#let me live in my little mole house.

[sethsbigtits]

plsplsplsplspslpslspslspslpls school end already so i can go hooooooome ?????? please :3

[fairene]

beneath the moonlight / ln4

vacay lando norris x maxf!littlesister

no use of y/n, as always.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“are you sure? i can take–”

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

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

right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and then he was gone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

or so you thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

you thought you were going to kiss. 

and so did he. 

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

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

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

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

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

he smiled. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what? i wasn’t manly before?” 

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

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

“really?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“gonna jump out on me?” 

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

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

he chuckled at that. “i’ll try.” 

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

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

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

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

“between us, then?” 

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

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

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

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

“he say anything to you?” 

you flushed. between us, then?

“no. what would he say?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what?” 

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

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

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

you swallowed. nodded your head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“there,” you breathed. “all clean.” 

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

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

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

“guess so.”

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

you still couldn’t believe what had happened. 

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

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

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

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

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

“bright and early tomorrow?” he asked. 

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

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

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

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

he did. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you were shameless when you nodded your head. 

“so embarrassing, i know–” 

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

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

“what do you feel for me now?” 

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

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

he raised his arm, outstretching his hand for you. 

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

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

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

“you didn’t answer me.” he repeated.

you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“some dreams just remain dreams.” 

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

“do you want to dream forever?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he lied. 

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

‘course he fucking noticed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘n i’ve barely touched you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you shook your head. “no– no!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you don’t want me?” 

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

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

your brows furrowed. “do i?”

his expression dropped. 

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

your name was sweet on his tongue. 

“what would your brother say–?” 

“fuck what he thinks.” you leaned down. 

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

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

“how much?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“the one with the bows?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

he swallowed. shook his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

fuck that. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“slept great.” 

you scoffed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but you stood your ground. “positive.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

holy shit

you thought you were going to pass out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“asshole.” max mirrored you. 

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

though you did. 

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m sorry–” he said, “i was just—”

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

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

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

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

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

“i–” you gulped. “i didn’t mean–”

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

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

but you dared to disagree. 

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

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

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

“get your hands off me.” you bit out. 

“you didn’t seem to mind yesterday.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“we’ll see if you’re lucky tonight.” 

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

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

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

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

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

you had come up with the idea for dinner. 

fish. as everyone enjoyed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

though it was much easier said than done. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“dessert, anyone?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

you were. 

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

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

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

but your skillfulness was not. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and maybe you did. 

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

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

the answer was undoubtedly yes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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. 

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

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

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

“being a fucking tease…” 

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

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

you were.

your face flushed. 

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

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

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

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

“no.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he snickered. “guess so.” 

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

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

“let me–” 

you shushed him. 

“on the house.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and spellcasted he was. 

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

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

you were. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“he’s a good guy.”  

lando was sitting up now. listening. 

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

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

“and…what did you say?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

shit. 

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

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

“just you and me, yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“he’s a good lad, innhe?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you reminded him, but he didn’t care.

“fuck what they think.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“am i?” 

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

“think you like it, love.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

need

such an all encompassing word that would drive him mad. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

lando hummed. 

“about us.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“motherfucker.”

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

[ladybyakuya]

TWILIGHT -> female!reader x sakusa kiyoomi : : [ sakusa wants you to perform the special ritual before his match day like he generally does. ] fluff, soft smut, kissing, established relationship, endearment terms, love confessions but make it poetic, mention of pregnancy, wrote this to get hubby!kiyo from my head for a while; word count - 1k. part of summer olympics collab by @tetzoro | redirect to blog navigation.

Sakusa Kiyoomi is awake, so is the night sky: full of twinkling stars and whispering to each other. The weather app displayed the sunrise at 6:30 A.M. He walks out of the bathroom, with a towel wrapped around his torso and another in the grab of his palm lightly dabbing his wet hair. He takes slower steps than his usual pace making sure it is soundless. Standing in front of the mirror he looks at himself for a few seconds thinking what exactly he is supposed to do now. He then picks up the bottle of your moisturizer and then looks at you. You’re sleeping. Perfect. He is about to flip the moisturizer bottle open but it is your sleep-induced whine that makes all his movement pause. 

Your eyes are still closed. As you yawn, Sakusa’s jaw drops to the floor. The towel that was in his hand had already made itself comfortable around his nape. The bottle lands on the dressing table with a thud. He whispers, “Babe, why are you awake?”

Rubbling your eyes you exclaim with a dragging tone, “Why’re you whispering? We’re in a hotel. There is no one else in the house.”

Right. But you were sleeping so he did not want to wake you up. You finally open your eyes and see your husband standing five feet apart. Kiyoomi’s curls are sticking to his forehead making the moles barely visible. He takes two steps towards you saying in a soft gentle carcass, “Today is the day we part. . .” His morning voice hits you awake. 

There is a chair near the end of the bed. You smilingly exclaim, “why're you talking like that? It's as if we’re never gonna see each other again,” as he tugs at your nightgown. You understand the cue of his gesture. So, you take a step closer to him. 

In a swift moment, he pulls up your dress shoving his head underneath it. You feel his lips move against your ever-so-slightly baby bump followed by a grumble of words saying something. . .  God! . . you are always so warm. . . . something! He has been whiny about it since the day he found out how your body temperature is always a little warmer than usual. The reasoning never made it to his head whenever you tried to explain. He always ends up complaining about how God is unfair in his choices. But he is grateful that he has your warmth now, for the rest of his life and perhaps thereafter. . .

Letting out a giggle you ask, “Babe, what’re you doing?”

If you were not pregnant, he would have pulled you into his lap but he has been extremely cautious and protective ever since you conceived, always being wary of you. 

“I asked the coach if you can stay with me or not, especially in this condition. They rejected my proposal” You sit on his lap and adjust yourself to get comfortable as he continues. “It was Miya who objected first. That fucking miya,” You take the towel from his nape, his head involuntarily tips down a little to ease the process.

“Heyyyyy.” You immediately protest. At first, his eyebrow grows closer in confusion and then when the realization hits him, one of his limbs coils up to cover up his mouth but there is no hint of remorse on his face rather you can say he is hiding his toothy grin. Your eyebrows relax as you start to rub the towel upon his wet hair, drying it. It has always been a ritual since you started living with him: helping him to get ready before his matches. He says you are his lucky charm but has it ever occurred to your deat husband that he doesn’t need one? Once you asked him why he says that even if he is oozing with sportsmanship, talent, and stamina to which he said, “Because you would cry for me when I’m in defeat.”

Sakusa’s face vision is limited to your chest and lap as you dry his hair veiling his hair with the white towel. Of course, there is a hair drier but Kiyoomi prefers it this way. A low perpetual grunt escapes from him suggesting how pleasuring it is for him. 

“It's funny how you trust the other miya,” you quip biting your bottom lip in zeal.

“Nu-uh” Sakusa tips up his head raking away his vision from your chest to your face putting his index finger up, “I don’t. You trust him.” You grab his index finger and put it down on your lap. He realizes he is getting agitated for trifle reasons. Osamu will be coming soon to visit you. Sakusa does not want you to leave you unsupervised. Yeah! He worries too much. He does not need to know that you will be helping Osamu with his onigiri business. No! For now, he doesn’t. All he needs to do is to focus on his match. He will leave one week before the date on which the official match has been set to meet up with his team. He specifically chose to stay with you in a hotel rather than the Olympic Village.

You remove the towel from his head. There is a crease amongst his eyebrows. He mumbles, “I don’t trust the Miyas,” You snort out a laugh.

Sakusa’s limb latches onto the armrest so that you do not fall as you warp your waist to throw the towel onto the nearby basket that is kept beside the dressing table. Bingo! It’s a goal.

When you look back Sakusa is smirking. It is the kind of smirk that declares pride but not about himself. “It's not every day Osamu compliments someone.” He divulges pulling the strings of your night dress and getting a peek of your cleavage.

“I know right? I’m good with my hands.”He smirks seeing you garnish yourself once again being reminded of such a fond memory.

“Yeah tell me about it!” he whispers against your lips before kissing you. It's soft, tender, and fiery. Sakusa’s hand slips under your dress. He dips his index finger enough to pull the elastic of your underwear and run across his finger.

“We can’t.” you insist trying to swat his hand away but that hand had long ago sought a heaven in your body.

“Of course we can baby,” He pecks your nose. “The bus is going to be here after my lunch.”

[jeonjcngkook]

What about a drabble where the oc hasn't seen jk in a while and when they are hanging out, she like finally sees him and smothers him with affection, kissing his moles and you know just giving him kisses and he's all giggly and blus.... Omg what have i done.

right where you left me | jjk

pairing: jungkook x female reader genre(s)&au(s): sfw, fluff, romance, established relationship, domestic happiness, slice of life word count: 2.7k warnings: mention of alcohol + 1 sip bcs oc rather be drunk on luvin koo 🤤🥴 oh bet believe we r bringing back blue haired koo just 4 u sarah 🙃, making out, kisses kisses kisses 😚😚 — srsly i say it 24 times n its still !! not !! enough !! grr, ((maybe a surprise daddy koo who fuckin loves his baby ??)), how many times can i call koo 'pretty' ; the answer is also not enough 🥹 !! um, suggestive hints at sex 🫣 & sav being her typical self and never letting the est rel romance agenda go — srsly i cant do anything else 🫠. rating: mature nc17+ for suggestiveness note: unedited asf 🤷🏻‍♀️… ive had this lil request in my inbox for a while n wanted so save it for something special. so for @caelesjjk — i hope this makes you smile as much as it did me writing this. happy bday angel ♡ and for the anon who requested this, tysvm i love lil fluff requests like these n hope to do more 💘 hopefully you also like it too

Sighing a sigh of relief, you have never felt so happy to kick your shoes off at your front door after being away from work for so long. The all too familiar feeling of your feet sinking into the plush grey carpet beneath you fills you with a sense of comfort completely overriding the homesickness that once hovered over you like a bleak grey cloud.

The house is quieter than usual, the only sounds are from the floor creaking as you swap your shoes for your fluffy slippers filling the empty spaces. You pick your keys that you had just thrown on top of the shelf at the front door and hang them up next to your husband's set of car keys; the sight of them hanging gives you the answer that you’ve been asking yourself.. Jungkook should be home.

Making your way further into the living space, you notice that the house is kept in the exact same condition it was when you left last week for a girls getaway trip to London. There are the odd toy lying on the floor but other than that, it’s spik and span. The lack of sound from the TV, which is usually showing a rerun of Jungkook or your own favourite show is almost deafening, used to always hearing something playing in the background. Come to think of it, there are also no signs of melodic sounds from Jungkook’s usual soft r&b playlist either. 

The smell of cooking fills your nose and your mouth starts to water immediately. If Jungkook is unaware of the fact you’re home then you decide that you would keep this up and slowly tip toe into the kitchen in hopes to surprise your husband.

Slowly, you creep through the warmth of your living room and into the kitchen area where Jungkook doesn’t seem to be. You frown at the lack of husband in the room, a little worried about his whereabouts. He knows you’re returning today, even offering to pick you up at the airport when you land himself but you refused as your friend’s boyfriend was providing you transport home already.

However, as quickly as your frown came, it left when you find a bottle of red wine sitting on the island in the middle of the kitchen, and sitting next to it are two glasses and you can’t help but gnaw on your bottom lip to try and suppress your smile. You decide to rummage through the drawers, pulling out a corkscrew and removing the cork from the neck of the bottle. With a pop, the wine bottle opens and the scent of the fruity alcohol mixes with the smell of dinner, which is in the slow cooker behind you and you can’t help but let out a low hum of satisfaction. You pick up the bottle and pour the liquid into both glasses until half way.. If you're going to surprise your husband then you may as well do it with a glass of wine to greet him with.

Picking up the glasses in each hand, you decide to head up the stairs to the top level of your home to find Jungkook. As you pass the stairs, you stop and look at the wall which is filled with pictures of you both together as well as pictures of your family. You smile as you look at the images of family holidays, special occasions and fun times you’ve spent together. Your wedding picture of you both is centred in the middle and you can’t help but smile wider at the image.

Dressed head to toe in white lace and tulle with a diamond centrepiece on the dress, which glitters in the picture as the camera caught a moment between you and Jungkook staring at each other with love and admiration for each other. Jungkook stands next to you in his custom made all white wedding tuxedo and a matching diamond brooch clipped onto his suit jacket. One of his hands was wrapped around your waist as the other was playing with the ends of your hair. You remember in the moment that Jungkook was laughing a boisterous and beautiful giggle right before he kissed you so tenderly for the picture.

It wasn’t an image that was meant to be taken but it ended up being your favourite from the wedding shoot.

You move on and climb the rest of the stairs slowly and quietly. As you reach the top, your head turns in the direction of your shared bedroom and immediately you see the door is wide open and the room empty meaning there is only one other place Jungkook could be. You head in the opposite direction when you see the last door at the bottom of the hallway cracked open slightly, only to let a sliver of red light into your view from the hallway.

The faint sounds of keyboard clicks can be heard as you approach the room. Gently, you push the door open to be greeted with Jungkook’s dual monitor screens lighting up the room along with the dark LED’s. The top of Jungkook’s head can be seen over the headrest of his gaming chair as you see his giant headset resting over his ears, blocking out the sound of the outside world as he continues to click away at the buttons on his keyboard, successfully managing to kill an opponent on the opposite team of the game he is playing.

On one of the monitors, you manage to see the little pop up figure of his body in the corner and notice that he’s shirtless, which isn’t something he usually does when he streams. You scrunch your eyes slightly to find that Jungkook has your eight month daughter wrapped up in her favourite white blanket resting herself on his chest as one of his hands sits underneath her to keep her placed comfortably. It’s now that you register the little snores coming from your baby girl as you lean against the doorway and take in the sight in front of you. Your little girl has her tiny palm opened and resting against her daddy’s skin and her chubby cheek pressing into the bare skin of his chest.

You hear Jungkook hum as he watches over the comment section of his stream as he continues to play, making sure to answer people as quickly as the comments come.

“...Yeah, it’s proven that skin to skin contact between newborn babies and their parents improves bonds long after birth,” you hear Jungkook say and you grin at his answer. You bought those books on pregnancy for you but you swear you caught Jungkook amongst the novels more than yourself. Every night through your pregnancy,  Jungkook would tell you a new fact that he had learned for the day and couldn’t wait to share it with you.

“It also lowers stress levels for babies and parents too, as well as promotes a healthy breastfeeding cycle for the little one. I’d do anything I can to help out _____ in any way I can. She’s brilliant. She gave me everything I could ever want right here,” Jungkook says as your little girl rustles slightly against him. “Speaking of ______, she should be home soon,” he thinks out loud.

Placing both of the wine filled glasses on top of the table on the side wall, you’re able to rummage your hands in your pocket to pull it out. You snap the image in front of you of him on the monitor with your baby in his arms before opening your thread of texts between each other and captioning the moment before sending him the picture.

Jungkook’s own phone lies on the desk with the screen up; lights up with your notification. You watch as he’s quick to grab it and clicks into the notification to enter in your direct messages together.

You [8:32pm] : {image attached} shes already home ;)

Jungkook turns around and sees you standing there waiting for him with the glasses in your hands, smiling fondly at both him and the infant in his arms. He immediately replicates your smile before turning back to the camera he has set up and announcing his departure from tonight's live stream.

