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#im excited for both options though
sharksandjays · 8 months
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yall im 6 followers away from 300 and I just wanted to ask (my anxiety got the better of me i wasnt originally gonna ask but before i want to work on it i wanted to make sure)
for my 300 followers i was thinking about doing a creative challenge, one that would be open for both artists and writers so I can reach more people and make it a bit more unique. I know this isnt as common as a DTIYS though so i was wondering if anyone would be willing to actually participate in it or if a DTIYS would be better (The theme is a surprise but know it will be jay related)
part of both ideas would require me to do a peice anyways, and the peice would be the same for both, but im just wondering which one you guys would have more fun with. Thank you!!!
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zeb-z · 8 months
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I would kill a man to get Foolish a seat at the Ordem Paranormal: Quarentena table to be perfectly clear
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anxiously-awaiting · 2 months
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thinks about the double entendre in tristan's bio ("one day, Tristan fell in love with a woman named Iseult. No, he was made to fall in love.") and then starts chewing my hands off
#in the official english bio it's ''he accidentally fell in love'' but NOOO it makes it sound much more passive and muted i'm not the biggest#fan of it fkjlds#like made to fall in love is so. like there's the reading of forcefulness like he was MADE to fall in love he wasn't allowed another option#but also a sort of all-encompassing nature to it like almost overwhelming#i was MADE to fall in love my only reason for being born was to love you ect ect and those both combined makes me AAAAAAAAA#like my vers. of tristan and isolde and like most versions ive seen are very consensual re: the love potion stuff#but ouuuu tristannnn fate grand order...#hell there probably didnt even need to be a love potion involved for this guy bc i think genuinely if he was given even a modicum of#genuine affection from isolde of ireland he would cling and obsess over it so strongly BECAUSE hes propped up as this child of sadness#this person who looks so pretty but oh so sorrowful and sings such beautiful poems filled with grief that it ended up feeding into a self#destructive cycle of very very rarely allowing himself to be anything more than that yknow#so when he's given a promise of affection and a love potion what else could he have done?#hes everything to me <33333333333333333#hes everything and he keeps becoming a bit character about fucking married women EVEN THOUGH. TECHNICALLY. HE FELL IN LOVE WHILE SHE WAS#BEING TAKEN TO MARK SO SHE WASN'T EVEN MARRIED YET#im so excited to see whats goin on with him in lb6 though <3 riot win for them using his old english name
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leclsrc · 1 year
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do you want it? ✴︎ cs55
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genre: summer love!!!, slight age gap, porn w plot basically...
word count: 10.5k  
Whatever preconceived notions you have about your summer at the beach house are all toppled over when your parents announce the arrival of a guest, who happens to be your dad's friend. title from this
auds here… hiii :) req'd by several people! few notes... carlos is aged up a tad, the age gap is 21/33 so not too bad (i aged him up bc the age gap was 7 yrs and i was like. Huh. thats tame). if ur not into that (tho everything is consensual and reader is legal) its ok! anyway im sorry this came so late i had like 6 anons asking ab carlos and lana haha. also big thanks to dani whose work got me thru 4 writing ruts
nsfw warnings under the cut!
18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral sex (m and f receiving), deepthroating, semi public sex ish?, praise central, size kink, like a flash of spit kink sorry..., overuse of the term good girl
Half past noon and after a particularly snappy call from his manager, Carlos bites the bullet on summer plans and decides to accept what is arguably the least glamorous offer on his roster. By no means a dazzling standout, the offer to stay at a family friend’s house in Comporta seems to be the most comfortable option—besides, he doesn’t feel himself to be in the glitzy mood for cities like Los Angeles or Monaco.
Lando, beside him, is thus the first to get wind of the news that “grumpy old man” Carlos will not be accompanying him to the ultimate, tequila-flavored “summer extravaganza” in Morocco.
“You’re boring,” Lando moans, pacing the room. Outside, London’s skyline moves passively. Carlos hangs up his phone call with his assistant, receives a picture of his flight details, and looks up amusedly.
“Portugal is not boring.”
“Morocco. DJs, drinks, girls.” Lando raises one hand. “Comporta. Family friends, apple cider, sand in your eyes.” He raises another hand a few inches lower. “See the difference?”
“I appreciate the difference.” Truth is, Carlos has needed this kind of quiet, calm time off for a while now. The season gets heavy and intense and tiring, and sometimes just staying by the beach with a beer is the best kind of reprieve.
“You’re getting old,” Lando says with a sour grimace. “Old.”
“That is,” Carlos says, searching for the word, “defamation.”
Lando shrugs, moves off the subject as he shoves a handful of crisps into his mouth. “Are you meeting family there?”
“No.” Both of his parents are out of the country for the next few weeks; Carlos was invited by his dad’s friend, though the bond they share is more friendly than just the standard uncle-nephew type of relationship, and they often refer to each other as just friends. “Just friends. Gallery owner and a company owner, I think.”
Lando whistles. “Rich.”
In response, Carlos nods. “And their daughter, who’s visiting from university in the States.” The details are fuzzy in his head, but the gist is about right.
“Sounds boring,” his friend snorts. “Come on, mate. You, me, Daniel. One last chance to watch Peggy Gou’s set and take shots and have fuuun.” He says the last part with the suave that would only rival a preteen’s.
Carlos, for a second, lets his resolve waver. Maybe it would be better watching loud DJ sets, dancing, getting all flushed with alcohol. But he blinks and shakes his head anyway. He hopes his decision is the right one, that summer in the beach house ends up being worth it. It’s a few weeks by the beach, anyway—what’s the worst that could happen?
Any recollection of your childhood almost instantly connects to the beach house in Comporta, big and wide and right by the coast. You spent fall, winter, and spring in a constant bumbling state of excitement to spend summer there. Your parents owned it, and often offered family friends to take up residence there when summers in the city got unbearable; for the most part, though, it was the three of you and, on rare years, a guest.
Your summers there have since smudged into the same few memories, of your mum and dad’s faces, of swimming and the learning curve of sailing, of bonfires by the beach on cold nights. And they have since become just that: memories. Summers grew sparse with time, and eventually the idea of meeting distant family friends became more embarrassing than exciting; by the time your parents moved you out of Europe for college, you’d lost almost all memory of the house.
So when your parents ask if you want to fly back to Comporta and spend a few “quiet” weeks there, you figure there’s no harm in seeing what the house is like and what summer can offer you beyond the weekly club outings. Instead of the usual quiet and overall lack-of-bustle that comes with summers, however, you open the front door to three housekeepers dusting every surface in your immediate eyesight.
“Are we hosting a wedding?” You ask when you find your parents tending to two sweaty glasses of champagne. You gesture faintly to the cleanfest inside. “What is going on?”
“We have a guest,” your mother says as she gets up to hug you tight. “Staying for the summer.”
“You said this summer would be quiet,” you deadpan, eyes narrowing underneath your sunglasses.
Your mum pinches your elbow. “I wasn’t lying,” she defends, raising her eyebrows. “Carlos’ son is coming.” She pats your arm. “You know? The race driver! He’s close with your father.” And, leaving no space for you to voice your dissent, she slips back into the house through the screen door, your father kissing your cheek then following suit. Your mouth parts, thoughts beginning to rush with implications of what your mother has just told you.
Carlos—if you’re correct—is Carlos Sainz, Sr., a good friend of your dad’s, and his son is Carlos Sainz, Jr., another good friend of your dad’s, because if there’s one thing rich Europeans do well, it’s the repetition of names. You’ve never met his son, only heard of him and seen a few pictures, but being so far detached from life here, you can’t even shape his face.
All you recall is the fact that he should now be thirty or older, which makes him rather older than you—and therefore effectively incapable of providing any break from any possible summer boredom. For fuck’s sake, he’s close to your dad. You’re at the top of the stairs when you hear the commotion by the front door, peeking at the foyer to catch a glimpse of him.
He’s solo, you observe; upon a glance into the front parking, you notice he’s driven here in a Ferrari, one a bit too modern for your taste but beautiful nevertheless. He carries only two pieces of luggage, and the sun blinds you for a moment before he’s finally at the doorframe, smiling politely, talking to your dad in casual Spanish.
He is, for lack of better word, insanely handsome. He wears a polo that shows off much of his arms, that flex as he puts down his luggage to shake hands with your parents; you follow the movement of his hands to watch one comb through his thick hair, then down to his smile, back up to his brown eyes, deep and so, so pretty.
Maybe this summer deserves a little less begrudge, you decide as you retreat back into your room, still brewing with residual annoyance.
Your parents send him off after a drink and a brief conversation, catch-up, tour of the downstairs area. Carlos knows his room is supposed to be upstairs, but the problem arises in the fact that there are two upstairs rooms and he doesn’t know which one he’s supposed to be staying in. Setting his luggage down for a minute, he knocks on the first door; permissive silence greets him for half a minute, so he turns the knob and prepares to enter.
To his surprise, he finds somebody already inside, a figure by the mirror on the other end of the room. What catches his eye is not the tiny skirt, but the half-tied bikini top currently being wound around two fingers at the centre of your back. You’re basically clothed, but Carlos can’t decide if he’s thankful or not—he doesn’t have time to when you catch him in the mirror and turn around quick, mouth agape.
“Can’t you knock?!” You ask, catty.
“I did—I knocked, but you—there was no answer,” he explains profusely. “I’m Carlos. Sorry, apologies. Truly.”
You introduce yourself. You’re his friend’s daughter, this and that, and you’re visiting from the States to spend summer here. He apologizes again when you finish. 
“Well, seeing as though this is my room,” you shoot back, “that must be yours.” You gesture vaguely to the one down the hall. Amused and a little embarrassed, he mouths apologies as he closes the door.
Carlos exits, departs and doesn’t have time to take in the room before he’s facedown on the bed. Any sleepiness he’d collected from the trip over, from the day drinks, from the headache that’d been blooming at the temples of his head, has dissipated. His mind’s been imprinted with one image only, and it’s down the hall in a tiny skirt.
Lunch brings lemonade and pasta, two staples for every summer meal. You, however, find yourself hopelessly distracted by the presence of your guest, and despite your best efforts, the churn in your stomach disables you from fully enjoying the carbonara on the table. The conversation between Carlos and your dad ends up taking your attention instead. “So you’re racing again in a few weeks?”
“Sí,” Carlos nods in-between forkfuls. Then, to add, “Busy, busy times.”
“Well. It’s the worst of our days,” your mum says, a quote she picked up from—of all places—a BBC sitcom she watched to tears last winter. “You are a talented driver, Carlos. Very cultured. I’m sure you’ll enjoy Comporta.”
“I have not been around much,” he says; his gaze flutters over to his glass, which is devoid of water or lemonade. “Any recommendations?”
“A lot, cabrón. Our daughter will be happy to take you around,” your father says on your behalf. He turns to you. “Wouldn’t you?”
“Oh, sure,” you say, allowing a terse smile. “There’s some places around here that aren’t so boring. But that’s being generous.” Carlos laughs at your joke, raucous and goofy, and you would definitely be lying if you told yourself it didn’t get you blushing a little bit, eyes casting themselves to your still-full plate.
“While you’re here, Carlos,” your dad continues, “I have an old car in the garage that could use some looking at. Are you—would you know how to—?”
Carlos nods, accepting the favor—then the conversation naturally slides into one of cars and racing. Carlos chronicles his journey in Formula One, his Toro Rosso days back then when he was younger, his McLaren period, and now, his time representing Ferrari. He talks of pet peeves on the grid, annoyances but also praises for the sport.
“I’d appreciate the downtime, actually,” he explains, “that I’d get from working on a car instead of in one.” He laughs, eyes briefly meeting yours. He looks away, then looks again. He can’t help himself. He wonders if he’s being obvious, if you can tell the way his looks are anything but casual. “Can you pour me a glass?” He adds.
“Yeah,” you mutter, sitting straight to pour lemonade into his waiting glass. You meet his eyes and almost pour it over the pasta. The rest of the lunch is uneventful, a series of adult conversation you can’t seem to engage yourself in fully, and whether that’s because of personal preference or Carlos’ presence, you don’t make an effort to try.
“…ney. Honey.” Your mum’s voice distracts you from your thoughts; when you look up, half the table is clear and Carlos and your dad have ventured inside to deposit plates at the sink. 
“Sorry. Wh—sorry, what?” You blink.
“Your father and I are heading out for the evening. Carlos will be working on the car. That okay, or you want to come along?”
“Um…” You pretend the latter is even an option before shaking your head. “No, I’ll stay.”
“Good.” She strokes your hair. “He could use the company.”
You follow her walking figure inside, where you station your eyes on Carlos. He’s sipping a lemonade. His eyes meet yours for a second and your face is outrageously flushed when you realize you’ve been caught staring, just like his had been earlier when he walked into your room.
You’re hellbent on solving a Sudoku puzzle when the dinner bell rings, and you have to finish it on the stairs. Your dad’s always been a stickler for arriving to dinner on time—every meal, but a gargantuan emphasis on the last—and you’ve been victim to scoldings about being five to six minutes late, an instance you don't wish to repeat.
9, you scribble, bare feet moving with speed through the living room, indoor dining room, then to the patio door. 4 comes next, your footsteps following the smell of grilled meat. 8, you write as you turn into the outdoor dining area. You’re halfway through 2 when you stop, look up, and find Carlos preparing dinner.
“Oh—” You pause. “You rang the dinner bell? Are my parents not…?”
“They are at a dinner,” says Carlos, eyes meeting yours briefly. It reminds you of earlier and you clear your throat, looking away. “So I hope my cooking is good enough.”
“It smells great,” you offer, seating yourself down and pouring a glass of wine. He sets the plate down—just-cut steak, a smear of potatoes. “Christ, you cook better than Dad.”
“I take that as a compliment,” he laughs, sitting across you. “Listen, I want to apologize for accidentally walking into your room earlier.”
Your face warms. “No, it’s okay. I was just surprised.”
“It was wrong of me. Let’s start over. I’m Carlos.” He reaches over to shake your hand, still standing. You take it, eyes flitting over his hand, spotting no glinting ring on his finger. With a saccharine smile, you assure him it was an honest mistake, so he segues into a different topic, the corners of his mouth turning up. “So, do you have an itinerary for me tomorrow?”
You hum, passing the wine over to him. “A bookstore, an ice cream parlor, and a bike ride. Anything else is seriously not worth it. You’ll have the next few weeks to explore town. If the house gets that boring.”
“I haven’t been bored so far,” he says, eyes glinting.
“Oh?”
“You know, with the car fixing.” He points vaguely to where the garage is. “But it’s only been a day.”
“Car fixing is boring,” you state matter-of-factly. “You’ll have fun tomorrow.” You cut into the steak and bite into the forkful you stab at, eyes fluttering.
“Good?” Carlos asks, smiling a little.
“I love it,” you mumble. “You’re so good at this, Carlos.”
Carlos retires to his room that night, and finds that today has held a collective motif of losing his shit. He’s anything but sleepy. Restless, wild-eyed, combing hand after hand through his hair. God, if he’d known you were this pretty—this hard to resist, on his first night here, no less—he would’ve been watching some DJ spin out a set with Lando right now.
Instead, he finds he can’t stop himself from thinking about you, the way your eyes had fluttered when he tried saying something on the edge of flirty. Your hair. Your hands, your fingers, lithe around the stem of your wine glass.
I love it, you’d said, you’re so good at this, Carlos. You knew exactly what you were doing, skittish tone putting him on edge. Despite himself, he can’t help but squeeze himself through his pants when he sits down on the edge of the bed, breathing heavy to purge himself of thoughts so low and dirty.
You’re so pretty. You’d be so easy to wreck, make his, goad little moans out of you, get your lips around him, puffy and pink and pretty. He wedges his eyes shut tight and hopes these thoughts will dissipate as the week passes.
Something tells him he’s wrong, though.
The tour is delayed because your dad insists he go fishing with Carlos three days in a row, but eventually (likely due to your mum’s insistence) it pushes through. You greet him with a smile, waiting by the door, wearing a sundress. Sundresses will definitely be his demise.
You’re a good tour guide, though, Carlos figures when you’re finished pointing at every turn and sign and dictating what goes where and where the passage to the coast is, when you’ve even quizzed him about where you are and where the house is supposed to be.
After he points in the correct direction, you nod approvingly. “That’s how my dad made sure I wouldn’t get lost,” you explain when he laughs at your choice of tour guidance. 
“And you were what—twelve?” He asks, walking beside you. It’s fairly empty in town, a few tourists mulling about carrying shopping bags and plastic cups of juice.
“Try fourteen,” you argue. 
“Well, quizzing a, uh—a fourteen-year-old is really not the same as quizzing a grown adult.”
“Ha. Call me when you can’t find your way home tonight,” you diss sarcastically, making a turn toward the bookstore down the street. “Okay, here we are. Don’t get too excited. They’re just books.”
For a relatively empty town, the bookstore always has new batches of titles, displayed proudly for natives and tourists alike front and centre. But you’re already going to the right side of the store, busying yourself with looking at the signs. 
“The classics shelf is always my favorite,” you say, already walking ahead of him. Your dress bobs softly with your legs as you pace, short and sweet and white. You turn and his eyes slide back up instantly, and he hopes he was quick enough. “Do you have any authors you like?”
“I am not a big reader. You?”
“Huge,” you say, smiling a little. “Okay, we can browse. Are you into any genre…?”
Carlos proceeds to tell you his track record in the literary field includes: reading half the Harry Potter series, a car manual, and a few other titles in Spanish he cannot recall the name or plot of. But, he adds, he’s always wanted to read, found the activity so quiet and still and perfect, so he allows you to lead him through the titles stacked on each table and condensed on each shelf. He points at, sometimes, or picks up covers he finds appealing.
“How about—?” He reaches for a pink cover that reads It Ends With Us, but your hand loops around his wrist before he can pick it up and you’re pulling him into another aisle.
“…Not that.” You continue perusing the books around you, your hand still wrapped around his. With your free finger, you point at the top shelf, and tiptoe against the bookcase to try and get it. You come close, but not close enough.
Carlos, behind you, is successful, not even needing to tiptoe to reach for the red hardbound you’d been pointing at. It also means he’s pressed up against you, heavy and big, and the sensation dizzies you. When he finally pulls it off, you turn to him and find respite in the proximity—you two are so close, every exhale out of your lips causes a puff of air to blow against his hair.
He steps backward. You smile and gesture toward the book he’s holding. “That’s a good one.”
“Gabriel Garcia Marquez.” He reads out the author’s name in one fluid sentence, his Spanish accent becoming naturally more obvious.
“Okay, colonizer.” He knits his brows. “Trust me,” you insist. “One Hundred Years of Solitude—so good. It was one of the first books I read front to back twice in a row.”
“Wow, what an honor,” he teases sarcastically as you move along the aisle, fingertips brushing against the indents of the books. You turn to narrow your eyes and stick your tongue out. Unfortunately for Carlos, the effect this inflicts upon him is not oh she mocked me, but oh how would it look if—
He needs ice cream. Or to just get out of this aisle.
You punctuate the day with two cones of it, melting way too fast in the heat of summer. He’s already half-finished with his vanilla, and you’re taking your time with the lemon sorbet you’d gotten for yourself. Apparently, this is the only other highlight the town has to offer, and judging by the fact that most of the other stores are expensive clothes, souvenir shops, and a Bible bookstore—yeah.
Carlos is also more than sated with the three books in the paper bag he’s holding. Scratch that—six books, you bought a haul for yourself—but it’s not a particularly heavy load, so he’s fine. His phone has been buzzing with Lando’s update requests that he’s been deliberately ignoring.
“They make the best ice cream,” you rave, smiling. You lick over the melt on your lips. “Right?”
He might actually drop his cone now. “It is delicious.”
“Well…” You look around, your hair flying with every turn of your head. Lick over lips again. Again, and again. He has to look away.
“…Do you wanna stop by anywhere else?” You turn to him and ask, licking over the tip of your ice cream cone.
It’s hard for Carlos to pretend he’s looking around your surroundings, at the signs and storefronts, and not at your sticky lips, your pink tongue just peeking out to lap at the quickly melting gelato around your hand. His eyes flit downward, to where the hem of your tiny white dress has flown up in the coastal wind, exposing more of your thighs.
“Carlos?” You repeat, voice sweet and waiting.
He snaps his eyes back up and wills his voice to remain passive. “We can head back.”
So you do, meaning your tour ends around noon, and your parents greet you both with lunch and the round of inevitable questions. Did Comporta live up to your expectations? What books did you get? Was our daughter a good tour guide? The latter, Carlos answers with a smile—very good. You allowed your face to flush, blamed it on the sangria.
Now, though, it’s the brink in-between chilly and hot, sticky traces of the summer afternoon still lingering in the air, mixing with the cool of dusk when you decide to exit your room and fix yourself a glass of something, preferably sweet and alcoholic. An empty driveway save for a Ferrari means your parents are gone, leaving you and—if you’re lucky, which you hope you are—
“Carlos,” you call out from the window you’ve just tugged open with the expertise of somebody who’s lived here for twenty-one summers. “Thirsty?”
He looks up from where he is, outside, continuing his operation on your dad’s car. The hood’s been cranked open, and his long hair is damp with sweat, flying gently in the face of the sunset breeze. He smiles when he sees your figure peeking out.
“For what?”
“Whatever you want,” you respond, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. His white shirt’s stained with oil and dirt, tainting it beige and grey, the tight fit even tighter from his sweat. You can make out the outline of his abs just underneath. 
He squints. “Beer?”
You make an exaggerated eugh face to tease him, but duck back inside to bring your homemade aperol and an open, frosty beer outside. When he sees you, he walks closer, smiles and takes a swig of the drink you offer. He makes a noise of satisfaction and you have to make a real effort to maintain a semblance of normalcy, eyes averting from his lips to gaze instead at his solid shoulders, his build, big and tall.
“What’s the problem with beer, hmm?”
“Tastes like shit.” You raise your aperol. “The sweeter, the better. How’s Dad’s car?” You blink, sidestepping him to try and gauge his progress.
“Casi termino.” You look at him, raising your eyebrows, and he translates. “Almost done. It wasn’t that destroyed, if at all.”
“You think he’ll let you drive it when you’re done?” You ask playfully, swiping your condensation-wet finger over the side of the car. You turn, smiling expectantly; Carlos laughs a bit, shrugs.
“It is just a favor. But if he does, I’ll make sure you get to come along.” He says. “You like that?”
“Mmm,” you nod, sipping on your aperol. You part from your straw, lips stained, and smile up at him. “I do.”
His gaze is stuck on your lips. You lick over them, and he looks away with a slow blink. You watch as he ruffles his hair, rounds the car and crosses his arms to view it from the back.
God, he’s handsome. You think of the long-winded nights you’ve been spending trailing your fingers over your legs or texting inspired paragraphs to friends back in university about him. Their responses are almost always Send pic now and a cacophony of heart eye emojis when you manage to snag a stolen shot of him doing just about anything.
His gaze is scrutinizing, every little detail of the car, and eventually he closes the hood again. “Should be good by tomorrow.”
“Where’d you learn to fix cars?” You ask sweetly, nearing him. The wind bites at your legs, your flowy skirt bouncing sporadically and held down by your free hand. When your eyes flit to his, waiting for his response, you find them snapping upward. He’d been distracted.
“I work with cars, so it comes natural.” You lean on the hood of the car and he comes to stand in front of you, his eyes pointed downward at you. “That’s not a very good habit,” he adds.
“Drinking?” You pout, raising your half-empty glass. You blink up at him, the corner of your smiling lip caught in your teeth.
“Biting your lip.” His gaze is intense. “You do it a lot, I noticed.”
You smile, leaning backward a little. His resolve is breaking. “Can I borrow one of the books you got earlier?”
“The three ones you bought not enough?” He raises a brow, downing beer again. Some of it dribbles out of the corner of his lip. You’ve never been one to like the taste, but you’d lick it off him if you could.
“I just wanna browse it,” you push. “I’ll return it tomorrow.”
“Fine,” he relents. “I’ll give it to you tomorrow.”
He sees you the next day after lunch, which you’d skipped because you “weren’t hungry.” You’re wearing a dress, hair clipped into a bun when you excuse yourself to pick up an earring in front of him. He almost thinks it’s a fib until he sees it, the pink gem on the floor.
“Sorry,” you say, voice mellow, and then you’re bending over to pick it up. You’re wearing pretty lace panties underneath.
Carlos clears his throat and excuses himself, adjusting his shorts as he goes upstairs.
He gives you Norweigan Wood after dinner, like he promised earlier in the week. Two raps on your door, and when you open it, he’s already handing it to you with a quiet smile. “Goodnight,” he says, his voice clipped.
“Our tour isn’t over yet,” you tease, tossing the book onto your bed and descending the steps back downstairs. Confused and interested, he follows you, to the back area of the house, past the swinging screen door, down the steps, and onto the sand.
“Tour?” He repeats, for clarification. The only things to tour are sand and twigs.
“Yeah, Carlos. This is the real tour,” you joke, walking backwards. Every step sends your foot sinking into the cold sand, slowing your pace until Carlos catches up, matching your steps once he does. “Comporta—real and unfiltered.” You both laugh at your hyperbolic, MTV-worthy statement, and he waits for more, entertains you further.
“What is so real about this?” Carlos laughs, allowing himself to humor your little schtick.
“Well, mister. This isn’t bookstores and ice cream parlors.” You point to a nearby spot in the sand, just by a rogue stick. “This is where I smoke without getting caught. Near enough that I can run back in seconds, but faraway enough that my parents can’t immediately see what I’m doing. Granted, I don’t need to be sneaking around much, but if you ever want to do something in secret—”
The implication sends Carlos into a spiral of thought.
“—here’s your spot.”
“So you smoke,” he says when he sits himself on the sand, observing the now-dark skyline of the area. You continue pacing around a little, and when you raise your arms up to stretch, he catches a glimpse of your abdomen, the waistband of pink lace underneath the low rise of your denim shorts.
“Occasionally. Don’t play Holy Mary,” you warn, standing in front of him and stretching your hand out to reveal a box of Marlboro Reds. 
“Wasn’t planning to,” he responds, taking a stick and inserting it in between his lips. “Got a light?”
“No,” you tease, taking one for yourself and sliding your lighter out from your pocket in one quick motion. The flame illuminates your face, casts a light on your thin white tee and on the bikini top you have on underneath. You puff out a small cloud of smoke, and Carlos reaches up to take the lighter.
“I said no,” you giggle, your lips knotting into a pout. You hold the lighter just out of his reach, red and bold against the bleak evening. 
“Give it.” He sits up higher, reaches harder; he almost gets it, but you step backward and raise your arm out of reach. Again your shirt rises with the movement. The view he gets, this time, of your hips, the lace that hugs the area there, is much more close.  The laugh you emit sends a cloud of smoke out.
