two soulmates, continue to blabber about other fresh events taking place in Japan. Pressing languid kisses to the fuzzy static, all Kenji can listen to, all he can focus on, is you. Every twitch of your brow, every curve of your skin, every stretch in your smile â it all has him mesmerized. Like a siren lulling a fisher into the sea, where he would dive straight into oblivion had it been you in the deep waves.
âThis was Y/N L/N with Channel 7 News.âÂ
Your name sits like honey on his tongue. Sickeningly sweet and absorbing of every word.Â
âY/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.â He repeats your name like a magic spell, almost as if youâd manifest into existence had he whispered it enough.
âSigning off.âÂ
The screen cuts and you vanish from the screen, overtaken by irritating advertisements. As though you were physically there with him, Kenji reaches for you. Desperate to bring you, his Y/N, back into his unwavering embrace.
Now, if there is anything renowned about Ken Sato, it is his charm, which also serves as his most powerful superpower. So, with enough flexes in the mirror to give himself a good ego boost, his âput a ring on Y/Nâs fingerâ plan has now ensued in full effect.Â
The foundation of this plan resides in who you are, what intricacies and threadings course through such a marvelous creature. He demands Mina, stronger than he ever has before, to learn every little detail there is to know about you. There cannot be a stone left unturned. Kenji needs to know everything.Â
And every fragment of information she delivers to him binds his presumption furthermore: you two were made for each other. Youâre like a page torn straight from an ancient fairytale. Crafted by God himself to hold his hand. Heâs sunk his fingers into your background, your dreams, your hobbies, and he has nestled them all into his bird nest, entwined with the elements of himself. Bound to remain at one anotherâs side for eternity.
To enlighten you on these matters, however, Kenji has to find clarity through the whirlwind of emotions overpowering his senses. Then, he is positive heâll be granted the ability to finally speak to you. However, the thought alone is enough to send a sun-hot shiver down his spine. Heâll need some thorough caresses to his ego before he can garner the confidence to merely stand in the same room as you.
It certainly does not help when everyday is spent battling the intense waves of euphoria, obsession, and of course, the suffocating guilt.
He left you behind. He abandoned the one thing that matters most to him and nothing can atone for this mistake. All because of Ultraman being most imperative, which Kenji had been force-fed to believe. Never again will he choose his occupation over you. Or anything, for that matter. You outweigh everything in terms of vital importance.Â
He begins these efforts with baby-steps. To start, he assigns Mina to leave expensive gifts upon your bed. Bouquets of flowers, lush clothing, rich chocolates, luxurious jewelry, action figures and plushies galore! All you have to do is look at something in the store for more than a picosecond and itâs wrapped in a bow for you the following day. You also cannot forget the amount of times youâve arrived home to find your favorite meals freshly made on the kitchen table.
In your overworked, lethargic brain, you assume everything is left by your sweet, elderly landlord who misses her grandkids and needs a fresh face to spoil rotten. You just choose to ignore how the gifts are impossibly far out of her budget.
Miles away from you, Kenji is tearing himself apart as he assumes your lack of recognition to be rejection. He knew he shouldâve purchased those shoes in a different color! What was he thinking buying you roses instead of carnations, God, how clichĂ© can he be!?Â
He shouldâve known you wouldnât lend him your heart in return for his riches. You are not that foolish or shallow; youâre far more meticulous than the greedy pigs heâs so accustomed to feeding.Â
Kenji will not claim defeat yet, though. He is never one to waver so easily, especially when it is you that is the golden prize. If he cannot flaunt his riches, why not himself? The richest item of all? And if his money cannot slither himself into your heart, he is positive it can push him in the intended direction.Â
Heâll leave lumps of cash in the hands of massive corporations, all to cast his face wherever it can reach. On billboards, on buildings, on blimps â whatever place you may possibly be. Inevitably, you will have no choice but to see his gorgeous face and fall head over heels with him. The same way you so easily made him fall for you.Â
Unfortunately, though, there are not enough cans of coconut water or buckets of chicken drumsticks in the world to bring you to his doorstep, there to fall into his arms and promise forever at his side. Kenji has failed in claiming your heart as his, once again, but another failure is not nearly enough to get him to welcome defeat. Not when it is you he is promised, never when it is you.
From here, heâll pursue grander efforts. Youâll be occupied in the studio, skimming through your lines while makeup artists poke and prod at you. A squeal of excitement will permeate through the expanse, shouting out for a man by the name of Ken Sato.
Loud rumbles echo through the city streets as Kenji revs the engine to his motorcycle, complemented by his famous hair-flip and heart-throbbing wink. And feverishly, he scrutinizes every face behind the window, desperate to see those gorgeous features smile and melt at the sight of him. Then, he can spring straight into your studio, gather you in his arms, and race off into the sunset with you. Just like the fairytale dream you deserve.Â
But alas, the universe refuses to give him such a privilege. Youâre too engrossed with the tasks at hand, not some money-obsessed athlete who adorns the walls of teenage girls across Japan.Â
If he could hear your assumptions, heâd assure you are sorely mistaken. Kenji doesnât want the accolades, the riches, the fame. He just wants you. The one who showed him what it truly meant to be wild; the one who showed him what it truly meant to be free. So desperately, he wants you to know this, as well. To feel it with every beat your heart passes, to feel it imprinted in your skin with every kiss and caress he leaves. He could lose everything, just not you. God, not you.Â
The man is speeding off with the pieces of his shattered heart before you can even process what had even occurred.
Kenji, once again, is met with another revelation. If it is not his name that can bring you into his embrace, then maybe it is his second self, the one you so wholeheartedly praise for his heroic acts.
Dressed in these ridiculous garbs, Ultraman leads danger towards your direction to âsaveâ your life, all other innocent bystanders be damned. These efforts do not ever bridge on being dangerous. Merely a quick scare or two. And it definitely pays off, oh, does it pay off. Watching the fear in your eyes ease into relief at the sight of him never fails to get him numb with rapture.
âFear not, citizen! Kenj- I mean, Ultraman will save you!âÂ
The last occasion he ever abused his role consisted of an orchestrated car accident. Nearly caught in the crossfire, you ever-so-gracefully dove away from the scene and skidded your knee in the process. A thundering âNO! BABY!â rings through the air. So absorbed in adrenaline, you do not even process the volume of the sound.Â
What does grasp your attention is Ultraman taking you into his hand and lifting you far, far away from the ground. You ensnare yourself around his finger in response, clinging to him like a lifeline. Kenji melts from the action, as well as the underlying implications. You, relying on him, your silver-armored prince, for protection â that is everything he could ever wish for sat right in the palm of his hands.Â
âShh⊠Itâs okay. Youâre gonna be okay⊠Daddyâs hereâŠâÂ
The words, shaky as they are, fall from his mouth like water through a cracked dam. Itâs all just so easy, assuring you of his protection and comfort. The only way of preventing him from caring for you is to end his life. And Kenji has a lot of fight in him before heâll allow himself to be separated from you.