Slowly, he moves out of his gaming chair and makes his way over to you. In the week you have been gone his hair has already grown out a few extra inches, the blue ends now long enough to touch his jawline. The front of his hair falls over his face in pretty black wispy curls while some fall from the sides and have been clipped back by a few of your hair clips. He’s just so beautiful. His bare chest rises up and down gently and slowly while the eight month old girl continues to snuggle herself against her father. You take in the image of intricate swirls and patterns of ink that extend over his shoulder, flexed bicep as he keeps your daughter secure in his arms, all the way down his forearm and hands. He’s just the prettiest.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” he whispers as he bends down ever so little to meet you halfway into a sweet kiss. You reach a hand around his neck and pull yourself towards him as he kisses you, chasing his pretty cherry flavoured pouty lips.

“It’s so good to be back home,” you admit. “How long has she been asleep?” You ask as you run your fingers delicately through her hair.

Jungkook thinks for a moment before telling you it’s only been a couple hours. Jungkook had already fed her and bathed her before he started his stream, so all there is to do now is to put her to bed in her crib.

You exit the gaming room with Jungkook following right behind you. In your bedroom, you place down the wine glasses and you’re quick to sift through your wardrobe to pull out a comfortable outfit to lounge around the house in, one that you hadn’t spent falling asleep in on an aeroplane for hours. Jungkook bends over the wooden structure of the crib and places the baby inside. The latch of the crib is secured once more and the sound of her hanging mobile sounds out a soft melody.

Once dressed, you make your way over to Jungkook who is admiring you from the other side of the room having missed his beautiful wife for a week. With his hair now removed from the hair clips and almost fully covering his glittering eyes, he flashes you that all too familiar, signature pretty smile he has before reaching out for you and enveloping you in his arms.

You jump into his embrace and lock your legs around his waist from behind, cupping his cheeks as you smother each other in kisses, whispering soft greetings and compliments.

“I’m so happy to see you again,” you whisper faintly as you continue to press kiss after kiss after kiss onto his lips. “I’m so lucky to have you as mine,” you finish.

Jungkook smiles as he starts to walk out of the room, reaching for the baby monitor as he keeps you secured in his arms and you reach for the wine from behind him, taking a generous, long overdue sip. Jungkook carries you down the stairs and into the kitchen where he places you down on the kitchen island and closes the gap between the both of you, placing his lips back on yours quickly and much more demanding than the last few times.

He grins at you, a glimmer in his eye and he hums suggestively. “I’m right where you left me darling,” he winks, his accent lacing his words as you listen to him attentively.

After years of being with each other, it never stops getting exciting being with Jungkook. The warmth that was once in your tummy has spread all over, goosebumps now covering your skin. Being in his arms definitely feels like home; a sense of safety and security that you yearn for that only Jungkook can provide you.

Deepening the kiss, you push your tongue past the seam of his lips eagerly and let it tangle with his own. You both smile into the kiss as his grip on your waist tightens, pulling you closer to the edge of the marble island and further into his embrace.

You can’t help but whimper when you break the kiss in favour of leaning into his neck and kissing the skin there. You lick your lips and make sure to leave wet trails as you travel further down towards your desired target. You give the little mole on the side of his neck a sweet peck, over and over, the wet sounds of your mouth leaving his skin fills the space.

A small growl vibrates through Jungkook’s chest, his hold on you becoming slightly tighter as you continue to dote on him. It isn’t long before your kisses turn into soft bites and vigorous sucks, planting cherry shaded blossoms over the mole on his neck. 

“_____,— mm, baby, am I not the one that is meant to be taking care of you tonight.. afterall you have just come back?” Jungkook moans.

Jungkook pulls away from you and stands taller to await your answer. Gazing into your eyes, you watch as his own eyes do that pretty thing where it smiles before Jungkook physically smiles. It’s your favourite trait he has.

“And who said that was the case, huh?” You jest with a light and teasing tone before continuing, “you’re taking care of me by letting me kiss my pretty husband. You’re taking care of me by letting me make you feel good.”

The only thing Jungkook can do in response is giggle, a light sanguine blush finding home on the apple of his full cheeks and you can’t help but wrap one of your hands around his neck and the other flat against the taut, hard muscle of his pectoral, caressing the skin back and forth before pulling him back in to chase his lips once more.

The kiss is unhurried, soft and gentle, yet with a hint of hunger for each other as the both of you take your time to enjoy being together once more. You bite Jungkook’s lower lip, drawing a shaky moan out of him as your teeth grazes his bottom lip and then letting it snap back into his smile pleasantly.

You can’t help but peck at the tiny mole under his lip and smile back at him, your silent way of telling him you love him. And then a thought pops into your head, one you know that Jungkook loves that you do.

Drawing Jungkook back in towards you, you press another little kiss to his bottom lip mole before travelling a little further down and kissing on the beauty spot just on top of his chin. You make a scene of it, letting out a loud ‘mwah’ sound as you continue to kiss away.

Moving on, you find the next two moles that are top and bottom of each other close to his ear and bathe them in love and affection just like you had done to the other two previous.

Jungkook loves when you’re soft and delicate with him. It isn’t something he would admit too to his group of friends but being dotted on, being cared for and loved admirably the way you do melts at his heart.

“Baby,” he whines as you tilt your head back slightly to plant a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose, your favourite place to kiss kiss kiss.

His hands slide under the fabric of your sweater, his hands warming your skin up more than the material did. “The last time we started off doing this,” he exaggerates his words by squeezing at your hips and then removing one of them to point towards the ceiling, “that happened,” he grins as fond memories of filthy kitchen antics replays in his mind.

His words ignite something inside of you akin to fireworks as he mentions your sleeping baby currently curled up in her cot. You react by wrapping your dangling legs back around his frame, pushing him further into you by your ankles as you heat up at his words and grin at him playfully.

“And what would be so wrong with that?”

Stunned, Jungkook doesn’t seem to know how to react to your words. It hasn’t been a topic of conversation about having another baby this soon, although you both have agreed that you both want a larger family.

“This soon?”

Now you ponder his words for a split second, already knowing your answer and already knowing that you want to start trying again for another baby as soon as you can. You lean in closer, your lips ghosting his as you close your eyes and breathe in your husband’s natural scent. “Take me to the dining table, koo.”

note2: don’t be a silent reader & leave some feedback in my asks, reblog with a nice comment or even a lil reply saying if you enjoyed — big or small, they go a long way! supporting writers is always important <33

[heeswifetypeshi]

THOSE EYES

NCT: MARK

warnings: none

synopsis: Mark comes back home from a terrible day and finds comfort and solace in you. He doesn't want anything or anyone except you.

pairings: idol!mark x non idol!fem reader

genre: fluff

I'm going to kill myself if I don't get home. All I want to do is go home and wrap my arms around her. All I want to do is stay with her even if time flows away cause there's no other place i want to be, no other person I'd wanna be with except her.

It's a tiring day at the studio and the manager seemed to have a problem almost every single minor note in our new song to point he raised dour voice at us. I had to go back to the studio, recheck everything all over again and finally after thirty minutes of discussion, we decided to rerecord our song, once again and after a tiring day at work, it was around 10:30 PM when the manager was finally satisfied and dismissed us.

I rush back home, and my members think it's because I'm really tired and maybe I am but more importantly I want to go back home to the love of my life. My whole body feels elevated at the thought of going back home to her.

I'm back home and I'm greeted by the fresh scent of floral musk. Y/N always uses this scent as a room freshner everyday after cleaning the house and it reminds me that I should thank her for cleaning my appartment. She's been nothing but a genuine sweetheart to me ever since we moved in, infact ever since we started secretly started dating. With the tiring work and packed schedule, it's the greatest joy to find solace in someone so dearly loved and it's exactly the same with Y/N and I.

The lights are off and I assume she's asleep. I carefully remove my shoes, and enter the appartment, cautious not to wake her up. When I reach our shared room, my heart swells. She's sleeping so peacefully, the curves of her face relaxed. I slowly slid into the bed but being the light sleeper she is, Y/N stirs in her sleep and slightly shifts but before she could do so, I put my hand, sliding up and down her back. "Hey sweetheart, it's just me, it's alright, go to bed." I assure her in a whisper.

"Hey, it's fine, I'm not really tired, I was just waiting for you to come back home." She says in a sleepy tone, and my heart does a little flip.

"Aww sweetie, it's fine really, you can sleep. " I tell her.

"But I want to cuddle." She says, her doe eyes shining in the dark room. I really love this woman with my whole heart.

I let out a lovesick sigh and tell her, "Alright then, let me take a shower first." She smiles at me and my goodness I can't get enough of her.

I step out of the shower, with a towel drying my hair. I wear a pair of grey sweatpants and I look for a shirt before I realise that Y/N was wearing my brown plaid shirt and a pair of black shorts that barely reaches down her thighs. I chuckle to myself and make my way to our shared bed. I take it that she's asleep and go through my phone and before I can dim down the light, she shifts slightly and says, "Babe, spoon me." in a soft childish tone.

I laugh softly before turning to her side, her back faced towards me and lean my head on her shoulder and wrap my arms around her waist, her cheek grazing mine. When she turns to me, she smiles and kisses my cheek. I'm in utter awe and lean forward to kiss her cheek, eliciting a sweet tone of laughter from her.

She looks at me, and I'm falling, infact  drowning in her hazel brown eyes. There's a mole on her cheek and the tip of her nose and I lean down to place a kiss on her moles, her dimples and I just soak in her vanilla scent. I'm so addicted to her, so in love and I'm not complaining at all. I do not have a single problem at all. I'm just obsessed with her, can't live without her as if my existence depends on her very being.

And again she looks at me and smiles and I just fall again. Fall deeper this time. Words aren't enough to describe how much I just love her, just because. I love her for her. I love her because she is herself. She was there when I thought I could handle it by myself, when I least expect. She's always there, brightening my day even when I know the rest of the day is filled with dread. I can't thank her enough for making me want to see ever new day.

I find comfort, warmth and love in her eyes as I stare back at her.  Her beautiful eyes are all I need, in her beautiful eyes. It's the same eyes she gives me whenever we're on a date, viewing the city. It's the same eyes she gives me when we're out in the night, laughing loud and nobody knows why. It's the same eyes she gives me when we're lost in a club getting drunk. It's the same eyes she gives when we're done making love and she looks up at me with those eyes. And I'd never want anything more, anything less.

And it's the small things she does, the gestures she makes, that remind me why I love her. And everytime she's not with me, whenever I'd close my eyes, all I see is her. And it's everything she is, that I love her with all that I am. I don't have much to offer, but she accepted me without hesitation. Her eyes, her face, her smile, her body, her love is all I'll ever need in life.

I peck her cheek and say, " I love you Y/N, you know that?"

She smiles and kisses my lips, her love pouring out in front of me. She breaks the kiss and says, "I love you more, Mark. More than you could know."

I lean into her shoulder and neck, pressing a soft kiss there before snuggling her in my arms. She holds my hands from the front and we're both overtaken by our sleep and we're left with our love and the assurance that I'll wake up with her by my side, like always.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook says i love you for the first time.

> fluff, a twinge of angst / wc: 2.8k

> warnings: making out, false stealing accusation </3 not exactly a warning but jungkook moles appreciation moment that did things to my heart

note: hehehhe look at me procrastinating again :] as always feedback is always appreciated <3

—

“why are we hiding?”

you sigh, resting your head on jungkook’s chest. you can hear the pounding of his heart in your left ear, loud and fast from adrenaline caused by a reason still left untold.

“i’m scared of him. let’s wait for him to go inside.”

“what’s wrong? did he do something to you?” he tenses up, his protective arms wrapping themselves around your body. as if it’s possible to be further pressed up against each other in this small gap that separates the two houses sandwiching the two of you. it’s not. you’re not even quite sure how you managed to squeeze yourself in here along with your boyfriend, who is wearing a backpack.

you wince, embarrassed about your current situation. sometimes you find yourself fearing that your inborn magnet for trouble might drive him away before you can even celebrate your first anniversary. ironic. funny.

you take another glance at your neighbor’s porch, only to be disappointed to find that he’s still there, reading the newspaper while sipping on a mug. he’s an old man who lives with his teenage grandson. he’s quite famous around your neighborhood for his beautiful garden. having spent all of his precious time making the best out of the earth he was blessed with, he is deserving of the lovely compliments.

you’ve grown quite fond of this little tourist spot as well. you allow yourself a minute or two every morning to admire the flowers before going on your merry way. it’s a good reminder that you reap what you sow. perhaps one day, you will also live in your own house. with a porch, and a flower garden. and if it’s not too much to ask, a peach tree would be nice, too.

but the thing is . . . today’s visit didn’t exactly go well.

to summarize it quickly: “uhm, how do i explain this?” you chuckle nervously, looking up at jungkook. “this morning, i saw a sunflower that fell on the ground. so you know, uh- just like what any other person would do, i picked it up. but then he saw me holding it, and he accused me of stealing. which i didn’t do! clearly! then he started jogging to me while holding up his cane, so of course i got scared . . . and ran away.”

“but you’re not hurt anywhere, right?” he tenderly strokes your face, illuminated by the warm streetlamp, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“i’m alright.” your abashed eyes meet his, and he breathes out a sigh of relief. “i probably overreacted, honestly. my flight response just activated.”

“no- he sounded threatening. of course you got scared.” he interjects, frowning.

“if i avoid him for a while, he would forget about me eventually, right?”

“oh, my baby,” he surprises you with a quick kiss on the lips, followed by another. “how can anyone accuse you of stealing?”

you unsuccessfully hold back a smile, hiding yourself between the unzipped confines of his jacket to muffle the loud beating of your heart inside your ribcage. you can hear it in your ears, and you’re embarrassed that he might also does.

he chuckles, pressing a kiss on the back of your head. “let’s come out, baby. there’s no reason to hide. i’ll protect you if he comes for you again. we’ll clear things up.”

“but i just don’t want to put you in that situation, you know? i’ll figure it out myself.” you come out for air, but his sweet perfume lingers in your nose like a vivid memory. “and this is so comfortable. let’s just hug here for a little while.”

nobody speaks for a beat.

“okay then. let’s keep each other warm.” his embrace tightens, and you hear the crinkle of the plastic bag hanging on his forearm.

“hmmm, sounds nice.” you hum, closing your eyes to bask in the peaceful atmosphere.

this is one of the things that makes jungkook’s presence in your life very special. when you’re with him, you’re only aware of your heart. your mind stills and quiets, and your heart takes over. pumping to the beat of ‘hold on to this, hold on to him’. and that’s not difficult to do, especially when he makes it clear that he bears no plans of letting go of you either.

it’s been seven days since you last saw him, since you were last held like this. you know you’re both busy, but seeing his face on a tiny screen before bed just isn’t the same as feeling his warm body.

when you got home earlier this evening, you discovered that the lightbulb in your bathroom went out. it’s the first time you’ve had to change one since you moved to this apartment, so you never really realized that the ceiling is too high for you to reach. you attemped to remove the lightbulb to see if you could handle the task yourself. you stacked the two chairs you have and stood on the tips of your toes, but to no avail. your efforts proved futile.

when jungkook called, you were already at the hardware store to pick up lightbulbs with extras to keep for future emergencies.

“can i sleep over tonight? i miss you.”

“of course, baby. but i’m at the hardware store right now. i need my bathroom light changed.”

you heard a zipper closing from the other line, followed by rustling. “the one infront of a pet shop?”

“yeah,” you were browsing through the wide selection of lightbulbs, having an existential crisis because you’ve never truly given this object much thought in your life. you used to just grab one and leave, but you were talking to jungkook, so you took your time tonight.

they even sell four-foor-long lightbulbs in here? wow, there are chandeliers over there. are you in this stage of your life now? finding stuff such as house fixtures interesting?

“okay, wait for me there so we can walk home together. it’s getting late.”