“No, no,” you continue, laughing, a sweet sound.
Carlos gets up, tries again to lunge for the lighter. At this point he doesn’t even care about the cigarette in between his lips, just wants to entertain you. He tries again but you’re quick with it, ducking every lunge just in time.
“Come on,” he goads, laughing himself. You pace backward, smoking, until your ankles hit the shallow shore water, water that goes deeper and deeper until you’re knee-level, still smiling at him mischievously. 
“Fine,” you relent, shrugging. You throw your hands up in surrender, in the process taking the stick out of your mouth to blow smoke out. “Do you want it? C’mere, then.” You beckon him closer, wave the lighter tantalizingly so he steps closer, closer, until you’re holding the flame to the cigarette between his lips.
He’s so tall, he has to bend a little to let you light it, his eyes meeting yours, illuminated by the pale moon and the orange of the flame.
It all goes to plan. Once you light it, you place two hands square on his shoulders, whirl him so he’s behind you and thus even deeper in the water, and with all your might, push him into the sea. 
“Brat—” he manages to gasp out as he goes, the word leaving his lips in the first and last puff of smoke he lets out. He surfaces, every dip and ridge of his abs and chest accentuated, his linen polo near invisible with how saturated it is with water. His long hair, too, sticks to his forehead; he combs it backward, reveals his amused-irritated eyes, the dead cigarette spouting seawater and ash.
He spits it out. You stare and pinch the soggy stick in between two fingers, stuffing the trash into his chest pocket. “That’s bad for the environment.”
“I am freezing,” he says in response, but you’re just stifling a laugh.
He narrows his eyes, and with unsurprising ease given his build, picks you up and carries you over his shoulder. You barely have time to protest, almost dropping your own cigarette into the water, kicking and pounding on his back to please put me down. You can feel the water getting deep, deeper, and when he finally dunks you in, it’s only a second of dryness before you’re submerged in the chilly water.
Your cigarette dies, and you manage to collect it, because you’re not in the interest of leaving your stick floating; you wedge it into your pocket.
“You’re such”—you gasp for air—“a dick!”
You’re smiling, though, flailing your legs to stay afloat. Carlos can’t help but stare, entranced with the way your eyelashes stick together, damp, the droplets of water on your cheeks, your two hands wringing saltwater out of your hair, and when you swim upward, the way your white tee leaves nothing to his imagination.
You can tell. He can tell you can tell—because the next thing you do, with some faux exaggerated sigh of annoyance, is say, “Can’t swim, too heavy,” and you’re taking off your shirt so all he sees is the red of your bikini top underneath. The white tee bobs softly with each passing wave, and you’re smiling up at him. Checkmate, you’re saying. I’ve got you. A skittish, playful smile on your lips.
“I can help you swim,” he offers—retaliates, more like, his height offering him great advantage. He finds your bare ankle underwater, guides it to wrap around his waist. Naturally, your other leg follows until you’re flush against him, held up by him so you don’t need to wag your legs around just to stay above water.
Your hands go on his still-clothed shoulders first, then eventually around them, fingers linking at the nape of his neck. Your smile is wicked. You’re so sinfully pretty. He wades deeper, holds you all the while, two big hands on either side of your waist, thumbs rubbing over your sides so you can shiver.
“‘M so wet,” you say, voice shaky with chill and laughter. His grip tightens and he has to squeeze his eyes shut to try and pretend you didn’t just say that.
He dips you underneath the surface to surprise you, and your shriek is cut off by the water—he pulls you up quick, laughing, but underestimates his strength because as he tugs, you barrel right onto him, forehead bumping his.
Your eyes are closed, and you momentarily detach from him to wipe salt out of them. “Ass.”
“Brat,” he responds.
You open your eyes to find he’s close, so close you could just lean forward an inch—an inch—and you’d be meeting his lips. You wonder how they feel, how he kisses. He’s confident everywhere else, would he kiss you like that, too? You lean closer, a wrecked gasp escaping you.
“You’re so pretty,” you say, and it’s supposed to be teasing, but your breathy voice is genuine, honest. A thumb swipes over his eyelashes, causing him to blink, then the bridge of his nose. He leans upward, tries to catch your lips, but pauses, his eyes fluttering open and closed.
“This is wrong,” he says in a quiet breath, making no move at all you stop either of you from kissing right now.
You want—need—to kiss him, but you can play the long game if he wishes to. Your eyes flit back up to his, dark brown and reflecting the moon.
“Then let’s head back,” you suggest, even if both of you want anything but.
Long game. He guides you back to shore, picks your tee up, uses it as a sieve for any loose ash and cigarette bits in your path back to shore, even finds your red lighter that’s now dispensing water. He apologizes for not having anything to dry you with, and drops you off at your room with a puddle in both of your wakes.
“Thank you again,” he says, his voice a whisper through your ajar door. He observes your room with what little vantage point he has. The posters on the wall, the art, postcards. The laptop on the bed, open. The phone charging on the nightstand. The thong hanging out of the hamper.
“No problem,” you say back, voice saccharine. Your hand wraps around his wrist. “See you tomorrow.”
Even if you’re doused in seawater, he can still smell the traces of your perfume, the summery sweet of it, when you close the door. He stays for a second, blinks, relishes in the hint of floral.
You spend three days walking on eggshells around each other, testing the limits of interaction.
Your night at the beach was risky, dangerous, thrilling—but it was fun, sending you both into antsy, restless trains of thought. Carlos self-medicates with coffee, beer in the afternoon, working on your dad’s car, and the first two hundred pages of the Marquez book you insisted he pick up. He spots you sometimes, lounging on the beach with his book in your grip, the waistline of your bikini bottoms leaving a tanline he can’t stop staring at when you walk back into the house.
But he can’t act on it—he was the one who labeled it wrong, the one who suppressed himself, held the urge back. He told you it was wrong. And it is wrong. He’s older, he should be wiser; he’s close with your dad; and a cacophony of other rational reasons he shouldn’t be playing into this skittish summer crush.
“Dad said the boat’s free,” a voice says, and he looks up from his book to find you standing in front of him, wearing nothing but a bikini top and a skirt, loose and riding low on your hips. Your lips stretch into a sweet smile. “Wanna come?”
He really shouldn’t. “Sí.”
So he goes. He’s thirty-five. That’s a grown age. If anything, he’s capable of making sure he stays responsible. He dog-ears his page and picks up his beer to follow you to where the boat is docked. He’d been on your dad’s yacht earlier in his trip here, to go fishing, but it’s quieter today, bobbing softly atop the water. You lie yourself down on the sunny side of the boat, sunglasses over your eyes.
“Stay anywhere you like,” you say charmingly. It’s silent for a while, Carlos seating himself on one of the lounge seats in the shaded area, and then you’re moving around on your towel.
You peer over your lenses, blinking and sitting up, and this is when he knows he can’t do it.
“Carlos,” you call out. “Can you put sunscreen on my back?” You get up again, rifling in your bag for the bottle of sunscreen, dragging a hand through your hair to comb it out. It falls in loose waves, swishing when you turn to hand him the bottle. He pretends he’d been distracted on page 210 when he accepts it, watching as you sit in front of the seat, your back turned to him, your little figure in-between his spread legs. 
A minute passes with no hand at your back. “Go ahead, move even slower,” you joke, and the tension breaks a little; he humors you, laughs and apologizes.
“It’s because hour hair is in the way,” he says, touching it gently, combing it to the side.
“Wait—” You dig through your bag again and pull out a blunt pink ribbon, slipping it into his hand. “Can you braid it for me?”
“Braid?” He doesn’t know jack shit about braiding hair. “I don’t know how.”
“At that age of yours and you don’t know anything about how to please a girl,” you whistle lowly. “Adult virgin?” 
But you guide him through it despite your teasing, teaching him to divide your hair in threes, weaving one strand over the other until “it looks half decent.” He fucks up a few times and your hair looks odd at some point, but in the end, it’s—well, it’s a braid.
“How is it?” You ask, and he can hear your smile.
He does the job well enough for a first-timer, he thinks, finishing it with the ribbon, which he ties loosely lest you’re unhappy with the finished product. It becomes easier to move your hair out of the way, and once your back is saturated with sunscreen, you unfold your legs and get up, turning around and smiling down at his sitting figure.. Loose tendrils of hair frame your face, the braid resting at your back softly, already loosening.
“Your hair can be braided, too,” you comment quietly, knotting a rogue few strands in your fingers. It hasn’t been this tense since that night at the beach, but that ended before the tension rose further—this, now, keeps going. You step closer and he leans back, smiling. “Can I?”
He blinks, nostrils flaring, then nods, his grip on your hips gentle when you sit on his lap, your legs on either side of his. You smile coquettishly, feeling how hard he is underneath you, the denim of his jeans rough against the skin of your bare thighs. Your skirt’s riding up on them with every little shift you make, just to rile him up.
Carlos drinks in the sight of you, sunkissed and on his lap, legs sprawled out, pretty little face framed, bottom lip in your teeth. You’re inviting him closer, your gaze meeting his with sleepy, demure eyes—do something. You look so fucking precious, so pretty. It makes him want to give you everything right now.
You reach forward, make an attempt to try and weave his hair together—but he grinds upward, your breath hitching and a whimper punched out of your mouth.
Your hands are shaking now, barely able to piece his hair together with how good his clothed cock feels pressed against you, where you need it most. 
“Carlos,” you gasp, and all he can really think is—where’d all your fight go? You were so used to being a brat and a half, now you’re whimpering, on the edge of begging.
“Be quiet,” Carlos grunts, digging his fingers into your hips. His other hand lifts your skirt, bunching the fabric around your hips for a better view of your cunt rubbing against the bulge in his pants. The damp fabric of your panties is swallowed between your lips with every grind you make forward and he has to stop himself from cursing out loud at the sight. “Good girl.”
Your hands move from his hair to his shoulders, sturdy and broad; you can feel him squeeze your waist with both hands, then pull you down against him, just once, so your weight presses down on the hard shape of his cock. It makes him shudder and you whine out loud. You resist the urge to grind over it; you’re already so wet you’re making a mess on his jeans.
His praise, mumbled deep and slow in your ear, gets you feeling all warm, almost ditzy. Your hips roll on their own, chasing the delicious drag of rough denim against your clit, slick soaks into and through your panties, making the material cling to the shape your folds. Carlos’ hands are rough when they wander and grope, hiking this godforsaken skirt up so he can press a thumb against the centre of your folds.
“Been so good for you, Carlos,” you whine, circling your hips against him. He can’t stop staring at your pretty, fucked-out eyes, your bitten lips. He shoves two fingers in-between them, imagines how they looked just a few days ago slick with ice cream—now your tongue is laving over his hand. The braid you'd just taught him is quickly unraveling with every nod of your head. “‘M gonna—can I—” The pleas leave you quick, your voice choked.
Euphoric, your mind lifts, foggy and saturated with pleasure, the braid almost completely undone now. His praise is so addictive, gets you worked up and needy. Come on, he says. Make a mess. His accent, his deep voice, the way it rumbles right through you—his voice drops, his touch a little heavier as he presses harder.
You gonna cum for me? His thumb rubs faster until you’re gasping, shuddering, little ahs leaving your lips. He’s got the upper hand now, but you can hear the strain, the suppression in his voice as he rubs over the soaked fabric; you feel his cock growing under you, getting harder. 
P—please—I want to—please let me, you say breathlessly, and you’ve never needed it to the point of begging before, but Carlos is different. He keeps going, doesn’t give you permission, rubbing faster, your heart hammering in your chest.
Feel good?
Y—yeah, you whimper, trying your best not to fall apart here, on your dad’s boat, where anybody could walk on—or maybe see you from afar, humping your dad’s friend in broad daylight. He loves watching you like this; you’ve somehow become even prettier, face flushed and voice shaky.
Come on, he goads. Be a good girl. Cum for me.
It’s the only instruction that matters to you right now, your body seizing with it and cute little moans escaping you as you finish. You catch your breath against his chest, craving warmth even if it’s hot—maybe you’re craving him, his touch, Carlos, just Carlos. You maneuver yourself so legs, exhausted from shaking, are on one side of his body—he holds you close, humming.
He rubs a steady hand across your lower back, gentle and firm and you want him so much more now. “Are you okay?” He asks. “Talk to me.”
“Perfect,” you pant against his polo, fingers playing with the stitching, tugging the collar down so you can mouth at his skin. His hand plays with what’s left of the braid, winds the pink ribbon around his fingers. “Let’s go for a swim.”
“And we drove the jet ski around, too,” you say gleefully, your damp hair bobbing with every move of your head. Your face is sunkissed, a little sore from being in the sun for most of the afternoon. Carlos laughs along from where he is at the grill—he’s cooking for dinner, on a quest to make burgers because he’s known for making the best ones back in Madrid, apparently. Your dad, of course, insists on joining, and the two have been asking and answering questions while you and your mum sip rosé at the table.
“Did you have fun?” Your mum asks, her head turning to address Carlos.
“Yeah, tons,” he replies with a smile, his eyes meeting yours for a brief second. You know what he means. It’s been only two days since the afternoon on the boat, and since then you’ve mostly swam and ridden around on the jet ski with Carlos—nothing more.
“See, sweetie,” she adds, placing a hand over yours. “I told you this summer would be fun with him around!”
“Mmm, yeah,” you say, nodding and parting from your glass, “I can really count on him for some excitement.” The statement catches his attention and he almost trails off, eyes returning to yours, before he continues speaking in Spanish to your dad about something or other.
The burgers’ reputation precedes them, and is warranted, you learn later when you’re biting into it for the first time. The remainder of dinner passes by in lively conversation, the sun setting low underneath the Comporta horizon, wine taking the place of rosé. Carlos mentions the racing world again, about how he’ll be back into the thick of it sooner than later, and you pulse with something akin to sadness.
Your parents, apparently so grateful for the blessing that is Carlos’ burgers, offer to clean up and before long, they retreat to their downstairs bedroom. Upstairs, you marinate in your thoughts, blinking up at your ceiling, twining your pink ribbon around your fingers as your hair dries splayed over your bedding. You let your arm down, in the process bumping your elbow against a hard surface.
Upon investigation, you find it’s a copy of Norweigan Wood. 
Carlos is at his desk, taking a timezone-separated call about simulation and season prep, when two soft knocks go at his door and it creaks open. He turns the chair away from the desk to see who it is. An ankle steps in first, then more leg, and then you—in a lovely, pretty pink lace dress, your face illuminated by the moonlight outside. One hand clutches a copy of his book; the other, the ribbon he’d used on your hair earlier.
He’s nursing a bottle of beer, just to help ease the drag of the day, and he watches you approach him, your footsteps quiet against the hardwood of the floor. Wait, he mouths, finishing the call in a hushed tone, and when he hangs up you approach him again.
“I thought you should have this back,” you say, offering him the book. Your eyes rake over him, wearing the same getup he’d worn to dinner—denim jeans, because he’d ducked out to buy food, except he’s ridden himself of his shirt. 
He takes the book, places it on the table, continues staring up at you. “And I thought you should keep this.” The ribbon, pale pink, is now looped around his wrist and tied into a delicate ribbon at the apex of it. You admire your handiwork with a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
You lean down, face just shy of his. “We shouldn’t,” he manages to eke out, his voice strained.
“But you want to,” you respond softly. “No one’s going to know. Our little secret.”
His eyes are shut, contemplating, and then he’s kissing you—the only thing you’ve wanted, craved, touched yourself to the thought of over the course of the summer. You reciprocate immediately, parting your lips to let him kiss you deeper, a whimper leaving your mouth. He kisses like he knows he’s a good kisser, and he really is. His scent is intoxicating, a drug, sending arousal and desire straight through you.
You part, eyes half-lidded as you stand straight again. You cock your head slowly to the side, and with your head’s movement your hair follows, gathering on one side. It exposes much of your shoulder and collarbones, which lay underneath the thin lace dress you wear to sleep, and which is now subject to Carlos' unwavering stare. He has no shame, eyes raking over you, up and down and back up. One hand curled around a bottle of beer, the other coming up to slowly graze the back of your thigh.
Your breath hitches. “Do you like the dress?” You ask softly, teasingly. It’s nothing special, Carlos, you seem to say; it’s just a nightie.
His hand is rough against the thin skin of your leg, traveling upward. He gives you a nod in response; he does like it, the sheer material, the pink color, the loose way it hugs your body. Roughly, he voices his assent. “Come sit on my lap.”
“Wait,” you say, pouting. Your knee rubs softly against the material of his jeans, and you slowly sink onto your knees, hands placing themselves on your thighs. His grip goes from the back of your thigh to your hair, combing it softly, cradling your face. 
“Let me,” you say, letting your silence imply everything unsaid. He’s going crazy, losing his mind.
“So pretty,” he says, nodding. his voice thin. “Go ahead, baby.”
The petname gets you dizzy. You lean forward, resting your face on the hard bulge in his pants, smiling up at him. You’ve got these big, doe eyes, begging him, and he’s not so sure he even has the upper hand anymore—he would do anything you asked, any request that left those pretty bitten lips. He gathers your hair in two hands, forms a messy, unclean braid, crisscross at the back of your head just so he has something to grip while he fucks your throat.
You make quick, deft work of unbuttoning his jeans, and he watches, leaned back on the chair, legs spread wide with bent knees on either side of your body, caging you in. Carlos’ eyes are half-lidded, a hand at your braid, bringing his beer to his lips, swallowing before he sets it onto the adjacent desk.
His cock is big—thick, intimidating—and you can’t help but wonder how you’re going to fit the whole thing in your mouth without choking. It twitches in your palms the longer you stroke him, precum weeping from the head and slicking up your palms. Gruff expletives, in Spanish and English, slip past his gritted teeth and the sounds travel directly to your core, causing you to instinctively press your thighs together to soothe the ache blossoming there.
You take head of his cock into your mouth, feel it roll over your tongue, heavy and warm. Drool gathers in your mouth and your fingers dig into the muscle of his thighs in anticipation. The hand wound around your braid, pressed against your head, presses heavier slowly, slotting the first few inches of cock into your mouth while avoiding the back of your throat. You relax, letting your lips seal around the length, cheeks hollowing and tongue lulling at the underside. He curses.
You continue bobbing your head, lewd noises leaving your mouth with every move you make; it embarrasses you, but also sends slick gushing out of you.
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes when the tip of his cock grazes the back of your throat; you cough, fingers heavy as they dig into the flesh of his still-denim clas thighs; drool trickles onto his balls. The hand remains there, though, pushing you and keeping you pinned in place as he slowly thrusts upward. You haven’t even gotten him all the way.
You gag and sputter, eyes fully watering the harder Carlos bullies his cock into your throat; you’re dizzy with arousal and submission, maybe one, maybe both, you’re too far gone.
“Easy,” he orders, and you will yourself to breathe nasally, relaxing, burying more of him in you. He loves seeing you like this, hair all pretty—his braid, too—and on your knees, trying your best to please him. “Being so good for me, good girl,” he says, losing resolve. You’re so pretty when you cry, eyes rimmed and bloodshot, tear streaks all over your cheekbones.
He ruts shallowly into your throat, every move punctuated by a guttural gag from your end—once, twice, a third time, before finally he releases you. You let out a cough, and a gasp, breathy, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. He doesn’t want to cum yet—not like this. You gaze up at him, big eyes anticipating, and he guides you upward, on the bed.
He kicks his jeans off and readjusts his briefs, watches you scramble to position yourself on the bed, sitting down properly. “Will you fuck me now?” You ask, your sweet voice raspy. He likes knowing he’s the reason why.
You inch yourself backward so you’re fully on his bed, a hand traveling to stop your tiny dress from riding up any further. He steps closer, one knee on the bed, caging you in again, and stops you. His gaze flickers down to your legs, forces your knees apart so he can see in between them. Your pretty cunt’s soaked through your panties. “Don’t hide from me,” he says, voice rough as he steps back off the bed and kneels beside it.
“Carlos,” you breathe, letting him have his way with you. Your mind’s all fuzzy, but it’s okay—he takes care of you. 
Strong arms snake around your thighs and pull you toward him until your cunt is level with his face. His breath, warm, fans against you, muted by the thin fabric of your panties and it does nothing to help the unadulterated, dirty arousal throbbing in your cunt. He bites at the flesh of your inner thigh, then hooks two fingers into your panties and pulls them aside.
The taste of you is so good; it goes straight to Carlos’ head. And all of your embarrassed, whiny whimpers, the way your fingers knot helplessly into his hair as he drags his tongue up your cunt — that drives him absolutely crazy. He licks at your pussy, sticks his tongue in, nudges your clit with his nose, ekes whimpers and debauched moans out of your lips.
He pushes two fingers into you, doesn’t give you time to adjust before he’s fucking them in and out, moans spilling out of you involuntarily. It’s lewd, it’s dirty, getting his friend’s daughter all spread out for him like this, but Carlos loves it. More, you sob, more, please, I need—yeah—
His skilled tongue doesn’t let up, continues toying with you, licking up all the arousal oozing out of your cunt. He eats you, fucks you with his fingers, until your eyes are welling up with overwhelm and the need to release, your hands pulling at his long hair—your pussy dripping, quivering, right at the edge of your orgasm.
Any of the reservations you had are now out the window. Your grip on Carlos’ hair is tight, pushing his head deeper into your pussy and grinding against his mouth mindlessly.
I’m cumming—!
Your voice is so dirty, so lewd, so needy, when you finally finish around him, slick dripping out and your pussy twitching, clenching and unclenching around nothing as you release. Panting, you hoist yourself on your elbows, your braid surprisingly intact, and pout down at him.
“I said fuck me.”
“So you complain,” he responds with a coy smile, his lips shiny with your slick. You want him to fuck you stupid.
He does eventually, gets you all calm and lying down on the bed, knees to your chest. Your feet cross and uncross with anticipation. He lets his cock rest first on your stomach, where it twitches, smearing precum under your belly button.
“That’s where you’ll be,” you say, stroking him. When he finally does begin thrusting into you, he wishes he could save the image of your pretty eyes fluttering closed, puffy lips open in a whimper.
Your legs tremble with the size you’re taking, his hand gentle as it is firm on your hips, forcing you to take him, take him good, take him better. Good girl, he’s saying, good fucking girl. Inch by inch, you struggle to take all of him, his girth thicker than what your cunt is willing to take. You’re positive you’ll feel him in your stomach.
“Carlos,” you whimper, voice aching.
“Fuck,” is all he can muster, watching your pussy swallow him. “So tight.”
He’s drunk on the feeling of you, wet and clenching around him, so tight. He can tell you’re high on it too, on the stretch of him, the way you keep trying to meet every thrust, legs already beginning to tremble with pleasure and deep arousal. He bottoms out, an expletive leaving him in Spanish, and then slowly begins to fuck in and out of you.
He watches your face, the way your brows knit as you take him, take his cock, eyelides fluttering. “So good,” you moan, mouth open. He drops a glob of spit onto your tongue, tells you to swallow—you do, presenting your empty tongue to him. Good girl, prettiest girl—any and all praise leaves him in dizzy, heady breaths.
“Teasing me for so long,” he pants, his dick splitting you in half. “This what you wanted? Hmm?”
But even in your cloudy mind, you find the grit to retaliate, teasingly, a cloy smile on your lips. “You said it was wrong,” you gasp out with every thrust. “Fucking your friend’s daughter.”
“But you love it,” Carlos goads. “Do you?”
You nod, cockdrunk, but it’s not enough. “Use your words, pretty. You can do it.”
“I do, I love it. I need more,” you whine, getting off on his teasing, on the implication that this is all wrong, that neither of you should be doing this. “Needed this so much, Carlos.” You crack your eyes open to watch the bulge in your abdomen, the shape of his girth splitting you open. He slams into you harder and you try to squirm away, but he keeps you pinned in place.
“And if your dad walked in?”
You gush slick all over him. “Carlos,” you plead.
“Saw his daughter taking his friend’s dick?” He says it low into your ear, bending to make sure you hear all of it. “Taking it like a good girl, too.” He pulls out, slaps your ruined hole with his dick, then shoves it in deep again, groaning when you cry out—getting off on you whining about how sensitive you are, the way you tremble under him and around him. Your pretty little face, all sweaty and ruined.
“I’m gonna—fuck—I’m, Carlos—I’m gonna cum,” you say, nodding. You’ve probably cum twice already, little bursts of pleasure causing your cunt to twitch around him, sensitive. “Can I—?” 
“That’s it,” he praises. “Come on, cum for me. Been so good for me.” You tremble around him as you finish, broken moans fucked out of you with every surge of his hips forward.
He’s close, too, having held off fucking you for the past how many days, and you can tell; his thrusts get shallower, faster, until his hips are stuttering and he’s panting your name out, long hair framing his flushed, pretty face. You reach up to comb a hand through it. “Cum inside me,” you beg, watching him go crazy, his nostrils flaring and eyes blinking quick. 
He pumps his cum into you, thrusting several times as he rides it out, fucking you full of him, of his cum. You relish in the feeling, of being his girl, his good girl. “You’re a mess,” he comments, his face buried into your neck. He pulls out, both of you sighing at the sight and feeling of his cum dribbling out of you, onto the bed.
You unfold your legs, sitting up despite how sore you feel. Your dress is damp with sweat, and slick, and cum. “I feel a mess.” You pout.
“You look pretty.”
“Can I sleep here tonight?” You ask, voice meek. He nods, holds you tight as you both drift off, like he knows that you won’t be his to call his by the time the summer wanes and Comporta is left empty again.
“It’s the post-race interview,” Ali calls. “Hurry!”
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You hop into the living room, tossing her the bag of popcorn she’d requested you to cook. Fall has officially dawned upon the city, adorning it with orange and red leaves, jazz music and cold nights—and weekends watching races.
Around you, all your university friends watch with intense gazes at the winner of the latest Formula One grand prix—something none of you had been remotely interested in just months prior.
You watch, eyes glittering, at the winner. Tan skin, long hair, jogging over to the journalist. Sainz, what a stellar drive! She sounds awestruck, genuinely taken aback by his dominance on the track today. She asks for a message in Spanish, as always; a few words of inspiration, and then, just as a fun little tidbit—did you have a good luck charm today?
He smiles to himself, like he’s just heard an inside joke and seems to think for a minute. “No, not really.” Then he combs a hand through his hair. There, looped around his wrist, is a pretty, pale pink ribbon.
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mochinomnoms · 6 days
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Scenario: Some small item from the prefect's home world ends up in NRC. For example, my brother found a local brand of soda when he was out of our country for a few years. It made his whole week.
Option 1: Octotrio finds this item and know the significance of it. How do they give it to their dear prefect?
Or if option 2, if you want jealous Octotrio: Another student else gives the item to the prefect, and they are seething over how happy someone else made the prefect.