You remain in his hands until an ambulance arrives. For the umpteenth time, he is forced to let go of you again. He cannot hide the perceptible agony it brings him to watch you rely on somebody else for aid.Â
One day, it will be him, he assures himself. One day.
In the meantime, your rejection continues to take a heavy toll on him. Kenji is now famished without you, emaciated and starved to the bone. In some feeble attempt at satiating this hunger, heâll try to find these fragments of you in others. He will drink himself ill then bring a blurry face to bed, all to shake the memory of you out of his head. These efforts, once more, only result in failure.
This time around, a harrowing guilt rots in his chest. There is no one else like you, he shouldâve seen it clear as day. Kenji was a fool to ever think there could be. Now, he has cheated on the one who matters most to him. And there is nothing to placate the anguish heâs tormented by.
This perceptible ruination does not go unnoticed by journalists, either, who do not waste the opportunity of an eye-grabbing headline. Articles about him flood the web, detailing his miserable failures out on the field. Crawling to base seconds too late, sprinting directly into walls, and receiving more strikes than anyone can count â Kenji and the famous Sato name are falling apart by the seams.
He examines the glistening trophies and signed baseball cards in another attempt at protecting his ego and its butchered remains. None of it is enough, though. None of this success is notable without you at his side.
In a fit of rage, he throws his Giants helmet against the basement floors, landing with a harsh thud.
âThey reject me? Ken Sato!? Best baseball player of all time!? The one and only Ultraman!?âÂ
His poor helmet is victim to his abuse, once more, as he leans all his might into a forceful kick.Â
âNobody can resist Ken Sato!âÂ
Another attempt at thrashing around in anger results in his knees buckling beneath him, sending his body to the cold ground. That was the final failure Kenji needed to break down into a sobbing fit. Head buried in his palms, he begs, pleads, for mercy.Â
âI⊠Iâm doing my best, okay? God!â
His body curls into itself, like pathetic prey trying to protect itself.
âI buy you everything you want, I save your life again and again, I-âÂ
Kenji cuts his tangent short by choking on a gagged cry. His fist clenches over his heart, overwhelmed from the sheer pain the organ is enduring. His chest stutters and twitches from the force of his blubbering. Globs of snot and spit gush across down his face, some clumps managing to pervade across his tongue.
âKen? Are you crying?â A monotone voice speaks.Â
âNo! Iâm⊠Not crying!âÂ
His coughing whimpers and wet face reveal the truth. Weakness is something he was taught to be ashamed of, after all. What kind of man would he be if he let himself crumble over such petty matters? Would you ever fall for him after witnessing such a dramatic sight?
âWant me to load up Y/N? That might make you feel better.âÂ
A few snivels through the silence and Kenji answers her. âYeah⊠Yeah, I-Iâd really like thatâŠâ
Maybe this is what he needs, just a few hits of his favorite drug to keep him in stable condition. Then, heâll utilize the newfound strength to revive his honor, finally earning your affection in the end.
Pixels unfold in varying colors across the ground, spreading across the walls and ceiling like a reaching wave. The scene overtaking the basement now displays a romantic scene. Cherry blossom trees dance with the warm wind, petals drifting through the Spring air. A grand waterfall descends from a moss-covered mountain and leads to a river, where fish swim along with the stream. As he stands to his feet, Kenji finds himself at an arched bridge stretching over the river as the gentle melodies of nature sing around him.
When his gaze drifts around, he feels his heart practically plummet into the pit of his stomach when he sees you. Leaning over the wicker barrier and tossing out handfuls of kibble for the hungry fish.
Turning over your shoulder, you look up at Kenji with those glittering eyes, causing his breath to get caught in his throat. To make matters even worse for Kenjiâs weak self, your face then breaks out into a candy-sweet smile. You are so innocently oblivious to how youâve reduced his heart rate to an old engine, stuttering miserably. That smile could make even the devil repent, heâs sure of it. With luminosity like that, the greatest evils would have no choice but to succumb to their contrition.
Dusting your hands off, you frolic over to where Kenji stands. A lighthearted giggle escapes past your lips in the process, nearly bringing him to tears from how precious the sight is. Your hand slips into his and he might as well have crossed the pearly gates of heaven. Fuck, why hasnât he made Mina do this before?
âCome on! Come feed the fishies with me!â You cheer in that captivating tone. That adoring voice could ask so sweetly for death and heâd deliver you buckets of blood. Just keep talking to him like that.
The impact you have on him is so immense, in fact, Kenji falls to his knees. The throbbing ache that his fall courses through his body might as well have been background noise, not when his senses are overwhelmed with how blissful your presence is.
His arms enclose around your legs, burying his face into your fuzzy sweater. With an amused hum, you sink your hands into his dark locks. The gesture makes him dizzy with elation. Spinning around the merry-go-round of devastating jubilation.
âTell me you love me.â Kenji whines, his sensitive voice muffled against your stomach.Â
With another giggle that squishes his gooey heart, you respond.
âI love you, Ken.âÂ
⊠Ken?Â
No! No, you wouldnât call him that!Â
Youâd call him Kenji, or better yet, youâd conjure up some adorable nickname in that witty head of yours. Anything but Ken; anything but what everyone else sees him as.Â
And just like that, the fantastical facade shatters and reveals what really lies beneath. None of this is real. As much as he wishes it would be, as much as heâd throw away everything for you to be beside him in this moment, all of this is merely a figment of his imagination.
âNo! Youâre not real! Y/N- They would never-!â
The tears return and leave his body through broken wails. Once again, he has been forged into a mess of cracked hiccups and ground-shattering sobs.
His clenched fist meets the solid ground, piercing pain invading his entire arm from the impact. The punch was thrown far from where you stand. Even as a hologram, Kenji cannot bear to hurt you. He couldnât wish violence upon you even if he wanted to.Â
The dreamscape stood before him crumbles as quickly as it was formed. Darkness spreads once again and the romantic scene of cherry blossoms and fish kibble fades away. A physical manifestation of what he has become without you present.
Chasing after a sliver of your attention has now thrust Kenji into a staggering state of despair. His sob playlist shakes his house with its ear-splitting volumes, pushing more tears down his face while he stuffs his mouth with donuts.Â
The weight of the pain pushes him toward drastic measures, as he is now a hollow shell of who he used to be. Measures he assured himself he would never come to, but has inevitably crashed landed in.
If you do not fall for his riches, his charm, his fame, then Kenji will just have to⊠âpersuadeâ you towards that goal.
Cameras flash and flicker in his face as he charms his way through another press conference of millions. Only this time, he has ground-breaking news to share.Â
âFans have seen you blow supposed kisses to someone outside the venue. Is there a special someone in your life?âÂ
Directly across the field is your studio, but he will not tell others this fact. It is his duty to protect you, after all. But, scattering a few breadcrumbs wonât hurt anyone.
âYes. Yes there is.â
The room erupts in hushed gasps and the rushed scribbling of pens. Another wave of questions tumbles toward Kenjiâs way.