“okay,” you responded with a foolish grin. the thought of holding hands with him while walking got your ankle twisting before the sole of your shoe brushed across the floor to express your giddiness.

if jungkook carries on spoiling you like this, it’s going to become harder and harder to imagine your life without him. having him, and belonging to him, it could make or break you. it’s . . . terrifying. nevertheless, it’s a risk you found yourself wanting to take no matter the consequences.

you love him. you love him. damn it, you love him. the lights laid out infront of you could light up all at once, and in your eyes, he would still shine brighter. your hands shook, restless in your limbs, craving to be touched by your man.

—

“have you eaten dinner?” you ask, knowing how hard he worked today.

for a guy who claims to hate texting, he sure does text you a lot. he sent you pictures throughout dance practice. he had a big smile on his face at the beginning, saying he was ready to work hard. later on, he showed what he had for lunch. and then it ended with him slumped in a corner, face and neck sweaty, zoning out.

“i had meat and rice. but i feel more energized after seeing you.” you jokingly huff at his answer, and he chuckles. “did you not miss me too?”

“why else do you think i’ve been hugging you for the past ten minutes?” you remove your hold on his waist, throwing your arms over his shoulders instead. his earring brushes against your cheek, but you endure the cold metal to keep him this close.

“can i have a kiss?”

you pull away slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “come get it then.”

and one hell of a magnet for trouble you are.

enchanted, he drinks in your features. from the arch of your eyelids, down to your cupid’s bow. he marvels at the stars that make up your beauty, the stars he crawls home to at the end of each passing day.

he offers you a sweet smile, and next thing you know, your back is pressed against the wall, your weak knees buckling, and your fidgety hands tangled in his soft hair. you don’t know how kissing came to be an act of intimacy and romance, but your lips caressing jungkook’s lips, the subtle brush of his tongue against yours, and his hands squeezing your hips— visceral, euphoric, devotion. it makes sense. it all makes sense to you. when is the mouth at its most honest, if not when it is kissing?

he pulls away to nuzzle his face on your neck, warm breath contrasting the chilly spring night. “don’t pick up flowers on the ground again. i promise i’ll get them for you more often from now on.”

“you promise?”

“i promise.” and he seals it with one final kiss on the corner of your lips, curved upwards by a delighted smile.

you take another peek at the porch, itching to finally take off your shoes and to change into your snug pajamas. “oh my god, he’s gone. all the lights are out.”

jungkook is the first one to wiggle out from the confined space, and you follow suit with your hand held tightly by his. you whimper in discomfort when you feel numbness and tingling on your right foot, pausing for a second to stomp it on the ground before catching up to your boyfriend’s pace. a breeze blows as you pass by the house you ran away from this morning, causing you to visibly shiver. your boyfriend notices, and so, he pulls you to his side and rubs your arm to provide you warmth to the best of his abilities.

“you’re so cold, baby. why don’t you wear gloves?”

“it’s too hot when i wear them.” you complain with lips forming a pout. “being cold is better.”

you’d rather have his hands keep you warm, so at least until winter arrives again, you will remain stubborn and gloveless. however, you are forced to briefly part when you reach the staircase leading to your apartment. you hold onto the left railing, him to the right, and you reunite at the final step.

your apartment is the fourth door straight ahead. you enter your personal space with jungkook secretly excited about getting to use his spare key. two pairs of sneakers are lazily left on the welcome home mat, and two pairs of socks are tossed in the laundry basket.

after shrugging off his backpack and jacket on your bed, your boyfriend goes straight to the bathroom with one of your newly bought lightbulbs. the stacked chairs are still there, and he laughs to himself when he realizes that you attempted to reach for the ceiling.

he makes sure the switch is turned off before climbing on the chairs, his heels slightly rising so he can use strength without losing balance. he replaces the burnt out lightbulb with the new one in under a minute.

“you already changed it?” you exclaim in surprise, flicking the switch to see it for yourself. alas, a bright light fills every corner of your bathroom. “you’re a lifesaver!”

your cheek is rewarded with a kiss as he passes by to bring back the chairs to your kitchen. “you’re welcome.”

“oh, babe! if you get hungry, i still have chicken in the fridge from earlier. do you want me to heat them up?” you trail behind him while hugging your bath towel.

“i’ll do it myself. go wash up now, so we can go to bed.” he separates the chairs and places them back at their designated places around your dining table.

you sigh as you are reminded of the task assigned to you tonight. “i need to do my readings before bed, though.”

“you’re not done with that yet?”

”i have two chapters left.”

you fell asleep on your desk last night doing the same thing. and if yelling at you through the video call didn’t work? he would’ve gone all the way to your house just to carry you to bed. but he’s with you tonight, so he doesn’t need to worry about that anymore.

“then can i watch a movie on your laptop?”

—

you originally planned to study on your desk, as a diligent and studious person would normally do. does lying on the bed, where you rest and sleep, make sense? no. however, it’s not exactly the bed you find inviting. it’s jungkook, looking all cuddly in his oversized shirt and pajama bottoms, with your laptop sitting on his naked lap (he bunched up his bottoms to his thighs because he realized it’s warmer on your bed than he initially predicted). it also seems that he found the headphones you forgot you left on the couch yesterday.

compared to your bed, the desk looks awfully grim. and so, you crawl between your boyfriend’s legs, carrying your two-inch thick book and blue highlighter. he squeezes your body for a second, not missing a chance to plant another kiss on your face before letting you settle down with your back against his torso.

the next hour and a half is spent in silence, mostly. you’re leaning to the side, the lamp shading the pages of your book. your eyes are watering under your glasses, and you wipe the tears away carefully with your thumb. beneath you, jungkook is watching the notebook, said it’s been years since he saw it for the first time and he already forgot the plot.

you can hear the sounds spilling from the headphones, barely, really, but it’s still there. you can also feel the laptop starting to heat up, slightly burning your thighs carrying its weight. it’s been sleeping on your desk the whole time you were gone, after all. you don’t mind. it feels oddly comfortable, warm. you’re not sure if it’ll remain that way by the time the movie concludes, but you’ll just have to cross the bridge when you get there.

your eyes. your eyes just won’t stop bothering you. the tears are streaming down into your ear. they’re begging for a rest. left with no other choice, you put down the book, sliding the highlighter in between the open pages. you close your eyes for a minute, and using your finger, you write the alphabet on jungkook’s knee to keep your mind awake. you’ll never know, but the heart you draw after the letters j and k puts a fond smile on his face.

your eyelids flutter open, and your gaze lands on his thigh. bewitched, the tip of your finger has a mind of its own. this time, it traces the two moles adorning his delicate honey skin, crossing the distance between them back and forth.

“these are my favorite.” you whisper absentmindedly, unaware that your boyfriend has paused his movie due to your distracting touches.

he leans his cheek on your temple, warm hands sliding under your shirt to rest on your tummy. “i thought your favorite is the one under my lip?”

“oh,” you sleepily blink in realization. “i’m torn. the ones on your thigh are so cute. and unique. they’re like childhood friends.”

his quiet laughter turns into a fit of giggles when you pinch at the space in between, drawing an elephant with his moles as the eyes, just as he demonstrated the first night you slept on the same bed.

“i think you need to go to sleep, baby.”

you contemplate between work and sleep, blankly staring at the book. “how much longer until you finish the movie?”

“mhmmm,” his finger slides across the touchpad to make the remaining time appear at the bottom of the screen. “thirty-two minutes?”

“then i’ll wait for you so we can sleep together.” you force yourself to pick up the book again, scanning the paragraphs to find where you left off.

another scattered kiss is placed on your skin, where your shoulder and collarbone meet. and he doesn’t understand why this feels like the perfect moment to say the three magical words for the first time, when you’re barely awake and his heart is beating so fast he’s afraid he’s going faint. he planned for this to be more special and romantic, but this, tonight . . . it only feels right.

more than a confession, it’s an everlasting promise. he wants to let you know that he’s not going anywhere. you don’t have to grasp your time with him like water in your hands. when you wake up later this morning, he’s going to be by your side. and the next hundred thousand mornings after that. it means he is steady, and he is sure— body, heart, and soul. it means he is honest, and he is patient. it means he carries you in his heart like a locket hanging on his neck everywhere he goes. it means he believes love is true when it is given.

he stutters your name, which he rarely uses when talking to you. but your brain is too fuzzy to recognize that fact, and you only hum in question as you try your damn hardest to absorb the words you’re reading.

“i love you. i don’t mind if you sleep first. i know you had a long day.”

—

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[crybabycinna]

Short skirt (sugar mama Lin Beifong x sugar baby reader)

Minors just go away 🤣

Lin takes her favorite girl shopping and things get a little spicy when they get home. Also special guest Asami and Korra are here 💖 (I’m tempted to do an Asami cosplay I feel like 1. Id look hot asf and 2. My bf would be drooling)

“This is the eighth store love.” Lin said with a sigh. “I'm not leaving till I find a short skirt in my size.” I said. “Do you really need it?” Lin asked. I turned away from the rack and looked at Lin. “Summer is starting and I’m not gonna just wear shorts and dresses all summer. I need more in my closet.” I told her. “You mean my closet.” Lin said. I glared at her while she smirked. “You know I can always go back to my old apartment building.” I said and stuck out my tongue. Lin gently grabbed my face and squeezed my cheeks. “That’s not our arrangement.” Lin said.

I shrugged. I’m chief Beifong’s sugar baby and we agreed that I live with her, go on dates, help her keep the house clean, make lunch for her and of course have sex with her. I can’t complain because I get shopping trips and anything else I want. I get shown off as if I’m her girlfriend but I’m not. I’m just her sugar baby nothing more nothing less but I won’t lie I enjoy my time with Lin a lot. Lin let go of my face and I went back to looking for skirts. I felt like I was looking for hours. I mean I have been but now I’m just over it! I’ve been finding a lot of other cute things that I of course I picked up but still not what I’m looking for.

I’m gonna lose my mind. “Come here.” Lin said and dragged me over to a table. I looked at the table and they were full of skirts. I scanned the skirts and picked up a few. Lin grabbed a black one and handed it to me, I took it from her. Reading the tag it said it was mine and I pulled at it to see if it stretched and it did but not by a lot but more than enough for me. I let Lin hold it for me while I grabbed a few more in different styles. When I was done we made our way to the register. Lin paid for everything of course and we definitely don’t need to talk about how much money was spent.

As we made our way out the store I saw Asami and Korra. Korra was holding a lot of bags. I assume they are on a shopping trip like us. “Asami!” I called. Asami turned her head to my direction and she smiled real big. “Hey!” She shouted. We ran to each other and hugged. “I’m glad I caught you, I’m having a party next week. You guys have to be there.” Asami said with a big smile on her face. “Of course we’ll be there.” I told her. Asami and I continued to talk some more. “I see you got sucked into a shopping trip as well.” I heard Korra say to Lin. Lin just huffed. “The things we do for love.” Korra said.

Asami laughed at Korra’s comment. “You know I love you very much.” Asami told Korra then gave her a kiss. I felt a slight twinge in my heart. Korra and Asami love each other more than anything and everything they do is out of love and yes I’m jealous. I can’t help it. “We should go to lunch.” Asami said and grabbed my hand. “We should.” I agreed. “I know that’s not a badger mole stuffed animal hanging out your bag.” Korra teased. “Oh hush leave me be.” I said. “Aww that’s so cute, I need to find a polar bear dog stuffed animal.” Asami said. “You should! It would be so cute for you to have.” I said.

Asami looked at Korra. “It’ll be our baby.” Asami laughed. I gasped and looked at Lin. “No.” Lin said. “Yes, this badger mole is our baby and we have to figure out a name for her.” I told Lin. Lin sighed. “What restaurant are we eating at? I'm starving over here.” Korra told us. “Oh right umm where do you guys wanna go?” I asked. “We’re going to the noodle shop near my job.” Lin said and grabbed my hand to drag me away. “See you guys there!” I called as Lin dragged me away. Once the bags were put in the backseat we got into the car and I sat in the passenger seat.

“Thank you for taking me shopping.” I said sweetly then kissed her cheek. “You’re welcome hon.” Lin told me as she started up her car. As Lin drove she kept her hand on my thigh, sometimes she drew little circles or just rubbed my thigh. She gave me butterflies and I loved it. Every touch made my heart melt. I kept stealing glances at Lin. “What is it love?” She asked me. “Nothing, just looking at your beautiful face.” I said. She just smiled. She’s just so hot. I looked away because I could feel myself getting horny. I don’t know what it is about this woman but she drives me crazy.

Lin parked outside the shop then got out of the car, I unbuckled myself while she walked over to my side. She opened the door for me and helped me out. “Thank you baby.” I said. Lin nodded and held my hand. We entered the little shop and saw Korra and Asami waiting at a table. “I’m surprised we beat you guys here.” Asami said. “You know Lin has to drive the speed limit.” I teased. “Maybe you need to start driving.” Korra said. “I’m a passenger princess, I don't drive.” I said. “I’ll teach you.” Korra said. “Absolutely not.” Lin said sternly.

“Oh come on, Lin , I'm an excellent driver.” Korra said. “You drive eighty miles per hour.” Lin said. “I’ll teach you.” Asami said. “You ran over Mako.” Lin said. “I apologized.” Asami said. I laughed. “Then you teach her.” Korra said. “I’m too busy.” Lin said. “I feel like she’d yell at me a lot.” I said. “Oh yeah she definitely will.” Korra said. “Did you figure out a name for your baby?” Asami asked. “No, what do you think I should name her?” I asked. “Name her noodle.” Korra suggested. “No name her tea.” Asami said. I gasped. “I got it! Her name is Detective Tofu Noodle.” I said.

“I love that.” Asami gushed. “Detective?” Lin asked. “Do you have a problem?” I asked. “I’m just confused on how your little badger mole became a detective.” Lin said. “She’s our daughter and she just wants to be like her big brother Mako.” I said. “Stop saying Mako is my son.” Lin sighed. “Ok but he’s called you mom like three times and you didn’t get upset.” Korra said. “Exactly.” I said. Lin rolled her eyes. When it came time to order I let Lin order for me. She knows what I like and I just like her taking control like this.

After our lunch double date we went home and I decided to try on the black skirt Lin picked out. I slipped it on and it fit perfectly. “Wow.” I said. I went out to the living room to show Lin. “Baby look,” I stood in front of her. “You look good.” Lin told me as she looked me up and down. “I’m gonna go try on the others.” I said as I turned around and walked back to the room. Before I could grab another skirt I felt a hand grab my ass. “Lin.” I gasped. “Take these off.” Lin said as she reached under my skirt and started to pull down my underwear. I helped her take off my panties.

I reached to take off my skirt but Lin stopped me. “No, keep that on.” She told me. I raised a brow. “On the bed, ass up.” Lin commanded. I did as told and as soon as I got into position I felt my skirt go up and then a harsh slap on my ass. I let out a loud moan. “Spread your legs some more.” Lin told me. Once my legs were spreaded more Lin’s tongue swiped at my folds. “Mmm baby.” I let out a soft moan. As she ate me out she spanked me. “Oh fuck Lin.” I whined out.

[christinesficrecs]

do you have any recs for fics post 3B or post season 4? Thank you!! Love your blog 💜💞

I'm so glad you asked! 🩷 This is my "omg, this was so good" list. 😊

Written in the Scars by dr_girlfriend | 15.3K | Explicit

Stiles stared into eyes that were just a little lighter than even the day before, looking almost beta-gold in the harsh lighting. His nose was just a little less uptilted, the moles on his face not quite where they used to be. The scar on the bottom of his chin from when he fell off the swings in third grade was just gone. He seemed a little bit taller, his shoulders a little bit wider.