(sorry this is self-indulgent and I think im funy)
“A bottle of Mexican coke gets launched out of a wormhole and thunks them in the head. What is it? They have no clue, it looks like a soda, but they don't recognize the brand, logo, or anything really. It says Hecho en Mexico” on the side, though...wait! Isn't that a place from your homeworld? You'll love this!
“Ain't that the soda Shrimpy is always raving about?” Floyd was rubbing the side of his head that the glass bottle smacked into. It hurt like hell, and Jade hiding his laughter at his misery.
“Stop laughin', Imma bite you.”
“Fuhu, sorry Floyd.” Jade managed to clear his throat and straighten. “You just collapsed on the ground like a rag doll, it surprised me.”
“Yeah, how about I take that bottle and smack you up the head with it? We can see who looks more like a rag doll then”
“Think you could?
“Know I could.”
“I bet you can't”
“I bet I can, you fuc—”
Azul cleared his throat, drawing both of their attentions as he held the bottle in his hands.
“If you two would like to save the Cain instinct for another day, I do believe that we can garner the Prefect's favor with this.”
Both perked up, sharing a knowing look before smirking.
“Good point,” Jade replied, walking over to Azul to admire the bottle. “They have been shyer since our last outing with them, this would be a good opportunity to—”
“Floyd swiped the bottle from their hands and started a brisk jog as he called out, I got hit with it, so I get to take all the credit and all of my Shrimpy's love!”
“FLOYD!” Both chased after him, a loud, familiar cackle ringing through Main Street and everyone's ears.
You were none the wiser, chilling in your room with peace and quiet for once, as Grim was out with Epel in the Spelldrive Club. You gave it 1 hour before Leona got tired of him and sent him back to you.
Your peace was interrupted upon hearing the banging on your front door. Groaning, you got up and made your way to the entryway.
“I swear to God! Ace! If you're crashing here again, I'm getting you a literal doghouse!” You yelled out, huffing, as you swung the door open and instead found Floyd trying to wrestle a bottle of something from his grasp.
It was quite amusing, as Azul's grip wasn't even budging while Floyd pulled with all his might. Only Jade, who was on Azul's right, noticed you and smiled.
“Hello Prefect, how are you?” Jade nodded his head with a polite smile. “We apologize for the sudden intrusion, but we have something for you—”
“No, I found it! I have something for them!” Floyd whined, keeling over as Azul finally gabbed a harsh elbow into his ribs.
“You got hit in the head, I hardly count that as 'finding' it.” Azul gave you a pleasant smile, though you were wary of what the trio wanted from you to bring you something.
“We, all three of us, have a gift for you. We recognized it as something you've spoken about, and out of the kindness of our hearts, we decided to offer it to you in exchange for your time!”
“You snorted, glancing at the bottle in Azul's hands. Yeah, sure, 'kindness'. What's the point of a gift if—HOLY SHIT, IS THAT MEXICAN COKE?”
Azul stumbled backwards as you reached for the bottle in his hands, excitement gleaming in your eyes as you did.
“WHERE'D YOU GET THIS? ACTUALLY, I DON'T CARE! LET ME HAVE IT!”
Azul let out a yelp as you managed to pull the bottle from his hands, your eyes glittering and smile wide.
“You three don't know how bad I've been craving this since I've been here.” Sighing, you pressed the bottle, nice and cool, to your cheek in bliss.
“I would suck a man's dick for this shit, you don't even know.”
You froze at the choking sound in front of you, and snickering from the left and right. You noticed the light purple blush on Azul's cheeks and the pink ones on the twins. Jade was looking away, covering his mouth, but you could still see his lips quirk up. Floyd's snickering was growing into a full giggle.
“Ahem, I, ah, appreciate your enthusiasm for the gift. I'll keep that…in mind.”
“If he doesn't, we will. Isn't that right, Floyd?” Jade chuckled.
Floyd replied, “Oh for surrrre~ Say, Shrimpy?” Floyd leaned in, smile growing as he purred, “you up for offering that thank you?”
You backed away, face growing hotter as you pursed your lips. The twins laughed at you.
“Stop joking around! It was a joke and you know it!”
You could still hear the giggles from behind the door as you slammed it shut. However, you paused, hearing Azul murmur something to the twins and them quiet down. They sounded a bit disappointed, to be honest.
Sighing, you cracked open the door again, peeking out to the three. Azul was looking at you expectantly.
“Yes?”
“…Thanks. Do you guys wanna, uh, go out again this weekend? You said you wanted my time, in exchange, right?”
Azul visibly perked, giving you a closed eye smile as he nodded.
“Yes! How about we meet at 11am this Saturday at the gates? We can visit the town, you don't get to visit often, correct?”
“Yeah,” You smiled shyly. “Sounds good, I'll see you all then.”
“You pretended to not hear Floyd's whoop!” as you closed the door, chuckling to yourself.
“Weirdos. Cute ones, though.”
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hpimagines · 2 months
Text
Controlling Tom Riddle
Honestly idk what to classify this as, but it’s kinda like idk.. deranged? maybe not but I have more like this up my sleeve if it does well (TW: manipulation, unspoken gaslighting, extremely controlling, idk what else to add)
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You loved Tom. You truly, truly did. But he tended to take the term "I just want to lock you up" a little too seriously.
I mean, it wasn’t much at first, barely even noticeable in fact. Simple things such as suggesting what you should wear, insisting the more modest options were much more flattering on you; “It brings out your eyes, doll.”
He would remind you of your favorite foods, and when to and when not to eat them.. “Not now, it’s far too late for late night snacks. However, I have something I think might suffice for you.”
Overtime the helpful things became him controlling everything you wore, no shirts were allowed to be low enough cut for anyone to see down- tall people included. You wanted to comfortably wear your uniform? Absolutely not. It had to be perfect, and to show just how much of a “good girl” you are for him, you get cute bows in your hair every morning; special spell from him.
His behavior didn’t bother you, how could it? Yes you couldn’t wear certain things, but everything you got in return was amazing. Nobody understands him the way you do, they don’t know him like you do. That’s what you’re constantly telling your friends. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s romantic.”
Romance? It really is funny how blurry the lines get between romance and control, dress up per se? Once again with the dressing you- believe me, he spoils your beyond belief. Though, most of it is “My eyes only.” Slowly your closet went from things you’ve gotten from friends, shirts you once loved, to everything Tom approved.
It didn’t matter though, because he still spoils you.
Being in class was an entirely different story. In the beginning you simply couldn’t speak to any other guys, you understood, not wanting him interacting with girls either it seemed fair. Until you couldn’t sit with any of them, problem being, its not like you can just chose where you sit everytime. That doesn’t matter to Tom though, “You seemed to betray me today hun.” Nice name, yet the tone anything but.
It was pretty sudden when Tom just happened to to become your seating partner in every single class, and yes, that somehow included ones he once hadn’t attended. But this was a good thing. You got to be with your boyfriend all day long, that’s so exciting. Watching your every move, telling you what you did wrong on your work “Can’t have a dumb girl, can I doll?”
It was sweet. He was being helpful, you always had help. Just don’t ask for too much, then that makes you stupid, idiotic, dense. That’s according to him though, and yes his words. “Honestly, I don’t know what you’d do without me, you’re just so mindless most of the time. It’s infuriating”
But no matter what it’s always okay because, “You know I never mean what I say, Love. I’ll take you out, even buy you something new”
You see, none of this happened quickly. It was like one moment you controlled your life, the next moment you didn’t. You lived in his dorm, once again don’t ask how, Tom Riddle has his ways. He chose your outfits the days no uniforms were needed, but of course only because “I just love picking out what my girl wears, you love it too, don’t you, hm?”
Now here you are, unable to speak to anyone really, no boys, no friends because well, they only attract unwanted male attention of course. It was crazy to think you’d leave your friends behind for a boy, not just your friends really more like your entire old life, but Tom wasn’t just any boy. No, he had full control over you and you both knew it. You loved it.
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I know im saying idk a lot but idk how i feel about this 😭😭
once again i hope you all enjoy <33
373 notes · View notes
byuntrash101 · 1 year
Text
first flight to hongkong
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sub!reader x dom!ot8ateez (yes, of all of them. yes, all at the same time)
smut | nsfw | mdni
18.3k (so much filth and im not even sorry)
yes, you're suprised when your company offers you a vacant spot in the vip crew. but "surprised" doesn't cut it when you discover what kind of service your company provides the vips
nsfw tags under the cut
this tag list is looong so grab a seat sweetie...idol!au, a tad of plot, ateez’ love language is gift giving (yes it’s relevant), kink negotiation, color system safe words, flight attendant & sex worker!reader, dom!ateez (some are gentle, some are meanies depends on the member. hwa is both lol) gangbang, sir kink, impact play (spanking, kitty & face slapping), pain play, nipple play, use of toys, unprotected but safe sex (birth control + tested) (we love to see it), fingering (f), squirting, dacryphilia, orgasm control (f), overstim, slight corruption kink (they enjoy ruining you idk if it counts), very light foot fetish (yunho (pun intended) who this is about), marking, oral (f & m), deepthroat, praising, degradation (slut, whore), pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, good girl, doll, kitten, each of them kinda uses the pet name they like), anal, double penetration, mingi is big, yunho is bigger, so much praising, lowkey voyeurism/exhibitiosnim, brief mxm (woo jerks off san. ofc it had to be woosan), facial, manhandling, !!!!optional!!!! watersports (this post is the no watersports version. if u want the kinky version click here ♡).
DISCLAIMER: PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THE TAGS AND TO CLICK OFF IF ANYTHING SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING YOU WOULDN'T ENJOY.
a/n: this is an idol!au and it's taking place right after the break the wall show in paris. so hongjoong isn't blueberry yet (he's blonde) and mingi is pinkgi because i wanted him to be (even though the pink had faded completely by then). that being said im super duper excited to finally publish this. it's been such a journey for me please overlook any typos or mistakes and i really wanted every single member to get the spotlight and that's how you end up with 18k... but i garantee whoever your bias you'll see him in this. i hope you enjoy <3
ateez masterlist | navigation
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You check yourself one last time in the bathroom mirror of your Parisian hotel room. Normally your employer always booked you the smallest, cheapest hotels. But this time you have a beautiful room with a magnificent view on the busy Parisian and picturesque streets. You can even see the Eiffel Tower pierce the sky in the horizon line. 
You sigh as you look at your untouched croissant and coffee, they turned cold a long time ago. You lay a hand on your knotted stomach, you are not hungry. You are stressed. Actually, no. Stressed is an understatement. You are a nervous wreck. 
You fight the urge to bring your fingers to your mouth to bite your perfectly manicured nails, that were painted with a light coat of pinkish nude nail polish and instead tuck in a loose strand of hair back in your impeccably sleek low bun. The last touch up to make the rest of the look absolutely perfect. 
To go along with nude nails, you have light makeup focusing mainly on skin. High end foundation giving you the airbrush look paired with a peachy blush that complimented your skin tone nicely. Some very subtle contouring on your cheeks and jawline and highlighting on the bridge of the nose and above the cheekbones. And to finish it off mascara that elegantly elongated your lashes and underlined your gaze.
Before you slipped on the navy blue uniform over the beautiful white lace Balmain lingerie set. You sprayed a light touch of Banglore by Carven on to your chest, wrists, behind both ears and a touch on the crown of your head. The scent was very unique unlike any women's perfume you tried before. It was a contrasted scent of sandalwood and amber with a touch of vanilla that lingered to soothe the warm spices. It was balanced and elegant.
Regarding the lingerie, the luxurious white set fit you so well that it looked sewed onto your skin. The bra lifted your breasts and the panties sat very high on your waistline making your bottom rounder. 
You slipped on the light blue blouse and the navy skirt under a fitted blazer that matched the skirt. You also wore white thigh high tights. Yves Saint Laurent sleek black stiletto pumps. The shoes gave an elegant arch to your feet which was worth the discomfort. And last but not least the signature flight attendant beret, that had your company’s logo embroidered onto the side that read “Air France”.
You added to the look a very fine and discreet 24k gold chain around your neck and tahitian pearl earrings. 
And that was the completed look. At least this part of the request you could fulfill.
Because, yes, every single detail about your look today was requested and revised by your client. The jewelry, the lingerie, the perfume, the make up, the nails, the shoes. Everything was hand picked by him for you. 
It was your very first time attending the VIPs. Never in a million years you thought you would get there in your career but the rumor was that when the client was handed out the photos of the VIP attendants he requested to have the info of all the attendants the company employed and out if the hundreds of women he saw he picked you. So how could you not be stressed? This man (that was probably very influential) had set the bar really high and you on the other hand didn't have any past experiences to even wrap your mind around what was "setting the bar high" in this context. You were a total noob and you felt (you were) under prepared to cater the very specific needs of the VIPs. 
But after all, the company only offered the position to you. They never forced your hand. You could have said no. But the compensation that came with it was alluring to say the least. That added to the luxurious setting of it all. Getting to mingle with the rich and famous… even in that way… it tipped the balance towards the yes, to the detriment of your morals. But maybe you should have said no…
In the taxi from the hotel to the airport you couldn't enjoy the beautiful scenery of the maze of narrow and paved streets. You were too busy fidgeting with your perfectly manicured hands and trying vainly to swallow the lump inside your throat. 
You thanked the taxi driver and walked mechanically to the terminal, slaloming between the businessmen in between two flights and the lost tourists absentmindedly walking with their noses up and squinted eyes looking for directions.
When your feet hit the tarmacked runway making your heels click against it, you finally saw the aircraft away. It was unlike anything you worked with before. You were used to the huge boeings with the multiple rows and the numerous portholes but this one was a jet. The nose of the plane was narrow and contoured, the body of it was smaller but you could already tell from a distance, far more lavish.
You took a couple of deep breaths on the windy departure runaway to try to calm down. As you were climbing the steps that led to the jet you felt like your knees were about to give out. Thankfully your legs successfully carried you all the way to the clean and luxurious habitacle. 
Talking of luxury, you had never seen such a display of wealth before. Each individual booth was lined with immaculate white leather and stuffed with soft and cushiony material. You could only imagine how comfortable the seat was. Every single detail was impeccable. 
In front of the seat there was a bench where the attendants were meant to sit to wait for the customer requests.
"Hi" The pilot standing in the cockpit greets you. The sudden sound makes you jump. You muster a timid “hey” as a response. 
"Are you ready for the big leap?" He asks, wearing a warm, reassuring smile. 
"No, but I don't think I have enough time in this life to ever prepare for this so..." your words trail off into an awkward laugh. The pilot gently pats your shoulder. 
"Don't worry kiddo if there's anything wrong we're right here." 
"Thanks" 
"The info sheet is over there" he pointed at the small  closed off space, reserved for the attendants right between the VIP seating area and the cockpit. 
"Ready for the checklist, captain?" You heard the voice of the co-pilot ask from the cockpit.
"You'll be alright" he gave you a last confident nod before closing the door. 
And you find yourself completely alone. The space suddenly feels huge. You feel like you will never be able to fill it on your own. Maybe you bit off more than you could chew by accepting this? 
You shake your head to chase the doubts away. You should at least check the info sheet before panicking, you figure. 
You extend your hand to take the note sitting on a small counter next to a locker and a bench. 
On the paper you find your name, your company registration number and your photo. So far so good but it's nothing new. 
You read various info about the flight. Departure: Paris Charles de Gaulle. Arrival: International Airport of Hong Kong. The model of the jet and other details about the time of take off and landing. Still. There's not a single new piece of information to be found.
Then finally you reach the critical part. 
Client name : Ateez. 
You cock one eyebrow in surprise. That's an unusual name for a person. But somehow it sounds familiar…
There’s more information under “safe practices”: the client marked his wish for the service to be performed without physical barriers. All parties involved have been tested. 
You knew that too after the long hours you spent at the hospital yesterday. But the client paid extra just to be able to not use a condom. Fortunately you were already on birth control.
When your eyes glaze over the next title your heart loops inside your chest.
Service request. 
Under this you find a very detailed box list of various practices and... preferences. Many of which you'd have to Google to understand. Ranging from foot fetish to dacryphilia (one of those you had to look up). You didn't even know so many kinks even existed. But as much as you squint none of the boxes were checked. The list is entirely blank except for a hand written comment under "other". 
“To be discussed with the hostess.”
The hostess... that's you. 
The cryptic comment makes you somehow even more nervous. There's not a single piece of useful information on this whole entire form! The experience is already nerve wracking and the fact that the company is letting you figure this one out on your own is making matters much worse. You can’t prepare yourself without any information! 
Well… there’s the name at least, you reasoned with your irrational self. You scramble for your phone from your small purse and type the name in the url bar. 
You should have known not having to type the complete name for it to appear in the research suggestions was a bad sign. 
Thousands of found pages popped up on the small screen. The first one you open is your most reliable source: Wikipedia. 
Ateez (Korean: 에이티즈) is a South Korean boy band formed by KQ Entertainment. The group consists of eight members: Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung and Jongho. They debuted on October 24, 2018, with the extended play (EP) Treasure EP.1: All to Zero.
Wait… eight members...... your client is a GROUP of eight men?!?!?!? You click on the royalty free picture provided by the website. Somehow the 8 faces look familiar though you are sure you didn't know about them before today. 
Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach. Your vision starts to get blurry as panic wins over you. Infecting your body via the poisonous adrenaline the frantic organ pumps into each of your limbs. You stumble to sit on the small bench.
You knew the said client was filthy rich. Only the 1% can afford to request such a service from your company but you expected a politician or a silicon valley CEO... not actual celebrities. The kind that sells out arenas and stadiums, the kind that you see on billboards and that make the front pages of magazines.
Then the realization hits you like a train. You did see them before! You attended their flight from Copenhagen to Paris a couple of days ago. That also coincides with when the company proposed this promotion to you... You remember now but they wore masks you didn't get to see their faces properly and the company flies tons of influential people all year round. To you they were just the first class passengers and you took care of them like you would have with any other client. Yes they looked famous but you just didn't check... 
Now there was a difference between bringing them coffee and a hot towel and doing... whatever they were expecting you to do... which you still didn't have the slightest clue about. 
Now you are sure. You did bit off more than you could chew. 
You want to call off the deal. You should just call HR and just tell them to get somebody else on this one. Yes! Yes! You'll do that. There are plenty of other attendants that'd kill to be here so they'll find someone else no problem. 
Right as your thumb is hovering over the number of the HR department you hear rumbles and voices in the tunnel linking the terminal and the aircraft...
Looks like it's too late. 
You act in sole instinct and get up hurriedly, flatten your skirt and head with big strides to stand at the entrance of the plane like you would with any other flight. 
It's okay y/n. You'll be okay. You're always okay. This is just another flight. You've got this. 
You repeat those words in your head like a mantra. The silent prayer calms you down. You pull on your skirt and readjust your blazer, put on your best smile before you see the first shoe peeking up from the elbow of the tube. Followed by a colony of others. Sixteen to be exact, sixteen individual shoes. Yes... Eight. Eight men. 
It's game time. 
One by one the group boards the plane. You professionally greet all of them like you have with any client before. Politely smiling and bowing your head like you did thousands of times. All of them return the polite bow and despite their disguises you see some of them crease their eyes, letting you guess the smile curling up their lips under the masks, the beanies and the bucket hats concealing their faces. 
See? So far so good. You got this. One baby step at a time. 
Over the next few minutes you are able to calm down. You feel completely in control. You install the clients one by one in the separate and spacious seats. You make the final check of the luggage above the seats. Close up all the lockers and check that every passenger has fastened their seat belts correctly. You explain the safety procedures in case of an emergency. Then finally sit in your own seat, the little bench facing the VIPs while the pilot makes his announcement. When the plane accelerates to take off you are back into normality. Your heart has stopped racing and your hands are not clammy or shaking anymore. You no longer feel the need to nervously pull on your nails. 
You are in control. You got this. 
When the “seatbelts on” sign turns off you get up. 
"You may now unfasten your seatbelts if you please." You announced for all of them. And they all did. You saw them taking their jackets and beanies off, getting comfortable as you disappeared in the attending compartment to prepare the refreshments. When you pulled out the small tray they were all seated and had shed the clothes that were hiding their faces.
With each stop you make to pour the beverages you are astonished by their beauty, each member being more beautiful than the last one. You felt your heart flutter more than once when some of them thanked you for your service with a warm smile.
But as everyone is served with either a cool refreshing soda or a warm cup of coffee you can't stall any longer. You have to address the elephant in the room. You can do it as you would discuss any other subject, you tell yourself as a small pep talk. Just have to stay professional. 
You seat yourself in front of all of them and grab on a clipboard, a piece of paper and a bullpen. You cross your legs sideways, your skirt ever so slightly curling up your thighs, just enough to hint away at the white lace of your thigh high tights. Instantly their chatter dies down and you find yourself under the scrutinizing gaze of the eight men. 
"Now for the VIP service.” You speak as confidently as you can. “The form stipulated that the preferences were to be discussed with the hostess. Is there any particular request you'd like to make? Any preference you'd like to share?" 
"I think it would be more efficient to know what is off limits." The blonde one spoke. From what you saw online. That was the leader of the group, Hongjoong. 
You stayed completely silent, dumbfounded by the sudden change of dynamic. The client is supposed to state what they require from you and you are supposed to do everything in your power to fulfill their wish. 
"What are the no go's for you, sweetheart?" another one questioned when you failed to provide an answer in a normal, reasonable time frame. That one looked carved in marble, he had delicate features that looked hand crafted to perfection, beautiful long raven black hair resting on his shoulders which you could guess were muscular even under the thick black hoodie he was wearing. 
The pet name somehow made your toes tingle, sparking nervousness in your stomach again. 
"I don't know, the usual" you replied and immediately followed by an awkward laugh. Hongjoong smiled at you, Maybe picking up on the agitation showing through your micro habits. 
"What about submissive/dominant dynamics?" The blonde man kindly asked, giving you a clue on how to answer. "Would you be fine submitting to us?" 
At the question the tingles in your toes rose in your legs. To properly answer the question you had to imagine yourself kneeling before the eight men and the thought alone made you guts stir in something that wasn't just stress. You swiped your tongue on your lower lip in an attempt to pull you out of your thoughts. 
"Yes, that would be fine" you replied as plainly as possible. You spotted one of them smirk from the corner of your eyes. That one was also particularly handsome. He had sharp cat-like eyes that were piercing holes in you. The smirk grew bigger when you made eye contact with him as he was rubbing his chin with his index finger that was decorated by a simple elegant gold ring. 
"What about impact and pain play?" Another one asked. This one looked the tallest among all of them, even with all of them seated you could tell by how his legs bent, his knees sitting higher than the others. His face looked the softest among all of them so much so that it was hard to believe he could ask such a question with this benevolent expression on his face. 
"'Like spanking?" You manage to ask without squeaking or stuttering. Which was a miracle in itself.
"Yes, like spanking, slapping, pinching, hair pulling... All that good stuff." The tall one continues. 
"What do you say, doll? Would you like us to hurt you?" Hongjoong adds. 
You bite your bottom lip as you feel your insides quiver. Only managing to give a shy nod to the question. 
"Use your words, princess" another one intervened. This one seemed to be more mature than the others, he also had dark hair, long parted bangs tickling his lashes, very high cheekbones and a smile that could light up the darkest night, he gave off that aura of a shining star.
"Y-yes" 
So much for not stuttering... 
A murmur of approval collectively emerged from them. 
"And degradation and humiliation?" A deep voice asked, you looked over at the direction of the owner of said voice to find a pastel pink haired man looking right at you. He had sharp features, piercing eyes and a strong brow bone. When you looked at him puzzled he elaborated. "Let's say I want to call you my little slut, my personal little cock sleeve. Or make you bark before I let you cum. How would that sound to you?" 
You gulped as your mind instantly took you to the scenery. Your imagination sending you flashing images of sinful engagements between you and the group of men. Your guts stirred once again. You nodded and threw a glance at the previous man before quickly adding a shy yes (but still audible). Once again they emitted a quiet rumble of appreciation. 
You couldn't believe all the things that you were agreeing to. Sure you had some experience in sub and dom dynamics. Usually you liked to be guided and you let your partner take the lead. And of course you had a couple of light spanks before but that was about it. And the most surprising thing for you was that all of that sounded exciting. Everything sounded appealing to you. Everytime they asked you a question it stirred your stomach in a brand new way. 
"What about knife play?" Hongjoong asked. 
"No, I don't think I'd be comfortable with that one." You replied, almost apologetically. 
"Same for blood play?" He continued and you shook your head. 
"Yes, I don't think I'd enjoy that." 
"Spit play?" You shook your head again. 
"Well I think we covered everything. Guys?" They all agreed with their leader. "Also I see you got the little gifts we got for you" Hongjoong’s gaze slides down your frame to land on the white lace of the thigh high tights that was peeking under your skirt. The way his expression changed when he spotted the article made you swallow thickly. 
"I picked the lingerie set. White is your color, doll" 
You chuckled lightly at the compliment, feeling your cheeks heat up.
"Thank you" you smiled. 
"Yunho, what do you think of the heels?" He asked, turning over to the tall man. 
"Fit you like a glove. You look stunning in those” Yunho replied, giving you a warm smile. The comment made you nervously dangle your feet, which made his eyes instantly drop back to them.
"Wooyoung and Yeosang both decided on the nail color and the make up" both of them nodded in your direction at the mention of their names. 
"This red lip is beautiful on you" Wooyoung complimented while Yeosang stayed silent, only amicably smiling at you. 
"The jewelry is from Mingi" Hongjoong continued as the pink haired man raised his large palm up in the air. 
"The gray pearls really suit your skin tone and the gold chain compliments your neck line. I knew it was the right choice" Mingi's deep voice answered. 
"And Seonghwa is our perfume connoisseur" Hongjoong pointed at the man seated next to him. 
"The fragrance was an easy pick. Elegant and sophisticated, exactly like you" the astonishingly beautiful man shot a wink in your direction. Such a simple gesture, but the effect it had on you was completely uncalled for.
"San and Jongho came on the flight with their gifts." The man named San lifted a luxurious looking glossed paper bag. 
You got up straightened your skirt and retrieved it from him then Jongho seated next to him handed you a small case. 
"We’re going to give you time to open those too" Hongjoong said. "This flight is long. We'll have plenty of time to play together. In the meantime, we are going to get some sleep and rest from our tour. Our CEO thought we did so well at our show in Paris he personally booked this service with your company." 
"Thank you for trusting and choosing Air France" you bowed your head respectfully. 