âThey mean everything to me. I owe all my success to Y/- I mean, my baby.âÂ
A knowing smirk grows on his face. The Sherlockâs of the internet will surely connect the dots. Netizens will also fawn over how misty-eyed he became speaking of you, while others will rage in jealousy over their dream man falling for someone else. No matter what occurs, he will protect you during your sudden shift to fame. You have his word on that.
Days later, Kenji receives an email. And he almost considers admitting himself into a hospital for the near heart attack he receives upon reading it.Â
Signed by none other than Y/N L/N, you ask him to meet with you in order to âclear the airâ and âsort out this dramaâ.Â
Several times, he scans the username to find some sort of fault, something that shows him it is just the works of an envious hater. However, his suspicions are never confirmed. The message is purely and undoubtedly you, no online troll or basement hologram in sight!
Without another second to waste, he responds to your email with a place and time, that being two hours from now. Kenji intends on fulfilling his role of the dashing boyfriend and to drive you there himself, flaunting his sumptuous motorcycle in the process. Mina, however, has since been programmed to detect every potential danger in your path, even something as minor as a crack in the pavement. When she displayed the graphic results of recent biking accidents, his heart lurched in his chest.
For now, he will simply have to meet you at the luxuriant restaurant he booked the best table for. In the future, he will convert to safer forms of transportation and your foot will never touch a pedal again. Not with your prince charming around.
Arriving an hour early, Kenji bursts through the bathroom doors and wipes the beads of sweat seeping down his face. All the makeup and detail he put into his appearance, all melted to a mess because of the anxiety you pump through his body.Â
It is almost comical. He, Ken Sato, is nervous? Heâs done the classic dinner-date over a zillion times, delivering his suggestive pick-up lines and swift winks. Staring at his exasperated face in the mirror, he is at a loss of where to go from here. What will he even say? What famous lines can he use? How can he give you his black card and a copy of his house key without you running away?Â
Kenji finally sits down at the reserved table, located on a far balcony and looking over the grand city. His wristwatch blares red and presents the stack of missed calls from his dad, of which he willfully ignores. He went twenty years without his father and survived. Meanwhile, he went one week without you and thought he was on the cusp of death. He cannot bring himself to care about anything else. Not when heâs finally got a hook on you.
A waiter then asks him if he was feeling alright, concerned over the sight of his pale skin, shivering body, and twiddling thumbs. Kenji assures the man he is alright as he restlessly taps his foot, stalking the door ahead for the face he loves most to saunter through. The building could just about crumble to ash and heâd still sit here, waiting for your arrival.
And just like a movie, you pass the threshold and rob all the air from his lungs.Â
You merely walk his way, but to him, you resembled a fawn frolicking through a green meadow, an angel wandering across roads of fluffy clouds. Those sporadic nerves die at the sight of you, rendering him to a melted pile of twitterpated nonsense. You tread closer and closer and closer and Kenji does not know how much more his body can handle before you completely dissolve him into a puddle.
âYou have five minutes.âÂ
Your voice perfuses into his ears like birdsong, real and raw this time. That noise greeting him every morning is the only wish heâd ask from a magic genie.Â
âWh-Wh-?â He stutters like a lovesick loser, mentally slapping himself across the head for such a pathetic introduction.
âI said you have five minutes to explain yourself. Then, I will le-âÂ
âI love you.â
Surprise eases out your scrunched expression. Youâve never met this man before. Yet here he is, spewing out this gibberish. All of this has to be some form of joke, you assume. Where those irritating Youtube pranksters will sprint out from their hiding spots and shove their cameras in your face, cackling like hysterical hyenas.
âI am in love with you.âÂ
Maybe this is just his way of leading partners into bed with him. A powerful effort to add another name to his lengthy body count. And for whatever reason, he plans to jot down your name on that list.
âAnd you are worth more to me than anything.âÂ
You scrutinize his face for some inkling of rationality, something to explain what the fuck he means by that. Your efforts prove to be futile, as those teary, doe-eyes peer into your soul with nothing but sheer, unadulterated devotion. As though you were both fresh newlyweds enjoying the luxury of your honeymoon, complemented by the glimmer of your new wedding rings.
âOkay.â You swallow dryly, unease bleeding through your body. âYou get another five minutes to explain yourself. On one condition.â
Kenji perks up at your proposition as though you had offered your hand in marriage.Â
âYes! Yes, whatever you want!âÂ
The man in question ponders over what riches you could ask him for and how elated heâd be to give you them. Taking you on shopping sprees and serving as your adoring husband, paying every penny and carrying your bags for you while you peruse to your liking. Just say the word, maybe flutter those pretty lashes, and heâll personally deliver the very planet into your hands.
âI want you to leave me be.âÂ
If it werenât for the fact this man was a complete stranger, youâd feel a sting of guilt over the perceptible emotion that washes over his face. Kenji anticipated the demand of clothes, foods, travel tickets, of which he would gleefully fulfill. Not this. Anything but this.Â
âAlright, f-for how long? 10 minutes? 20?âÂ
âForever.âÂ
You might as well have surged your fist into his chest cavity and torn his heart out, stomping out the ba-bump beneath the force of your boots. You might as well have climbed the tree behind his childhood home and ambushed his bird nest, tearing apart the array of twigs and squishing the healthy eggs. You might as well have just killed him right then and there, as nothing could pain him more than such a fate. Forever without the one he loves most is a life you couldnât pay him to suffer through.
His bottom lip begins to tremble, stomach gurgling with nauseated shock. A few gags masked by coughs go unnoticed by you, as you couldâve sworn you saw a bright flash of white in the distance. Did someone⊠Take a picture?Â
â... Whatâs wrong, baby? What are you looking at, huh?âÂ
Shifting your gaze back to Kenji, you find his features sheen with sweat and sickly-green from the queasiness youâve forced upon him. What you especially notice is the accent of smugness beneath it all, etched into the smirk stretched across his lips.
Hushed whispers in the distance accelerate in volume, until the entire restaurant erupts in flashing lights.
Paparazzi!? What the fuck are they doing here!?Â
Kenji leans back into the chair and slings an arm around the back post, seemingly posing for the photographers invading your conversation.
âOh, no! Weâve been caught! The horror! Whatever will we do now that our secret is outâŠ?â
If it werenât for the sake of your career, you wouldâve socked that smile clean off his face. Maybe even knock out a few teeth while youâre at it.
Critics have now officially cleared the name of Ken Sato due to his recent spike in excellent performance. Sports commentators even toss around jokes of how Satoâs new partner has knocked some sense into him.
Another game of hundreds and the cologne of arrogance around Kenji could suffocate the entire arena. A recent report detailed by you is casted on the billboard outside your studio. He blows yet another kiss your way as he jogs onto the field, ignoring the shouting fans who seethe with envy. He has made it official across the nation that his heart is sewn into your hands. And not even God could level the happiness coursing through his body.Â
That is, until an uninvited visitor opens his mouth. The Swallows catcher begins to taunt him about his lover on the big screen, unaware of the lethal consequences it would harbor.