With trembling fingers Stiles folded his left ear forward, craning his neck. A wheezing breath escaped him, his legs suddenly feeling weak with relief.

The mark of the Oni was still there, the one that meant self.

Stiles was still himself. For now.

The Walls Are Breathing In by secondstar | 41.8K | Explicit

Nothing could go wrong. It was just supposed to be a safe trip to the Nemeton. But this is Beacon Hills and things are rarely that simple. Welcome to the life of Stiles Stilinski.

Or, that time that Stiles accidentally became a sorcerer against his will.

Someone Else’s Dream by theroguesgambit | 36.6K

Post-3B. Derek has gone missing, and Stiles’ dreams might be the only way to save him.

out of the nightmare, into your arms by  tryslora | 6.4K

Stiles wakes up in the bathtub. It’s the third time sleepwalking this week, and at least this time he’s in the house. Ever since the Nogitsune, he’s had nightmares and nothing, and no one seems to be able to stop them. Until Derek.

Full On Rainstorm by BarlowGirl | 10.5K | Explicit

He catches Derek by the arm and Derek lets himself be turned, surprised when Stiles shoves a small box into his hands. “I don’t know if you still celebrate it or what but… I wanted you to know someone was thinking about you. Happy birthday.”

Then he squeezes Derek’s arm and bolts, gone before Derek can think to stop him.

He opens the box standing there, only to find one singular, misshapen, sloppily-frosted, cupcake, with a candle in the box next to it. It’s kind of squished despite the paper towel all around it to keep it from banging around in the box.

If You’re Going Through Hell (Keep Going) | 48.5K

Stiles thought everything leading up to Allison’s death was hell, but he was wrong. Spending senior year dealing with the pack’s dismissal of him while secretly training to be Deaton’s replacement was hell. Feeling guilty and hating himself for what the Nogitsune did was hell. Being in love with someone who would never love him back was hell. Well, if you’re going through hell, keep going.

Not Quite Lost (Not Quite Found) by alocalband | 25K | Explicit

A year after the nogitsune is defeated, Derek is living a quiet life in the mountains above a small town in Colorado.

Then Stiles shows up.

The One You Choose by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions) | 13.4K | Mature

Stiles hadn’t seen Scott in over a week, except for glances he caught during school hours.

Saturday Night At The Movies by aussiebee | 7.3K | Explicit

After running into Stiles at the late night movies, Derek realises just how badly Stiles is handling the post-nogitsune fallout. He knows the feeling.

Sense of Home by siny | 53K | Explicit

Home can be a place, but it can also be a person.

After the events with the Nemeton, Stiles starts suffering the consequences of their sacrifice. A journey he attempts to make on his own, but only becomes worse with every step he takes. In the process he seeks comfort in an unexpected place and it draws him toward an unexpected person.

Illuminated by ZainClaw | 5K 

“Because I’m falling in love with you and it’s scaring the hell out of me.”

Start Small, Like Oak Trees by SmallBirds | 24.2K

The months following Allison’s death have passed Stiles by in a haze of monotony. He sleepwalks through days that seem to lose their color, an unwilling passenger in a body he no longer trusts. Eventually, he thinks, he’ll just fade away. He isn’t sure anyone would notice. Then, during a spur of the moment grocery run, he stumbles upon Derek Hale attempting to console a lost child, and for the first time in recent memory the world doesn’t seem so awful. He’s not sure what he’d been expecting when he eventually convinces Derek to move into the Stilinski’s spare bedroom, but a newfound passion for weeding and topsoil certainly isn’t it.

Nitesky by  thepsychicclam | 7K

Stiles has trouble dealing with the after effects of the nogitsune, and Derek finds him sitting on his roof.

Honey, Can’t you See (The Bloodstains on my Teeth) by  Loup_Aigre, TroubleIWant | 44.9K

“Mr Stilinski.” Deaton’s usually impassive face betrays a hint of surprise today, maybe even disappointment. “You haven’t changed your mind.”

Stiles tips his chin up, smiling against his irritation. “Nope,” he confirms, so cheerily it bites. They had arranged this weeks ago, yet Deaton was apparently betting Stiles wouldn’t go through with it in the end. Fuck that. He doesn’t know what it’s like out there, not really. He can afford to hold himself aloof and uninvolved, knowing his druid power is enough to keep him safe in this little office. Stiles can’t. Scott’s pack has got to protect this whole town, and Stiles’ spark isn’t enough to protect all of them while they do it.

^^^technically not post-3B but soooo good!

[tothosewhoyearnforit]

impurity pt.1 - chaewon

- my first ever smut :D idk this particular outfit of chaewon’s honestly riles me up whenever i think about. nothing that bad, just pretty kinky i guess

- length: 1188 words

- chaewon x male reader

Being Chaewon’s boyfriend was something you never expected to be. Supporting her all the way from Produce 48, then through her Iz*One and Le Sserafim activities. You were pretty much living what every Chaewon stan wanted to do. 

The first few months of Le Sserafim’s debut was extremely difficult for both Chaewon and you. There was a lot of work that Chaewon had put in to ensure that her second debut went well and garnered the attention of many netizens and her newly appointed responsibilities as leader of Le Sserafim placed an even greater burden on the girl. The bullying scandal with Kim Garam forced Le Sserafim and their management team back to the wall where they had to adapt to moving forward as a 5 member group. This considerably heavier workload meant that Chaewon seldom had the time to spend time with you and go on dates like you guys used to after her time in Iz*One, making you extremely troubled and constantly worried for her well-being. 

After her debut, you guys could both put time aside to spend more time with each other and your feelings for one another developed even more intensely, going so far as to staying the night over at your house or crashing at the dorm in Chaewon’s room. In a blink of an eye, they geared up for their first comeback, Antifragile, which was an absolute hit amongst the kpop industry. Chaewon soon returned to her busy schedule and you started being able to count the number of days of which you hadn’t seen your little tiger. 

Then, in what seemed to be the middle of the Antifragile promotion era, you received a text from the one and only...

hey baby, i end early today. wanna crash at yours and spend some time together?

Without hesitation, you immediately replied.

sure! what time will you be coming over ? need me to pick you up?it’s getting kinda chilly these days

ah it’s fine, manager-nim will drop me off today. see you in about an hours time

Deciding to set the tone, you decided to put on Impurities, the b-side track from the comeback album, and tidy up your apartment. 

Can you see huh

You hear the sound of tiny delicate hands knocking on your door right as the song reaches its chorus.

“ Oppa !” Chaewon exclaims as she dashes right into you and hugs you. She lets go and takes off her puffer jacket, setting it aside on the sofa in the living room. Below it, she’s wearing the stage outfit she wore back when the group was filming the MV for Impurities. Chaewon’s features are hugged by the seemingly small outfit. Her small but perky tits are accentuated with this outfit along with her short skirt that draws your eyes down to her fishnet stockings that fails to hide her mole on her left thigh as well as her defined leg muscles. 

She then jumps back onto you again. This time, you catch her with your arms on her thighs as her lips crash into yours, displaying how dearly she has missed you. 

She pauses for a moment.

“Hey, isn’t this my song? I even filmed the music video in this same outfit !” 

“Well, I couldn’t help myself could I ? It’s such a good song. And about the outfit, it suits you very well my little cheetah.”

“You have such a way with words. Take me to the bedroom, I need you right now.” 

The kiss resumes as you rush into your bedroom, your balance awfully unstable, crashing into the furniture and the door. You throw her onto your bed and begin undressing each other. You take off her top, revealing her perky mounds and her toned abs, moving up and down with every deep breath that she takes. Then her skirt comes off with ease, revealing her glistening slit. As Chaewon moves her hands to take her fishnets off, you stop her in her tracks, whispering into her ears, “Keep it on, it looks really sexy on you.” You then dive head first into her honeypot, thrashing your tongue about inside, earning a few quivering moans that escape from Chaewon’s mouth. “Ahhh… how I needed this so much… You have no idea…” She places one hand on the back of your head, locking your head in place as the other grabs onto the bed sheet like a cheetah’s paw. Her hips arc like a wave as she moves her body to get the most pleasure out of the absolute work you're doing to her. Then, her hips start to buckle as a wave of her girl juice gushes out of her slit and onto your face. The pressure from her hands gradually softens as she pants out of exhaustion from reaching her high. “That was haa…the haa…first time in a haaa…that I’ve came.” 

Chaewon then positions herself at the edge of the bed, her head hanging off the side. “Let’s try something new shall we? I want you to facefuck me in this position.” You're surprised by this sudden suggestion but obviously you’re not going to say no to such a dirty minded idea. Chaewon grabs your rock hard cock and kisses it at its base and at its tip, sending a wave of pleasure throughout your synapses. Then, she swirls her tongue around your cock and puts a bit of your length into the mouth that has sung many iconic song lines. Maybe that’s the reason why she is so good at giving head, the repeated vocal tension has allowed her mouth muscles to move in ways unimaginable to the human mind. You then lift her head up gently and start thrusting your throbbing length down her mouth. You look down and take in the sight to behold, her bare body with just her fishnet stockings around her beautiful legs spread out right on the bed and her face unable to be seen except for your cock moving in and out of her mouth as she gags and her spit start to form a mess around the sides of her mouth. Unable to contain your pleasure, you start groaning in pure ecstasy and lust. You start speeding up your thrusts as you near your climax. Just as you’re about to finish, you reluctantly pull your length out of her mouth as you aim your cock onto her body spread out right in front of you and spurts of white fly onto her breasts and her toned midriff, Chaewon gasping for breath underneath you. 

“Wow, that was amazing Chae, where the heck did you learn about that?” 

“It was just something I saw on one of those porno channels in the hotels in Japan, it really turned me on and when I was getting eaten out by you just now, I suddenly got reminded of it. I’m glad you enjoyed it though !” She sits up and smiles at you with your cum dripping slowly down her upper torso using two of her fingers, she scoops a smudge of it up, and licks the cum cleanly off her digits.

“Delicious.”

[lixiebokie]

can’t be friend, cant be your lover

idol: hwang hyunjin x reader

summary: the time y/n showed up at hyunjins house and the time hyunjin showed up at hers.

warnings: angst, that’s it lol not proof read

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

she didn’t know if this was a stupid idea, but she needed to see him one last time. his pretty face with that stupid little mole under his chocolate eyes and his beautiful smile. she was telling herself it was for closure, even though she had been the one to break up with him.

hyunjin opened the door, luckily she assumed if it was one of his roommates then she wouldnt be allowed in.

“y/n? what are you doing here?” she felt like she was going to break at the sound of his voice. so close to surrender the wall she had been building up and beg for him back. his hair was messy, and he was in comfortable clothes but he managed to look amazing.

“i came to see you.” he didn’t answer still looking at her.

“can i come in?”

“i don’t think you should-.” he sighed not budging from the door frame. the rain had made the goosebumps on her arms rise but it couldn’t be seen over her cardigan.

“i want to see you, before it was.. over i guess.”

hyunjins face grew sturn, “it was over the day you broke up with me.”

she didn’t know what to say. “should i go get your stuff?” he asked. she didn’t answer losing focus after his sentence gave her a harsh reality check.

“you don’t want to fight for this?”

“y/n i tried to fight for us the day you called it quits. i got on my knees and begged like a dog and you still sent me away.” his voice raised throughout the sentence. “what more do you want from me?”

“hyunjin-“

“no i think you should go.” she didn’t look at him again instead turning on her heels and running down the steps of his garden.

she didn’t look back but also didn’t hear the door close, it confused her but she realised it was in fact a stupid idea.

——

it was the middle of the night when she found hyunjin crawling infront of her front door. as soon as she opened the door the limp body had monunvered their way in through her legs.

if it was anyone else she would have scream for them to get out but seeing who it was she let them land in the kitchen where they came to a halt and sprawl on the floor.

“hyunjin get up please.” he groaned eyes closed as if he was going to fall asleep there.

“take me to bed.”

“no, you don’t live here anymore.”

“i do.” he slurred out through his yawns. she moved away to the sink to grab him a glass of water. in that time he curled up and fell asleep on the tiles.

apart of her wanted to shake him away and tell him to leave straight away but a bigger part of her wanted to make him comfy in a bed that was once theirs and cuddle him.

“hyunjin.” she crouched and tapped his face lightly.

he wasnt asleep instead tucked away to hide the tears rolling down his soft cheeks. his face glowed in the moon light and they were so apparent.

“y/n i love you.” he cried out, she ignored him as she helped him up and walked him over to the couch in the living room.

he flopped down onto it still crying out for her as she went to grab the duvet off her bed to give him. his words didn’t feel like they meant anything, all drunken words nothing more to her.

she wanted them to be real and if he was in a sober state saying the things he was now she would have slightly believed him.

coming back down the stairs she could see hyunjin had fallen back to sleep. his cheek pressed against the seat of the couch and he’d turned on the movie she had paused to answer his knocks.

she tucked him in adjusting his head onto the pillow.

she should have walked away and went to bed herself but she crouched down, moving his hair out the way and stroking his face. his skin was soft like always. “you shouldn’t have come here.” she whispered her voice breaking.

she wasn’t sure if he could hear or not, hyunjin was stubborn anyway and pretended to be asleep a lot of the time when they were together to receive extra cuddles or kisses. “but i guess you can stay.” she placed a small kiss on top of his head staying there for a few seconds before getting up and heading to her own bed. turning off the tv and heading upstairs. she turned taking one last look at him, his back towards her. she walked away before it was too late and she couldn’t do something she’d been stopped herself from since they split.

hyunjin was gone before she came down stairs in the morning.

she wanted to have a chat with him before he left but as she arrived in the living room no one was there. she couldn’t convince herself it was a dream because the duvet was nicely folded and sat on the couch, the only thing present a small note on top. ‘sorry for the inconvenience:(‘ written in rushing handwriting.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

author notes: this didn’t take long but i was listening to memories and thought this would be a good fic so enjoy ❤️

[hardboiledleggs]

You Looking at Me Looking at You ~ Steddie Week Day 6 @steddie-week

Acrid smoke belched from beneath the hood of his dingy van. Eddie sighed as he slammed his fists against the steering wheel and snatched his bag from the passenger’s seat with a groan. Just his luck.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled across the parking lot, eyes squinted against a bitter wind that was howling across the campus. This was the third time this month that the van had quit on him on his way to class, and he was fresh out of extra cash to pay for even a bus ticket, let alone a tow truck.

Eddie had just finished weighing the merits of walking home versus calling his Uncle Wayne, who lived in a trailer an hour away from campus, when he reached the squat building housing his favorite class, Intermediate Painting. He swung the door wide, breathing in the smell of canvas and turpentine, and stepped around the many easels scattered across the floor until he reached his favorite corner. Robin was already there, fiddling with her supplies, and her face broke into a toothy grin when she saw Eddie.

“Hiya, Munson! I was wondering if you were ever gonna get here. You’re usually so early, is something wrong?” she chirped as she busied herself with arranging her brushes.

Eddie flopped onto his stool with a huff. “It’s my stupid van. Fuckin’ blew another gasket or some shit. I thought it was gonna explode before I made it into the parking lot.”

She winced in sympathy. “That’s too bad, Eds. You can’t ask Wayne for any extra cash to maybe replace the engine or something?”

“No, no, I-I mean, I don’t want to bother him with something like this. He’s got a lot on his plate, and I’m an adult. I’m supposed to be figuring this stuff out on my own.”