"Oh no, doll. It's not about them it’s about you, y/n" your heart almost stopped at the mention of your name. "'When you attended our flight from Denmark to France you were absolutely perfect and we all collectively thought you would be the best candidate for the extra VIP service. So we were a little disappointed when the company said you weren't part of the VIP crew. But we insisted they at least ask you if that would be interesting for you and we were thrilled to know that you agreed." Hongjoong smiled at you so fondly. Almost like the previous conversation never happened altogether and the VIP service was nothing more than some extra room for your legs in the seat and maybe a wider range of refined liquor to choose from. 
"So we understand it's your first time doing this, right?" San asked. 
"Y-yes." You stuttered. "Yes it is" you said a lot more confidently this time. 
"Don't worry it's also our first time" the man grinned, cat-like eyes turning into little crescents as the smile spread on his face. 
"That's exactly why I'll be conducting the meeting" Hongjoong declared, making you peel your eyes off San to look at him. "From now on, you will refer to me only as sir. I know it won't be a problem to you as you used the title a couple of times in the conversation already. But still, do you understand me?" Last sentence was a lot more stern. 
"Yes, sir" you nodded firmly to emphasize your words, making him grin.
“The others are not as strict on the title. You may call them however you’d like. But I only tolerate that you refer to me correctly. Understood?”
“Yes, sir”
"Good girl" he smiled again but this time it was somehow not as wholesome and you took in a slow shaky breath to attempt to calm your heart that was hammering against your ribs. 
"During the rendezvous I'll be checking on you to see if everything is good with you. We'll use the color system." You nodded, listening attentively. "If everything is going well and you are enjoying your time with us when I ask you for your color you will say green." You nodded again. "If things are getting intense and you are approaching your limit you will say orange. At the word we won't stop but we will take it down a notch allowing you to breathe until your color is back on green and you feel comfortable again. If you are overwhelmed or if one of us does or says anything that makes you want to stop everything just say red and we will all stop. Right, doll?" 
"Yes sir" 
"I want you to know that you have full control over this. Under no circumstances you have to wait for me to ask for your color to share it with us. As soon as you feel that things are getting out of hand, say orange or red, okay ?" 
"Understood, sir" 
"Well then. Why don't you take this time to go open San and Jongho's presents while we take a little well deserved nap" 
"Yes, sir" you politely bowed and took your leave in the small reserved space for the attendants between the cabin and the cockpit. 
As soon as you close the door you let the stress of the conversation out with a deep sigh, pressing your back against the door and letting your head rest on it, the cold feeling on your heated skin keeping you in touch with reality as everything seemed so surreal. 
That was a lot to take in but somehow you didn't feel as nervous as you did before. Sure, there are eight of them. Sure, the conversation promised they intended to thoroughly... enjoy... the service but you feel like they value your safety and your comfort. You have a better understanding of the task at hand and no matter how complex and draining said task was going to be, knowing the boundaries of it was reassuring. You knew what they wanted from you. 
After a couple of minutes you used to ground yourself back down to earth (ironic isn't it?) You laid the paper bag and the case on the small bench. 
You undid the nice black velvet bow that was tying the bag together and took out what looked like a neatly folded uniform. But upon closer examination something looked off with the fabric. You unfolded the blouse. It was an exact replica of the light blue one you were wearing right now except it was made from fine mesh making it completely see through. You laid the article on the bench and unfolded the skirt. The length was ridiculously short and you know you'll have to walk up straight if you don't want your bum to be showing. But you guess it's the exact purpose of it. When you flip it too look at the back you know for a fact that the skirt was designed with the idea of exposing you in mind. You realized the navy blue cotton has two holes cut out to let both of your butt cheeks hang out of them. 
You lay the shirt next to the blouse. Deciding that this gift is a little intense and you'll get back to that one. 
You hand glazes over the case Jongho brought and you flip the attachments to open it. When you lift the lid you are greeted with a collection of different toys. All more colorful than the previous one. There's everything you could imagine. And more that you would actually need. You find a note that read “wear me” taped to a strangely shaped one. 
You grab the purple silicon toy and unfold the note. 
A remote control had been handed to each member. Please wear this one. For the other ones they're all yours pick the ones you like. 
You are hesitant for a second but this was exactly what you signed up for and it was our duty to fulfill the client’s wish. So you breathed in a deep slow and steady breath before carefully  slipping off your clothes. You were vigilant enough not to smudge your makeup and pull the wispy hair out of your sleek bun. You pull down the white thong just low enough on your thighs to be able to put the toy in. 
You almost gasp when you spot the wet patch on the lace, making the fabric slightly transparent. It's subtle but you can't believe you got this… excited from this simple conversation. Simply imagining the propositions they were presenting to you. 
You push the cylindrical part of the toy inside, biting your lip to repress a moan as the silicon easily glides inside you. The rest of the toy hangs out and lays over your clit. You swiftly pull the thong back up. At first you feel strange from this foreign object nested inside you but soon you grow accustomed to it. 
From the rest of the panoply of toys you picked out a simple decently sized metal plug that had a heart shaped pink gem stone at the end. You figured the rest of the ensemble will certainly look gaudy enough and you chose to disregard the various gag balls and nipple clamps. 
You put on the new uniform even going as far as to pin your name tag to the see through blouse. 
And the look is complete. The skirt is so small that it barely reaches the crease of your bum. Not that it makes a difference since the two holes leave little to the imagination. The lace of the thigh high tights are on full display and the same applies to the white lace bra underneath the see-through blouse. 
Saying you feel exposed is an understatement but still. You were almost at the two hour mark on this flight. You figure that the easiest way to deal with the embarrassment is to just plainly and simply ignore it. Go out there and work just as usual. And it's time to prepare the tray of refreshments. 
You step out of the attendant room to walk the central aisle to the back of the jet where the fridges and the carts are. You can't help but to feel a little relieved when you see the eight men wearing their eye masks. Maybe they aren't all sleeping but they are at least not seeing you like this, at least not right now. It buys you some time to get used to your new attire.
You prepare the various alcoholic beverages, the cold sodas and the hot tea and coffee before you take a deep breath. And push the cart in. There's only one member that the rattling of the cart seemed to have woken up, Seonghwa. 
With trembling hands you push the cart down the aisle to his level. 
"Can I get you anything to drink? Water, coffee, liquor?" You manage to ask in the most natural way possible. Careful to speak at an appropriate volume level to not disturb the others. 
"Coffee. Black, please" the handsome man replies. 
You take a cup and pour some scolding hot coffee for him. Your tensed hands around the cup betray your edge as you hand out the beverage, the dark liquid swaying in its recipient. But Seonghwa gently wraps both his warm hands around yours and around the cup. 
"Thank you. It's perfect" he gently whispers, looking at you with a reassuring, beaming smile that you return instantly. 
You push the tray back in, as it seems no one else is interested in a drink. When you go back to your seat that faces the members the help indicator lights up above one of the seats. 
"Sir, may I help you with anything." You asked San. 
"No" he whispered, careful not to wake up Jongho  sleeping between both of you since he was in the window seat. "I just wanted to say you look absolutely stunning. You wear the uniform beautifully" he held out something to you. When you opened your palm it was two shriveled bills of five hundred euros. You almost audibly gasped. Before you could say thank you he continued "I can't wait to peel it off of you later". You feel your knees getting weaker as San’s gaze gets sharper. You don't know how you manage to keep your composer as well as you do.
"Of course. Whenever you are ready, sir" you replied, as you felt your insides flutter under his scrutinizing gaze.
"Let's let them sleep a little first, kitten" you bit your lip at the pet name and you smiled back at him before going back to your seat to catch a breather. 
For the next two hours. The flight is absolutely uneventful and feels like any other day on the job. You even have enough time to forget about the skimpy (to say the least) skirt, the see through blouse and the lace. And even about the toy still inside you. 
You go back and forth between the aisles fetching drinks, small pillows and snacks fulfilling one typical and ordinary request after the other. This feels so routinely that you find yourself feeling a little... disappointed. 
What you didn't notice is how one by one the members emerged from their slumbers. You didn't notice that as the number of requests increased their usefulness decreased as their main purpose was to watch you walk up and down the aisle to see your breasts jiggle under the see-through blouse or your ass roll in the conveniently placed holes of your skirt.
And as you were closing the compartment above Jongho’s head, you lifted both of your arms up which caused your skirt to rile up your hips. Letting the lacey underwear peep from underneath it. That’s when Jongho spotted the purple color seeping through the white of the lace. That encouraged him to take out his remote.
The vibrations took you by surprise and you let one small quiet moan slip off your tongue. Immediately pressing your traitorous lips into a thin line. You crease your brows trying to reach the handle to finally close the compartment, trying not to focus on the low vibrations coming from the deepest part of you. 
Jongho can't help but to smirk when he hears the low rumble coming from the toy that is only inches from his face. 
You stagger back to your seat only for the help light to go off again. This time you walk over to Wooyoung. 
"Yes" you take a shaky breath. "May I….ngh…help you with anything?" 
"Yes, my armrest appears to be stuck. I can't seem to pull it down" he says, smirking. 
"There's a small lever on your right you have to pull it to be able to push the armrest down" 
"I tried but I can't make it work. Could you give it a try?" 
There was no way you could reach that far unless you laid over Yeosang's lap to reach Wooyoung’s window seat. One second look at the former and you realized that was exactly what they wanted. So you crouched down and laid on him, your stomach down. Your butt was on his lap while your face was on Wooyoung's thighs. You extended your hand and finally were able to push on the lever but suddenly the vibrations got more intense. You tensed up your back trying not to moan at the new pleasure you felt. 
But you still managed to push on the armrest down. 
"There you go, sir" you replied out of breath. 
"Thank you, baby" Wooyoung said as he pressed his hardening member to your cheek through his trousers, gently caressing the other with his thumb all the while you felt a pair of hands putting to good use the two holes in your skirt. Groping and cupping your ass cheeks. 
You let yourself whine ever so slightly when you spot the purple remote in the large hands of Mingi seated right up front, peeping back at you through the slit between the seats. 
You feel a new vibration coming. This time the setting is changed from the low tiniest vibrations to two short low ones and one long strong one. You can't help but to moan when you see Mingi picking this deadly pace while he smirks back at you through the slit. You feel the familiar build up in your core as Wooyoung rubs himself through his pants on your cheek and Yeosang grabs and massages your ass cheeks. 
You feel your walls dangerously constrict the toy inside you, your flirting with your edge but then the vibrations come to a stop. 
Wooyoung and Yeosang offer a helping hand to get you back on your feet and innocently smile at you. 
"That will be all, thank you, sweetheart" the latter says. Before you nod and go to another customer needing your help: Hongjoong. 
"Sir, may I help you?" 
"What's your color, doll?" The blonde man instantly asks. Still a little dazed you are taken aback by the question. 
"Green, sir" you say as you brought back some loose hair from the bum that was a little roughed up by Wooyoung moments ago. 
"Good" you spot the purple devices in his hand as he switches the toy on once more. At first it’s the same setting Jongho used. The lowest one. This one you could handle but soon Hongjoong’s slender fingers turned the roulette all the way up. 
The feeling is brand new because the source of the pleasure is doubled when you find out the toy can vibrate from two seperate places. You can't help but let out a strangled squeal. The intense setting of the toy instantly skyrockets you to unknown heights. 
"You look unwell, doll. Is everything okay?" Hongjoong asks with a sly smirk pulling at his lips. 
You nod. Heat rushing to your chest and neck. Insufferable pleasure making you weak at the knees. 
"Everything is perfect... mmmh... sir" you manage to say through gritted teeth. You realize the hungry gazes of the group of men are glued to you. Somehow the attention makes the pleasure even more unbearable and you feel like you're going to lose control at any second now. 
Your hands wrap around the headrest of Hongjoong’s seat in an attempt to ground yourself as you feel you are slowly slipping into the abyss. Your heat uncontrollably pulsing around the devilish toy. 
But as soon as you let out a moan that proves to be a little too high pitched. A pitch that betrays your imminent high. Hongjoong's eyes turn into a sadistic glacial gaze and he switches off the device completely. You can't help but to voice out your disappointment with an unpleased whine as you feel yourself pulse into the most infuriating and frustrating ruined orgasm. You look over the blonde man in confusion. 
"Why did you stop, sir?" You ask out of breath, strained voice seeped with desperation.
"Because you were being a bad girl, doll and bad girls don't get rewards." His voice was so stern you couldn't believe he was the same man making sure you were comfortable a second ago. 
"What did I do wrong?" The question sounded a little whiny as your eyes swept over the other men all looking at you with an evil twinkle in the eye. 
Your lost puppy eyes and the sad and desperate little pout made Hongjoong grow bigger in his pants as he was gaining this control over you. He had to fight the urge to immediately palm himself through his pants.
"Were you not about to cum without asking permission first?" you could hear the slightest hint of amusement behind the graveness of his tone.
"I didn't know I h-" 
"Talking back, are we?" You bit your lip, immediately interrupting yourself and looking down at your feet. “I thought you had better manners” Hongjoong said, fainting the disappointment of a strict father.
"I'm sorry, sir" 
"Sorry won't do it with me, doll. Doesn't she deserve punishment. Guys what do you say?" 
All of them nodded and agreed as you let the corner of your mouth fall, heart racing at the mention of the ominous word… Punishment.
"San" 
As soon as the leader called his name San got up and joined you in front of the group. He stepped behind you. 
"Now you'll stay completely still as San performs the punishment. Is this clear?" 
"Crystal clear, sir" you stiffened when you felt the strong hands of the man wrapping around your waist and reach over your stomach. You hold your breath as his fingers busy themselves with your blouse. Unfastening the buttons one by one. He peels the fabric off slowly as you take the sanction as obediently as possible. 
“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I laid eyes on you back in Copenhagen'' he whispers quietly, only for you to hear. His warm breath on your skin makes you shiver.
Then he moves to the zipper at the back of the short skirt. The vibration of the zip on your skin makes you shudder as the group of men relishes in seeing you so helpless. 
Soon you are left in only the heels and lingerie set. 
"You did so good baby" the man murmurs before laying a gentle kiss on the shell of your ear. 
"On your knees" Hongjoong says and you hastily obliged before he thinks you are being dissident again.
"Now say I'm sorry for being a selfish little slut obsessed with my own pleasure.”
The humiliation and shame makes your cheeks burning hot but still you comply. 
"I-I'm sorry for being a selfish little slut obsessed with my own pleasure.. Sir” you add for good measure.
“Now you’ll crawl to each of us and ask for a spanking. I think 8 spanks is a good start. Right gentlemen?” Once again they collectively agreed.
For a second shame paralyzes you.
“Go ahead, doll. Ask Seonghwa first” you look up at the man.
“Please, sir” you try to swallow a lump.
“Louder, princess” Seonghwa says, taking your chin between his slender fingers, smiling fondly down at his cute little toy.
“P-please Sir” you say louder this time. “Please punish me”
“Of course my princess” he replies in this tender tone. A tone that contrasts with the sharp sound of his palm falling flat on your bottom. You let a small cry slip out your lips as heat rushes to the sensitive patch of skin.
“What do you say, doll?” the blonde man chips in.
“T-Thank you Sir”
You crawled past Hongjoong to Mingi and Yunho’s row.
“Sir please, may I ask you for a spank” you asked Mingi.
The sting that followed had you throwing your head back and suppressing a moan by biting the inside of your cheek. Mingi’s hand was larger and a lot less gentle.
“Thank you” you hiss.
You continue the round, going to one member after the other until both your cheeks feel raw and several hand prints are left visible. You finish with Hongjoong.
“Please Sir, please spank me” you say out of breath, your hazy mind having difficulty putting the words in coherent sentences.
“Color, doll” he says as his hands slips over the sensitive skin, soothing you with gentle caresses.
“Green, sir”
All of a sudden you feel the vibrations deep inside your core again. You can’t help but let out a pleased moan escape your lips. Arching your back letting your head hang down. 
“Oh my g-god” you sigh before biting down on your lip. Hongjoong’s gentle hand wraps around your chin to lift your gaze to his own. His eyes are as dark as can be, an evil grin pulling on his lips.
“You were saying, doll?” he asks with his other hands still drawing soothing circles on your raw ass. “You wanted something from me?” he says, giving you a light squeeze.
You look around and see the other 7 pairs of eyes glued to you. And the sustained gazes and the vibrations send you to flirt with your edge almost instantly. 
“Don’t forget why you’re here, princess” Seonghwa warns you. “You can’t cum before given permission or I fear we will have to do all of that all over again”
“Except I won’t be as nice this time” Hongjoong adds, the gentle hold on your chin becoming a little tighter, blunt nails digging in your cheek. “Ask for your punishment like a good girl and I'll turn it off”
“Please. Please sir! Please spank me”
“Good girl” he says before lifting his palm and letting it fall back against your already sensitive skin. The sharp clap that erupts from the motion sends a spark of electricity straight to your core, lifting goosebumps in its wake.
The pleasurable pain and the tireless vibrations almost had you cumming but with immense resilience and respect for the orders you were given you manage to hold yourself back. 
“Such a good little toy for us, kitten” you hear San praise as the vibrations die down.
When you look back up at Hongjoong you look absolutely fucked out. He smiles at you and rubs soothing circles on your cheek. He can’t help but to feel himself twitch as he sees you look back at him this confused and frustrated. 
“You did really good, doll” Hongjoongs praises “You may rise”
You get up again to walk to the bench. You plop yourself on top of it, barely able to hold yourself on the stiletto heels but at least it’s a relief for your knees.
Suddenly you feel warm and gentle hands wrap around your waist and hoist you up on their lap, when you open your eyes you see it’s Seonghwa.
“You did really good, princess” Seonghwa says as you feel his fingers slip up your back and unclasping your white lace bra. In a split second the lace is off your blazing skin, you feel the air brush against your chest as the other men drink in your form, all eyes roaming this new part of your body revealed to their eyes. You whine softly as you fight the urge to cover yourself, turning your head to the side and closing your eyes just to avoid eye contact with them.
One of Seonghwa’s hands slips over your breasts, massaging the lumps of flesh and teasing your painfully hard nipples while the other one slips around your waist, down your stomach and inside the lace panties. 
You audibly gasp when you feel the toy being pulled out of you, whining at the loss of the fullness of it. You hear the toy bounce off the carpeted floor. 
“You won’t need this anymore now, princess” Seonghwa whispers in your ear before pinching your nipple a little harder. “We’ll take care of you now” You arch your back onto his torso. Immediately he starts rubbing small circles on your swollen clit. You can’t help but moan at the smallest of contact.
“You got so wet for us baby” Yeosang comments, making your eyes snap to him.
“And so sensitive” Jongho adds.
You feel Seonghwa smirk against your ear. Continuing the small and light circles on your clit. Soon you lose patience and start to buck your hips, desperate for friction, desperate for him to apply some pressure. 
“Do you want my fingers, Princess?” Seonghwa asks before planting an open mouth kiss on your neck.
“Yesss, Sir. Yes please” you breathe out, bucking your hips against his hand again. Which makes the older man chuckle against your skin.
“Take these off then, princess” He says, catching the white lace of your thong and letting it slap against your skin. Hurriedly you briefly lift your butt to shimmy out of the lace and let the fabric rest on one of your ankles. When you sit back down you feel your raw ass rub against Seonghwa’s clothed hard on, earning a low grunt from him.
“Spread your legs, Princess” Seonghwa says as he lightly caresses your thigh. 
The whole room held their breath, all of them waiting to finally see you in the simplest of forms, eagerly waiting to open Pandora's box. 
Gathering your courage you did so, very slowly you parted your thighs, feeling the cold air hit your swollen and sopping heat as you completely unveiled yourself for your clients. You spotted from the corner of your eyes Jongho starting to palm himself through his trousers.
“Fuck she’s so wet too” you guessed the deep voice to be the one of Mingi.
“So naughty” Yunho added.
“Good girl '' Seonghwa praised again when you couldn't possibly open your legs wider. He immediately slipped his ring and middle finger inside your heat, the slow and gentle stretch of your sex made you mewl pathetically, jaw falling loose as he curled his fingers right into your sweet spot.
“Oh my g-” the words get caught in your throat when Seonghwa picks up the pace. 
“You’re sucking in his fingers so well, kitten” San commented while he pressed his open hand on his length.
Your moans gradually grow louder and the wet squelching sounds of your dripping center bounce on the walls, Seonghwa composing a sinful symphony on your body. Pumping his fingers inside and out your heat then gliding up your folds to find your clit and dipping back in again.
As time goes by and as you inch closer to your edge you feel no intention in Seonghwa to stop. You know this time you won’t be able to hold back and after being so close so many times to your high. You just want to finally grasp it. You’re so close you can taste it. You just don’t want it to have it snatched away from you again.
“Seonghwa… Please” you breath out, cheeks flushed, nails digging into your palm.
“Please what?” Seonghwa asks, sounding as innocent as can be but the smirk you feel on the shell of your ear tells you the innocence as everything but genuine.
“Please… Aaaha. Can I c-cum?” you finally manage to ask.
“You wanna show everyone how you cum around my fingers?” The sinful choice of words makes your heart hammer against your ribs. But you would do anything for him to finally let you finish. 
“Yes” you breathe out, overlooking the shame, somehow managing to open your legs even wider, letting the plug peek from beneath you, the pink gem twinkling under the dim lighting, determined to let the others have a good look at you.
Your efforts are noticed. You hear a couple of them curse under their breaths while other finally slip their hands inside their pants. But most importantly your resilience makes Seonghwa agree to let you cum.
“Go ahead, Princess. Make a big mess on my fingers.”
You don't need more, you just let yourself slip as soon as you hear the magic words. Your mind slips into a haze as you throw your head back, letting it roll on Seonghwa’s shoulders. You clench around the man’s long fingers, cunt uncontrollably pulsing around him, refusing to ever let go of them. Your legs shaking as you let a long string of moans escape your lips.
The group of men admiring how your pussy opens and closes around their friend’s fingers, some grunting as they press a little harder on their painfully hard cocks. 
When Seonghwa rips his fingers out of your orgasming heat your cum just sprays out of your in streams, soaking the carpet beneath your feet. 
Finally as the stream dies down you’re able to come down from your high.
“Goog girl” Seonghwa praises as he brings his cum covered digits to your mouth. You immediately, out of instinct, your mind still in a complete haze, welcome the long fingers inside your mouth. Eagerly sucking and licking, your taste taking over your mouth and rolling on your tongue. 
Suddenly you feel another pair of hands on your thighs. When you look you see Yunho letting his big palms glide from your thighs to your calf and to your feet. He brings your foot to his face, one hand under your calf and the other wrapped around the heel while he kisses your ankles, going down on your feet, he slips his tongue out, licking the black leather of the pump. Before taking them off.
“How do you taste, princess?” Seonghwa asks when he sees you distracted by Yunho. 
“Delicious, sir” you replied, still not taking your eyes off the tall man kneeling between your legs.
“Let me have a taste.” Seonghwa says before crashing his lips on yours, you share your cum with him as he pushes his tongue past your lips, eager to discover your flavor. 
He breathes heavily as he keeps kissing you. You feel Yunho peel off one of the tights to give kitten licks to your toes. 
The novel feeling has you moaning into Seonghwa’s mouth. He sucks on your toes before trailing up your thigh. Leaving blue and purple marks as he progresses up until he reaches your pubic bone. He kisses you everywhere but where you want him the most. You whine into the older one's mouth. Until the taller man finally gives a kitten lick to your clit. You rip your mouth from Seonghwa to look at Yunho between your legs. He doesn't break eye contact as he starts to relish on your taste. Your eyebrows knit on your forehead as your jaw falls open.
“Fuckkk” you swear before sucking your lip between your teeth.
“You like that?” He asks, lips still pressed to your folds.
“Yess! Yesss” you say as you eagerly grind your hips on his tongue, earning a low groan from the man behind you as your ass rubbed on his harder than ever cock. The raging hard on threatening to rip through the pants at any moment.
“What a greedy little whore” Mingi says as he gets up to come closer to the scene. Soon all of them follow and you find yourself surrounded by all 8 men looking down at you, hands either under or over their pants, playing with their cocks as they didn’t peel their eyes off you for a second. 
Seeing all of them around you, their hungry gaze fixed on you makes you even more eager, and you find yourself grinding even faster on Yunho’s tongue, letting sighs and pleading cries roll off your tongue.
“You just came, doll” Hongjoong started. “And you’re already so eager to cum again?” his warm hand slipped between your breast to go up you throat, lightly squeezing, just enough to make it threatening, making your eyes snap to him. “You’re so naughty”.
While you were distracted by Hongjoong you didn't notice from the corner of your eye Wooyoung taking his pants off and pumping his length in his clenched fist. Swiping his tongue on his bottom lips watching you fuck yourself out on Yunho’s mouth while Seonghwa groaned behind you and bit your neck. 
It’s only when you felt the hot tip against your cheek that you turned your head to him. When you look up at him the devilish grin that he adorns makes your inside flutter, your eager cunt twitching on Yunho’s tongue.
“Open wide for me, baby, okay?” Wooyoung’s raspy voice asked as he laid his leaking tip right on your lips. As soon as the tip of your tongue makes contact with his slit you give it a kitten lick. The salty taste goes straight to your head and makes you dizzy. You open your mouth a little wider and Wooyoung slowly pushes his length inside you. You can’t help but to moan as you feel the smooth skin gliding so easily on your wet tongue. Letting your eyes roll back as you feel your lips stretch to accommodate this fullness in your mouth while Yunho slows down his rhythm, allowing you just enough lucidity to be able to concentrate on your new found mission. 
Wooyoung continues to progress until he bottoms out. And you hollow your cheeks to pull your head back on his length just to push back in. You start out slow, making sure to lube him up with your spit. And Wooyoung sighs at the pleasurable way your tongue swirls around his tip every time he hangs on your lips, letting his head roll back, thick veins ornamenting his neck.
As you pick up the pace you feel hands wrap around what was once your bun and push you back down further on Wooyoung’s cock.
“Come on, princess. You can do better than that” you hear Seonghwa purr in your ear. As Wooyoung groans, feeling you go deeper. “You can take him all in. Right Princess?” 
With each coming and going Seonghwa pushes on your head a little harder until, your nose hits Wooyoung’s pubic bone. Seonghwa keeps you right there for a moment as you look up at the younger man with teary eyes.
“Ever since I picked this red lipstick for you I've wanted to see it around my cock. You’re so pretty like this baby.” Wooyoung says as Seonghwa finally releases you, allowing you to pull back and breathe. You suck in a deep breath, fighting back a coughing fit.
“You’re doing so good, Princess. So good for us” Seonghwa praises, already pushing your head back on Wooyoung’s length. You open your mouth once again, pursing your lips, hollowing your cheeks. So good that soon enough Wooyoung lets his head roll back and let a long string of profanities fall from his lips.