âYou let the team hit, Sato? Shit, I might talk to coach about a transfer so I can get a piece of th-âÂ
The baseball bat in Kenjiâs hands collides with his jaw before he can finish his sentence.Â
Several more plunges into his skull and a swarm of teammates swarm around to break apart the scene. The crowd is alive with excited hollering, drowning out the noise of the blood-stained threats Kenji barks his way, strings of saliva spurting from his mouth like some feral mutt.Â
The onslaught of players quickly, albeit with struggle, overpower him, successfully retrieving the weapon from his grasp. The edges of his manicured nails dig into the meat of his palms, forming maroon crescents in his flesh. Blind with rage, more threats that will surely put him behind bars are screeched into the air.
A few harsh yanks from the group of men and Kenji is finally pried from the catcher. He is dragged off the field past the rushing paramedics before he can fulfill his promises.
âAnd now it looks like there are words being exchanged between Sato and the Swallows catcher... Oh! Oh, no. We havenât seen a brawl like this in a long time! Both benches have cleared. Theyâre throwing punchesâŠâÂ
Soothing his sore muscles in an ice bath, Kenji watches the recording of his public meltdown with trepidation. Your eyes are not far and surely, you will bear witness to the violence his hands are capable of. He fears you daring to think he will treat you as such and his chest aches from the thought alone.
All he wants at this moment is to tear down the door to your apartment, take your precious face into his hands, and speak the utter truth as he assures you he will never bring harm to you. Heâll inform you of the context of the fight and what sparked such a reaction out of him. Then, youâll thank him profusely for his heroic defense and drown him in your sugar-sweet kisses. Just like he has dreamt of every night, often waking up in the morning with his puckered lips against his knuckles.
Now, however, Kenji has surely destroyed any chances of gluing you to his side forever. You resent him for that stunt he pulled at dinner, and now, you are afraid of what he and his baseball bat may do. The ongoing success of Ken Sato has crashed and burned, resulting in the loss of what he cared for most.
âKen!â Mina calls out to him. âI have something to show you!âÂ
Assuming it is another plan of millions to stamp the title of âloverâ all over you, he rushes out of the bath and throws his clothes on. Venturing into the basement, he is met with the very last thing he expected.
The containment unit has been raised. Inside is you, fast asleep with a bow on your head. Wearing just his jersey and holding onto a plushie designed after himself.Â
âSurprise!â
Minaâs robotic arms stretch out, presenting the gift she captured retrieved for Kenji.
In addition to your permanent presence, the containment unit has been extensively decorated. The adornments are all pink and fluffy, like a cloud draped over a sunset. A circle-shaped bed is strung above the ground, supporting the weight of you and the mess of plushy comforters. It rocks you from side-to-side like a fussy baby who skipped out on naptime.
The scent of lavender pervading the air eases you into a deeper slumber. Tranquil white noise hums from the surrounding speakers, suffusing with the sounds of a light rainstorm. There are even holograms of shimmering stars and a full moon hovering over you, like some colossal mobile strung above a crib. Among the stars is a constellation, of some sort, that reads âY/N SATOâ in glittering letters.
And poor Kenji doesnât know if he wants to beat Mina into shambles of wires or give her as many HTTP cookies her synthetic heart could ask for. For now, he is too woozy to make a coherent decision regarding her well-being. As he stated before, you always remain of utmost importance.
âMy GodâŠâ He gasps out through stuttering breaths.Â
His heart pounds so violently, he can barely hear the sound of his own voice over the persistent thumping. Kenji wobbles over to you as though he had just stood on his two legs for the very first time. He is almost positive there is a certain air suffusing from your body, entering his bloodstream and choking him with fervent stress. Every step forward renders his body weaker and weaker.
Images then begin to haunt his mind, preceding what may happen in minutes time. Kenji sees your weeping face, crying to release you from this bird cage. He can hear the thundering volume of your voice declaring you will never fall in love with him, how youâll soon vanish and leave him to forever rot in solitude.
The emotions these thoughts garner stir in his gut like a meal that doesnât agree with him. Gags poke and prod at his throat, threatening to release the butterflies fluttering around his stomach. A glob of bile then spurts from his mouth and splats against the floor. Kenji, horrified and sick with worry, races away from the scene before he spills his guts in front of you and humiliates himself even further.
What on Earth is he meant to do now?
When you finally awaken, youâre convinced youâve been melted into jelly. Maybe even restrained in a tank of thick oil. Limbs weak at wet spaghetti, you cling to any fragments of energy in your system as you try and discern your environment.Â
âWell, look who woke up!â A female voice greets you. âDo you want to see daddy?âÂ
Something globe-shaped hovers around the barrier youâve been ensnared in. If it werenât for your groggy state, youâd verify it to be a robot and not a talking basketball.Â
ââDaddyâ? What the hell are you talking about?â Your confused voice protrudes broken and sluggish, still stained with the sleep youâve just woken from.Â
A screen forms above you and before your distorted vision, you find the very last sight you wished to see. Ken Sato, your own personal parasite, sits stiff in the living room just upstairs. Bouncing his leg in an anxious rhythm, he seems to be engrossed by a video on his laptop. As you listen further, the contents become more distinguishable.
âWhen the moment is right, lean into your partner slowly and tilt your head to avoid bumping noses.âÂ
The robot clears her throat in an attempt at grasping his attention, but fails to do so.
âClose your eyes and let your lips connect naturally. Match the pattern of your partner to-âÂ
Another noise of acknowledgment from the robot and Kenjiâs attention is finally held. Barely, that is.
âWhat, Mina?â He answers curtly, eyes refusing to part from the information he is currently absorbing.
âSomeone is waiting for you down here.â
In all the years youâve lived on this planet, you donât think youâve ever seen someone move so fast before. Not only did Minaâs words arouse a visceral reaction out of Kenji, but they practically shoved him off the couch from the sheer force of her insinuations. His foot even gets caught behind a chair leg and causes him to land splat on his face, but this is not nearly enough to deter his acceleration.Â
The screen you were studying then folds into itself as an elevator descends from above. Through the cyan, blurred exterior, you see the frame of no other than Ken Sato. The doors open a mere inch before the man in question is squishing himself through the tight space. Always the acrobat he is, he gracefully trips onto his face, once again, before clumsily scrambling to his feet.
Now, youâre given the ability to absorb his appearance. Messy locks of black hair lack their normal gelled accentuation. Dark eyes are blown wide as though he were some feral animal. Tan arms are covered in red scratches from the relentless, anxious scratching he abused his flesh with.
The bold âICONâ on his shirt mocks you. Is that what he is? Is that what he expects you to perceive him as? Would an âiconâ do such a thing like this?
You ponder over how much time has passed since youâve been brought into this horrid basement, how much time has passed before friends and family have deemed you missing.