“If you’re sure. Hey, you can always crash at my dorm tonight if you can figure out a way to sneak past Wheeler. She’s been taking her RA duties veeery seriously lately,” Robin rolled her eyes as she said this. “Apparently, Carol from 306 got busted when she went home for Thanksgiving. They went into her room for maintenance and it turns out she had snuck her boyfriend in and he was living there. Wheeler was pissed it happened under her nose.”

Eddie snorted. “Carol Perkins? From our English 101 class first semester? That doesn’t surprise me at all. Remember when she came in late for the exam covered in hickeys? She clearly doesn’t know how to be subtle.”

He grinned and began to sort through his own supplies as Robin cackled. Today was supposed to be a live model study, and he had been struggling with the assignments set to them regarding the human form so far. Eddie had been practicing sketching strangers in the park and at coffee shops, but Professor Bauman had insisted that he had yet to “capture the innate sexuality of the bare human form,” whatever that meant. He was determined to get it right today.

At that moment, Professor Bauman swept into the room, wearing a bright pink smock smattered with paint. He clapped his hands together, silencing the muted chatter in the room.

“Children, children! We have precious little time today for our artistry, so PLEASE let’s get started. I want you to focus on the proportions of your sketch today, making sure that we’re being as accurate as possible before any paint blesses the surface of your canvas.” He leveled a pointed look at Robin, who flushed and picked at a hole in the knee of her jeans. “If everyone is ready, I’ll go and grab our model for today.”

Eddie stuck his tongue out at Robin. “Eat it, Birdie. You aren’t the favorite anymore.”

“Oh, please. You know he lets me call him Murray during office hours.”

“Ask him to boost my grade next time you’re in there, will you? Make yourself useful for once.”

Their squabbling was cut short as Bauman’s office door swung open and out stepped Adonis. Okay, it wasn’t really Adonis, but to Eddie, the model may as well have been the stunning Grecian figure. He was stark naked, of course, which allowed Eddie to see the moles that dotted his gleaming skin like dark constellations. His bronze hair was swept artfully off his forehead, almost gravity-defying in its levity. He was toned, but not overly muscular, and his chest was covered in a dense thicket of hair that Eddie wanted to press his face against. Eddie desperately worked to keep his eyes level with the model’s collarbone and not stray any farther down.

“Hi, everyone, I’m Steve. I’m just going to be doing one pose today, so I’ll be taking quick breaks to stretch every 30 minutes or so.” Steve had a nice voice, calm and alluring. “Feel free to come closer if you need a more detailed look at anything for your sketch, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”

He smiled at the class, showing off a row of even white teeth. Professor Bauman shook Steve’s hand firmly and waved him toward the low table in the center of the room.

“Remember, let your hands be your brushes. Let the colors move through you and allow them to direct your movements. You have two hours. Begin, please!”

At that moment, Robin elbowed Eddie sharply in the ribs, forcing a hacking cough from his lungs as he took his first breath in what felt like hours.

“Jesus, Munson. Subtlety isn’t your strong suit either,” she muttered from the corner of her mouth.

Eddie spared her a glance of disdain before watching Steve lower himself onto the table, folding his arms underneath his head and bending one leg so his knee pointed skyward in a pose that showed off just how muscular his thighs were. Shaking himself, Eddie sorted through his pencils with a shaking hand until he found one light enough to begin his sketch with.

The next half hour was torturous. Eddie really did try for professionalism, carefully outlining Steve’s frame and sketching out the proportions for his hands, but every time the model shifted to grab a drink of water or stretch out his limbs, Eddie’s eyes drifted downward and he became so flustered his pencil would slip and mar his careful marks.

At the hour mark, Professor Bauman began to walk around the room to begin his critiques. He had this way of leaning into his students’ space and artfully picking apart their work that was equal parts impressive and unnerving. At Robin’s canvas, he paused for about a minute before remarking “Don’t be afraid to get up close and give the appropriate detail to the more intimate parts of our friend Steve,” which made Robin blush.

His gaze slide to Eddie’s work, and he broke into a pleased smile.

“Yes, Munson! This is what I have been looking for from you! Do you see how you’ve used the light in the room to bring the focus of your sketch to his face? And his expression, my God, so simultaneously haunting and sensual! Excellent work, keep it up!”

Bauman swept away in a dramatic fashion, leaving Eddie to bury his face in his hands. The word ‘sensual’ echoed around his skull. He wondered if Steve had been listening to that particular bit of the professor’s speech and internally debated whether it would be more embarrassing to leave now or possibly be stuck walking to the parking lot at the same time as the model.

Robin snorted, catching Eddie’s eye and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively as he glowered at her. Leave it to Buckley to revel in his extreme embarrassment.

The class continued to sketch silently, save for the shuffling of supplies or a muffled curse when someone smudged their careful pencil lines. Eddie had almost completed his initial portrait when he got to the hands and frowned. Hands had never been his strong suit; they were always proportioned differently on each person, and there were too many knuckles and creases to ever look natural.

Sighing, he gathered some scrap paper and a pencil and shoved his stool back from his easel. He shuffled into the center of the room to Steve’s side, trying and failing to keep his eyes on the more appropriate parts of the model. Steve’s eyes flitted to his own, and he grinned up at Eddie, though he kept his body completely still.

“Need to see anything specific?” he asked quietly.

Eddie flushed beet-red. “Uh, your hands?” he asked, cringing internally at his indecisive tone.

Steve lifted one hand and placed it in Eddie’s palm. “Do your worst, Munson,” he said with a wink. “That is your name, right?”

His fingers were warm and solid against Eddie’s, and each nail was painted a different color, though most of the paint was chipping. Up this close, Eddie could smell a faint hint of something floral: Steve’s shampoo, maybe? He clutched Steve’s fingers and sat on the small stool next to the table, searching for his usual confidence.

“That’s my name, feel free to wear it out.”

A hastily-stifled laugh shook Steve’s chest, and he glared at Eddie in mock anger as Eddie’s ego preened under the positive attention.

“I really need this paycheck, dude, don’t screw this up for me. I can’t go back to scooping ice cream at the mall,” he whined.

Eddie smiled as he held Steve’s hand up, carefully bending and straightening each knuckle as he sketched.

“Sorry, big boy. I can’t just turn off my irresistible charm all willy-nilly. What if a handsome man walks in here and starts flirting with me? I have to be prepared for every possibility.”

“I thought a handsome man was already flirting with you,” Steve shot back, a glint in his warm brown eyes.

Eddie’s heart skipped a beat, but he recovered quickly, glancing around the room in exaggerated confusion.

“Really? Where is he?”

Steve yanked his hand away, still grinning. “You wound me, Munson. I thought I had a sensual form? Maybe I’ll just take my talents elsewhere.”

Eddie finished his sketch with a flourish and stood, shrugging at the model still lying flat on the table in front of him.

“I suppose you can do that, but good luck finding another cute guy to flirt with in here,” he drawled.

“There’s always Professor Bauman,” Steve snarked, and Eddie snorted as he backed toward his easel.

As soon as he had flopped back into his seat and his face was hidden from Steve, Eddie spun to face Robin. She was already looking at him with a knowing expression on her face, one eyebrow lifted in an unspoken question.

“He’s so hot, Birdie. And funny. I’m going to die!” Eddie hissed at her, and she rolled her eyes at him fondly as she took in the panicked expression on his face.

“Just so you know, Mr. Hot-and-Funny watched your ass the entire walk back to your seat. Good thing you wore your tight jeans today,” Robin smirked.

Eddie flipped her off and schooled his face into a neutral expression. He refused to give her the satisfaction of flustering him.

When the professor told them to pack up for the day, Steve stretched languidly like a cat and loped into Bauman’s office. Eddie gazed after him dazedly, watching as his muscular thighs flexed and his ass bounced with every step. He would’ve been more embarrassed if there weren’t at least five other students doing the exact same thing.

Robin stood and sighed. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she tugged at a lock of Eddie’s hair.

“You sure you’ll be able to get home okay? I bet we could sneak you past Wheeler if we tried.” The genuine concern in her voice almost melted his resolve, but he shook his head.

“Don’t worry about me, Buckley. I have enough duct tape to hold the old gal together for another few miles at least.” Her frown deepened, and he hastily added, “Besides, I don’t think Tammy likes me very much. The last time I was over I broke one of her mugs and she called me an ‘inbred hick’ or something charming like that. I still can’t believe you ever had a thing for her.”

Robin shook her head ruefully. “Alright, asshat. I’ll see you next week then. Call me when you get home so I know you lived.”

She left, barely catching the toe of her sneaker on the doorjamb and stumbling into the hall as she went. Eddie listened to her muffled curses as she tripped down the hall on the walk back to her dorm and grinned to himself.

He packed up his supplies carefully. This professional shit hadn’t been cheap, and he definitely couldn’t afford to replace his oil pencils if he ruined them. As he was stacking his canvas carefully in the back with the others, the door to the professor’s office opened and Steve stepped out, dressed now in simple blue jeans and a bright yellow sweater. He was frowning slightly and fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt, but he straightened up and his face brightened when he spotted Eddie still lingering in the classroom.

“Hey, Munson! I was hoping I could catch you before you left,” he called as he hurried to Eddie’s side. “How did your piece turn out?”

“Not bad,” Eddie smiled. “Helped that the subject was cute, you know. I do my best work when I’m staring at hot people.”

Steve threw his head back in a genuine laugh as they began the walk through campus. His strides were much longer than Eddie’s, despite their similar heights, and Eddie found himself rushing a bit to keep up.

“So, are you majoring in Art?” Steve asked, his casual tone at odds with the searching intensity in his eyes.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I am. I want to do tattoos for a living like my mom, so… art degree! College isn’t really my thing but I knew my uncle would get a real kick out of raising a college grad. I used to, you know, deal in high school, so he just about explodes with pride whenever he can tell somebody I’m a sophomore in college.” Eddie grinned ruefully at Steve. “Of course, the dealing is what made it possible to pay for these first couple of years, but there’s a mutual understanding to ignore that part of our finances.”

That drew out another laugh from Steve. Eddie felt the laugh settle somewhere in his chest, warming him from the inside despite the biting wind.

“So, what do you usually get up to after class?” Steve questioned. He was still picking at the loose threads on the ends of his sleeves like he was nervous, although he seemed perfectly comfortable walking with Eddie.

“Well, today I will be begging my uncle to come up and drive me home, probably. My van quit on me again this morning,” Eddie sighed as he scuffed his shoe along the edge of the sidewalk. He knew Wayne wouldn’t mind, but he felt horrible for interrupting his uncle’s sleep schedule because he couldn’t take care of his own vehicle.

“Damn. If only there was a cute guy around who would definitely drive you home if you asked nicely.” Steve snapped his fingers in an ‘aw shucks’ motion and sighed. “If only he had a really nice car and absolutely nothing to do tonight and is desperately trying to figure out a way to spend more time with you.”

Eddie’s heart leaped into his throat. Blush saturated his cheeks, staining them with pink, and he turned to look Steve in the eye.

“You better not be fucking with me, okay? You’re fun and I like you, so if you drive me home, it better not be the last time I see you.”

Steve gave him a long and searching look before grabbing Eddie’s hand and looping their fingers together.

“Well I, for one, am excited to see your place,” he said softly.