“Fuck you’re so good at this, baby. Like you were made to suck cock” he praised, through gritted teeth. “Fuckkk” he cursed again and you felt his cock twitch on your tongue while he suddenly gripped your hair, stopping you from pushing him back inside your wet mouth. “Fuck” he breathes heavily. “I need a break.  Don’t want the fun to end now” he said, pulling his lips in a sinful smirk.
“I’ll take it from here” San said, pulling Wooyoung by the shoulder to take his place. When you are presented with San’s cock you can tell he has been playing with himself for a while, the tip is swollen, beet red and dripping. It is the most mouth watering sight you ever got the chance to witness. Instinctively you open wider and approach your lips but San pulls back before you can wrap your mouth around the alluring member.
“An eager little kitten, aren't we?” the man breathes out while he lazily pumps himself before your round out eyes. “You want my cock this bad ?” he smirks wickedly, looking down on you. You only nod, not peeling your eyes off San’s cock. “You have to properly ask for it before I give it to you” Your eyes snap back to his sharp ones. There’s not a trace of humor in his dark brown orbs, only dark lust burning holes into you.
“Please, sir. Fill my mouth with your cock” you whisper, your warm breath hitting San’s raw dick, making him suck in a breath. 
“Good little kitty” he praises while pressing his cock against your lips, which you part as soon as you feel the hot leaking tip against your mouth, immediately the taste going to your head. Slowly you glide on San’s length as his hands wrap around both your ears, pulling you even further on his cock, grunting all the way down until he reaches the bottom.
“Stay completely still, kitten” he whispers, the sultry tone making you shiver under his unwavering gaze. “Let me fuck that pretty little mouth”
Suddenly you gasp as you feel two long fingers being pushed inside your dripping heat, Yunho, tired of being ignored, wants to get your attention back. And the least you can say is that it’s effective. His digits curl inside you deliciously, able to reach deeper than Seonghwa.
San takes advantage of your sudden gasp to push his length deeper, picking up right where Wooyoung left off. You feel the delicious burn of your throat expanding to accommodate San’s girth. 
Yunho wraps his lips around your clit once more while San pleasures himself with your mouth, strong grip around your head, pulling your head in and pushing it back out again at a rapid pace. The pleasure makes you moan on San’s length, your eyes becoming watery. 
“You like that, babygirl?” you hear Yunho ask you from between your legs. You can’t possibly respond because San doesn't allow a single word to leave your mouth, only muffled sounds of approval.
“Good girl” Yunho praises before returning to tease you. His tongue twirls around your sensitive bundle of nerves occasionally sucking and flicking it with his tongue. 
“You like getting your little cunt stuffed while I fuck your face, kitten?” San asks, breath short, strong forearms contracting around your face. You only moan in approval, trying to nod your head which proves to be impossible due to San’s grip. Only the volume of the pitch of the moans you make, gives away at the state of urgency in which you find yourself.
“You wanna cum?” San asks, somehow grip growing stronger. You moan again, one single tear rolling down your cheek, dragging with it one streak of mascara. “Cum, kitten. Cum for Yunho with my dick down your throat” 
Once again the permission makes you let go of the knot in your guts, the pleasure spreads to you through your core pulsing under Yunho tongue and clenching on his long fingers, deliciously curled right into your sweet spot. Gradually San and Yunho slow down allowing you to ride off your high.
Before you even gather up your thought you feel Seonghwa turn your head to him one more time, slipping his long tongue inside your mouth, the only response your hazy mind can come up with is to moan into his mouth before you feel yourself being lifted up by a couple pair of strong arms, Seonghwa grunting under you.
“Princess, I need you right here” You hear the older man’s deep voice as his gaze points at his dick, now shed from its restraints, standing proud and tall. You step towards him and lift your leg to take him in but he stops you.
“No, princess. Other way around, I want the others to see the beautiful expressions you make with my cock deep inside you” he says as he lightly pushes on your hips, urging you to turn around. When you do and see the others you can’t help but to feel a new wave of arousal. 
You find yourself hovering over Seonghwa while you hold his length in your hand. The whole room seems to hold their breath as you align yourself with him, gathering your arousal, taking your time to spread it on the leaking tip.
“Look how wet you are” Jongho commented. “We haven't even started yet and you already made such a mess”
“S-sorry, sir” you muster and bite your lip immediately after, sinking your hips on Seonghwa as the others all look at the precise place your two bodies meet, fist pumping around the results of their own arousal.
“Fuckkkk” you hear Seonghwa curse in your ear. 
“Enjoying the eldest privilege, hyung?” you hear the low voice of Mingi ask as you can’t even bring yourself to open your eyes, your body automatically shutting down your other senses to focus solely on the delicious stretch of your walls around Seonghwa’s girth.
“I’m not the only one, am I Princess?” he asks short of breath, his hands tucking behind your ear one of many strands of hair that escaped your once sleek updo. When you fail to provide a satisfactory reply, Seonghwa’s hand drops down to your cunt. 
“Didn't I tell you to…” his hot breath fans your ear, you sigh and let your head fall back on his shoulder as you feel his hand touch you in the place you need him the most only to receive a sharp slap right on your very sensitive bud. The unexpected and acute pain stirs your gut in a brand new way, making you clench around Seonghwa, ripping a low moan from your lips.
“... use your words?” he asks, voice a lot sterner. 
“Yesss” you mewl. “Yesssss” you pant. “Yess, sir” not being able to tell if you crave another slap or if you had just gone completely mad.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks again.
“”Yes, sir. I am”
“So naughty, doll” Hongjoong comments, stepping closer.
“Now princess, work for me a little, okay? Make me feel good.” The eldest places both his hands on your hips making you sink down until he reaches the deepest part of you as you moan, feeling him deliciously splitting you open. “Show them how good you are.”
You start to rise up again, Seonghwa’s hands still on your hips but not helping you in any way, letting you take control over this. Once his tip is barely hanging inside you, you sink down again, this time faster. His lubricated length slides inside you with ease. You moan without restraint at the way his length rubs on the toy in your ass, stirring it around and making the metal push on all the right places. You repeat the motion until you settle in a comfortable rhythm. 
As you behave according to Seonghwa’s order you can't help but let your half lidded gaze sweep the room. All these eyes on you make you clench again, urging you to bounce harder on Seonghwa’s girth. 
“Look at you, slutty tits bouncing for us.” Jongho comments again, making you bite your lip, shame bubbling with arousal in the pit of your stomach. But at the same time you can’t seem to stop your hips, irrepressibly pulled down and pushed back up again and again until Seonghwa feels you flutter around him.
“You like giving a good show. Right Princess?”
“Yess sir” you whine, eyes prickling with tears. 
“Aren’t you a pretty one, doll?” Hongjoong whispers, his voice barely covering your moans and whines, slipping his hands right between your breasts caressing with the tip of his finger your soft and dampened sweaty skin, trailing to cup your breast. Suddenly he pinches your nipples harden into buds, the dull pain makes you roll your head back, letting a throaty moan escape your lips.
“Doll, can’t you do anything with those pretty hands of yours?” Hongjoong asks, pinching ever so slightly harder. 
Before you can even reply anything, Yeosang and Yunho step to each side of you, wrapping your fingers around their two cocks. 
“That’s way better” Hongjoong compliments.
They start out by guiding you on their length until you continue on your own. 
“Fuck sweetheart” Yeosang starts. “Those pretty hands were made to pleasure cocks” he praises as he brings your face close to his length, pushing your cheeks onto his tip, spreading the pre cum on your hot face. 
“Such a good little girl for us” Yunho outbids the praise, pulling you close to also spread his essence on you. “Faster my baby” he exhales.
You oblige as you feel Seonghwa's hands on your hips urging you to go faster, his blunt nails digging into your sides. As you do so Seonghwa lightly scoots down on the bench, angling his cock in a brand new way. You can't help but to moan loudly at the way he’s now rubbing your sweet spot, each back and forth scrubbing against the toy in your ass and deliciously poking at the entrance of Eden's garden. 
“Such beautiful sounds” Seonghwa praises, licking around your ear, the wet sounds of his mouth making your guts slush around as your grip tightens around the two cocks in your hand, making the two men groan. 
You can’t help but to let your mind slip in delirium again, pleasure delightfully clouding your judgment.
“Sir please, can I cum?”
“Again?” Jongho scoffs. “You really can’t fucking wait can you?” the sharp glacial tone, contrast with the sadistic and amused smirk spreading on his lips. You whine in response, brows linking on your forehead, bouncing even harder as Hongjoong continues to tease your nipples, taunting the hard buds until they become so sensitive you could cum from the way he plays with them alone.
“I’m sorry I can't let you Princess” Seonghwa says, strong grip on your hips making you stop abruptly. Immediately your hungry little cunt starts to pulse around his length, yearning for more of the delectable friction as your ass clenches around the plug.
“Please, Please please” you start to plead. Lust speaking in your place, completely forgetting about everything else.
“You really have no shame” the younger comments again.
“No Princess. Seonghwa says sternly. “Unfortunately I made you cum once already and I have to let the others also have fun with our brand new toy.” you whine, tears of frustration brimming in your eyes. “I recall Mingi didn’t even touch you yet”. 
Your eyes instantly snap to the tall pink haired man, standing in front of you while a wicked smirk spreads on his lips. 
“No, I haven't played with our little play thing… yet” his low voice rumbles makes your chest tighten as you let Seonghwa’s length slip out of you in defeat. The last word somehow sounds like a threat and makes you shiver. 
“What you say, y/n?” your heart makes a loop in your chest when the man uses your name. They only used pet names until then and you weren't expecting it, it somehow feels a lot more personal, almost making you forget you’re actually working right now. “Do you wanna play with me?” his large hand wraps around your neck, not squeezing in the slightest way. His fingers are only curled around you, lightly pulling you up to guide you out Seonghwa’s lap. 
“Yes. Yes I want to play with you, sir” you say, entranced by the man. 
“Good girl” he praises, still leading you by the neck and making you kneel on the carpeted floor. “Lay there Angel” his low but commanding voice said.
You lay on your back and bring your knees over your chest before spreading your legs open. Jongho and San sitting at each side hold your legs apart while all of them eye down your red, swollen and pulsing little cunt.
Mingi kneels down and places himself right between your thighs, the huge member sitting heavily in his open palm, you gasp when you feel the hot tip glide over your drenched folds. Mingi repeats the motion a couple of times, each time pressing down with his tip on your swollen and sensitive bundle of nerves. You jerk your hips everytime under the divine pressure he applies but soon you grow frustrated.
“Please…”you whine breathless, looking up at him with half lidded eyes, your messy hair stuck to your forehead.
“Please what, angel?” he asks as you feel a pair of foreign hands cup your breasts, you don't even take the time to look around to find the owner of those hands, only eyeing down Mingi’s massive cock laying over your quivering little pussy.
“Please I want to feel you” you finally say, just above a murmur, squirming not wanting anything more than to finally be filled to the brim with a cock. After all this teasing you just need to feel a cock inside you. Anyone. You just want to be filled. 
Mingi chuckles darkly at your quiet request as he continues to tease you.
“You want my cock, baby?” he asks, deep and sultry voice lifting goosebumps on your bare skin. You nod, not peeling your eyes off the member. “Bark for it.”
“Huh?” you look back at him confused, the wicked smirk playing on his lips makes you shiver.
“Bark for my cock like the bitch you are” he lifts up his dick to let it slap back down against your sensitive and erect clit, making your jerk at the sharp sting of pleasure.
“He said bark!” Jongho adds, only now you see he’s the one teasing your nipples.
“Woof woof” you finally let out.
“Again!” Jongho commands as he lands a slap on your cheek. Making you gasp and arch your back into the carpeted floor.
“Woof woof woof woof” you repeatedly scream.
Tears of frustration are blurring your vision. Making you unable to see as Mingi finally plunges his fat cock into your desperate heat. Your walls immediately welcome him with happy spasms. Mingi grunts and moans all the way down to the bottom of your hungry little cunt.
But then again he stops moving, he just stays there, more tears spill from your eyes, dragging down your mascara, progressively ruining the makeup that was so thoughtfully planned out for you. Much to Wooyoung's satisfaction. 
“Please. Please.” you say breathless, unable to stop yourself from trying to rock yourself on Mingi’s cock. “Please fuck me” you ask again.
“Color, doll?” you hear Hongjoong ask. You look back at him confused. You need a moment before the words even mean anything in your mind. But the question forces your mind back to reality.
“Green” you utter. To your response Hongjoong and the others snicker.
“You really like to beg don’t you?” Seonghwa's remark makes you whine.
“Such a good little cocksleeve, properly begging for us. You’re doing so good baby” Yunho praises, wiping the tears away.
“Go ahead Mingi… give her what she wants” Hongjoongs concludes.
The pink haired man then looks back at you and starts to push inside your greedy little cunt steadily.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir” you hastily say looking up at Hongjoong your orbs drowning in a sumptuous blend of desperation, gratitude and need. He looks down at you with a proud paternal smile. You’re so cute. Completely fucked out stupid. The perfect little fuck toy.
You feel your cunt deliciously stretch to accommodate Mingi’s fat cock as he bottoms out and lets out a low groan. You can’t help but to arch your back at the delicious filling sensation, the definitely girthy (to say the least) cock scraping against the toy crowding your other hole in exquisite pleasure. 
Gradually Mingi picks up the pace as Jongho continues to play with your tits. Flicking the hardened buds and pinching them occasionally crouching down to suck on them. 
Pleasure rises, your gut tightens in the familiar knot but as you become more vocal and as your walls start gripping Mingi a little tighter he slows down, denying you your high. You can’t help but to whine in disappointment.
But as a distraction from the frustration Wooyoung crouches down next to your face and once again teases your lips with his blazing tip. You gratefully open your mouth to take your mind off the agonizing pleasure Mingi inflicts to you. Hungrily sucking on Wooyoung’s length, bopping your head to the side as you felt another cock graze your cheek but you didn't open your eyes to see who it was you solely concentrated on Wooyoung.
“That's it baby. Suck my cock” you heard him praise as he wrapped his veiny hand around what was left of your bun. “Fffucck… y/n” he moaned. 
Mingi started to pick up the pace again making you moan on Wooyoung’s length, the vibrations making the younger man shiver. As you didn’t slow down, hollowing your cheeks on his length as you pulled and moaning as you pushed your head back.
“You’re so good for us, Princess” you heard Seonghwa from beside you, guessing it was his cock caressing your cheek. “That’s right, keep going like this” he encouraged and you picked the pace again.
“Fuck… You… mmmh… want my cum that… fucking… bad?” Wooyoung struggled to say as you felt his grip become tighter around your hair. You nodded again, you didn't know if your point came across but you didn't care you only wanted to taste his cum on your tongue.
“Fuckk” you heard Mingi still smashing himself between your legs.
“Fuck I’m cumming” Wooyoung pulled on your hair, popping his length out your mouth to release all over your face, warm white cum crashing on your nose, cheeks and lips. You hungrily licked your lips as Wooyoung grunted, emptying his balls on your face.
“Shit” the younger man breathes out as he unravels his fingers around your hair. Immediately Seonghwa pinches your chin and turns your head to the other side, to look at him. 
“Mingi please” you whine again as he decreases the pace again, you try to turn your head to the pink haired man kneeling between your legs but Seonghwa firmly maintains your face to him. 
“Shh, Princess.” he gently says as your body is shaken under each of Mingi's slow but powerful thrust. “Don't waste Wooyoung’s cum, okay?” with his index finger he scraped your cheek and dragged the thick liquid to your mouth, pushing his cum coated finger past your lips, as you wrapped your lips around it, moaning as Wooyoung’s taste filled your mind.
“That's it. Eat it all” Seonghwa praised as he jerked himself off with his other hand. “Good girl. You want mine too, Princess?” he asked, inching his length closer to you. 
“Yes! Please! Sir, please I want your cum” you eagerly reply. 
“Sweetheart is starved for cum, isn’t she?” Yeosang commented.
“Open. Stick your tongue out” Seonghwa’s tone was urgent, his voice was roughed up and strained, giving away at his own need. “Don't close your eyes, Princess” he says breathless, his fist frantically going up and down his aching cock. “Keep looking at me” he said, barely above a whisper. Catching his bottom lip between his teeth and knitting his brows as pleasure contorts his beautiful delicate features.
You happily obliged as Seonghwa lets himself go. Aiming primarily at your open wet hole but the uncontainable powerful streams also get on your nose and all the way to your forehead, perfectly splitting your ruined face in half. 
Seonghwa grunts in satisfaction as the others approve and jerk themself off at the beautiful and sinful sight.
“Keep your mouth open Baby. Don’t swallow yet” Mingi orders. “I want to see their cum in your mouth while I pound into you.” 
This time Mingi seems to be more serious, he doesn’t mean to tease you any longer.
“Fuckkkkk” Mingi grunts as he plows into you, making your tits jiggle under Jongho’s hands. “You're so fucking pretty with all that cum on your face, angel” He hisses through gritted teeth. “Wanna cum on my cock, baby?”
“Yesshhh” you managed to say, swirling the two loads on your tongue.
As the pleasurable feeling spreads from your core to your whole body you feel warm hands laid against your erect clit, drawing tight small circles on it. 
“You gonna be a good girl and cum for us, sweetheart?” Yeosang purrs as he teases your clit, instantly taking you to unknown heights. The pleasure fogs up your mind as you can only think about Yeosang’s hand on you and Mingi’s cock pounding you into oblivion. 
“Fuck… Cum now.” Mingi ordered as his thrust became shallower, less regular. 
“Thank you. thank you thank you” you blabbered, your mouth still full of cum as you let yourself come undone at Yeosang and Mingi’s touch. Your cunt uncontrollably pulsating around Mingi’s big cock, the indescribable pleasure making your legs shake and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let your tongue hang out your mouth, the cum threatening to spill with each jerk of your body.
“Fuckkk I’m cumming” Mingi announced as he became uneven, finally letting himself release deep inside you, his hips snapping to yours a couple of more times as he painted you a brand new shade of white, your convulsing little cunt milking him to the last drop, eagerly wanting to drown itself in the precious and delicious essence. 
“Swallow now, darling”. Yeosang allowed you. And you gladly did so. Finally getting the thick cum down your throat, relishing on the intoxicating taste as you let Mingi slip out of you and his cum lazily dripping out your shapeless hole.
“Come here and clean your little mess” Mingi said out of breath as he stumbled back sitting on the floor with his legs in front of him. You got up on all four and crawled to him, finding your spot between his ample thighs while he held out his sticky cock to you, covered with your slick and his cum. You kept your ass up as you bent over to wrap your mouth around the tip and giving it a hard suck. You felt the warm load drip down your thighs as the mixed flavors of your arousal and his cum flooded your mouth.
As you licked clean every inch you felt a pair of hands gently pat your ass.
“You really have no shame, do you?” Jongho commented from behind you, landing a slap on your raw ass. You jerked and moaned as you popped Mingi’s freshly cleaned length out of your mouth. 
You felt Jongho pull on the plug that was still inside you. He pulled lightly on it a couple of times to let it be sucked back in by your ass. 
“Oh what a greedy little hole, clinging onto the toy like this” he said finally pulling the toy out, admiring your hole opening and closing in need to be filled again. “Don’t worry darling, you won’t stay empty for long”. Just as he said that he plunged two fingers inside your blinking hole. His index and middle finger forming a V to spread your hole open as much as possible. You moaned in bliss as the others watched you being split open in awe. 
“You like my fingers in your ass?” Jongho asked as his other hand was rubbing soothing circles on your bare bottom. 
“Yes!! Yess sir I love them” you almost yelled back eager to feel more of him.
“What a good little whore” he praised, landing another spank on your reddened cheek. He then curled his fingers to rub against your sweet spot. You let your head hang as you close your eyes only focusing on the pleasure happening behind you when you feel a gentle touch on your cheek. When you look up it’s San, kneeling in front of you, holding his swollen and painfully hard length in his hand. 
“My turn now, kitten.” he says in a raspy tone. “Open up” as soon as you part your lips he slips inside the wet hole, directly aiming for the back of your throat. As you are on your hands and knees your mouth and neck perfectly align in a flat line and San is able to reach the back of your throat easily. You feel the pleasure burn again in your already sore throat, awakening the dormant and dull pain, a little souvenir of his previous visit.
After a couple of back and forths he pops his length out your mouth, making you whine but it’s caught in your throat when you feel Jongho stuff one more finger inside your crowded little ass.
San wraps his fist around his length as lazily pumps himself a few times.
“Give me a hand Woo”
You see Wooyoung’s veiny hand wrap around San’s cock. San lets out a throaty moan as the younger man’s fingers curled around his length, pumping him lazily while you observed in awe as his catlike eyes creased and his eyebrows met on his forehead. 
San’s now free hand gently rubbed your face, his lips being pulled in a sinful smirk.
“Faster” he instructed Wooyoung. and he immediately started to pump his fist quicker. “Ffuucckk yesss” he hissed clenching his jaw as his half lidded eyes stared right into you.
“I think kitten wants her milk” he chuckled at the way your eyes started to grow in approbation, pupils dilated at the thought. “Let’s not make her wait any longer”
You licked your lips in anticipation while San caught his bottom lip between his teeth, completely dropping the cocky smile as you saw him twitch in Wooyoung’s hand.
“Open your mouth, darling” Wooyoung ordered, aiming San’s cock right at your wet hole.
“Fuck, kitten! Want my milk?” San asked as you saw his muscular thighs contract.
“Yes please sir I'm a thirsty kitty” you said before sticking your tongue out. Which made San push his jaw forward.
“Then take it” he said, his hand going from your cheek to your neck to pull your face further onto his crotch right before he cums as Wooyoung clenches his fist around the twitching cock. A colossal amount of cum spurts out of his open slit, crashing on your face and mixing with the others’ loads, your tears and smudged makeup.
“Good girl” Wooyoung praises.
The salty and bitter taste wraps around your tongue as you moan in satisfaction letting your mind focus on this intoxicating flavor. 
But Jongho pulls you out of your trance by circling your waist with his free hand, to be able to play with your clit. Which has you moaning instantly.
“I want you to cum around my fingers” Jongho whispered as he drew tight and rapid circles on your over-stimulated clit. More tears spill from your eyes as the pleasure elevates your body again.
“Pleaseeee” you whine. At this point you don't even know what you are begging for anymore. Are you begging him to stop, to let you rest? Are you begging him for more?
Then Wooyoung crouches down and sticks his tongue inside your mouth as your jaw is slacked. Your moans and whines are muffled as your eyes roll back into your skull while you share San’s taste mixed your spit with the raven black haired man.
“That's it baby” Jongho praises a carnivorous grin pulling at his lips. 
Another earth-breaking orgasm washes over your body as your tight little asshole tries to swallow Jongho’s fingers whole, your cum spraying out of you in a powerful stream again while you moan into Wooyoung’s open mouth.
When Jongho pulls out you are left breathless and fucked out of your mind.
“She’s ready back here” Jongho announced, wiping his fingers on your skirt abandoned on the floor. “Who wants to have a go?” he asks.
“Me” Yunho answered immediately. 
You can't help but to gulp. Out of the eight of them, Yunho is easily the biggest one. You can’t help but to nervously chew on your bottom lip as you eye down Yunho’s hard and leaking huge cock. 
“Stay right here” Yeosang says as he sees you squirming.
Yunho kneels behind you but as soon as you turn your head to look back, Yeosang gently pinches your chin and makes you look at him.
“Look what you did to me, sweetheart.” he gently purred, swiping the raging hot tip across your wet swollen lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard ever. That’s all for you, darling” Yeosang sings as he pushes back his long black hair. You let a moan escape your lips as you feel Yunho’s fingers swipe up your slit to your clit, flicking the poor exhausted nub a couple of times, when he notices how sensitive you are. You hear him chuckle behind you.
“Don’t you think you have to take responsibility for it?” Yeosang’s grip on your chin grows tighter but his voice remains as sweet as honey.
“Yes, sir” you agree as you open your mouth again. As soon as Yeosang’s hot cock head glazes over your tongue the sweet taste of precum completely wipes away the soreness of your already abused jaw. 
“Yesss” Yeosang hisses, gentle hands wrapped around your nape and guiding your lips to meet his pubic bone. “So fucking good baby” he gently pulls out and goes back in immediately. 
Then you feel Yunho’s cock rub against your soaked center, emitting a lowly grunt, making you moan on Yeosang’s cock. The latter chuckles and the way you shudder feeling your little cunt being teased again.
“You want Yunho’s cock, sweetheart?” he asks, pulling his dick out of your mouth to allow you to answer. 
“Yes! Yes please Sir!” you eagerly say, trying to look back again but Yeosang doesn't let you..
“Look at me, darling. Only me” he reminds you. “Where do you want his cock?” he traces the outline of your lips with his spit coated member, teasing himself in the process.
“In my ass please. I want Yunho’s cock in my ass” You said with pleading eyes looking up at Yeosang. 
“So greedy” Yunho snickered once more as he finally pushed himself inside your blinking hole. You can’t help but to gasp at the way your ass expands to accommodate Yunho’s enormous cock. Each of the rings inside your tiny hole stretches to a brand new limit to fit the monstrous member forcing its way inside of you. You groan and bite your lip all the way until Yunho has pushed the whole thing inside and you manage to take him completely. You suck in a couple of deep and shaky breaths.
“Such a good girl swallowing my big cock whole like this” Yunho praises as he stays still for a moment, allowing you to adapt to him. “Are you alright, babygirl?” he asks with his sweet voice, the caring tone makes your heart flutter.
“Yes sir, I’m good” You answer with a short breath. 
“You’re so pretty, darling” Yeosang says, wiping a tear off your mascara stained cheek. “So beautifully ruined for us” he says before pushing his dick past your lips again. At the exact same time Yunho slowly pulled himself out of you. Scraping you so deliciously as he did so, making you moan on Yeosang’s cock, the vibrations making a shiver run down his spine. 
“Fuck you’re gripping me so tight babygirl” Yunho growled as he pushed his length back inside. You could have cum with just this. Just by the way he was making you so full of him, scraping you in all the right places. To take your mind off the pleasure that was burning your guts you started to focus on Yeosang instead. 
You bopped your head along his cock and hollowed your cheeks when you reached the tip, sucking a little harder as your tongue lapped at his slit making sure your tongue never forgot his taste.
“You’re so good with your mouth, sweetheart” Yeosang said, warm hands gently wrapping around you as his hips helped you to get him off. Snapping his hips against your face but never to the point to trigger your gag reflex, there was a gentleness to him, a softness in the way he looked down at you almost amorously as you felt his cock throb on your tongue. The tenderness made you want to be the best girl you could be for him. You wanted to give him your all and you intend to do just that.
“Fuckkk” he hissed as you wrapped your tongue around the sensitive head, bopping your head a little harder.