Kenji knows the answer to your questions. It had only been a day; twenty-four full hours of crazed, restless worry. He even skipped out on the championship for this moment, just to ensure you remained safe in the basement. He trusts Mina, of course, but he cannot rely on her to restrain you. The grasp he has on you is dangling by a thread, worn thin by his own stupid antics from before.Â
He knows now that if you were to take one step out the door, youâll be gone forever. And Kenji will die before he allows that to happen.Â
Meanwhile, youâre still trying to garner pieces of your memory together. After returning to your apartment from a hectic day at the studio, you allowed yourself to indulge in the hot meals always waiting for you at your kitchen table. Normally, youâd chuck them in the garbage out of distrust. Tonight, however, you were so overwhelmed with lethargy, you couldnât conjure enough energy to cook yourself a meal. So, the magic dinner-fairy would receive your blessing in the meantime.
One bite in and you were out like a light, oblivious to what exactly is waiting for you once you wake.
What was waiting for you now dashes toward the edge of your dog kennel, as youâd describe it. Kenji places a hand to the surface and his forehead lands against the wall with a light thud. His quickened, gasping breaths fog the glass. He does not leave even a centimeter between himself and the barrier separating both of you. The legs that have scored him more wins for the Giants than any other played in history suddenly grow weak, trembling as they try to support his weight.Â
Kenjiâs half-lidded gaze is devoted to you only. A curl forms between his brows from the fervency of his emotions the longer he stares. His cheeks go red as two ripe cherries while he just stands and watches, all dewy-faced and blushing.
âLower the containment unit.â He pants breathlessly, the sheer tone of love drooping from every syllable that parts from his mouth. Like pockets of honey seeping from a honeycomb.Â
âKen. That might be a bad idea. We cannot anticipate how they will react.âÂ
He presses lazy kisses against the glass as her words go through one ear and out the other. Ignoring her warning, he assures her of these concerns.
âI got âem, I got âem⊠My babyâŠâ
To your horror, the walls plummet and grant this monster full access to where you lie. Kenji collapses, again, not realizing he had been leaning his full weight against the walls of the containment unit. This sudden intrusion causes you to flinch and you crawl away from him, attempting to shield yourself beneath the thick covers.Â
Body shivering with feverish need, his hand grasps onto the corner of the mattress to stabilize himself. Mere inches away from your foot. His chin lifts to look your way, his eyes only needing to bathe in the sight of you forever. Within his irises, you find swirling pools of darkness illuminated by specks of glitter. Sparkling for you and you alone.Â
A smile pokes at Kenjiâs lips, bright and formidable, before he addresses your sour expression.Â
âAww, why the long-face? Is my baby hungry, maybe?âÂ
At the foot of the bed, a fraction of the floor folds open and rises a platter. On this platter is an array of all your favorite foods. Snacks, candies, sodas, juices, whatever your heart could possibly desire. Mina has correlated an all-you-can-eat buffet just for you. Similar to the dishes left for you back in your apartment.
As it spins, displaying every inch and corner of its delicious offerings, you curl further into yourself. You do not want nourishment, you want to leave! To part from this maniac and never hear of his name again!Â
With your refusal to eat, Kenji determines the reason behind your dismay to be because of him. Or, in his egotistical brain, the lack of him. The works of an absurdly large ego, youâd surmise.Â
âDo you⊠Do you need⊠Me?â The hope in his voice is akin to a child in disbelief over receiving surprise tickets to Disneyland.
And Kenji just melts from how gut-wrenchingly adorable you are. By simply existing, youâre yanking at his heartstrings like a puppeteer, guiding him further and further towards the edge of sanity. With eyes peering up at him like that, heâll welcome the predicament warmly.
âOh⊠Iâm right here, baby. Daddy wonât leave you.â He coos in your ear, the warm cadence practically oozing into your brain.Â
Still overwhelmed with exhaustion, you do not have a morsel of strength left in your body to fight off his affections. Despite how desperately you wish to. Instead, you have to remain pliant as Kenji guides you onto your back, soothing and shushing you as you sink further into the plush surface.
Tearing his shirt from his body, the loss of the âiconâ status, he crawls beneath the opulent covers with you. His arm snakes around your waist, while the other cradles your cheek. Hands shuddering and heart pattering as he presses himself against your back, he wonders how he had not simply died right in this moment. Youâre too perfect. Itâs too much for his poor heart to take. Cupid may as well have discarded the pink-hued arrows and plunged a knife straight into his chest.
Kenji leaves an array of kisses on the back of your neck as you drift back into a tranquil slumber. All those wishes he set on shooting stars have finally returned and placed you directly in his beloved bird nest. All to stay at his side forever.
All to never leave.
âș đ§ , đȘ· you are currently listening to . . . âș đȘș , đ” êȘ
â WHY CAN'T I FIND
NO ONE LIKE YOU . . . ? â
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#moonfairy#kenji sato#ken sato#ultraman#ultraman rising#kenji sato x reader#ken sato x reader#ultraman x reader#ultraman rising x reader#kenji sato imagine#ken sato imagines#ultraman imagine#ultraman rising imagine#yandere kenji sato#yandere ken sato#yandere ultraman#yandere ultraman rising#yandere#gender neutral reader#Spotify
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have you defined the meaning of âwhite woman brainâ anywhere and if not, can you? /gen
Many Black and brown feminist writers have discussed this phenomenon and I encourage you to seek out a lot of writing about this subject, because there are a variety of perspectives, but to distill it, white woman fragility brain is a phenomenon that is not exclusive to either white people or to women, but is especially common among those who can weaponize white womanhood, and it consists of the following qualities:
A view of oneself as a helpless victim that is constantly in threat of being attacked, especially by strangers (even though statistically, this is not the case).
A refusal to consider oneself as capable of doing harm to others, especially a lack of consideration toward others' body autonomy or consent. (even while being highly concerned about one's own autonomy and consent).
A generally passive or passive-aggressive orientation toward the world: seeing oneself as a romantic or sexual object to be approached, but never wanting to initiate (or feeling that one never can), never feeling comfortable directly communicating displeasure or one's desires, believing that others instead must guess at it. (and then resenting people when they don't, but never expressing it).
A tendency to cry, excessively berate oneself, complain about being made to feel "unsafe," or give up when criticized or challenged, especially when challenged by people of color.
A tendency to associate a person's body type with how much of a threat they are. For example, feeling unsafe around people with penises and expecting a social space to accommodate that fear to cater to you, a fear of people who come from cultures where it's common to speak loudly, a fear of those who are large, assertive, and/or darker-skinned.
Instinctive fawning-type responses to stress, and a pattern of feigning happiness, agreeability, and ease when one is not genuinely feeling it, and expecting all other people (but especially other women) to feign happiness as well, paired with a deep-seated resentment of anyone who violates this illusion and expresses any negativity (being especially punitive toward women of color).