Eddie grinned and allowed himself to be tugged toward the parking lot a little faster than his legs could carry him.

~~~

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[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight

Chapter 19

a/n: AAAAAH only one more chapter left after this one. Let me tell you this has been such a wonderful experience. I feel more confident in my writing and my story telling I hope everyone who has read this has had a fun time escaping reality with me.

warnings: canon typical violence

word count: 5.1k

Other Chapters

He had made a complete disaster of his Inner Circle and had jeopardized all of Prythian because of the prophecy Amren had found. In his mind it had all been justified. A threat, a mole, an usurper was living amongst his beloved family, charming them, manipulating them. He knew better than to underestimate a human girl with nothing to lose. He had fallen in love with a similar renegade and it had made him love Feyre even more. But this girl… she was not his mate. She was not his subject. She was not his. She would be his destruction if he didn’t act carefully. She was wild, untethered and untested. Now, she was gone. Feyre roars at him from across their bedroom “how could you be so cruel? He is your brother and she has done nothing to any of us”. He had been trying to explain the prophecy but she rolled her eyes “you are not thinking clearly Rhysand. You have been lying to me. Hiding things from me for mother knows how long because of a supposed prophecy?” Blood roared in his ears “I have told you that I, we, will bow before no one. Let alone a rogue queen. If she’s gone we are better for it”. He catches a book Feyre throws his way “what about the rest of the courts? What about not telling me about any of this? What about the Human Lands? What about all the lives that will be lost because you refused to believe Azriel?” He had never seen her disappointment thrown his way. He felt small under her stare. She had never been so mad at her mate. So confused about all of his decisions and erratic behavior in the last months. “I’m going to call a meeting with the High Lords to warn them. I expect you to be there and cooperate” with that she walked out of the room and made a point of slamming the door. 

She wanted to throw more things at him for being so nearsighted and stupid. Rhysand had always been proud and protective of what was his but it was those instincts that made him blind. 

You shudder as you pour the freezing water over your head. Vallahan was nearly as cold as Velaris and the inn you had found did not have plumbing or the capabilities to boil buckets of water. But you had been a stowaway for days and a bath, however uncomfortable, was extremely necessary. Especially if you wanted to sneak into the courtly scene Mor certainly frequented. You had brought some money. Azriel had told you where he kept an emergency fund in the house and you had some savings from working with Jolly. If you were to find Mor tonight, you had a few things to get done before nightfall. Rinse off the last of the soap, pat yourself dry, get dressed in the change of clothes you had brought. It was a simple outfit, nothing to draw attention to you. But you cleaned up nicely. Thick locks framing your newly ephemeral face. It was still an adjustment to see yourself in the mirror. Your eyes looked like your eyes but they were brighter, glittering. The pointed ears that peeked through your hair. Your cheekbones that had shifted slightly when your body had turned fae. The scars, now faint white lines, that adorned your chest. Those were the toughest to look at. You put on a thick scarf and step out of the room for the next part in your hasty plan.

“Silver suits you, my lady” the female at the shop tells you and you really can’t disagree. The coolness of the color enhances your complexion and the reflective nature of the fabric catches the light in such a way that you look like a star incarnate. “Thank you, I’ll take it” she claps a little and says “I suspect you’ll be attending the ball tonight?” Bingo. “Yes, I was in tears this morning when my sister spilled tea on the gown I had prepared. Lucky I found this one” you step into the changing room and strip the dress off. When you emerge the shopkeeper is waiting by the till. When she tells you the total you nearly yelp. It was expensive. But it was exquisite and you needed to get in, no questions asked. So you hand her the gold coins and return to the inn as fast as possible. There was a ball. You had scouted the city the first few hours after being kicked off the ship and quickly spotted the wealthy district. It was more of a street, full of enormous mansions that lined up all the way to golden palace gates. If you had to guess, that was where Mor was staying and hopefully where the ball was. If you were wrong then… then you’d go South and find Azriel by any means necessary. 

You spent the rest of the day getting ready. Putting on cosmetics and fixing your hair until you look like a doll. You had to play your strengths, and beauty was one of them. Once the dress is on you stand in front of the mirror and make sure not one hair is out of place. It really is a gorgeous gown. You run your hands over the metallic material. Once satisfied with the outcome you put on your freshly laundered cloak and make your way out. 

The first part of the plan was finding a carriage.

 They were all over the city and your best bet to get into the palace without raising any flags. You walk towards the wealthy district and a few blocks away you see your mark. He’s a young male. Younger than any of the members of the Night Court. He looked boyish, naive, sheltered. He was dressed in a suit and he was so flustered you could see the blush burn his cheeks. A young girl stood next to him in a stunning gown. Hers was blue silk. It looked like the Northern Sea. Breathe. You had practiced as much as possible before getting caught on the ship. Breathe. You were on the street, under a crystal sky. It wasn’t anything like the Night Court. The stars stagnant. You close your eyes and feel for something to hold onto. You put your hands inside the cloak and clench your fists, feeling the pull of the atmosphere at your skin. It was still jarring. Lowering the barrier that kept you contained in your body and letting your magic flow from your pores. But the next steps were easier. A magnet. You condensed all of the humidity in the air to one heavy cloud right above your heads. Something in you said it was like turning on a faucet.  A simple swipe lets all of the water drip drop right onto the unwitting accomplices. You breathe again, returning to yourself in a gasp. “Where is the carriage?” You make a show of looking around in a panic. The front of your cloak is open, the glittering dress visible but covered from the elements. Bringing up the hood to cover your hair you let out a pitiful cry “this night is ruined”. The male was helping the female into their carriage when he heard the commotion coming from you. A sad sight. You look out of place in the dimly lit street. All dressed up with no one around. His heart clenches when he sees your face is wet and he can’t tell if it's from the rain or from tears. But you’re clearly going to the same place he is so he runs over to you “are you going to the ball?” He asks over the increasing rain “I was supposed to, but my betrothed hasn’t shown up with the carriage, if he doesn’t arrive soon my dress will be ruined” he felt bad for the abandoned lady. So he did not think twice when offering “come with us, we have plenty of room” he held out his hand for you to grab but you grabbed your skirts instead and walked beside him. Once in the carriage you breathed again, this time, to release the clouds you had taken hostage. 

When you arrived at the palace you quickly took off your cloak and made sure you were seen. You made a fuss about thanking the young male that had offered you his help and even promised him a dance once inside. You needed her to see you. Once inside the palace you went about visiting every room available to the revelers, always keeping an ear out for a familiar sultry laugh. So when you hear high heels slam on polished floors and the voice you so desperately wanted to hear say “I apologize, your grace, but my cousin has called me back for an emergency. I will be back when everything is settled…. No, he did not tell me what was the matter… Escorting me is unnecessary. I know my way around…” You want to run up and hug her. The first familiar face you’ve seen in days. But you walk a few feet behind her and the queen until she goes into the residential wing of the castle and the queen returns to the ballrooms. 

“Mor-” she whirls around and shoves you against the wall. Eyes wide in horror when she recognizes you. “What the hell are you doing here y/n?” She lets go and scans you from head to toe “we need to talk, somewhere private” nodding, she grabs your arm and walks you down winding corridors. 

“Spill it” you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I need your help getting Azriel out of Koschei’s lake” her jaw slackens and you can almost feel her heart stop at your words “is that why Rhysand called me back?” You shrug “Maybe, I don’t know” she arches a sharp brow “did something happen?” You nod “a lot has been going on while you’ve been away” Mor motions for you to go on “well, as you probably know Rhysand does not like me and this wasn’t really cause for concern until I electrocuted Eris. It turns out I have powers and they could be dangerous. So Azriel was covering for me, keeping him off my back. Then Azriel got word that Koschei was planning an invasion and when he told Rhysand he sent him to confirm the news. Azriel said that he would be back in a week, that if he wasn’t it was because something was wrong and that I should flee Velaris. He knows war is imminent and he wanted me to get out before it broke out. I stowed away on a ship that landed me here. It was a gamble to try and find you but I can’t rescue him on my own. He needs help, Mor.” She lets out a string of foul curses. Even you were offended and you had just spent days over hearing conversations between sailors. “I suppose Rhysand suspects you have powers?” A nod “Is he preparing for the invasion?” “I’m not sure, I went to him for help before I left but he didn’t say anything other than to stay out of it”. Mor curses. There wasn’t much of a decision to be made between rescuing her lifelong friend and defender and answering a call from her cousin across the sea “Ok, let’s go get Azriel”. 

Eris did not bother with pleasantries when Feyre contacted him. He was days into strategizing and meeting with the other High Lords trying to prepare for an attack they knew was imminent. “I apologize if I am crass but we have no time to waste since Rhysand neglected to inform us about Koschei” Feyre looked a mixture of embarrassed and relieved “I should be the one apologizing, Rhysand should apologize as well. But I am glad you found out and did not hesitate to mobilize”. Most of the villages had been evacuated to the westernmost parts of Velaris. The armies from each court had been warned and were ready for battle. Eris had done so much in just a few days. 

While removing  your gowns and putting on fighting leathers you ask Mor about your lover's captor. You were regretting never going to train with Cassian or Nesta or Azriel. Your little blades more of a hazard then an asset in unskilled hands. 

“So what’s the deal with Koschei? I know he’s powerful enough to curse Vassa and that he wants more power but I don’t know what to expect?

She takes a long inhale “You did not think this through at all?” You sort of had, but doing research on a boat wasn’t possible and up until a week ago Koschei was just an abstract villain from your friends' pasts. So you shrug. Mor sighs “Well, for starters he is one of three immensely powerful siblings. He is the only one that's alive though, the other two died during the war against Hybern. Let’s see… He is not from this realm, the three of them arrived here before Prythian was even a thing. He is an ancient thing. The Fae call him a death god because he feeds off life itself and I’m not sure how true this is but they say his soul is kept separate from his body and that makes him nearly impossible to kill because he keeps his soul hidden away somewhere safe. 

You couldn’t help but notice the similarities in the facts. He was from a different dimension, so were you. His soul could be detached from his body, in a way, so could yours. 

He was on a small platform in the middle of a crystal clear lake. He had been here for a week? Maybe two? He couldn’t really tell. The days had started to blend in together. He was sick. He was starving. He was a goner. It was sad to think that this would be his end. 

He was in the woods that surrounded the lake waiting to see the evidence of what his spies had told him when a snake bit through his leathers and knocked him unconscious. He woke up when two sentinels were carrying him through the woods, the large green and yellow snake warped around him. The weight of it nearly suffocated him. The males walked for hours until they arrived at a large cabin facing a lake. Azriel’s stomach twisted with knowing. When they threw up on the floor of the cabin in a heap he struggled to breathe. Then slow, steady steps paralyzed him. He couldn’t move his head to look around but from where he was on the floor he could tell that the cabin was a place of luxury and opulence. Shiny hardwood floors pressed against his temple. Intricate carved furniture cluttered the space. Large open windows allowed for a freezing breeze to flow through the space and a large stone hearth housed an angry crackling fire. His shadows told him that the male approaching had white hair and dark eyes. He struggled against his restraint. The snake crushed him a little more. 

“Finally caught the pesky shadowsinger that has been breathing down my neck all these months” a hoarse voice boomed through the room. It bounced off the walls and Azriel felt his ears bleed. “It’s rare we get new visitors along these parts, most fae know to stay away” the steps near until he was right next to Azriel, his face hovering over him. The hair was long and stringy. Eyes not just dark, but black. Void.

“You are not who I was expecting, but a lucky surprise” with a nod the snake tightens its grip until Azriel’s world goes dark again. The next time he opened his eyes he was here. Someone would throw his bread every couple of days and he would drink rain water he caught in his hands. But the last few days all of the sentinels had been sent to Prythian. Leaving him alone with Koschei and blurry creatures that swam below. The water was so clear he could see thousands of skeletons lining the bottom of the lake. If he did not figure a way out, he would be joining the underwater grave soon. 

Mor winnowed South. It was still dark out. The sun due to rise in a few short hours. You had devised a plan… of sorts. You were sitting against a tree and she stood in front of you, guarding. You close your eyes and breathe. Just like before the barriers lower and you spill into the misty night. Like a fog you roll through the forest and over the lake. You feel his presence before you visualize him. But before you know it there he is. In the middle of the lake. A heap on a platform. Wings tucked into his back, rigid with tension, ankles chained. You see the cabin. Feel immense energy. There are a million creatures in this small little lake. Insects, woodland animals, strange beings you had never seen. They were all scared, beaten and broken down. Even the worms felt pathetic in the way that only someone shoved into the wrong vessel felt pathetic. 

You return to your body and your eyes water at the image of Azriel, captured but whole. He was intact. “He’s alive, Mor”. She turns to face you and you can see relief wash over her face. “Thank the Mother, what else did you see?” 

“He’s in the middle of the lake, floating. His ankles are chained. There is a cabin where Koschei is, I felt his energy. And I think every single one of the creatures in this place is cursed to their current form” 

“So what do you want to do?” 

“I think I could move the platform towards the shore and then you can winnow him away, we can figure out how to break the chain after”. Mor nodded in agreement. “Are you going to stay here?” 

“Yes, just winnow back here and then the three of us can get away” 

She disappeared before your eyes. Eyes closed. One breath. Walls down. Weave through the forest. Spot Mor in the shadow of the large tree. Condense yourself into water. Drop in the lake. See the bones and the anchor keeping the platform in place. Gather more energy. Zap the tether. Become wind. Lead him to the shore. See Mor approach. See him stir. She held out her hand, reaching. See her grab his hand and… and nothing. He’s awake now, a horrified look on his face. Mor looks upset too. She grabs his other hand now. They remain in place. You feel their energy. You hear their conversation  “what are you doing here?” 

“Getting you out, dumbass” 

“You should leave, the shackles are probably spelled”

“I can’t leave without you” 

“You have too, he’ll know you’re here and if he traps you too then what?”

Become a cloud. Envelope your friends. Protect them from prying eyes. Harness, attract,  and grab energy. Release a bolt of lightning straight to the chain. Hear their loud curses. Muffle them with heavy rain. See him move his legs. Chains intact. Feel a call. A pull from the cabin. Return to your body. Shiver and shake, cry and wail. 

You stand on unsteady ground and walk. Reach your friends. 

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Mor steps away from Azriel as you approach him. He was here. He was real. He was cold and wet from the rain. His brows furrowed. His throat bobbed. His eyes wild. 

“Az… I’m sorry” you can’t think of anything else to say when he’s looking at you like you’re crazy.

“Get out, both of you. Leave now” you shake your head and kneel on the platform with him. You hold his hands, bringing them to your lips. Place kisses on his knuckles and whisper “you’ll be free soon”. He shakes his head “y/n, please, you have to leave. Go North remember? Please-” his voice was raw from disuse. “No one can get that iron off you, Az. I won’t leave you here to waste away” 

“What are you saying?”

“He left you here so I would see you. He’s expecting me” it's something you can feel in the air. His power mingled with yours. Calling you toward the cabin. “No- no, Mor, winnow away. Leave right now, please- I-” 

“It’s alright, you don’t have to worry” you move your hands to his face and move his hair away from his eyes. “It’s just what has to happen right now” he closes the distance between you in a desperate kiss. A kiss that said “I missed you” “I love you” “You’re insane” “Don’t leave me”. You pull away “I’ll be back Azriel, I promise I’ll find you when I’m done here”. Burning in your ribs sealed the deal. 

Wipe the tears from his cheeks. Kiss him again. Tell Mor to wait until he’s freed to winnow away. Hug her. Walk towards the cabin. See that the door is open. Go inside. Black, depthless eyes meet yours. Too white teeth in a glaring smile. White stringy hair. Smooth, poreless skin. Small, dainty nose. He looked like a doll possessed by a demon. Your skin crawls.

“I have been waiting for you, magnificent creature” 

“I’m here, let Azriel go” 

“He can go if you stay” 

“I know” 

Koschei walked toward a small table and sat in one of the two chairs. He motioned for you to sit in the other one. 

“I am pleased to host you in my home” 

“I can’t say I’m pleased at all”

“Getting you here took so much longer than expected. See, I am limited in terms of mobility and have had to delegate most tasks to power hungry brutes”  you tilt your head, questioning. 