“Babygirl wants our cum too?” Yunho asked as his hips became sloppier against yours, the two large palms tensing on your ass cheeks and squeezing them to keep himself balanced on his knees as he smashed himself inside. 
“Stay still, sweetheart” Yeosang suddenly says, steadying himself right in front of your mouth. One hand wrapped around the underside of your chin, the other still on your nape. “I’m gonna use your cute little mouth. That's what you want, right darling? Wanna be my toy?” You nodded your head quickly while you obediently waited for him to fuck your mouth, staying as still as Yunho allowed you to be as he pounded into you.
Yeosang’s thrusts were shallow at first. But quickly grew deeper, making your core tighten and your eyes prickle again
“Fuck baby. You’re gonna make me cum if you clench like this” Yunho grunted. “I want you to cum with me, understood, babygirl?” 
You only moaned back, unable to form words as your mouth was clearly occupied and busy. 
“Goog girl” he moaned, his trusts becoming more and more sloppy as Yunho became more vocal, grunting and moaning with each coming and going, his grip on your ass growing tighter until he was ready to bust. 
“Fuck, baby. Now” he breathlessly said as he gave you one particularly powerful thrust. “Now. Cum for me. Cum for us, baby”
You let yourself leap past that edge once more, the overwhelming pleasure makes you moan and whine against Yeosang’s length while your ass clings onto Yunho’s huge cock, demanding to be filled with his cum, walls pulsing and clenching in exquisite bliss as you felt him slip out of you. Yunho only had to give himself a couple of light pumps around his fist before he exploded all over your ass, long ropes of scolding hot cum splashing on your back even reaching all the way to your hair and the back of your head. 
“Fuckkkk” Yunho cried out, clenching his fist around his cock, pressing his thumb over the throbbing head to push every last drop of his cum out just for you. 
“Shit, darling, I'm gonna cum” Yeosang declared, following right after the taller man, his hips snapping one last time against your lips, as you felt his throbbing cock releasing the thick cum right into your throat, not even leaving you the pleasure to feel it slide against your tongue, directly delivering it down your throat. Stuttering hips and pubic bone flushed against your face. A long string of deep moans echoing the ones of Yunho.
When Yeosang slipped out of you and pinched your chin again to make you look up at him. He looked back at you like you were the most precious thing on earth, a treasure that needed to be protected at all costs. Looking so fondly at his fucked out toy, your half lidded eyes hung in nothingness as your body was still lightly shaken by the intense and multiple orgasms.
“So pretty, sweetheart” he lays a gentle kiss on your swollen and numb lips, which you barely had the conscience to even reciprocate. “Such a good girl for us”
When Yeosang gently lets go of you, you have to gather all the strength left in your body not to let yourself collapse to the ground and hold yourself still on your hands and knees. You barely even notice when Hongjoong crouches in front of you.
“Color, Doll?” he asks as he lazily pumps his swollen cock inside his hand.
“G-green” you barely manage to say. Your mind still completely hazy from the previous events but you are brought back instantly as Hongjoongs lands a quick slap on your mascara stained cheek, making you whip your head to the side.
“Didn’t hear you, doll” he said, giving you a chance to correct yourself. 
“Green, S-sir” you sniffled, remembering to use the correct title, your eyes snapping to him.
“Good girl” Hongjoong added, soothing your burning cheek with his thumb. “I guess it’s my turn now, right, doll?” he looked down at you with a carnivorous, predatory smile that made you shudder.
“Yes, Sir. Whenever you are ready”
Hongjoong sat right in front of you, in the cum soaked carpeted floor of the jet.
“Sit on my cock, doll.” Hongjoong said, holding the base of his length up in the air, urging you to be filled up once again.
You struggled to get up on your two legs and staggered over to Hongjoong, placing your feet at each side of him. When you lowered your hips, aligning your entrance with Hongjoong’s member your thighs barely held you anymore. Your body was exhausted but somehow you were yearning for more. Your insatiable and sore little cunt was throbbing at the idea of being filled up again. 
When Hongjoong’s tip glided along your slit you moaned and draped your arms around his shoulders, using him as a way to get balance. You let out a long moan when Hongjoong finally splits you open, his length pushing the remnants of Mingi’s load deeper inside you. 
“Fuck. You’re already throbbing, you dumb little whore” Hongjoong said, hand untangling with your hair and breaking your neck backward, to give himself access to your already bruised neck. Adding his touch to the stained canvas with bites and kisses. “Yearning to be filled again. Isn't that right, doll?” he asked, yanking your hair a little harder when you didn’t reply fast enough.
“Yes, Sir. I wanted your cock so bad. It feels so good!!!” you moaned as you started to bounce yourself on him, earning a satisfied groaned from the blonde man. “Right thereee” you let out as you sink your hips all the way down, slowly again, feeling the head of his cock rub against your sweet spot. 
“Good girl. Keep going” Hongjoong urged, letting go of your hair and laying himself back on his elbows, backing away slightly to take your whole form in. He wanted to admire you fuck yourself up on his cock. He wanted to see your tits bounce and your pussy throb as you drove yourself to madness. He wanted to see you cry. He knew exactly how.
He landed a purposeful and sharp slap right on your soaked little clit. The reaction is immediate and exactly what Hongjoong was looking for. You emit the most divine of screams, the perfect blend of pleasure and pain. Hongjoong can't help but to smirk when he sees how your bottom lip trembles and your eyes fill up with tears again all the while never stopping your hips snapping against his. 
“Say thank you” he orders, putting both of his hands on your thigh keeping them nice and parted, eyes only ogling the way your hungry little cunt swallowed him only to spit him out covered in your slick seconds later and do it all over again and again and again. 
“Thank you, sir” you whine. “Please another one, sir” you ask, mind slipping back into an indiscernible fog. Hongjoong cocks an eyebrow in surprise at your sudden request. But he’s pleasantly surprised by your obedience and devotion.
“What a pathetic little pain slut you are, y/n” He lands another slap just as perfectly aimed as the previous one making you moan and finally making the precious tears spill from your eyes at the mention of your name.
“Such a good little fuck toy, asking so nicely. Good girls get rewards, right doll?” Hongjoong says as he starts to draw small circles on your throbbing clit with his index and middle finger. 
“Oh my god. Th-thank you, Sir” you whine, more large tears rolling on your heated cheeks. The pleasure makes you eager to chase your high and you find yourself bouncing harder on Hongjoongs’ cock. Not even realizing Jongho creeping up behind you again.
“Sir, can I please cum?” you ask, feeling your high dangerously nearing as you feel your walls tighten around Hongjoong’s length and your clit throbbing under his touch.
“You’re an eager little whore aren’t you?” the voice of the youngest resounds behind you. When you turn your head he pushes on your shoulder making you fall forward onto Hongjoong’s chest. Hongjoong chuckles as Jongho gets on his knees and shimmies himself between the older man’s legs. You still yourself completely when you feel him rub his tip around your rim.
Without even another word he shoved his whole cock inside your available hole in one thrust, making you moan into Hongjoong’s ear.
“Now be a good little cocksleeve and stay still while we fuck you stupid.” Jongho ordered as he was slowly pulling on his length while you felt Hongjoong squirm beneath you and plant both his feet on the ground only to thrust up inside of you at the exact same time as Jongho.
You can't help but scream-moan as the two rods inside you grind against each other. You plant your manicured nails on Hongjoong’s shoulders, almost to the point of drawing blood making him arch his back and chuckle at the dull pain.
“Fuck yes!!” you cry out, hanging your head on Hongjoong’s shoulder as they move in unison to rearrange your guts. 
“That feels good, doll?” Hongjoong asks, continuously fucking his hips up into you.
“Yes. Yes. Yes, sir. I fucking love it” you say through gritted teeth trying your hardest not to let yourself cum from the sheer pressure the both apply in turns to your sweet spot.
“Yeah” Jongho added from behind you. “You love two cocks fucking you up like this?” He said squeezing your ass, nails digging in the supple flesh of your raw cheeks. 
“Yes Sir. I love both your cocks” you reply.
“Two cocks at the same time is the bare minimum for a whore like you right, baby?” he asks, landing a harsh slap on your bum. 
“Oh my god. Please can I cum now?” you ask in a strangled moan, knowing well enough by the way your pussy and ass are throbbing you won’t be able to hold back much longer. You are desperate for your release.
“Beg us for it.” Hongjoong said, his hands holding your waist down.
At this point you've lost consciousness of everything that isn't the two cocks slamming inside you right now. You can’t remember anything except for the unbearable pleasure you feel, making your walls clench and your center gush with wet and slimy arousal, coating the two man fucking you into your next life right now. If anybody asked you, you couldn’t even remember your own name. At this point you would do anything, anything at all, to finally grasp your climax. You only want one thing and it is to finally cum around these two cocks. And if you have to beg for it, so be it.
“Please. Please. Sir. Please let me cum for you. There's nothing I want more than to show you how I shake and scream for your cocks. Wanna cum for you, wanna give you the best show. Wanna make you cum inside my throbbing little hungry cunt” You struggle to say between moans, your voice interrupted by the incessant carousel of their thrusts inside your tired and shapeless little holes.
“Go ahead, doll. Cum.”
Finally you let go of that pressure building in your core, the burning pleasure spreading into your limbs and making you shake. Your cunt and ass violently throbbing and clenching on Jongho and Hongjoong. You cry and moan as tears of relief roll down on your cheeks.
“So fucking pretty cumming on our cocks, doll” Hongjoong praises as his hips become sloppy. “Want me to fill your pretty little cunt with my cum?” he asks, teeth grazing your ears. 
“Yes please, sir” you reply in a sob, your orgasm continuing to rip through you.
“Fucking take my cum deep in your ass, fucking whore” Jongho demands a he releases inside your throbbing little hole. 
“Yes Thank you sir”  you cry out, your ass clenching around the younger one’s thick cock. 
“Fuckkk” Hongjoong grunts as he finally cums inside you filling your wet hole with hot cum, the thick slimy and white liquid spilling and dripping down, joining the existing mess on the carpeted floor. 
The three of you ascending to your peaks at the same time in a beautiful unisson of moans and grunts. Until they gradually stop their hips smashing into yours. For a couple of minutes you all just lay there to catch your breath, all piled on top of each other. 
After that you barely have enough time to summarily wash up (meaning roughly wipe away the smudged makeup, cum and sweat with a hot towel and hop back into your former uniform) before you have to fasten your seat belt again. 
The descent is smooth, in this general euphoria there’s nothing awkward left between you and the members. After being so intimate with each other there’s no place left for embarrassment or discomfort. You are even able to crack a few jokes and communicate light heartedly. Except for the stain on the carpeted floor and the remnants of your endeavors in your hair there was no way of knowing what had happened between all of you only minutes ago.
As they disembarked the jet Hongjoong gave you one last small paper bag. He insisted that it was more than well deserved after the service of the highest quality you provided.
“Really I insist” he says, pushing the small bag into your hands. “Please take this and open it as soon as you get the time” he says before glancing back at his members waiting for him a little further already geared up with the beanies, bucket hats, sun glasses and masks. 
“Thank you very much” you said bowing your head respectfully. “Thank you for choosing Air France, we hope to see you soon” you said waving goodbye at them while they disappeared in the elbowed tube.
You sat on the bench and opened the small bag to find huge stacks of cash in 500 euros bills. Your heart almost looped in your chest and you thanked yourself to have chosen to sit before opening the final gift. You found a small card inside it.
We wanted to get you enough that you could retire if you wanted to. But we really hope you don’t ;)...
See you soon y/n.
-8 makes 1 girl cream, ATEEZ
ps: it was Mingi’s idea.
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you read the whole thing and you survived please answer this poll? it would help me so much! <3
a/n: so?? how was it?? honestly im so so happy to present that to you finally! i've had this idea first since 2020 and it took 3 whole years for the idea to be shaped into something that i could actually write then actually taking the time to write and edit and publish... so pleaseeee tell me you enjoyed if you did. in the comments or in my asks if you wanna stay anon 🥸 (especially if you read the watersports and you liked it. im scared about publishing something like this so reassure me pls <3). you really have no idea how happy it would make me if you left a nice comment. honeslty just come fuel my praise kink please 🥺. And reblogging would be really great too <333 that being said im thankful you read it wether you choose to react or not and ily <3
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corrodedcoffins-blog · 2 months
Text
Meet the family
luke hughes x actress!reader
note: sorry it took so long but im happy i waited until i really liked it!
word count: 1.6 k
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Going from New York to Michigan was not a long flight by any means. But going from Scotland to New York to Michigan in less than 70 hours was quite the heat, even for Y/n. It was around 9:00 pm in Michigan by the time Y/n arrived. She could have stayed in New York for the night, but when the other option was seeing Luke, she will always choose that option.
She was walking out of the airport now, looking around for the car Luke said he would be in. She spotted the type of car twice already, being let down both times when neither contained her boy. Finally she spots the head of curls, glad he clearly hasn’t seen her yet as she drags her suitcase behind herself. Clearly hearing the loud sound of the wheels on concrete Luke’s eyes shoot to where the sound is coming from to see what crazy manic is running in a parking lot, only for him to find out it’s his crazy maniac. 
When she’s close enough Y/n drops the bag and jumps into the boy’s arms, her sweatpant clad legs wrapping around the tall boy’s hips, his hands dart to the back of her thighs in order to make sure she doesn’t slip off him. Tugging her up to wrap her legs around his torso now and her face buried in his neck. Leaving soft kisses and taking in the distant scent of his cologne.
Mumbled against his neck, her lips tickling the boy, Luke can just barely make out the words; though he knew what they were given he felt the same, “I missed you.” “I missed you too, and I love you. So much.” He replies, talking into her hair. “I love you too.”
After a few minutes, and a car honking, the couple finally broke away from the hug. Luke lifted her suitcase into the back, as well as opened her door like the gentlemen he was. They talked back and forth and catching up with one another, what they hadn’t already said over their many calls, texts, and facetimes.
“I’m excited to meet your family. Do you think they’ll like me? I mean I know you’ve said that they know of me and like me, but that’s as who I am to the public. Have you told them anything about me me?” 
“I’ve only told them that you’re my girlfriend, though they didn’t believe me which I don’t blame them for because sometimes I don’t believe it. And the last day or so they’ve asked constant questions.” “Like what?” “Like if I love you” he says in a teasing voice, as if he just wants to mention he loves her any chance he gets, “Did you tell them you do?” “Yes.”
-
Luke opened the front door, allowing Y/n to go inside first while he drags her suitcase behind them with one hand and leading her in with his other hand on the small of the back. Kicking off his shoes he calls out for his family until he hears laughter coming from the backyard. Showing the girl to his room, he let her put her stuff away and into more comfortable clothes, before meeting his family.
Luke walked into the backyard first, pulling Y/n by their joined hands behind him. It was Dylan who noticed the couple first, elbowing Ethan and Rutger who got to the house last night.
“Oh- fuck!” Ethan’s words got the attention of the rest of the group, heads turning to face the back door the two were walking away from now.
“Hi! I’m Y/n.” The girl awkwardly waved, Ellen could tell the girl was nervous so she jumped up to greet her, smiling when she saw her son’s hand in the girl’s. “Hi, Y/n, I’m Ellen. Luke’s mom.” “Oh, of course. He’s told me so much about you!” The older woman brought her into a quick hug, shocking the girl even after Luke warned her. “And this is my husband, Jim.” Said man shakes the girl’s hand from his seat. “And Jack and Quinn.” She said as she pointed to the respective boys, “Mom-” “Okay, Lukey! I was just trying to make her comfortable.” The little interaction between Luke and his mom brought a smile to Y/n’s face, finally getting to see her boy in his natural habitat. 
-
The night couldn’t have gone better, in everyone’s eyes, though Luke could have gone without a few of the embarrassing stories his brothers and friends told. Quinn noticed, when Jack was telling a story of young Luke having a massive crush on his now girlfriend's many on screen characters, his little brother’s hand searching for the girl’s playing with her fingers and her rings. It was those little moments that made him realise the seriousness of the relationship that he hadn’t heard of until three days ago.
Long gone were the days Luke would tell his brothers every little thing, needing advice on every decision he made. He was grown, got into a serious relationship without his brother’s input, with a girl perfect for him. Who had been begging to meet him and Jack as they heard on the facetime. And when the girl got up to help Ellen in the kitchen, Luke sweezed Y/n’s hand and watched as she walked up the backstairs talking to their mom, as if he couldn’t bear time away from her.
“I still don’t fucking belief it.” Dylan said, causing Luke to roll his eyes while he mutters something about Dylan under his breath that causes Rutger to laugh.
Quinn, deciding to break it up before it starts, says from across the fire, “I like her. She’s good for you, Lukey.” “Yeah. And she’s not what I thought she would be like.. In a good way.” Jack piggybacks on Quinn’s thought. Light red invades Luke’s cheeks hearing his brother’s approval of the girl he loves and cares for so much, even more so when Jim adds, “She fits right in with us. Glad to welcome her to the family.” 
-
“I’ve never seen Luke like that before.” The woman’s words bring a smirk to Y/n’s face, hearing his mom say it solidified Luke’s words of ‘never being this in love before’, “I mean, he’s never brought a girl here-” “I didn’t know that.” “Oh yeah. Never to the lake house, he’s always said Lake house was family and friend’s time.” Her smirk turns into a full on grin at that.
“That’s how I know he really loves you.”  
-
Y/n woke up to the subtle bumps of Luke’s nose against her neck as he adjusted his position to curl further into his girl. The feeling of strong arms were warm around her torso, fingers tracing different shapes onto her skin, after a moment she realised he was writing his name. Turning to her other side to now be facing Luke, the girl brings her own hands to trace up and down the boy’s bare chest.
“Good morning.” “G'morning, darling.” Luke replies in his deep and raspy morning voice while his body shivers slightly at the feeling of the girl’s light touch.
After laying together as they woke up, the couple finally started getting ready for the day, the boy grabbed her hand as they made their way downstairs. Reaching the bottom they saw most of the boys in the kitchen eating the pancakes Ellen made this morning before she and Jim left for the day.
“Morning, love birds!” Rutger got a smack upside the head from Luke for that one.
As the couple got their food and sat at the table the other boys were going over the plans for today. Something Y/n didn’t think they really had to ‘go over’ as they were just spending all day on the lake.
-
The idea of spending all day on a boat with her boyfriend’s friends and family she's just met, the possible awkwardness that there was no way of escaping was scary. But the day was going great, Y/n was only nervous for the first few minutes plucking at her nails Luke quickly noticed, grabbing her hand so she wouldn’t be able to any longer. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by his older brother’s.
Y/n was in a deep conversation with Trevor and Cole about what it was like to film the All Too Well short film, Luke, having heard all about it before, was zoned out twisting the girl’s hair around his finger as he listened to her voice. Every once in a while he would add to whatever his friends on the other side of him were talking about, but most of his attention went to the girl.
It was Jack this time that threw the pop can tab off his beer at his older brother who was driving the boat, getting his attention and directing his eyes to their little brother’s actions. Seeing their little Lukey staring at the girl he had a crush on since he started liking girl’s with the biggest heart eyes as she talks to his friends, with so much love in his eyes they knew she was the one.
There was no way, no matter what they went through, if there were hard times and rough fights, they would make it through it. You didn’t have the love they had for each other for just anyone, this was special.
Luke was grown. He had effortlessly found his one at age twenty, really fourteen if you think about it, and his brother’s couldn’t be more happy for him.
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jaylaxies · 2 years
Text
PING! WE SHOULD FUCK
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PAIRING: jake x fem!reader
GENRE: smut, fwb, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy), fluff, angst, fingering, choking, spanking, masturbation, cunnilingus, mentions of nicknames and food, jake has a twin sister, lmk if i missed anything!
SYNOPSIS: trying out tinder was a random thought you had, not expecting to see your best friend’s twin brother there. feeling bold, you swiped right on his profile, never once thinking that he’d do the same and text you right after, to which, you didn’t reply, well knowing that you’ll have to face him the next day for your sleepover with his sister at their place.
WC: 6.5k+ words
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, angels <3 im back with a jake fic! the idea popped up in my mind so randomly but i had to write it down even though i rushed it a bit :3 i hope you guys like it! all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated <3 i hope you guys enjoy it! iloveyou all <3
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“Five days? You're kidding me,” your friend deadpanned, blowing air on her fingers as she finished applying another coat of nail polish on her perfectly oval shaped nails.
“I swear! It's been so long, I really need to get laid,” you sighed, painting your own nails with a pout on your face.
To say you were a sex addict would be an understatement. You had recently gotten out of your friends with benefits relationship, simply because you got bored of his ways, it lasted for about three weeks — which was a long time. Nevertheless, you wanted something entirely new this time.
“I fucked Sunghoon yesterday,” Jia spoke up with a proud smirk on her face as you gasped.
Park Sunghoon, the best friend of Jake Sim, who was also Jia's twin brother. It was bound to happen someday, their eye-fucking wasn't very subtle, however, you didn't know she would go on with it. That's exactly what made it more exciting.
“No way on earth you just fucked your brother's best friend,” you chuckled, “that's something straight out of a fanfiction. Scandalous.”
She giggled, telling you all about her experience from the past night and you teased her for scoring that big dick. Meanwhile, you also kept thinking about what to do with your situation. Some options you had would include going to a party and having a random hookup with a stranger, or, reaching out to one of your old flings — which you wouldn't do in your sane mind.
“So, what's your plan next?” she asked you, lying down on her bed as you proceeded to lie down next to her.
“No clue actually. Maybe I'll have to take the matter in my hands for now,” you mumbled, staring at the ceiling.
“Does that mean—” she started.
“—the pink vibrator,” you both spoke out loud, giggling right after.
That was your best plan for tonight, since you were in no mood to go and fish for new boy toys.
Blowing a flying kiss to your best friend, you stepped out of her room, running into something solid, however, it wasn't a wall, rather, it felt muscular. A hand coming to your waist, successfully preventing you from falling down, your eyes widening in the process. You stepped back as the heavy scent of musky perfume invaded your senses, looking up to see none other than Jia's brother.
You haven't exclusively interacted with him before, he had been mysterious ever since you first met him, through Jia, of course. Other than the mere nods of acknowledgement, and a few stares here and there, you hadn't ever spoken a word to him, except for that one time you had thanked him for holding open the door for you.
This would mark as your second interaction, “I'm sorry,” you spoke before taking another step back, looking at his face.
Parted hair, hollow cheeks and plump lips upturned into a smirk.
“Don't be. I enjoyed it, babygirl.” He winked before leaving you standing there dumbfounded, the door of his room closing as you tried to comprehend what had happened seconds earlier.
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You'd be lying if you say that you didn't find it attractive. The result of the same being your legs wide open, paired with the same pink vibrator which had become your best mate from the past four days. You unbutton your blouse slowly, getting rid of your bra and cupping your tits, closing your eyes as you thought about being touched, a soft moan escaping your mouth as the vibrator stimulated your clitoris just how you liked it.
You whimpered, legs shaking as you pinched your nipples lightly, biting your lips to conceal your moans. The feeling was euphoric, also paired with distress as no matter what you did, you couldn't reach your high. You groaned, replacing your vibrator with your fingers, rubbing soft circles on your wetness, mind going back to what had happened a few hours back, the image of Jake's face popped into your mind and you didn't fight it.
Instead, you proceed to insert a finger inside your hole, gasping as you imagined it to be his thick finger, soon inserting another digit, pumping in and out while bucking your hips to meet your fingers, curling them inside of you. The highly vivid images of Jake doing those things to you helped a lot more than your vibrator did, a knot forming in your stomach as you increased your pace, thighs clenching as you wondered how deep his accented voice would sound in a situation similar to this.
With rigged breathing and shaking legs, your back arched, toes curling when you moaned out Jake's name, reaching your high with the release of your fingers being coated with your juices.
With weak legs, you stood up after a solid of five minutes, getting into the shower after turning the geyser on, letting the hot water droplets soak you up, you sighed, realizing what you'd done a few minutes back. Leaning against the cold shower tiles, you gently rubbed your body with a loofah, shaking your head.
You admit that it was the best orgasm you've had in two weeks, however, the fact that you had cum to the thought of your best friend's brother is what made your heart beat faster than normal.
With your bathrobe on and your hair still wet, you sat down on your bed with no intention of wearing your clothes just yet. You opened your Instagram only to come across Lee Heeseung's post, whereby he showed off his new girlfriend. Just below it, you saw a very vibrant advertisement of Tinder, your interest piqued all of a sudden as you clicked on it, downloading the application at once.
This is what you were going to do, find someone to hook-up with using a dating app, you hadn't ever done this before and naturally, it took you a few minutes to make an account and learn the basics of how the app works, making sure to select an equally sluttery and adorable picture for your profile.
You won't deny that it was fun to swipe left seeing some profiles with literal actors on their profile pictures, not to mention they also claimed to be those very actors. You also came across certain people which you judged, looked fine for your taste, however, they didn't quite reach your ‘I need them to fuck me' scale.
You sighed, almost giving up on this until this one profile made you sit up straight. It was as if the universe was hinting something at you when you saw none other than Jake Sim's profile being displayed on your phone. His picture was clearly alluring, his eyes focused on the camera and his tongue slightly out which, you'd admit, did make him look attractive.
You stared at the screen for a brief second before letting your thumb swipe right before you exit the application and switch off your phone, wondering if there was something wrong with you that day.
Grabbing your pillow, you screamed into it out of embarrassment, quickly searching for ways to undo the right swipe but a certain notification successfully halted your actions, eyes widening at that.
You got a new match! 😍😍😍
To your surprise, it was Jake.
He had sent you a simple wink emoticon paired with 'heyy', very typical of him. A half scoff-laugh escaped your mouth and you decided not to reply to the particular text, throwing your phone on the bed table, going to sleep with a newfound rush of excitement — excitement for your tomorrow's sleepover at Jia's place.
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The next day came by quickly as you woke up late, packed a little bag for your stay and you decided to wear shorts and a blouse for your visit, knowing that you'll soon be changing into your short silk pajamas once you reach her place.
It was eight in the night when you parked your car in front of her house, looking into the car mirror once before you locked it, ringing the doorbell and waiting for a second before the door opened to your excited best friend.
“Y/n, come with me right now!” she more or less dragged you to her room, locking the door before she opened the chats of her and Sunghoon.
“Oh god,” you breathed out.
“Right? He wants me again, how am I supposed to say no to that dick?” she whined.
She could have easily gone to his place. But sadly, she wasn't allowed to do so when her parents were out, since her brother was the one in charge.
“I can cover for you,” you spoke slowly, after a second of forming an idea.
That would give your friend a good fuck, whereas, you can simply make a move on Jake, if you run into him that is.
She turned to look at you “Wait, you can. But how?”