Instinctively "smoothing over" conflict between other people before it even begins, even when healthy conflict is necessary and not at all your business-- often performed by gossiping behind other people's backs, triangulating information when it is not yours to share, asking people to alter their behavior in order to avoid a reaction from somebody else, presenting your concerns as if they were somebody else's ("what will people think!"), tone-policing the airing of grievances, derailing hard conversations with more light-hearted topics, and excluding people who are known to be candid and assertive.
Here are some articles on elements of the phenomenon and why it is so dangerous:
Now, I single white cis women out a lot when I am describing this phenomenon, because they have the most to gain from exhibiting these qualities, but make no mistake: this is a pattern that many types of people can and do use. I have seen white trans women use white women's tears to silence critique. I have witnessed women of color being passive-aggressively derailed and silenced by a Black manager who was in a position of institutional power over them. Multiple of the women who sexually harassed me in the story linked above were not white. And LORD knows I see plenty of t boys falling back on this shit, as well as cis men from wealthy backgrounds. It's a mindset that has deep colonial roots and we all must be on the look out for it in ourselves and others, and we must be vigilant in uprooting it.
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Special customer
Redhood
Special customer Redhood who gains the title by beating up some shady guys attempting to break into your bakery and apartment above it, and after the job was done, you begged him to stay around until you got a new security system installed. But even with it installed, he seems to be in the area. One night, you offered him a coffee, and now every night on patrol, he comes for his coffee.
Â
Special customer Redhood, got a pretty sweet drink, not something a vigilante would drink. It was a black coffee with 5 pumps of caramel and a dash of cinnamon sugar. Something about the unlikely order was cute in a way.
Â
Special customer Redhood, doesn't know that you have an alarm set, so you can wake up late enough to catch him and give him his coffee. One day he catches you, though. You come downstairs to check to see if he was there yet, and he sees you in pajamas, your hair up so you can sleep comfortably,Â
 "Wait, were you sleeping?" He looks you up and down.Â
"Nice pajamas"Â
Only then does he look up the hours of the bakery, seeing that it closes at 10 p.m., whereas he's coming in between 1 a.m. and 3 a.m. That was when he first realized how considerate you were.
Â
Special customer Redhood finally asks you about your day after two weeks of him coming in for a cup of coffee and a weirdly comfortable silence while he drinks and unwinds from his long patrol.
"How was your day... You look exhausted." He took a long pause, realizing he didn't know your name, but to his surprise, you laughed, and after that one small gesture, he knew he wanted to hear it again.Â
You and him talked for a few hours until his headset pinged that there was something suspicious going on in the area he was supposed to be patrolling, but here he was flirting with a baker.
He never got your name.
Â
Â
Special customer Redhood, gets the same thing every time, so eventually you give his order a special name. His own secret menu item. special customer, Redhood, who asks
"Did you name this drink after me?" When you sayÂ
"One red cup coming up." The name was Corny, and it slipped up before you could stop yourself, and now you cringed as you could hear the smirk in his heavily distorted voice. His question was immediately met with denial.Â
Â
Special customer Redhood enjoyed talking with you and learning about you. He also liked how you weren't pushy, not asking anything that could put his identity at risk. Here's a list of things he told you.
He liked classic literature.
He had never tried matcha before you made him try your new matcha white chocolate cookies.Â
He loved animals and always wanted a big dog.
His favorite color was green, which was surprising considering his choice of name.
He never went to college.Â
Â
New customer Jason Todd, who made you raise an eyebrow when he ordered a "red cup," had a barely noticeable smirk like he was thinking of an inside joke. Your eyebrow raised a bit more when a younger-looking guy asked
"Jason, why this bakery? It's not even a real coffee shop; they just happen to sell three types of coffee and a special lemonade. And its super put of the way."
His words were met with a flick to the back of his head by Jason.
"Because I like it here."
Â
New-ish customer Jason, who came in mornings ordering the same thing every couple of days every so often, had a person or two with him. But while Jason wasn't consistent, but you like him any.
Â
Special customer Redhood, who had been planning on asking you out as Jason for months. It was now winter, and the snow on the ground made him think of you. He knew winter was your favorite season, and it was the first snow of the season today. He knew it had to be today.Â
Â
Innocent bystanders Dick, Damian, and Tim watched their brother go mad over a baker. A mix of happiness and impending doom lingered amongst the group they had started taking bets on when he would finally ask her out a while ago. And so far, Alfred is the closest to winning.Â
Â
Regular customer Jason Todd, who had run into the bakery with flowers in hand right before closing, Slightly out of breath, he askedÂ
"Will you go out to dinner with me? Saturday night at 8 p.m.?"
"Sure." You smile happily, accepting his offer and you watch as his eyes light up and he hands you the bouquet of flowers.Â
Â
Boyfriend Jason Todd, who is surprised when you, after a year of dating, reveal that you've been suspicious since day one, All because of a stupid drink with a corny name.Â
Â
Boyfriend Jason Todd, who can't help but tease you,.
 "So it was named after me?"
Â
Boyfriend and soon-to-be fiancĂ©e Jason Todd, who proposes to you on the roof of your apartment and bakery the whole roof was decked out with a vine covered arch and fairy lights.Â
"So, will you marry me?"
Â
He gets on one knee, opening a gorgeous engagement ring with your favorite precious stone inside. It was your dream ring, and he was your dream guy, and of course you said yes.
Â
Fiancée Jason Todd, who pulls you into a passionate kiss when he hears the words leave your lips, couldn't be more excited to spend the rest of his life with you.
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The reason why they fell so hard.
Images found on Pinterest. Each spread consists of 5 cards. The messages will be written as if it were from the POV of the person you were asking about.
Group 1
9 of pentacles, queen of swords, 9 of swords, 5 of swords, the Sun
You're so freaking addictive. Every time you push me away, I can't help but to love you more. I was just raised that way. I was taught to work hard for what I wanted. I was taught that love should be deserved and was not to be messed with. I was taught that caring was fighting. Fighting for the sake of those you love. Fighting against those you love. I know, I was not raised in the best conditions. I know, I may not know what love is. But I know that I want you. And that, neither of us can deny. I fell for you because you never let me have my ways. You call me out and push me to be better. You never need me. You never wait for me. You just are. And you are perfect. Everything about you is rock solid. I don't have to worry whether you're gonna make it out. Because I know whether I'm here or not, you'll make it to the top. You did not wait for me to be who you are and that won't change. Whether I'm around or not, you're still gonna slay. And to know that someone so strong cares about me fills me with pride and desire. You got under my skin. Even if I wanted to push you away, I couldn't. You're everything I see. All I think about. Every decision I make is tainted in your color. Your warmth has penetrated through the cracks of my walls and now I cannot help but to seek for their comfort. I was alone. I was cold. I felt scared and misunderstood. I was tired. So exhausted of having to work so hard only to be met with silence. I struggled so hard to be where I am. The road to success is lonely, I've been told. Though I knew it, I couldn't help but to hope that I would find people along the way who would be there through thick and thin. But there were none. And then you came in. And everything changed. My sky is clearer because you chased the storm. How could I not fall for you after all?