“I suppose no one has told you that your arrival to this realm was written in the stars long ago?” You say nothing. 

“Let me explain. Most things happen by chance. But some things happen to be destined. You, my dear, are the latter.” He pushes an ancient looking script your way “The realm will bow to  the queen with no crown. The one who traveled the longest distance,through space and time. The one who brought great danger. She will be created by fate, magic, earth, wind, fire and water. A keeper of lightning. Master of storms. Calm oceans will turn tempestuous at her will. In time, all will bow to the queen with no crown.”

You read it. Again and again. 

“Understand now?” Shake your head. No. 

“The autumn lord was supposed to deliver you to me alongside Galgollem but he got himself  and the monster killed instead” Koschei said with a casual roll of his dead eyes. “My dear, you and I together possess more power than anyone else in the entire realm. I am bound to this lake. But you are as free as the wind. As strong as steel. Be my queen. My equal”. You are free. He said you are free. What good would it be if his puppet was also bound to the lake if his true motives were conquest? 

“Are you the king of anything?” low chuckle.

“I am a God of Death”

“And I am Queen of the Realm, destined by the Mother herself, according to this”. You shove the paper back towards him.  He bristles.  You feel yourself getting agitated. Close your eyes. Breathe. See Azriel and Mor still at the edge of the lake. Return. 

“Let. Azriel. Go” 

“Be my queen and he’s free”  

In that moment you knew. You understood his need for you. To align himself with who he thought was his counterpart. But he did not see that your freedom, your wildness was inherent. It was carved in your bones. He wanted to hold you captive. Send you away on his behalf. Conquer far away lands, oceans and winds. Be his hostage. Nothing more than a marionette. You feel the buzzing, no longer dormant. No longer controlled by concentration and breathing exercises. 

See his face shift from nonchalant to tense. Know your eyes are telling him he’s in trouble. Close them. See Azriel and Mor still in the lake. Open them. See his mouth moving. The drumming doesn’t let you hear a word. 

You lose it. 

He doesn’t understand your power. 

He thinks he can tame you. 

Stand from your chair, walk to him. See him lean back. Reach for his neck. Unleash yourself. Bright white fills the room. Feel Koschei sizzling and crackling in your hands. The energy too much for his vessel to bear. 

The wind is knocked from your lungs when he pushes you away. You fly through the air, smash through the glass windows and land in the lake. Your body sinks. Close your eyes. See Azriel screaming and pulling at his shackles. Mor beside him, horrified. Gather wind and force Koschei into the lake as well. He’s pushed in by a gust that blows away all of the windows. Return to your body. See him trying to swim away. Become water and pull him down. Down. Down. 

The troops are formed in an impenetrable line. His eyes in the skies warned that there were ships arriving from the East. They were as ready as they could be. The Ilirians and Peregrins were launching into the sky with fae bane arrows. The rest were waiting for them to make landfall. All of the High Lords were with their respective armies. Even Tamlin had scrounged up a few warriors from Spring, thanks to Lucien. Rhysand and Feyre were leading the charge for Night,  beside them Nesta and Cassian. Most of their Inner Circle was notably missing. Eris cursed Koschei, he cursed Rhysand and he cursed the Gods for putting him in this situation again. He hated war. Absolutely despised the bloodshed and fighting. He was very skilled in combat, he had to be as  High Lord. But he would choose verbal warfare a million times over than this. Standing in a field, alongside Death. Souls waiting to be claimed. 

They came into view now. Arrows fell from the sky. 

His soul is separate from his body. He is struggling against currents that bring him right to your arms. Hands wrap around his neck again. Creatures you can’t see biting and pulling you apart. Above you, in the sky, a black cloud forms. Azriel’s skin is raw and red around his ankles. The static in the air is palpable. Koschei is fighting you, still. His minions clawing along your skin. You know the shock angered him. Hurt him. 

In your body and out of it at the same time. In the sky and the water. You squeeze his neck feeling his airway close. All it took was one thought and the cloud unleashes everything it has on the lake. Azriel screams. Mor jumps out of the water as bolts of lightning pour from the sky. A curtain of light. You feel a comforting tingle on your skin and know your plan works as the creatures pulling at you go belly up and Koschei convulses in your grasp. His body was not made of lightning. Horrible eyes bulge, neck twists in a way it should not be able to. You call off the cloud. His body sags in your hold, deformed by pain. This is only his vessel. 

The ships are nearing. The air squad firing all the have. Eris can tell no one in that ship has fallen. In short minutes they’ll be on the shore. 

The water brings you to the surface. His limp body in your hands. The current carries you to the shore and you bring his body onto dry land. 

Azriel is pale, nauseous and lightheaded. He swears his heart has stopped and started at least a thousand times. No worse torture than seeing her in danger not being able to do anything about it. But she’s there. Right in front of him. Dragging Koschei’s body across the sand. 

You collapse. Exhausted and drained. But his soul… His essence was still somewhere.

Close your eyes. Pour into the atmosphere. Let yourself feel. The call of his soul was coming from the cabin. It was in there somewhere and you would destroy it. Rage clouding everything. Nothing but his end would make you stop.

He had never seen her eyes like that. They were misty. White light pouring out. She looked so different from the person he knew. Her humanity, her softness vanished. Hair wild and stuck to her face, neck and back. He could see fast healing wounds peeking from the gashes in her clothes. A tornado. Lady Tempest. 

Her movements were precise. She stood and turned. Walking calmly to the cabin. 

The inside was destroyed from the shattered windows and rain pouring in from the chaos outside. His foul energy was concentrated deeper in the house. 

Open a door. Walk down spiraled stairs. Gag. It was disgusting. There was an iron door. Go to open it. Flinch. Send a bolt towards it. Walk through the hole. Dark room. Small box. The vibrations from his soul make you feel ill. Open the box. A smooth white bone lays on a velvet cushion. Walk outside. 

When the ships made landfall the soldiers within them descended on the shores of Prythrian. Running at full speed towards them. Not a single casualty from the arrows. Their army whole.  Eris braces himself, adjusting his grip on his sword and shield. The small dots becoming full sized soldiers in short seconds. 

Hold the bone. Close your fist around it. Breathe. I’m so tired. Breathe again. This being, Koschei, has caused so much suffering for so many people. For people you love. He wants power. He wants war. He wants you to do his dirty work. Just like that the buzzing is back. Squeeze your fist until it hurts. See white light flash between your fingers. Open your fist. Acrid ash is now where bone used to be. Scatter it on a phantom breeze. Return to his body. Drag it to the cabin. Put it in the hearth. Set it ablaze. 

The soldiers that were nearing vanished. The ships disappeared. Eris remained tense. 

This had to be a trick. 

The sound of fire crackling brings you out of your frenzy. What did I do? How could I do all of that? You had brutalized him. Killed him in such a personal way it scared you. Sitting on the wet floor you look at anywhere but the fire. You flinch when you hear footsteps and see Azriel standing in the doorway. You stand and run to him. He wraps his arms around you fully “we should go”. You pull away and walk outside. Mor is standing there, soaked. “Are you ready?” You nod and grab her hand. She winnows to a room you’d never been. 

“Make yourselves comfortable, I’m going to grab a drink and pass out”.

a/n: I hope a lot of questions were answered!!!!!! thank you for reading loves <3

taglist: @luvmoo @leeknows-wife@nocasdatsgay@mybestfriendmademe@evylynny

[blueiscoool]

Lost and Found: Bottle Hunter Digs Extraordinary Farmland Treasures

Tom Askjem is a time traveler. Every May to November, he disappears into the bowels of the earth, descends to depths of 13’-plus, and returns to the surface with treasure—bottles and glassware from farming’s past.

After 1,800 pits and hundreds of thousands of relics, Askjem is equal parts archeologist, thrill seeker, and mole. Muscle on dirt, the North Dakota farm boy has turned an addiction into a career, multiple books, and a captivating YouTube channel with millions of views. However, Askjem seeks more than glass.

“I’m digging for adventure, history, and love,” he says. The past is in these holes and there are countless numbers of them across farmland.”

Time to hunt with a master.

The Infection

On the flats of extreme eastern North Dakota’s Traill County, Askjem, 32, prepares for a dig trip. “No mountains and no hills in the Red River Valley,” he describes. “You can see your dog run away for days. The land is mostly featureless, other than a few big cottonwoods and shelter belts where farms used to be.”

A mop of blonde hair sits atop a 6’-tall, lanky frame as Askjem saddles his pony—a Honda Civic. At the current mileage rate, the Civic will be junkyard fodder before it has a scratch: 60,000 backroad miles added to the odometer in the past six months.

Askjem piles layers of gear into the trunk, including three of each tool for insurance: shovels, pronged garden forks, trampoline pads, probe rods, buckets, plastic scoopers, trowels, tents, sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, air mattresses, clothes, and waterproof, Redwing leather work boots.

“It never gets old,” he says, wearing a wide grin. “I caught the infection when I was a kid.”

Digging Bodies

Pushed from the Grand Forks area by the historic Red River flood of 1997, Askjem moved to a farm outside Buxton at six years young. The main property was an 1878 homestead—a progression from sod house to log cabin to the present standing 1898 farmhouse decked in Victorian-era woodwork and hardware.

Surrounded by history, including the skeletons of old wagons and rusting machinery, Askjem explored a 5-acre patch of woods on the property, and chanced on a garbage dump: pop bottles and trash.

Askjem dug.

“I went deep and found stuff going back to 1898. When you’re a kid living in the country, there’s no going down the street and there’s no hanging with friends to play video games—you make your own adventure. I started hitting up all the farmers I could find for leads.”

Behind the wheel of a rattling go-cart, Askjem sought Buxton old-timers and collected tips on abandoned houses. “They all helped me,” he says. “Nobody cared where I hunted because I was just a little kid exploring for all the right reasons.”

“I’ve still got an elementary school journal with an assignment describing my weekend,” he adds. “I wrote, ‘Me and Mom dug up old bodies.’ The teacher marked my paper out of concern,” Askjem describes, with an easy, deep chuckle. “I meant to spell bottles, not bodies. But it shows I was truly hooked.”

Indeed. Wonderfully hooked.

Soft Landing

Why are bottles buried under farmland and old house sites?

Prior to plastic and synthetics, glassware held everything: medicine, hygiene products, alcohol, soda, and beyond. Glass was it.

Additionally, prior to waste disposal services, homeowners discarded trash on-site—in back yard outhouses, trash depressions, burn pits, and wells or cisterns. In short time, the various ground receptacle spots were filled and forgotten.

“Let’s say, for example, a family moved in around 1880,” Askjem explains. “That site likely has two or three outhouse locations prior to World War l. The outhouse spots filled up at a rate according to family size. I dug one farmhouse site that had six outhouses in a 10-year span. Folks went into the outhouses and threw away bottles: medicine, opiates, beer, whiskey. It was convenient and private, and had a soft landing, and got covered quickly. Even now, the bottles often are still preserved.”

“Generally, these houses also had a burn pit and/or dump pit. In the early days, they burned all trash in the stove for heat. Also, homestead bucket wells were filled up with trash and bottles once they were replaced by pump wells. Cisterns also were eventually filled up, but most of those are associated with houses in town.”

And the sites remain, he emphasizes, hiding intact relics beyond the reach of farm machinery or tillage equipment.

X Marks the Spot

Location. Location. Location. Other than a tip or invitation, how does Askjem find dig sites?

X marks the spot, at least in the county courthouse or public library. He spends winters poring over early property transaction documents. “I look at lot sales. If several lots sold for $100 each in 1880, but one sold for $1,000 in 1885, the price climb tells the story and likely represents a building location.”

“I also read old newspaper archives, looking for hotel or business advertisements,” Askjem continues. “Then I can look up the proprietor’s name and keep tightening the scope, narrowing down the exact building location.”

“Every single house is different, but generally, in the countryside, outhouses were 30 paces out the back door. In the city, where most lots were 140’ long, outhouses could be as close as 5-10 paces.”

Confident of a site’s potential, Askjem first asks for permission to dig from the landowner. “Property owners are always so kind to me and I don’t hide anything I find. They’re curious about what is in the ground, just like anybody else.”

Second, he grids out the site. “I put down markers 2 paces apart, maybe 20 paces long. I push probe rods into ground and feel for compaction differences. Depending on the location, I’ll call in and have utility lines marked out for power and gas.”

Decked in Levi’s and a tank-top, it’s time to tunnel.

Claustrophobic Comfort

Shovel in hand, Askjem descends into a layer cake of dirt: black topsoil to brown-colored clay to telltale ash to a use layer containing treasure.

“Generally, I go deep to find old items in quantity. The earliest bottles were used to the last drop by farmers and thrown out empty. Therefore, when they froze in brutal Dakota winters, the glass didn’t break from liquid expansion.”

As Askjem extracts glass vessels from the dirt and grime, his encyclopedic knowledge registers with each find. He recognizes the type, manufacturer, and age. Ink bottles, hygiene bottles, medicine bottles, beer bottles, soda bottles—and far more spill from the holes.

“I find patented medicine bottles across the country, but my favorite are soda bottles because they are unique to their locale and have character. The old soda bottles are usually marked with the bottler and town name because they were returnable.”

The outhouse pits are typically 6’-deep at home sites, with an average size of 6’-by-4’-by-3’. “I’ve dug ghost towns, dug saloons, train depots, and pool halls that were 12’ long, 4’ wide, and 8’ deep. I remember a hotel pit that was 20’-by-20’ and 8’ deep. There was a military fort with pits behind the barracks that was 12’ long, 4’ wide, and 13.5’ deep: That was a week’s worth of digging.”

Askjem’s subterranean realm provides no comfort to the claustrophobic. At 8’-9’, he braces the holes with woodwork. “I’m in a solid clay base that doesn’t cave, but I have a healthy respect for the ground’s limitation. Sometimes, it looks like I’m digging a rabbit hole.”

Preserved in nature’s freezer, the artifacts unearthed by Askjem often are in phenomenal condition.

“Pieces of newspaper can still be read; bottle labels are legible; white lime used in decomposition is visible; and undigested seeds are everywhere. Even 120-year-old human waste sometimes is perfectly preserved and still smells like hell. I wear a hydrogen sulfide respirator in those cases.”

“It’s all there; almost like it was dropped yesterday.”

Ghosts in the Ground

In 2022, Askjem began chronicling his digs via a YouTube channel, Below the Plains, and soon captured millions of views. At two posts per week, he gins footage at a steady rate to feed the algorithm, a tough task considering the ground in his geography is frozen from mid-November to mid-May.

Additionally, Askjem has written two in-depth books (Nebraska Soda Bottles 1865-1930 and A History of North Dakota Bottling Operations 1879-1930) and has more on the way. “I put the bottle prices in the books because they can sell for a whole lot and I always tell the landowners. Listing prices draw criticism, but that’s important to me because it helps preserve the item, and preservation of history is what drives me.”

Covered in dust or mud at the end of each day in digging season, Askjem is highly respectful of what he finds—almost reverent after 1,800 digs. “I appreciate everything I uncover because it represents a part of someone’s daily life and existence. There’s nothing wrong with coveting bottles, but I’m really in those holes for the moment of discovery.”

Even when not digging, Askjem is on the move, surfing on the coasts or river diving for lost cargo. In the decades to come, will he continue burrowing into the past? “Twenty years from now, I hope I’m still digging and there’s nothing I’d rather be doing right now.”

“There’s not an infinite amount of lost bottle sites, but there’s certainly an incredibly high number,” he continues. “There were 300,000 homestead farms in North Dakota with a minimum of one well, one outhouse, and one trash dump. And that doesn’t include towns where most of the population lived. There are millions of these sites in North Dakota and far more in other states.”

Respect to a freewheeling hunter like no other. Bottles draw the eye, but ghosts draw the heart: “The moment never gets old when you uncover a bottle and find that history,” Askjem adds. “Never.”

By CHRIS BENNETT.

[soireegurl]

Chapter 3

PSH x reader (feat.YJW)

Synopsis:

Your childhood friend who went through traumas and hardships finally evolved and grew into a successful and powerful man... However, something about him seems to be different...

Summary for chapter:

You had a talk with your sister but the talk didn't seem to work out well... It broke into a fight... Jungwon seems to be acting different too...

No Copyrights @soireegurl

Note🖇️: This story contains Yandere themes, Mafia themes. Mention of killing, blood, violence, vulgar languages.

After letting out your feelings in the park, you went home with a heavy heart. You don't want to face your sister and Sungmin but you have to get things clear.

"Omo, where did you go honey?"

Your mom asked you as you stepped into the house, your sister's friends have left and the house is pretty empty now.

"I just went out to take a breather... Don't worry mom..."

You said as you let out a small smile to signal that you are okay.

"Okay... I hope you're feeling better honey..."

Your mom knows your feelings for Sunghoon and she was also shocked to see Sungmin with your sister just now.

"Yes... Don't worry mom..."

"Where's eonnie?"

"Oh, she's at the backyard with Sunghoonnie..."

"Okay... I'll go find her mom..."

Your mom gave you a little pat alon the shoulder and went back to cleaning up the house.

You went to the backyard and saw your sister and Sungmin sitting on the swing while looking lovey dovey.

You can't take it ... You really can't... The sight of a guy so similar to Sunghoon, hugging your sister makes you feel so hurt.