“I mean, I can lock the door once you're out and then I'll also make sure to leave the window lock open so that you can get inside in the morning without getting caught,” you simply said whatever came to your mind.
“That can actually work. Should I say yes then?” she got up, typing furiously already as you nodded, biting your lip.
With a satisfactory smile, she sat down next to you, theorizing that going at midnight would be the best choice since Jake doesn't come out after that hour. You smile and nod, happy to see her so giddy, also offering her a facemask as you put on a movie, watching it together, munching on the snacks she had gotten earlier.
“So, what are you going to do with your situation?” she asked, throwing popcorn in your mouth.
You chewed before answering, “I think I'll go to Yeonjun's party tomorrow,” you contemplate, almost lying.
“Ooh, I'll come with,” she decided, checking the time before rushing into the bathroom with an excited squeal.
You shook your head, watching her come out wearing a blouse and skirt, spraying perfume earnestly before she blew you a kiss, running by all the rules while you also reminded her to be responsible and to come back on time.
With a kiss on your cheek, she left and you noticed Sunghoon's car being a little away from the place, to prevent being caught.
You sighed, changing into your pajamas, making your way to the kitchen right after as you felt parched.
Opening the fridge, you found an unopened bottle of water, and a slice of pizza from earlier. The whole house was silent and the thought of Jake being busy, or not knowing about you being here, invaded your mind.
If that were to be the case, then you'd have no other option than to go to Jia's room and sleep.
“When someone sends a text—” a deep voice spoke near your ear, a tingle going down your spine.
You turned only to be trapped between arms and the kitchen counter. The scent was musky, the exact same which you had been dying to get close to since yesterday.
“—then good girls text back, don't they?” he stepped back, his eyes staring right into yours as he asked you the question.
Even in the dim light of the kitchen area, he looked stunning with messy hair and sleeveless shirt, not to mention how the grey sweatpants he wore made his waist seem even smaller.
Adrenaline rushed through your body and you tiptoed to his height, your nose brushing against his own as he held your waist to steady your figure.
“What if I'm not a good girl?” your lips brushed against his as you spoke slowly, “Then what, Jake?”
He chuckled, caressing your cheek with his thumb, your heart beating out of your chest as his hand travelled down to your neck, and towards your nape. He held on to your nape and pulled you impossibly closer to him.
“Then maybe I'll have to teach you a lesson, sweetheart,” he tilted your head, “would you like that?” he spoke out your name and you could only whimper out in a rushed agreement.
Soon, his plush lips meet yours in a kiss of urgency, your hand settling down on his bare shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh as you kissed him back with the same urgency. And suddenly, you were thankful that Jia went out.
Jake couldn't stop himself from feeling every inch of you, his hand going under your shirt, smirking when he noticed that you weren't wearing a bra.
“So fucking naughty.” he broke the kiss, whispering in your ear before he picked you up, placing you on the kitchen counter behind
you, his lips now moving down to kiss your neck, sucking on certain areas alongside, fondling your tits, squeezing them which elicited a moan out of you.
“Jake—” you breathed out his name once he unbuttoned your shirt, throwing it on the floor, his plush lips instantly working on kissing your valley of breasts, while you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging at the silky roots harsh enough to make him groan.
You found it hot how he was just as eager as you if not more, he stepped back and got rid of his own clothes, keeping his boxers on which did nothing to hide the outline of his hardened cock. You stared at him, cheeks on fire and lips slightly swollen. You noticed how his hair looked messier than ever, your eyes following his every move.
He tugged at your shorts, helping you out of them in a hurry, you bit your lip, spreading your legs on the counter so that he could get a better view of your glistening cunt.
“You're soaked,” he touched your wet slit with two fingers, making you shiver in an instant, “aw, princess. Are you that needy for me?” he bent down to place a kiss right where you needed him the most.
You gasped, feeling overwhelmed and wanting more of him, all of him.
He wastes no time in immersing his tongue into your pussy, licking and sucking as you panted, thighs shaking. He held them open with his strong grip on your thigh. Your eyes closed once the tip of his nose brushed against your clit. You felt ecstatic by each passing second, even more so when his thumb took the chance to stimulate your clit further.
“Jake, I'm so close,” you let out, and he stopped that very second, making you whine.
He licked his lips, looking at you right in the eye before he asked, “What do good girls do?”
“R—reply to texts!” you cried out lowly.
His tone got deeper as he asked you further, “Yeah? And what? You're gonna pay attention to me now?”
You were too out of your brain to get a better understanding of his last question, you didn't question it, nodding and saying yes, mind clouded with lust and need.
“I need words,” he urged, kissing your neck.
“Yes. Yes I will.”
“That's my good girl,” he whispered, positioning his hardened cock at your entrance, rubbing his tip on your wetness.
His words made your head spin in a good way. A lot of people had tried to talk to you that way, however, their words didn't affect you a bit. So, what made it different this time? Maybe it was his deep accent, or the fact that you had been craving sex from a few days now. Or, he was simply good at what he did.
It was easy for him to bottom out with how your wet cunt pulled his cock in, his dick stretching you out deliciously as you pulled him in for another kiss, moaning into his mouth.
He groaned, slamming his cock into you as he attached his lips on your tits, biting and sucking hard enough for it to leave marks by the next day. He acquired a faster rhythm, burying his length inside you while you held on to his shoulders for support.
His digits played with your bundle of nerves alongside, pulling you closer by waist in the process. You knew that you won't be lasting any longer than this and so, he increased his pace, spreading your legs further before you started clenching around him helplessly.
“S—so close,” you whimpered.
“Let go, baby.” He started to pull out, his own high nearing, but you wrapped your legs around his waist.
“I'm on pills,” you whispered, gulping down, “Cum in me, please?”
He had never been more turned on in his entire life. Your fucked out face, swollen lips and the innocent eyes begging him made it harder for him to hold back. He, in fact, didn't wish to hold back anymore.
“You'll be the death of me,” he spoke against your lips, thrusting until you reached your state of euphoria, his cum releasing inside you as you both rode out your orgasms.
You weakly called out his name, and you swear you could see his eyes shining before he bent down to grab his clothes, his usual smirk back on his face as he pulled you in closer for one last time, helping you down the counter and lightly chucking at your wobbly legs.
“Next time, you'll text back, right?” he raised his brows.
Your heart hammered at the possibility of him fucking you again, “Yes, I promise,” you breathed out, lost in his eyes.
“Good girl,” he praised once again, before leaving you standing in the dimly lit kitchen.
You cursed, admitting how it was the best orgasm you've ever had in your life, weakly collecting your clothes before making sure to clean the kitchen counter and going back to Jia's room, cleaning yourself up.
You were too tired to function anymore, sleep consuming you fast as you drifted off to the dreamland.
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By the time you woke up the next morning, Jia was home and fast asleep next to you, the sunlight was strong enough to wake you up, your legs sore from the pre-sleep activity you had. With a groan, you got up, looking at yourself in the mirror. You looked like a mess, and so, you decided to take a shower and change into the other set of clothes you got with yourself.
“Jia, you're awake?” you saw your friend sitting on the bed with a pout and half opened eyes.
She called your name. “My legs hurt,” she whined, making you chuckle and help her up, despite your condition being the same as her, if not worse.
In half an hour, you both looked a lot more presentable. Rushing down to eat, you guys found Jake with an apron on, cooking what looked like breakfast to you.
“Wake up, sleepyhead.” Jake flicked Jia's forehead and you stood there, seeing the twins bicker.
Jake looked so different from the night, the smile on his face giving his face an angelic glow and his eyes were soft, unlike yesterday, which were full of lust.
He served an omelet with bacon for his sister, soon coming to your side with a playful smile, “Y/n, you look sleepy, did you not sleep well?” he spoke and you rolled your eyes as subtly as you could.
Of course you felt sleepy, he had kept you up half the time and you did not regret it a bit, “I'm hungry,” you spoke, ignoring his question.
He shook his head, winking before going to set up a plate of breakfast for you and him, both. He joined you at the dining table and you three ate silently, scrolling through your phone, still you could feel someone's stare on you, and you very well knew it was Jake's eyes which were fixated on you.
Even when you were leaving for home, he was the one who walked you to the door. Jia didn't suspect a thing, lost in her own little world, giggling as she texted Sunghoon.
“Don't forget to text back,” he spoke in a low tone, almost pressing you against your car with how close he was, “princess,” he concluded, right near your ear.
You gulped, not wanting to admit that even his little gestures affected you a great deal. Not to mention how it was officially just the third day of your said interactions.
You drove back home with a tingling sensation down in your abdomen. Last night left you wanting for more, and so, you looked forward to more of your interactions, also waiting for him to text you.
The day went by as quick as the lightning, you focused on the completion of your assignment, having to submit it in the school tomorrow.
“Final-fucking-ly,” you groaned, stretching your body before you shut down your laptop and plopped on the bed, unlocking your phone to find new notifications, but only one caught your eye.
Jake:
Miss me yet? ;)
You shook your head with amusement, typing out a reply.
You:
What if I do?
Jake:
Then maybe I'll have to come over to solve that problem, bbg
You:
As tempting as the offer is, we have school tmrw </3
Jake:
Tmrw it is then ;)
That was the last text you got from him, and you were curious if he was trying to make this a regular activity. Going behind your best friend was something you'd never thought you'd do, but like you mentioned, the offer was too tempting to refuse.
You took a deep breath, ready to face whatever was to come tomorrow.
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You weren't ready for this.
Never in a million years had you thought that one of your fanfiction-esque fantasy would turn into a reality; courtesy of Jake Sim.
The day started off well, the clear sky and light wind made your morning mood instantly better. You reached school right on time, even getting coffee before that to function properly throughout the day.
Sitting with a random student, you pulled out your binder to make notes for that specific class, paying attention to everything your teacher said out loud before a small ball of crumpled paper hit your arm, you turned around in hopes of finding the culprit, but sadly, no one looked even a tad bit suspicious.
You shrugged, shifting your focus back on the lesson. Soon, the bell rang and you sprinted out of the class, the subject wasn't your favourite but paying
attention was the bare minimum. You stood in front of your lockers, stuffing a book back there before you shut it.
“Hey,” Jake spoke and you stepped back in surprise, clutching your chest before you slapped his shoulder.
“The fuck are you doing?” you whisper yelled.
“Exactly. What the fuck am I doing if you're still not pressed against the wall with my lips on yours?” he leaned in and you pushed him back, afraid of someone coming across you both being cozy with each other.
“We can't do it here,” you said, adjusting the strap of your bag and your eyes darting around the corridor, not meeting his.
“Right, we have to be at a secluded place. Follow me,” he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the parking area, which was fairly empty.
“Jake, I have a class—” you stopped once he turned towards you.
“Then you've got two choices, baby,” he smirked, “go and attend your class, or stay and let me fuck you.”
He pressed the door open button on his car keys, and you noticed that it was right behind you. The decision was yours to make, his tempting expression made you want to pull on his collar and smash your lips against his.
That's exactly what you did.
Soon, you were stuffed into the backseat of his car, windows fogged up and devoid of clothes, breathing ragged and his cock deep inside your cunt.
You had never been so grateful for tinted windows before.
“What do good girls say?” he urged you to answer, not moving.
You whined, “Please?”
“You're such a good girl for me, giving me all your attention.” He pulled out, slamming his cock inside your pussy once again and rubbed your clit alongside it.
Despite your state of pure ecstasy, you noticed this one word he spoke, ‘attention’ it was something he had used before too, and you were more than curious to know the reason behind it. Was it based on lust or something more? The question was sure to linger in your mind the whole day.
You hands tangled in his hair, holding his face close to your neck while he placed harsh kisses all over from your neck to clavicle as he hit all the deeper spots inside of you, growling your name as you both reached your climax, him nibbling on your earlobe before he collected your arousal with his two digits, tasting it right in front of your eyes, successfully hypnotizing you with his actions.
Chuckling, he swiftly pulled you on his lap and rested in the position for a while, your wetness close to his hardening cock.
He grabbed your chin and whispered against your lips, “Now that I've got a taste of you, I don't think I'd want to let go,” his tone was deep and breathless.
“Then don't,” you softly spoke, sealing the deal before he pulled you up and let you sink on his cock, taking you for the second time that very day.
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This feeling was foreign to you. It had always been you, the plans, the calls, it all came from you whenever you were needy. This applied to all your previous friends with benefits, however, this time was different.
You weren’t one to spend time them, or were available for them when they needed you for their own share of sexual fulfilment.
That’s precisely what you were thinking about while staring into the mirror, lips shaded with your favourite lipstick, clad in a skirt with a top that complemented it well. All this because of one person.
Jake Sim.
It had been a solid of three weeks since your sex escapades started, and in midst of that, you had somehow grown used to his ways, his mannerism and, of course, his golden retriever like charm. You vaguely remember the day it started, the day you gave up your own rules. Willingly.
It was quite a horrible day for you, nothing was going your way, from you getting soaked in the unforeseen rain, to forgetting your assignment back at home and the newfound announcement of one of your favourite local bakeries being closed when you craved something sweet; made your crankiness rise up to a new level.
It blatantly showed how you were in dire need of some kind of distraction, a release of some sort. And Jake unknowingly gave you just that. His text was simple, asking if you wanted to come over, also informing you that his sister won’t be home for the night — and you knew exactly why.
So you took your chance and rushed over to his place. It was as if he knew that you needed something rough, he asked for your permission once before grabbing your wrist with his veiny hand, getting you inside his bedroom and closing the door swiftly, pressing you against the same while his eyes darkened with lust.
You’d never forget that night, the room was filled with the mist of sex and desire, the noise of your skin slapping resonating while you gasped when he spanked your ass, gripping your hair to thrust in harder from behind. His filthy words filled your mind, you wanted him more than you’ve ever wanted anyone. And that’s exactly what helped you reach your climax.
“That was amazing,” you huffed out, rolling on his bed and covering yourself with the blanket, getting comfortable as you tried to calm your breathing.
“You’re amazing,” he spoke, getting in the blanket with you, eyes earnest as he said so.
You gulped, breaking eye contact once your heart started racing at the honesty of his words, getting ready to do what you always did after a session — leave.
However, he had the power to stop you with a single sentence.
“Do you wanna watch a movie?” he asked, eyes never leaving yours.
You simply blinked at his statement, contemplating where you should stay or not, counting the reasons you could stay, the first being the sour ache in your legs, courtesy of Jake’s powerful thrusts which drove you to your breaking point.
Second being the comfort of his mattress, you made a mental note to ask him the brand for the same.
Third being, well, just his company.
Three reasons were enough for you, and you were noddin before you could even think more, making him smile the widest you’ve ever seen. Your own lips curling into one due to how contagious his smile was.
You stayed up the night watching his favourite movie, again, you would have said no but instead, you found yourself getting intrigued by the story each passing second, the night ending with you two sharing the bed, lips faintly curled up. You knew you were doomed when you found yourself in his arms, his face the first thing your eyes witnessed in the morning.
To prevent getting hurt, you did what you had to.
You left before he woke up.
You thought you had dodged the bullet called feelings, however, you only craved his touch more, and when he called your phone the next day, letting you know that he’s outside your place, you broke your rules yet again.
Ever since that day, you found yourself hanging out more, not just for the sake of having sex but also in general. He joined you and Jia whenever you hung out together despite the insufferable bickering he had to go through with his sister.
In the span of two weeks, he accompanied you both to the amusement park, sneaking to make out with you at random times. He went to your place to give you the jacket you left in Jia’s room, only to stay back and have a little extra fun with you while fucking you in your bathroom.
That’s not all. Jake was a kind person despite his usual unbothered and cool persona. He was quick to prove it to you, he took care of you in ways that you wouldn’t expect him to, getting you food and also relieving your stress in his own way. You got to witness the cuter side of him, learning how he’s scared of ghosts and you kissed him on the cheek that day, finding him adorable with his blushing face.
You wanted to spend each second of your day with him.
Which brings you back to today’s case. You were going to their place, Jia not being home again and you wondered why you had put so much effort just to meet him, knowing that you’ll look absolutely smashed once he’ll be done with you.
That wasn’t the case though. He had pulled you in with a smile, not forgetting to kiss you right on your mouth. It felt domestic, and you hated how your knees felt weak at his gestures, you didn’t know that his own heartbeat was faster than usual when he asked if you would play video games with him, even more so once you agreed.
“You’re so bad at this,” you laughed, getting the hang of the game.
“No! I’m just being nice and letting you win here,” he argued.
He was simply bad at it.
Just then, you won again with a celebratory sign showing on the television screen and you jumped up, genuinely smiling and wrapping his arms around him, only for him to hug you back tighter, his hand on your waist pulling you close, increasing the proximity.
You stilled, breaking the hug but his hand didn’t move an inch, keeping you in place. He called out your name in a whisper, giving you goosebumps.
“Yes?” You softly asked back.
“You’re so pretty,” he spoke in that very tone which had your heart racing, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek.
You didn’t say anything, already conflicted at the realization that you liked him. Further, you were taken aback with his next words.
“I’ve always thought you were so pretty from far, but once I came closer and saw you in a more intimate manner, I knew I was fucked,” he confessed softly.
“Wait, what do you mean?” You asked with wide eyes.
He chuckled, capturing your lips in an impatient kiss, his hand cupping your cheek lightly.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, wanting him to be closer than ever, lips moving in sync with his as he deepened the kiss.
The door opened that very second, revealing Jia with widened eyes and a clenched fist.
You stepped back in a frenzy, shaking your head as you walked towards her. Jake rolled his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek before looking away.
“What the fuck are you doing?” She screamed.
“Jia, I can explain—”
She scoffed. “No. You can’t. It’s so low of you to go behind my back to fuck my brother.”
Your eyes widened at her sentence, guilt filling up your body. Despite that, you decided to stay mum and not call her out for fucking Jake’s best friend.
“Just listen to me once,” you begged.
“Leave.” Her words were final.
Your shoulders slumped, and you made your way out despite Jake calling out your name desperately, tears welling up in your eyes. Midway down the stairs, you remembered how you left your phone back in his room, walking back to get it.
“Shut up!” You heard Jake scream once you stood outside the room, you had never heard him scream before.
“So you think I don’t know that you’ve been fucking my best friend all along? Guess what? I don’t fucking care. Do what you have to and let me do what I have to.”
“H—how did you know?” Your friend asked him and you felt bad for causing an argument between the twins.
“I saw you the other day,” he sighed, voice getting lower as he spoke the next words, “why would you do this, Jia? I’ve liked her for so long, this was my chance to be with her and you ruined it.” You heard him speak.
You covered your mouth with your hand at the confession. You didn’t like to evesdrop, but you couldn’t help it either, your cheeks heating up as you heard him speak more.
“No. Actually, like won’t be the correct word here. I’m in love with her,” he told Jia.
You couldn’t stay anymore, leaving your phone there as you quickly rushed down to leave. You didn’t want to leave Jake, not when you felt the same way for him. Crying in your room was the best option for you at the given moment, you didn’t regret being with Jake and also wished for your time together to have been longer, you held yourself for an hour as you cried.
A sudden doorbell made you rush down the stairs and you found Jake standing there with a guilty faced Jia. He saw your crying state and engulfed you in a hug, which only made you cry further into his neck, he held you for a few minutes before you broke the hug and looked at Jia, tears streaming down her face.
“Y/n,” she called out weakly, “I’m sorry.”
You looked at Jake and he nodded before you both pulled each other in a hug. She constantly kept apologizing and you stayed quiet, not knowing how to handle the situation.
“I know I’ve been a hypocrite, I’m so fucking sorry to you both,” she looked down, “Jake is right, you two should be together,” she smiled at you.
“Jia, it’s okay. It must have been shocking for you, I understand and I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Your words made her cry more.
Jake held your hand through it all, letting you know that it’ll soon be okay for everyone.
That night, Jake decided to stay with you as you held on to him dearly. Also staring at him with heart eyes which made him laugh and look away, a faint blush on his face.
“You okay now?” He softly asked, and you nodded.
“Jake,” you licked your lips before looking him in the eye, “I heard you earlier.”
“What?” He looked at you, scared that he’ll be rejected.
“I swear I wasn’t trying to listen to you guys, I needed my phone which I left in your room!” You explained.
“Oh,” he bit his lip, “I understand if you don’t want—”
“I love you.” Your words made him look up with wide eyes.
“Princess—”
“I really do,” you gulped, cupping his face, “I want us to be together.”
He smiled, eyes watering as he pulled you in a deep kiss.
“I love you,” he spoke against your lips, you both smiling, “Y/n?” He called out your name and you hummed, “let me make love to you.”
Your breath hitched at his words, you rubbed your nose with his before nodding and kissing him with a smile on your face.
He looked at you with the most gentle expression, helping you get out of your clothes while kissing every inch of your body. His full attention on you, his eyes fixated on your face as he memorized each of your expressions while he touched your wetness slowly, your fingers digging on his shoulders as he stretched your pussy out with his two digits.
You called out his name with need, and he only kissed you more, his lips soft against yours as his hands caressed your breasts. He quickly separated for a second which caused you to whine, him gathering his precum on his thumb before pumping his cock a few times, positioning himself on your entrance.
Jake thrusted in, placing kisses on your clavicle as he intertwined your fingers, he reached the deepest spots in you, the ones which no one had reached before and you were on cloud nine. His thrusts were perfectly angled, sharp and hit your g-spot — turning you into a moaning mess in his hold.
His hair matted against your forehead made him look even prettier and he saw you staring at him, pulling you into a kiss as he thrusted in harder.
“Don’t look at me like that, princess,” he groaned.
“Like what?” You asked, breathless.
“Like I’m your whole world,” he said and you looked away while he laughed in the crook of your neck.
He rested his forehead against yours when you were close, your mouth opening to tell him something at the same time as his mouth opened.
“I love you,” you both spoke together, reaching your climax together before you smiled, kissing each other deeply.
“You are my whole world,” you spoke up and he shook his head with yet another smile, pulling you on his lap before hugging you closer.
You had never felt happier and were so grateful for the text Jake had sent to you that day, which made you realize one thing that —
Love was the prettiest thing you could ever feel.
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THANK YOU FOR READING!
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4K notes · View notes
fairykazu · 4 months
Text
subtle warning ft. lyney
cws: best friends, pining, ooc, jealousy
masterlist :: note: clearly i have a type when i write
best friend lyney who very "subtly warns" every person you try to pursue behind your back. when the person you were hvaing a thing with failed to come to the second date, you were so confused because you two had hit it off.
bzzt! your phone went off, you checked the notification, "what the hell? this is the second guy who blew me off, lyney." you complained as lyney hid his smirk.
"what happened?" lyney asked, faking his sincerity. he sat next to you on the couch. he knows all too well that he was the reason why your dates flake out.
when your date was waiting for you at the front door, picking you up for the first date. of course, lyney was there to help you out for the outfit and the security of somebody being there. "hello, name's taking a while to get dolled up... so, are you the guy name is going out with?"
"yes, im taking them out to a movie theater date." he replied. lyney analyized this guy, taller than him that's for sure, blond hair and red eyes. although this guy looks sweet, he doesn't look like he has the right intentions with you. he looked like he would ask you "where's my hug at?"
...
this guy isn't a right fit for you, are you getting a bit desperate? he's projecting, he's waiting for you to realize him as an option. "a movie theater date? that seems really... boring. y'know name would like a more exciting date than that." lyney replied, as the blond-haired male laughed, holding a bouquet of flowers.
not even the right flowers you like, didn't you tell lyney about you told this guy about it. what an idiot.
"then you take her to the date then." the date replied, laughing lightheartly.
i wish.
hurt by the comment and bruised from his ego, his eyes darkened. he began to laugh to a point it got uncomfortable. as the tension rose, "hahahaha, if you hurt them, a single hair of theirs taken out, i won't hesitate to kill you."
he cleared his throat by the time you arrived, his demeanor changed too. "lyney, are you talking it up with my date? don't scare him away." you joked. lyney smiled sweetly,
"of course not! right?" he asked to the date.
"yep..."
you went on to talk about even though, the guy was a bit of a wreck in the beginning of the date, it was fun for the both of you.
best friend lyney comforted you, rubbing circles into your back, "he probably didn't deserve you."
you sniffled, "you're right, lyney. what would i do without you."
he swiped a tear off your face, "i dunno, die?"
you hit him playfully, "what a way to ruin a moment, lyney."
157 notes · View notes
chrisevansonly · 5 months
Text
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧: 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: the day has finally come, and as a parent, you’ve never felt this amount of nerves before in your life…
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of anxiety, but other than that, fluff and cute family moments
𝐀/𝐍: AHHH here is chapter 7! You’ll notice there is a time skip as Matteo is now 7 years old, i did this because i don’t anticipate this series being SUPER long, so i hope that’s okay and you enjoy, im sorry if it’s bad, my writing has been bothering me lately🫶🏻
𝐖𝐂: 1K
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
There was no pep talk, family meeting or even conversation that could prepare you for today. Matteo had been restless all-night waiting for today, and now as you watched him with Charles and Arthur checking over his custom kart, a recent gift from his uncle Max, you couldn’t stop the slight smile that tugged at your lips. Matteo was looking more and more like Charles every day that passed, there were each others twins.
“How are you feeling?” A voice caught your attention from beside you, when you turned you saw Lorenzo had gotten back from finishing up all the paperwork
“Anxious…but seeing him so excited, it helps to keep those feelings aside”
“Maman felt the same when Charles and Arthur started as well, he’ll do great though, I just know it”
Never was there a doubt in your mind that your little boy would be amazing, you couldn’t wait to see him go out onto the track and race his heart out. Matteo was tenacious, he always had been, you see it at the track with Charles when he wants to help and sit in on meetings, and you see it now, helping his uncle and father make sure his kart is ready to go.
“Maman, es-tu prête à me regarder piloter mon kart!?”
Matteo was quick to run up to you, race suit on, helmet in hand, his eyes wide and bright with excitement 
“Oui petit prince, tu seras incoryable, je le sais!”
“Merci Maman!”
Leaning down you smiled, kissing his cheeks gently, bringing a hand up to fix his hair, Charles coming over to get his helmet done up and ready 
“Be careful and be safe okay my love? I don’t want anything to happen to you”
Matteo nodded 
“Maman don’t be scared, you shouldn’t be worried!”
“Matteo laisse maman s’inquiéter, ça montre qu’elle tient à toi, ce n’est pas une mauvaise chose, n’est-ce pas..”
The young boy looked up at his father and nodded, still learning that it was okay to show feelings and emotions. Ever since he’d turned five, there had been a few issues with hiding and being scared to talk about how he was feeling, so the three of you had been working together to remember that 
“Oui, c’est normal, je suis désolé maman”
Cooing gently at Matteo you pressed another kiss to his cheek 
“C’est bon bébé, amintenant va finir de te preparer avec ton oncle Arthur.”