Complementary information : this person is first and foremost attracted to your mindset as proven by the fair amount of sword cards in the spread. They may be a sapio sexual. If you tend to be considered the brains of your friend group, then this is one of the reasons why this person is head over heals for you. Another thing I'm strongly picking up on is sarcasm. You may not hold your tongue in presence of this person. You may tease them a lot or downright mock them when they're being rude or acting silly. There may not be a lot of people around this person that dare talk back to them. But you do. Somehow this shows this person that you are someone they can count on. Another important factor is your independence and your abundance. If you have your own business or you are a very active person, you make your own revenue and are able to provide for yourself and your family, then this person is in awe of your success. Even more so if you happen to be popular among your peers. You leave a very good impression on this person because of how serious and dedicated you are to yourself, your work, of how straightforward and fair you can be with others. You have a very strong moral code that gets this person weak in their knees. Your generosity may also touch them deeply. If we're talking about physical aspects of you, what stands out to me is that you may look very youthful and bright compared to other people. That may be true especially if you have a style that is a stark contrast from the rest of your circle. Or at least you're very different from what this person is used to. You represent some kind of extraordinary factor in their life. For instance, if this person has always lived in one city and in this place they only see very skinny and pale people but you are a bit chubby and of a darker skin tone, you will automatically strike this person right away. This person seems to be attracted to what is different from them. You represent the unknown, adventure. That may be very electrifying to them. There may be a bit of fetichism hiding under all that attraction.
Group 2
Ace of pentacles, Wheel of fortune, Magician, 3 of cups, 2 of cups
You took my breath away. The moment I met you, I knew I had to have you. You became as essential to me as oxygen in a matter of seconds. It's not just because of your beauty, your grace, the way you talk or cary yourself. It's about how perfect our meeting was, how in a heartbeat you became the answer to all of my prayers. I didn't know I needed you until I laid eyes on you and God do I feel thankful for being able to experience this. I feel so lucky being with you. It's like you're every one of my dreams come true. You're smart, patient, kind, loving, generous. You never bring me down. You never ask of me more than I can give. You never give me more than I can chew. You're always so fair and just. You just have that magic to you that I can explain. It's like someone has casted a spell and now all I can see and think of is you. To be honest, I wouldn't mind you casting a spell on me if that meant that I got to be with you for the rest of my life. You're so fun to be around. So chill. I just feel so good with you. Our dynamic is perfect. We match like to puzzle pieces. Made for each other. I'm sure fate has a lot to do with this. You were my destiny. I'm sure of it. Our meeting was no coincidence. I mean, you came in at the perfect time and the perfect place! If that's not destiny, I don't know what is.
Note from reader : this person's energy is so sweet omg they're just in awe of you. I get a very flirty energy from them. I got the message that they were especially drawn to your lips and hips. I heard "hips don't lie" lmao They think you're their Shakira. This person likes to tease apparently. For some I'm getting that you're a witch or you're into the occult arts like tarot and such. This person may tease you about this but they have nothing against it. It's just something they find hard to believe. But when they see you they can't help but to question everything they think they know. They legit think that you put a spell on them because of that. This person is aware that you use tarot as a way to manifest. They feel intrigued by that. You intrigue them more than you will ever know. I get a lot of sexual energy coming from this person, though the cards don't show it as much. However, I'm picking up on the fact that your person may be in a third party situation. Or at least, they were when you first met. What could have contributed to their attraction for you was the fact that you represented a way out.
Group 3
The Emperor, 3 of cups, The Empress, The Lovers, Judgement
Babe, can't you tell? How could I not fall for you? My princess. My love. You are gorgeous. Gorgeous in every way, as if God himself made sure that your creation would be a success. You are wife material. You are THE woman. Everything about you makes me go crazy. I want to protect and love you with all my might. You are my equal. My other half. The Yin to my Yang. Even if I wanted to hate you, I just couldn't. We're so good together. There isn't even a need to question or doubt it. It makes perfect sense to me that we should be together. You are an absolute queen. You are fierce, strong, independant. You value yourself without bringing others down. You stay true to your word and your principles. You've never been disrespectful to any body. You've built yourself up so brilliantly. You are smart and observant. You always know what to do, what to say, when to talk and when to remain silent. You are perfectly balanced and mature. Your life and accomplishments are the solid proof of your authenticity and worthiness. You are popular, admired among your peers. I always hear such good things about you. How could I not love every part of you? How could I disregard such a gorgeous being? That would be foolish of me. To me, our love is as obvious as the sun rising each moring and the moon shining in the night sky.
Note from reader : if this person hasn't asked you out already, I think they're going to do so soon. And let me tell you, they're no joke. They want to wife you up ASAP. My appologies to gentlemen and non binary people, as the channeled message mainly mentioned women. I feel like even though the message was written this way, the general content still applies to you. If you or this person is a Taurus or an Aries, this is your sign that you picked the right group. Gemini and Scorpio could also be relevant. What this person loves the most about you is your body. I'm hearing Ed Sheeran's song in my head. This person feels a strong magnetic pull towards you that they just cannot resist no matter how hard they try. They've expressed the fact that your personality and ethic is what got them going, but I think what drew them in first were your looks. I'm especially picking up on your curves overall and your sense of fasion. You looked very balanced to this person. And very mature. From first glance they thought "this person knows what they're doing". It's like they thought you purposefully matched certain clothes together because you knew how good it made you look. And looking at you they thought that you would make a good team. After all, this person is represented as the Emperor and you are the Empress. So they may be into fashion as well. Maybe they're the kind to wear couple outfits. And when they met you they immediately pictured you together because your style matched theirs.
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Dress Code - S.R
a/n: got a little carried away with this one, but ugh just imagining spencer reid coming to my defense has me down BAD
masterlist
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pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader
summary: in which spencer reid doesn't appreciate an agent questioning the length of your skirt
warnings: fluff, a rando flirting/being rude with the reader, mini skirts 4 life, definitely not appropriate for work but spencer doesn't give a FUCK
wc: 1.5k
"Interesting choice of attire for the FBI," the man's voice commented as you paused in the midst of penciling in his meeting with Chief Cruz. "Isn't that skirt a bit... short?"
The man was tall, though not quite as tall as Dr. Reid. His hair, a dark shade that caught the light as he moved (more so because of the liberal amount of gel in it), was neatly trimmed, but it lacked the effortless charm of Spencer's curls.
You had unwittingly set a standard, with Dr. Reid as the benchmark. You tried to go on dates, to distract yourself from the boy genius, but those dates turned into a mental tally--he's not as smart as Spencer, not as kind, not as attractive.Â
Maintaining an unshakeable smile, you stood up from your work area. "You think? I just love how it twirls when I spin!"
You demonstrated--the pleated hem of your pink tweed skirt billowing out around you. You wobbled on your heels, a giggle escaping you as you used the desk to steady yourself. Spencer's gaze followed your every move as you tucked a couple stray curls behind your ears.