"Oh? Y/nnie..."

Your sister saw you and Immediately stood up from the swing.

She walked towards you and stood Infront of you.

"Are you feeling better?"

You nodded a little but still the hurt feelings still lingers in your heart.

"Eonnie... Are you sure he is not Sunghoon...? They look too similar!"

"Y/n... Everything thing is possible, he might be Sunghoon's twin, since you know, Sunghoon is adopted... There's a possibility..."

You looked at Sungmin who was standing behind your sister.

You carefully scanned his face and notice the exact same moles on Sunghoon's face.

"Even if they are twins, how can they have the exact same mole? Twin's can't look exactly the same..."

"What's your point here Y/n?"

You sister started to sound annoyed.

"What if I can prove that he is Sunghoon... Will you... Will you break up with him?"

You know you sound a little rude here, but you really cannot bare seeing him and your sister together...

*Slap*

"Y/n!"

Jungwon quickly held you as you stumble back from the slap.

"Are you crazy? You just can't bare to see me happy right? You know I don't easily fall in love... And now that I finally do, you want me to give up?"

"Even if he is Park Sunghoon, I will not break up with him Y/n."

Your heart was hurting more than the slap.

"But eonnie... You know that... You know that..."

Your words got stuck at your throat.

You never told Sunghoon about your feelings... And now that he is standing infront of you, you can't bring yourself to say your feelings for him.

"Know what? Know that you like Sunghoon?"

"Like I said, he is not Sunghoon... This is a fact and final. I don't want to hear anything from you anymore. "

Your sister said and walked away living you, Jungwon and Sungmin in the backyard.

You were sobbing quietly while holding on to your cheeks where your sister slapped you.

"Mr Park, done watching the show? You may leave now."

Jungwon's tone was hostile...

"Please take care of her. "

Sungmin said and left.

[Jungwon's pov]

*Slap*

When I saw Yena(y/n's sister) slapped Y/n, I immediately went up to Y/n and held her in place so she doesn't fall from the impact.

I shot a death glare at Yena but I didn't fail to catch Park Sungmin's action.

He also wanted to come forward to help Y/n but stoped himself suddenly..

I raised my eyebrows at the sight but didn't bother much as Y/n is more important now.

I heard the conversations between Y/n and Yena.

"Know what? Know that you like Sunghoon?"

When Yena said that, my breath hitched.

I knew that Y/n had feelings for the Sunghoon guy from the way that she tells me things about him.

But she had never admit.

Now that Yena said it, I can't help but to feel hurt and betrayed.

"Why am I always not her first choice..."

I can't help but to think...

I have been beside Y/n for 7 years... Definitely more than that Park Sunghoon... But why... Why can't I ever get into her heart?

While in deep thought, I also realised the shock on Sungmin's face.

Suddenly... I thought came to my mind.

"What if... He is Park Sunghoon...?"

I started to panic... If he is really Park Sunghoon, that means Y/n will go away from me...

No... That can't happen...

I have to stop this... I need to make sure this man will not cause any threats to me...

[Author's pov]

After the unpleasant incident with your sister, you went back to your room with Jungwon.

"Y/n... Are you okay? I'll get some ice for you okay?"

Jungwon said a got up, but you held his hand and stopped him.

"It's okay... I'm okay..."

You said and you sniffled.

Jungwon's heart hurt seeing you cry.

"Y/n... See what you did to yourself..."

Jungwon let out a huge sigh.

"Y/n... Hear me out... Just forget about him... This is ruining your relationship with your sister..."

Jungwon tried to convince you.

"I want some time alone Jungwon..."

You didn't want to talk about this at this time. You really need some time to clear your mind.

Jungwon bit his inner cheeks to calm himself down.

"Okay... Rest well, I'll come again tomorrow... "

He left your room and you are all alone now.

After your room's door was shut, you let out all your emotions you have been hiding.

You covered your face with your hands as you cried.

It hurts... It really hurts...

You don't want to ruin the relationship with your sister, but at the same time, you can't stand seeing the guy you love with your sister.

Even though now you can't prove that he is Sunghoon, but in your heart, you already confirmed that he is Sunghoon and you will do anything to prove that to your sister.

[Sunghoon's pov]

After the fight, I didn't leave Yena's house immediately.

I was sitting in my car just aimlessly sitting there not knowing what to do.

"Aish... This is so annoying..."

I messed my hair in frustration.

I sat in the car for about 15 minutes while thinking about what had just happened...

"She got hit because of me..."

"It's so stupid that I can't even protect her from this small thing..."

I felt really bad and useless...

After awhile, I saw Jungwon coming out of the house. Without thinking, I immediately went out of the car and walked towards Jungwon.

"Why are you still here?"

Jungwon's tone was unfriendly, as if he didn't want me to be here.

"How is Y/n?"

"I don't think that is any of your business right?"

Jungwon raised his eyebrow and looked at me with a questioning look.

"I just want to make sure that she's okay... After all, I was the cause of it."

"If you really feel bad, then you should away from her, never appear infront of her anymore."

"What?"

"You heard that right, Mr Park... "

Jungwon said as he glared at me.

"Mr Yang... I don't think this is how you treat you client right?"

"Well, we are not in the company now... And I think Mr Park can distinguish between public and private affairs right?"

I smirked at his words and took step forward.

"Of course I can... But it's whether I want to or not."

Jungwon didn't seem to be intimidated by me, and took a step even closer.

"Well, I don't really care... All I care is that YOU, stay away from Y/n..."

"You like her don't you?"

I said and smirked after seeing Jungwon freeze on his spot upon hearing my words.

He took a step back and said.

"That's none of your concern Mr Park."

He said and tried to walk away but I continued.

"Sss... But from what I heard... She liked someone else... Seems like... You got no chance."

I purposely provoked him and successfully did.

"Shut up you bastard."

He said and grab me by my collar.

"Tsk tsk... Mr Yang... You are too violent... How would Y/n react if she sees you like this...?"

"Stop provoking me Park Sungmin... You don't know what I can do."

"I would like to see it... Mr Yang Jungwon... Or should I say, Mr J?"

I said and felt a sense of satisfaction seeing the shock look on Jungwon's face.

"How do you know me?"

"That's not important... What's important is, I know your things... So think twice before you want to act big Infront of me.."

"How would Y/n react if she knows her friend is a Mafia boss, someone who kills without even blinking his eyes? I'm worried for her safety now."

"You don't have to worry, I will never hurt her. You should be worried about yourself."

Jungwon shove me away and gave me a glare before leaving the place.

"I have to stop Y/n from getting to close to him... He is too dangerous..."

I thought to myself and got in the car and drove off.

Chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

Love is pain Masterlist

Taglist: @heeseung-min @whateverhoon @nenesz

[lilac-ravenclaw]

Let me introduce my Hogwarts Legacy MC, Raven Fawlty. I love her so much and want to share her adventures with everyone.🪻

Art Trade? Yes, please! Just please tag me with your drawing. In return I’ll draw your Hogwarts MC! 👩🏻‍🎨

Instagram | DeviantArt | ArtStation

✨ artof.ravnbee on Ko-Fi ✨ Thank you!

The Picnic 🧺 - 3k words / fluff

More to come! ✍🏽

If anyone is interested, I created a playlist inspired by Raven. I'll continue to add songs as time goes on. Hope you enjoy! 🎧 Spotify Link 🎧

General Info

Name: Raven Fawlty - { reason for her name for me } “Ravens” often represents ancient wisdom, transformation and intelligence. The name “Raven” means “dark haired or wise”. “Fawlty”… honestly this was a gimmick at first. As I love the show, Fawlty Towers with John Cleese. Ran in the mid-late 70s with only 12 episodes, and was hilarious imo. it was the first name I could think of when creating my character.

Birthday: January 29, 1874 { The Raven was published in Jan 29, 1845 }

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius

Sex/Gender: Female { she/her }

Ethnicity: Latina and English

House: Ravenclaw

Wand

Stalk: Dark Brown

Wood type: Willow

Core type: Unicorn Hair

Flexibility: Reasonably Supply

Wand Length: 12”

Handle: Checkerboard - Blue

Patronus: Black Bear

The Black Bear is known for their adaptability and resourcefulness. Others will see her as a fierce opponent who will protect herself and those close to her. Only those close to her will know of that softer side she usually keeps hidden away.

Physical Appearance

Eye color: Light Violet

Skin color: Tan/light brown, with olive undertones.

Hair: Long length and black, usually worn in a braid.

Height: 5’1” (155cm)

Weight: 110lbs (49kg)

Body type: Hourglass and petite

Birthmarks: small mole on the face, left cheek

Fashion style: Loves wearing a comfortable trouser, but will still wear a button up blouse and a skirt. Doesn’t care for the traditional school robe, but favors a nice blazer/jacket when needed.

Accessories: Pierced ears for small earrings, (wears a pair of snake gold snake earrings Sebastian gave to her as a birthday gift).

History

Place of birth: Somewhere in the UK

Childhood: Grew up in orphanage in London. Doesn’t know who her parents are, or her real name. She has a love for literature and took the name “Raven” after Edgar Allen Poe’s poem, The Raven. The orphanage she resided in was very strict and had a harsh living environment. The caretaker was mean to the children, much like a Miss Hannigan from the show Annie. So much so, that is how Raven acquired her last name “Fawlty”. A homonym for “faulty”, meaning of faults, inadequate, or wrong. (Which is also why the show, Fawlty Towers, got its name too.) Unknowingly to be a future Ravenclaw, took the insult of a name as a challenge to succeed and learn all she could and be the best version of herself.

Family history: Her father originally from South America and went to Castelobruxo, a wizarding school in Brazil. Being from the heart of the Amazon rain forest, he had a profound love for magical creatures. Which is where Raven gets her love for magical creatures as well. He had traveled all over the world and eventually made his way to Europe where he met Raven’s mother, was also traveling abroad as well. She had also attending Hogwarts in her youth, being a former Ravenclaw too. She loved astronomy, and music literature (her mother, Raven's grandmother, was a music instructor). It is unknown what happened to her parents in their untimely death, and how Raven ended up at the orphanage. **Keep in mind, Raven herself doesn’t know this. I just wanted to write this down to know where she gets her personality and interests come from ☺️**

Notable events/milestones: Raven always knew somehow.. she was different. Though, according to the wizarding world’s standards, it took a little longer for her powers to emerge. Even small things would happen here and there, without her realizing what had happen and that she was the cause of such strange occurrences. Until one day when the orphan keeper (the person who runs the orphanage) was “disciplining” one of the children and Raven stepped in to protect them and that enough was enough. She had forced a large shelf to fall over onto the orphan keeper… it was as if what she was thinking became a reality. Afraid of what would happen, Raven ran away, seeking shelter where she could. As Professor Fig was assigned the task of giving Raven her letter and bringing her to Hogwarts, it still took no time at all for Professor Fig to find Raven even though she was missing from the orphanage. She was hesitant at first but overall wasn’t scared at all, and actually was relieved to know there were others like her. A whole world like her just waiting to be apart of and that was the happiest day in her life.

Other notes: She had studied with Professor Fig for the duration of the summer before starting at Hogwarts. Having only gained her powers after the school year had finished. He had become the first father figure to Raven.

Psychological Traits

Personality type: INFP (Mediator) is a personality type with the introverted, intuitive, feeling and prospecting traits. These rare personality types tend to be quiet, open-minded, and imaginative, and they apply a caring and creative approach to everything they do.

Personality traits: intelligent, witty, adventurous, warm, courageous, emotionally intuitive, and quick-thinker.

Introvert/Extrovert: Sometimes both. Loves to be around her close friends, but doesn’t mind spending time alone reading a good book or flying on her broom.

Hobbies: Star-gazing, tending to the magical beasts in the Vivarium, reading, and singing. Doesn’t audition for the school choir til her 6th year. She doesn’t tell anyone except Poppy if she should try out, as Raven was 100% nervous about it and never sang in front of people.

Loves: Flying on her broom and singing in the choir.

Morals/Virtues: Values being compassionate and always being there for her friends/loved ones at a moment’s notice. Tries to do right by them and stand by their side when times are tough. She knows what it feels like to be alone in certain situations and doesn’t want her friends to go through the same thing.

Phobias/Fears: Being trapped in a “cage” and being forgotten.

Relationships

Love Interest: Sebastian Sallow… From the very beginning she felt like there was some sort of connection, but was a bit too oblivious to see it at first. He’s very charming and almost flirtatious with other girls, so figured she wasn’t any different. Sometimes she will catch him sneaking a glance in her direction during class, while studying in the Library or at mealtimes in the Great Hall. It was so easy to stand by him and help him find a cure for his sister without even a second thought. It may have been foolish, but Raven knows what it’s like to have no support when at your lowest. To feel like all hope is lost. She can understand losing your parents at a young age.

Parents: Deceased, Names Unknown

Grandparents: Unknown, Names Unknown

Best friends: Poppy Sweeting and Natsai Onai

Friends: Ominis Gaunt, Garreth Weasley, Amit Thakker, and Imelda Reyes

Rivals: Leander Prewett, not in a bad way. It's mostly a friendly competition when playing Summoner's Court.

Enemies: Peeves the Poltergeist, damn him for catching them in the Library!

Clubs: Crossed Wands, Summoner’s Court, and Hogwart's Glee Club ( was super hesitant in trying out for the school's choir, but her best friend Poppy gave her the confidence she needed to try out).

If you’ve made it this far then thank you so much for reading. Hope you enjoyed learning about my MC✨

[eliothedud9000]

this is a thing i wrote for school. cw death and sad themes

the bolded date is the title, not when this takes place. yes the date has symbolism in the numbers

December 16th, 1997 

He’s sitting on an ornate wooden chair. I am across from him. 

From every angle, he is, undeniably, me.

He has the same brown hair, dry and tangled. He has the same tattoo on his forearm, the small star blurring at the edges. The same mole right below his left eye, the same crooked smile, the same shy green eyes. 

I look at the rug underneath us. It’s the one Mom had in her house when we were younger. I loved that rug, I always played on it.

There’s a puddle in the center of it. The murky water moves towards my feet.

“Mind the water,” He says, “It has a bad habit of clinging.”

I put my feet up and sit criss-cross. I am wearing pink ankle socks, the same as his.

“What time is it?” I ask.

The lamp between us dims ever so slightly. I remember this lamp. It was the first thing I bought for my dorm when I went to college.

“Late enough,” He replies, “You can sleep now.”

“I’m not tired.” I pick at my nails, avoiding his gaze.

He shifts in his chair, moving his feet away from the spreading puddle. 

“Okay then. We can wait.” 

“Really?” I ask warily.

The lamp flickers. The puddle licks the bottom of the chairs.

“Yeah. We’re in no rush.” He smoothes down his T-shirt. It’s the same one I’m wearing, the one we got at the concert a few summers ago. 

We sit in comfortable silence for a bit, listening to the gentle lapping of the water against the chairs. It stops increasing at about ankle height. 

“What’s your greatest fear?” I ask breaking the quiet.

“Same as yours.”

“Well then, what is it?” 

He thinks for a moment, brow furrowed.

“I think… rejection.” He responds solemnly. 

“Why?” I ask. I know the answer.

“From the people who left us. No one ever liked us.” The lamp flickers and dims slightly.

I feel pressure on my lungs. “That’s not true,” I murmur. A drop of water lands on my nose, dripping onto my lip. I wipe it off.

“Isn’t it?” He asks.

“I don’t like your answers.” I cross my arms. 

“They’re your answers though, remember?” He sits up straighter and pushes back a strand of loose hair.

Some small weeds have grown in the murky water underneath us. Little fish dart around them, weaving through the thin grass. 

The lamp dims more. His face is barely illuminated.

“What happens when the light goes out?” I ask. Something drips down my cheek. Is it a tear or water?

“We’ll find out soon enough.” His voice is muffled.

I inhale sharply and cough, wet and hard. Water dribbles down my chin.

“I’m scared,” I whisper. The air smells like the lavender oil I spray on my pillow every night to help me sleep.

“I know.” He replies quietly.

The puddle is still.

“Do you?” I ask.

“I’m you. I know everything about you. About us. We live in the middle of nowhere. We sing in public like no one is watching because– no one is. We’ve slept with a stuffed animal every night of our life, just so we don’t have to be alone. We cry in public bathrooms when a friend interrupts us. We’ll change every aspect of ourselves for an ounce of praise.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. 

“We are lonely, incoherent, and desperate. We have never been enough.”

“Stop.” I bury my face in my hands.

“What good would that do? The light will still turn off. Why can’t we reflect?”

“Because it hurts.” Something green and slimy is wrapped around my forearm. I don’t look down.

“Without pain, you can’t appreciate the good moments.”

He slowly places his feet in the water underneath the chair. His pink socks darken in color.

“You need to let go.” He looks me in the eye, holding out a hand. 

I grip the chair tightly.

“I’m not ready for the dark,” I reply.

“Neither am I, but we can go together.”

Another droplet of water lands on my face. This one is tinted red.

“Okay.” 

I slide my feet into the murky puddle, shivering slightly from the cold liquid. The pressure on my lungs increases. 

I stand up and meet him in between the chairs. He grips my hand tightly. Finally, someone who won’t let go.

“I love you,” I say quietly.

“No, you don’t.” He smiles, not reaching his eyes.  

The lamp flickers once more, dangerously dim. Then we are plunged into darkness. I still feel his cold hand in mine. 

I hold my hand until there’s no hand left.

The water ripples.

A small fish nibbles a lakeweed.

The moon casts a pale beam on the surface.

Wails of red and blue break the spell.

A young man is pulled from the muck by grim reapers in dark coats and surgical gloves. 

A star hides on his forearm, blanketed by seaweed.

Boots discarded on the lakeside, pink socks covered in mud.