Spencer intended to maintain a respectful distance, to grant you some space, but he found himself consistently drawn towards you, as if pulled by gravity itself. You were irresistibly captivating, and it wasn't lost on him that this allure undoubtedly affected others just as much. Â
His gaze sharpened into a glare, almost tangible in its intensity, directed at the man who hovered too close in your personal space, eyes trailing where they shouldn't as the fabric of your skirt fluttered with your movements.
The agent let out a soft laugh, inching forward to prop his elbows on the desk's edge, his eyes subtly scanning your legs. "I'd wager it becomes quite the tactical distraction during interrogations."
"Oh, I don't go into the interrogation rooms, silly!" you laugh, a melodic ripple in the air, as you ease back down into your chair.Â
You cross your legs, one over the other, the action accentuating the graceful lines of your figure, skirt settling into place with a soft rustle.Â
The man's smirk broadened, his eyebrow lifting in a choreographed motion. "You don't say?"
Your smile is radiant, blissfully unaware of the sarcasm in his voice. You tilt your head, a soft gesture as you rearrange a vase brimming with colorful flowers on your desk--a thank-you from Garcia for the cupcakes you gifted her with last week.
"Yep! I'm the first face people see here, and I want to make sure it's a good one!"
He nodded slowly, a sly grin spreading across his features. "The first face, huh? I suppose with a view like that, it's hard for anyone to get past the front desk. But isn't it a bit distracting for the agents?"
"I believe it's all about focus. And our team has an exceptional ability to focus, no matter the environment."
It was a welcome surprise to watch Dr. Reid make his way toward you, his walk a familiar lanky stride that somehow managed to be both awkward and graceful. You like his tie today, still crooked, but charming, and it was decorated with blue stripes that trailed up the side. Despite the sharp lines of his suit, there was something so undeniably soft about him.Â
"Dr. Reid, I..."
Spencer didn't let him finish his thought. "And speaking of work, I believe Chief Cruz is waiting on you for those files. Best not to make him wait."
You weren't speaking of work, but the agent was quick to excuse himself, nonetheless.
"He seems nice, doesn't he?"
Spencer's lips twitched, on the verge of breaking your idealistic bubble, but he stopped short, arrested by the sincerity shining in your eyes. The idea of spoiling your untainted perspective felt almost sacrilegious, not when your smile was so genuinely sugary it nearly could've brought him to his knees right then and there.Â
"Yeah," he conceded, his eyes trailing over your complacent face. "Nice."
You looked down at your skirt, plucking at a thread that had come undone. "You don't think it's too short, do you?"
You stood, ensuring he had a complete view, your palms delicately pressing the fabric down. Spencer's eyes opened a shade wider, the unexpected display catching him off guard. The skirt's length--or lack thereof--left little to the imagination, your thighs on full display, but he'd keep that thought to himself, and with any influence he had, everyone else would as well.Â
"No, it's fine, you look lovely."
"Lovely?" your eyes basically shimmered in this light, your chin gently resting in the curve of your palm as you fixed him with an intent stare. "That's high praise."
"Deservedly so."
"Dr. Reid, I'm blushing."
And you were, pink radiating across your neck and cheeks, but he was sure a similar rosy shade was coloring the tips of his ears.
You rose from your chair, circling the desk to position yourself directly in front of him, close enough for him to detect the light scent of Dubble Bubble on your breath. He, almost instinctively, found himself leaning in your direction.Â
"I just love how it feels," you noted, hand brushing against the cloth. "It's so soft, see?"
You extended the hem of your skirt towards him. Spencer's hand hesitated, then tentatively touched the fabric, clearing his throat in the process. He was even closer now, the scent of your perfume--what he thought was a mix of roses and a hint of citrus--engulfed him. The skirt was soft like you had said, but it was the warmth radiating from your skin that sent a jolt through him.Â
His knuckles grazed against your thigh, whether intentional or not he really wasn't sure. His usual clarity wasn't up to par, not with you standing so close, looking so nice. The world seemed to spin when he was around you.
You let out a giggle, a soft and effervescent sound that seemed to steal the air from his lungs. "Do you see what I mean? It's like wearing a cloud."
His hand snapped back as if touched by fire, his face awash with a flustered glow. "Yes, it's...very soft," he managed, raking his fingers through his hair, his gaze darting to any point but your legs, the memory of its softness scattering his concentration.
You offered a beaming smile, naively unaware to the sheer havoc you wreaked on his senses. He needed to get back to work to prevent any rash decisions--like taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours right there, an act that would certainly mar his professional record. He also wasn't sure you'd appreciate that.Â
As though you had plucked the thoughts straight from his mind, your fingertips brushed softly over his chest. "Goodness, I've been rambling on, haven't I? You probably have, like, super important stuff to do."
Your touch seemed to still the air between you, Spencer's breath hitching, momentarily losing his train of thought. "Oh, uh... well, no, it's actually kind of a slow day for me right now."
Your hand, moving from his chest to rest on his arm, offered a tender squeeze. "Oh, that's good, isn't it? You guys are always super busy, it's about time the universe gave you a break, huh?"
Just as Spencer opened his mouth to reply, you bit your lip, cheeks flushed with a sudden realization. "Oh no, I totally just jinxed it, didn't I?"
You quickly rapped your knuckles against the desk.Â
Spencer cocked his head to the side, a bemused chuckle escaping him. "What?"
Your words bubbled over with delight, closing the gap between you and Spencer until you were almost chest to chest. "Look at this, I'm the one who is teaching you something for once!" Your smile was wide and uncontainable. "So, knocking on wood--it's supposed to ward off bad luck or reverse a jinx, just like I might have done."
A myriad of scientific retorts teetered on the tip of his tongue, each one ready to debunk the notion of luck and its superstitious rituals. But those thoughts dissolved in the glow of your smile, as radiant and illuminating as an 1800-watt lightbulb.Â
"Really? That's fascinating," he mused, his smile soft. "I'll have to remember that."
"Right? Oh, and don't get me started on finding a four-leaf clover. I swear it's lucky. I found one once, and I had the best day ever."
To him, it seemed like you didn't have anything other than good days, despite the statistical improbability.Â
"I don't doubt it," Spencer replied with a knowing smile. Noticing the same agent coming out of the hallway, he excused himself. "Well, I'm going to get back. I'll, uh, see you later?"
"You know where to find me," you said.
As you spun to retreat to your desk, he offered a last, discreet glance at your skirt, more specifically the shape of your ass in it, before following after the agent.
"Walk with me, yeah?" Spencer suggested, his tone leaving no room for argument. It was out of character for him, but the way his jaw tightened suggested he didn't care. Once the distance granted privacy from your ears, he stated plainly. "Her attire is not up for discussion. If there's a concern, I'm the one you talk to."
The remainder of his day passed just as slow, and in the back of his mind, he entertained the thought that he had your knock-on wood to thank for that.
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