Watching him run back to Arthur by his kart you stood to hug Charles, his hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly 
“He’ll be okay baby”
“I know.. I just-”
Charles nods, always knowing exactly what you’re thinking and where your thoughts are going, he’d always been extremely good at reading you 
“I understand, I’ll be with you the whole time, he’ll be great my love I just know it”
If you didn’t choose to think of the positive and agree with your husband, you think you’d spin out and think of every single worst possible option that could happen today, so you settled to agree and held Charles close as you both watched Matteo get into the kart and head out for his warm up lap.
-
The last lap of the race came faster than you anticipated, Matteo had fought hard and raced clean throughout the entirety of the competition, your hands were holding onto Charles’s arm almost in a death grip, but he was doing the exact same, especially when you saw him come around the last corner, in second, but pushing for first.
“Vas-y bébé, vas-y bébé!!”
You found yourself yelling, heart pounding out of your chest 
“Poussez Matteo, poussez-le, attrapez-la!” 
Charles yelled from beside you, both of you inching closer towards the barricade of the track, and moments later, Matteo pulled out and flew past the first-place kart, just in time to cross for the number one position. The feeling of pure elation spreading throughout you instantly, overshadowing the anxiety you felt before. 
Matteo had won his first karting race. 
“He did it, Char he did it!!” 
Charles couldn’t have taken you into his arms faster than he did in this moment, holding you tightly to him, never wanting to let you go, only pulling back after a few minutes to wipe his eyes gently 
“Oh my love, you’re crying!”
Bringing your hands up to wipe at his tears softly he smiled, leaning into your touch 
“I’m just so proud of him…and-and so thankful for you, for everything.”
Butterflied erupted in your chest as you leaned forward and press a kiss to his lips
“I love you so much, forever.”
“Forever.” He answered back softly, both of you snapping our of your little bubble when Matteo ran to you both screaming in happiness
“I won papa!!”
Stepping back in time for Charles to catch him as he jumped into his arms hugging him tightly. The three of you would have to head towards the podium within the next few minutes for Matteo to receive his trophy, but for right now, this was absolutely perfect. No one could take this moment away from your family, and knowing his grandma, uncles and your close friends were waiting just around the corner, made this moment even more special. 
Right here right now, as the three of you stood at the track, you knew this was where Matteo was meant to be, he wanted to be just like his father, and just like him he’d be. 
ʚlittle karter taglist
@goldenalbon @goldenmclaren@a1leexxa@treehouse-mouse @therealcap@wintfleur @lovrsm
english translations:
Maman, es-tu prête à me regarder piloter mon kart!? - Mom are you read to watch me drive my kart?
Oui petit prince, tu seras incoryable, je le sais - Yes little prince, you'll be incrediblem I know it
Merci Maman - Thank you mom
Matteo laisse maman s’inquiéter, ça montre qu’elle tient à toi, ce n’est pas une mauvaise chose, n’est-ce pas.. - Matteo, let mom worry, it shows she cares about you, that's not a bad thing right?
Oui, c’est normal, je suis désolé maman - Yes, it's normal im sorry mom
C’est bon bébé, va finir de te preparer avec ton oncle Arthur - It's okay baby, go finish getting ready with your uncle Arthur
Vas-y bébé, vas-y bébé - Go baby, go baby
Poussez Matteo, poussez-le, attrapez-la - Push Matteo, push go get him!
396 notes · View notes
leclercinvegas · 11 months
Note
Could you please do 37 and 22 with Oscar Piastri ? Maybe he’s ditched an F1 dinner to hang out w the reader ? thanks :)
OUTFITS WERE THE PROBLEM
who: oscar piastri x reader
author's note: hi i am alive, ive just been having a major writers block but im back.
summary: f1 grid dinner but oscar is staying home
You nor Oscar were big fans of crowds, large groups of people, or even large dinner parties. You both wanted nothing to do with them. But there was a dinner for the whole grid tonight, Oscar knew you didn't want to go but he asked you anyways, "My love, would you want to go with me to the dinner tonight?" Oscar would always ask just to make sure that you wouldn't feel left out if he went.
"No I'm okay, thank you for asking though!" you responded turning away from the TV and the show you're watching to give him a smile. You were all curled up nice and cozy on the couch watching TV with yours and Oscar's dogs. "I'm honestly pretty comfortable right here tbh."
Oscar smiles cheeks becoming slightly flushed, "Okay, I'm going to get ready. I may need your help picking an outfit." A sly smile grows on his face
You suddenly sat up with excitement, "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting. Are we about to have a fashion show?"
He laughs sweetly at your excitement, "Yes I am suggesting a fashion show, but it has to be quick cause I don't have much time."
"Okay!" you say in a excited tone as he walks into your shared bedroom and into the closet with you following behind him into the room and sitting on the bed. A few minutes later he came out with the first option. " You look too dressed up. Isn't it just a casual dinner?" He walks back into the closet to try on his next option. When he comes out you make a questioning face at him. "Do you really think a hot pink shirt and flamingo shorts would be the best idea?" He turns around again walking with his head hung to try on his last outfit. While hes trying it on you shout to him, "You know, you can stay home if you want to? We can just tell them you got sick or something."
When he comes back out of the closet he's wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. "I think that's a great idea. I didn't want to go anyways and it would have been boring without you," he tells you as he's moving towards you. He grabs your hand and pulls you into the kitchen. "So what's for dinner?" he questioned dropping your hand to turn to you.
"I never make dinner when you go out to these dinners. I just get take out." You say shrugging at him. He smiles and says, "Takeout it is then."
A little while after you ordered you both just sat on the couch enjoying each others company. The doorbell rang and he got up to go get the food and shouts as he's walking, "Put a movie on!" So you turn the tv on and go to Netflix to put on a movie. When he comes back with the food you're all curled up in blankets with the dogs besides you. He looks at you with the goofiest smile and says, "You're the only person I wanted to be with tonight."
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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year
Note
hiiii i love your headcanons about daily lifestyle moments with the monster trio🫠🫠🫠
how about them seeing their S/O waxing their legs or even their pussy? it could be funny
A/N: Haaaaaa thank u! I gotchu. Enjoy!
Monster Trio Watching You Wax (NSFW-ISH)
Black Fem Reader (…she calls Zoro the N word like ONCE)
CW: A bit suggestive, Mentions of PP🐔 and TooToo🐱, The Guys are a Bit OOC
Luffy
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Luffy can either be incredibly fascinated or does not care, however let’s go with the first option because it’s more funny to witness
You don’t usually wax your legs too often, but it was a rainy and boring day and it was about that time so you stuck yourself in your room and Luffy came running in partially wet and ready to annoy you.
“Y/N! Where are your pants you finna touch yoursef again?”
“Luffy!? No! And I told you to stop bringing that up…”
You explain to him you’re waxing your legs and your vagina and he doesn’t really understand why you need to do that.
“I like your hair, though. Feels good.”
“Please stop—“
“Why?! It’s so soft when I eat—“
“LUFFY, SWEETHEART PLEASE—“
He wanders around your room, eating your snacks and watching you wax and you finally finish your legs and you decided to kick Luffy out to wax your cooter and this man refuses.
“I refuse to leave.”
“You don’t have a Choice—“
“It’s MY ship! PLEASEEEE? I wanna watch—OH WAIT CAN I DO IT FOR YOU?”
After a bunch of begging you decide why not…I mean you don’t have too much hair down there.
You sigh, pulling down your pants on the bed and Luffy pushes you on your back and spreads your legs open.
“You’re kinda wet—“
“LUFFY!”
You guide him on how to apply the wax, and though he is messy he manages to not burn off your clit…
However he snatched it to harshly and you screamed
“My bad…”
“GET THE HELL OUT!”
Zoro
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“Why the hell are you shaving in here I want to take a nap—“
“Nigga, this is my room.”
He doesn’t really give af that you’re shaving, but when he opens his eyes and sees you take off your panties and he jumps up off the bed
“What���?!”
“Shutttt up i need to wax my pus—“
“WHILE IM IN HERE?”
“You literally seen it the other day—“
“THAT’S NOT THE POINT—“
You smile and offer for him to wax you and he flinched at your offer
“Oh don’t be a pussy—“
“DONT CALL ME THAT!”
He tsked, but agrees. You did most of the work putting on the wax and tape over it and invite him over to snatch it off.
“I don’t get why you do this stupid shit I told you I don’t care about the hair…”
“Just snatch it off!”
He snatches BOTH of them off with BOTH hands at THE SAME TIME.
Immediate tears.
“ARE YOU OKAY?!”
You’re in the curled up position on the bed trying not to scream so instead you flip him off.
Zoro pats your butt, “you’ll be okay.”
“NO IM NOT!”
He groans and leaves the room to come back later with an ice pack.
“What the hell is this—“
“Woman i told you not to wax—“
He’s trying okay he’s trying.”
Sanji
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You tell him you won’t be bothering him today because you wanted to wax and Sanji being nosey asks “Wax what?”
“My legs and my…um…”
….
“My lady…”
Sanji knew exactly what you meant because that’s what he calls your cooter.
He does a love struck smile and prepare you a tray of snacks and juice while you wax your legs. Once you were done you began to pull down your panties and that’s when Sanji bursted in.
“O-oh..”
He got a side view of you now bent over with your panties down.
Could not handle it he nearly fell off the ship.
After he clams down and apologizes like crazy for not knocking you let him stay if he wanted as you waxed.
And that’s when he offered..
“I can…I can wax you….if you want…I don’t —-I don’t want you hurting yourself…”
You hesitate for a moment, he has blushing like crazy, but his eyes weren’t filled with hearts…maybe he wasn’t trynna be too much of a pervert.
You agree and let him. He was excited to say the least. He never cares about your hair either, he just loved looking at your 🐱 honestly.
If you were able to ignore his heavily breathing and shaky hands he was pretty good at applying the wax and the tape.
“Okay I’m ganna rip it off, my love.”
“Okaaay.”
He does it and quickly puts his cold hand on the area (like how waxers do, and Pat it a little)
You were shocked he did that and smiled at him, he had some blood trickle when he was done and that was only because he couldn’t stop staring at it.
“Stop staring!”
“I—um…but…she’s so pretty…”
You’re not supposed to have sex right after a wax, but the way Sanji kept rubbing the sides of your labia you gave in for him to only soothe you after a harsh wax with his mouth.
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venuslcver · 1 month
Text
HIGH BY THE BEACH ⋆
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pairing: boyfriend!pope x carefreekook!reader
synopsis: your boyfriend, pope, and you had been together for a while when he changes his mind about not going to college.
tw: fluff, implied sex, profanity (no use of y/n)
any type of interaction including likes, comments, and reblogs is appreciated! but ultimately not necessary. let me know if im missing any warnings!
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“ok, baby! which one should i wear? this one or thissss one?” you questioned pope, holding two of your swimsuits in a display manner. one was a lilac-colored string bikini, the other being a cheeky, polka-dot one-piece.
you could never make a final decision for the life of you, only leaving it up to pope for his opinion. though, pope had known you long enough to know, whichever item you tend to show last was the option you had in mind. hell — most of the time you don’t even know that you prefer one option more than the others.
you wanted to wear the left one, pope concluded. no matter if it was clothing, makeup, nail color, or decor-related. not actually having input into the choices, he usually would just coax the answer out of you. it made it easier on him, besides he didn't give a fuck what you wore, because well... he would still find you beautiful dressed as the grinch. which you did a couple halloweens previously.
“uh… i don’t know — which one is more comfortable?” he asked, putting you on the spot, hoping to get an honest answer out of you.
clicking your tongue to the roof of your mouth in deep thought — lifting each and inspecting it. trying to remember if it was uncomfortable or not the last time you wore it.
“well i… mean. huh. why is this so hard?” you said truly debating both options. making your final answer, “i would probably go with the right one being more comfortable”
“probably… and i’m just sayin’ this as a thought…maybe it’s hard because you have too many swimsuits”
letting out an obnoxiously high-pitched scoff, you halted your attention from the bathing suit debacle to pope, who was leisurely laid back on your rope hammock swing that you had in your room. you never took kindly to anyone, including pope, criticizing your inability to get rid of things, especially your bathing suits.
“firstly, i don’t have too many swimsuits, and one could never have too many of them. secondly, even if i did — how could that possibly affect my ability to pick a swimsuit?”
awkwardly looking at you, pope reluctantly replied, “you can’t keep up with all of them, making you not even remember the last time you wore them… and the last time you chose the right one, you were complain’n the entire time”
ignoring his truthful statement altogether, you thought for a moment. he was right. the previous time, you ended up bitch’n the whole time about having to hold the straps of the one piece to avoid flashing innocent bystanders on the beach. which was the worst, considering the excitement that you experienced when in the water. flailing around without a care in the world.
a light switched when you came to this realization, noticing that you were rather harsh with your poor boyfriend, who did not deserve that in the slightest.
“oh my god! you are right!”, you said squealing, right into hugging pope’s sitting body.
taking his face into your hands, before hugging him again, “i’m so sorry baby! you know i didn’t mean that, right?”
staying firm in the hug, while he pulled himself out of the hammock, “yeah, yeah i know you didn’t mean it.”, pope said brushing your rudeness off. you and him rarely argued, and if you did, you were talking within the next half hour, easily.
looking up at him with doe eyes, and an innocent cast appearing on your profile. an all-knowing look that pope was very familiar with. one of the ways that pope and you were able to get over any kind of tiff was by admitting to being wrong and taking the proper steps to apologize.
for example, this one time pope got all panicked at the future and started freaking the fuck out. which led him to harboring that he was in the wrong and mishandled the situation at hand. before slipping his hand into you. well... two fingers but either way! pope was giving in that way, regularly lending a helping hand to you when in need. it wasn't an obligation as much as a want. you and pope were alike in that way. always willing to put others first.
"c-can i make it up to you?"
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sooner than later making it to the intended place of hanging out, the local beach on the outer banks. looking into the surrounding area in your eyesight, the beach was practically empty. a lot of spring-breakers had vacated the week before. having access to almost a completely bare beach.
you helped pope set up on the beach, before laying horizontally on his vertically propped-up body.
pressing a kiss on the crown of your head, that was in his lap. when he did the leaning down motion, you pushed the pineapple in your hand, to his lips. silently urging him to take a bite. to which he did.
immediately snickering when it ran down his face, halting laughter when it dripped onto yours. lucky that the acidic fruit juices didn't collect in your eyes. either way, pope was quick to wipe it off your face.
oftentimes, pope and you were silent when hanging out. you wouldn't per say it was a con, because it was due to being around each other every second, when not at work. though, when pope's dad, heyward, was short-staffed, you would offer a lending hand. taking a couple shifts, with pope. even, visiting each other at work.
along with packing an array of fruits to snack on, you also brought a weed. one of the conversations you had meant to bring up was the future.
pope was wicked smart, at least, school-wise. his choice of friends was questionable. and as much as you love your shared friends— they tend to be dumbasses. pulling pope down to their level. to which, a couple foul decisions led pope to not attend college— as he previously intended.
one late night, he admitted that he felt like "all the work he put in was sliding down the drain". which riddled you with resentment towards your friends. not that you cared what pope did. only that he was happy— which he wasn't at all for a passing time.
"pope? can i ask you something?"
"yeah— what's up?"
"d-do you have any idea what you want?"
"what i want?", pope asked, not understanding the question at hand.
"want for the future?"
looking at you bewildered, pope had no idea where the loaded question came from.
"uh — besides being with you, i have no clue.", a tinge of sadness rolled off his tongue.
grinning at his, rather, romantic proclamation, "o-ok, well, um i was expecting a little bit more of an answer, b-but that works for me"
"i-i'm worried... like really worried", he admitted.
coming off your high, out of your own fantasy land— that was induced by his heartfelt statement, "why?!"
still supporting his weight with one arm, he took the other and rubbed his face, "why shouldn't i be? i-i mean i was going to go to college, b-but now I'm just working at my dad's restaurant"
pope tended to self-destruct when his fears kicked in, sending him into overdrive. sitting up, looking at him directly in the face, "h-hey don't say that! one, you know that your dad would not keep you unless you were working your ass off! you're like the smartest person i know, out of anyone in outer banks, or hell, anywhere! a-and we'll figure it out."
set on helping understand that he and you would be good, you pulled a small baggie out of your beach bag, "ok?"
"o-okay"
"now, let's get high. and forget about everything, ever."
although he wasn't completely sure, he knew that you would stay by him, meaning he would be completely fine. if the world ended that day, he wouldn't have cared as long as he had you. well, and he would prefer if he had the other pogues and his parents.
74 notes · View notes
byuntrash101 · 1 year
Text
first flight to hongkong (freaky vers.)
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a/n: this the exact same story but with watersports. if you're not into this kink but still wanna read click here for the vanilla version (jk it's kinky but no watersports). if you are meant to be here. grab a seat and enjoy my little kinky freak &lt;3
synopsis: yes, you're suprised when your company offers you a vacant spot in the vip crew. but "surprised" doesn't cut it when you discover what kind of service your company provides the vips
wc: 18.3k
tags bellow the cut
tags: this tag list is looong so grab a seat sweetie...idol!au, a tad of plot, ateez’ love language is gift giving (yes it’s relevant), kink negotiation, color system safe words, flight attendant & sex worker!reader, dom!ateez (some are gentle, some are meanies depends on the member. hwa is both lol) gangbang, sir kink, impact play (spanking, kitty & face slapping), pain play, nipple play, use of toys, unprotected but safe sex (birth control + tested) (we love to see it), fingering (f), squirting, dacryphilia, orgasm control (f), overstim, slight corruption kink (they enjoy ruining you idk if it counts), very light foot fetish (yunho (pun intended) who this is about), marking, oral (f & m), deepthroat, praising, degradation (slut, whore), pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, good girl, doll, kitten, each of them kinda uses the pet name they like), anal, double penetration, mingi is big, yunho is bigger, so much praising, lowkey voyeurism/exhibitiosnim, brief mxm (woo jerks off san. ofc it had to be woosan), facial, manhandling, !!!!optional!!!! watersports (present in this version ♡).
a/n: this is an idol!au and it's taking place right after the break the wall show in paris. so hongjoong isn't blueberry yet (he's blonde) and mingi is pinkgi because i wanted him to be (even though the pink had faded completely by then). that being said im super duper excited to finally publish this. it's been such a journey for me please overlook any typos or mistakes and i really wanted every single member to get the spotlight and that's how you end up with 18k... but i garantee whoever your bias you'll see him in this. i hope you enjoy <3
DISCLAIMER: THERE IS WATERSPORT IN THIS VERSION FOR NO WATERSPORT VERSION CLICK HERE
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You check yourself one last time in the bathroom mirror of your Parisian hotel room. Normally your employer always booked you the smallest, cheapest hotels. But this time you have a beautiful room with a magnificent view on the busy Parisian and picturesque streets. You can even see the Eiffel Tower pierce the sky in the horizon line. 
You sigh as you look at your untouched croissant and coffee, they turned cold a long time ago. You lay a hand on your knotted stomach, you are not hungry. You are stressed. Actually, no. Stressed is an understatement. You are a nervous wreck. 
You fight the urge to bring your fingers to your mouth to bite your perfectly manicured nails, that were painted with a light coat of pinkish nude nail polish and instead tuck in a loose strand of hair back in your impeccably sleek low bun. The last touch up to make the rest of the look absolutely perfect. 
To go along with nude nails, you have light makeup focusing mainly on skin. High end foundation giving you the airbrush look paired with a peachy blush that complimented your skin tone nicely. Some very subtle contouring on your cheeks and jawline and highlighting on the bridge of the nose and above the cheekbones. And to finish it off mascara that elegantly elongated your lashes and underlined your gaze.
Before you slipped on the navy blue uniform over the beautiful white lace Balmain lingerie set. You sprayed a light touch of Banglore by Carven on to your chest, wrists, behind both ears and a touch on the crown of your head. The scent was very unique unlike any women's perfume you tried before. It was a contrasted scent of sandalwood and amber with a touch of vanilla that lingered to soothe the warm spices. It was balanced and elegant.
Regarding the lingerie, the luxurious white set fit you so well that it looked sewed onto your skin. The bra lifted your breasts and the panties sat very high on your waistline making your bottom rounder. 
You slipped on the light blue blouse and the navy skirt under a fitted blazer that matched the skirt. You also wore white thigh high tights. Yves Saint Laurent sleek black stiletto pumps. The shoes gave an elegant arch to your feet which was worth the discomfort. And last but not least the signature flight attendant beret, that had your company’s logo embroidered onto the side that read “Air France”.
You added to the look a very fine and discreet 24k gold chain around your neck and tahitian pearl earrings. 
And that was the completed look. At least this part of the request you could fulfill.
Because, yes, every single detail about your look today was requested and revised by your client. The jewelry, the lingerie, the perfume, the make up, the nails, the shoes. Everything was hand picked by him for you. 
It was your very first time attending the VIPs. Never in a million years you thought you would get there in your career but the rumor was that when the client was handed out the photos of the VIP attendants he requested to have the info of all the attendants the company employed and out if the hundreds of women he saw he picked you. So how could you not be stressed? This man (that was probably very influential) had set the bar really high and you on the other hand didn't have any past experiences to even wrap your mind around what was "setting the bar high" in this context. You were a total noob and you felt (you were) under prepared to cater the very specific needs of the VIPs. 
But after all, the company only offered the position to you. They never forced your hand. You could have said no. But the compensation that came with it was alluring to say the least. That added to the luxurious setting of it all. Getting to mingle with the rich and famous… even in that way… it tipped the balance towards the yes, to the detriment of your morals. But maybe you should have said no…
In the taxi from the hotel to the airport you couldn't enjoy the beautiful scenery of the maze of narrow and paved streets. You were too busy fidgeting with your perfectly manicured hands and trying vainly to swallow the lump inside your throat. 
You thanked the taxi driver and walked mechanically to the terminal, slaloming between the businessmen in between two flights and the lost tourists absentmindedly walking with their noses up and squinted eyes looking for directions.
When your feet hit the tarmacked runway making your heels click against it, you finally saw the aircraft away. It was unlike anything you worked with before. You were used to the huge boeings with the multiple rows and the numerous portholes but this one was a jet. The nose of the plane was narrow and contoured, the body of it was smaller but you could already tell from a distance, far more lavish.
You took a couple of deep breaths on the windy departure runaway to try to calm down. As you were climbing the steps that led to the jet you felt like your knees were about to give out. Thankfully your legs successfully carried you all the way to the clean and luxurious habitacle. 
Talking of luxury, you had never seen such a display of wealth before. Each individual booth was lined with immaculate white leather and stuffed with soft and cushiony material. You could only imagine how comfortable the seat was. Every single detail was impeccable. 
In front of the seat there was a bench where the attendants were meant to sit to wait for the customer requests.
"Hi" The pilot standing in the cockpit greets you. The sudden sound makes you jump. You muster a timid “hey” as a response. 
"Are you ready for the big leap?" He asks, wearing a warm, reassuring smile. 
"No, but I don't think I have enough time in this life to ever prepare for this so..." your words trail off into an awkward laugh. The pilot gently pats your shoulder. 
"Don't worry kiddo if there's anything wrong we're right here." 
"Thanks" 
"The info sheet is over there" he pointed at the small  closed off space, reserved for the attendants right between the VIP seating area and the cockpit. 
"Ready for the checklist, captain?" You heard the voice of the co-pilot ask from the cockpit.
"You'll be alright" he gave you a last confident nod before closing the door. 
And you find yourself completely alone. The space suddenly feels huge. You feel like you will never be able to fill it on your own. Maybe you bit off more than you could chew by accepting this? 
You shake your head to chase the doubts away. You should at least check the info sheet before panicking, you figure. 
You extend your hand to take the note sitting on a small counter next to a locker and a bench. 
On the paper you find your name, your company registration number and your photo. So far so good but it's nothing new. 
You read various info about the flight. Departure: Paris Charles de Gaulle. Arrival: International Airport of Hong Kong. The model of the jet and other details about the time of take off and landing. Still. There's not a single new piece of information to be found.
Then finally you reach the critical part. 
Client name : Ateez. 
You cock one eyebrow in surprise. That's an unusual name for a person. But somehow it sounds familiar…
There’s more information under “safe practices”: the client marked his wish for the service to be performed without physical barriers. All parties involved have been tested. 
You knew that too after the long hours you spent at the hospital yesterday. But the client paid extra just to be able to not use a condom. Fortunately you were already on birth control.
When your eyes glaze over the next title your heart loops inside your chest.
Service request. 
Under this you find a very detailed box list of various practices and... preferences. Many of which you'd have to Google to understand. Ranging from foot fetish to dacryphilia (one of those you had to look up). You didn't even know so many kinks even existed. But as much as you squint none of the boxes were checked. The list is entirely blank except for a hand written comment under "other". 
“To be discussed with the hostess.”
The hostess... that's you. 
The cryptic comment makes you somehow even more nervous. There's not a single piece of useful information on this whole entire form! The experience is already nerve wracking and the fact that the company is letting you figure this one out on your own is making matters much worse. You can’t prepare yourself without any information! 
Well… there’s the name at least, you reasoned with your irrational self. You scramble for your phone from your small purse and type the name in the url bar. 
You should have known not having to type the complete name for it to appear in the research suggestions was a bad sign. 
Thousands of found pages popped up on the small screen. The first one you open is your most reliable source: Wikipedia. 
Ateez (Korean: 에이티즈) is a South Korean boy band formed by KQ Entertainment. The group consists of eight members: Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung and Jongho. They debuted on October 24, 2018, with the extended play (EP) Treasure EP.1: All to Zero.
Wait… eight members...... your client is a GROUP of eight men?!?!?!? You click on the royalty free picture provided by the website. Somehow the 8 faces look familiar though you are sure you didn't know about them before today. 
Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach. Your vision starts to get blurry as panic wins over you. Infecting your body via the poisonous adrenaline the frantic organ pumps into each of your limbs. You stumble to sit on the small bench.
You knew the said client was filthy rich. Only the 1% can afford to request such a service from your company but you expected a politician or a silicon valley CEO... not actual celebrities. The kind that sells out arenas and stadiums, the kind that you see on billboards and that make the front pages of magazines.
Then the realization hits you like a train. You did see them before! You attended their flight from Copenhagen to Paris a couple of days ago. That also coincides with when the company proposed this promotion to you... You remember now but they wore masks you didn't get to see their faces properly and the company flies tons of influential people all year round. To you they were just the first class passengers and you took care of them like you would have with any other client. Yes they looked famous but you just didn't check... 
Now there was a difference between bringing them coffee and a hot towel and doing... whatever they were expecting you to do... which you still didn't have the slightest clue about. 
Now you are sure. You did bit off more than you could chew. 
You want to call off the deal. You should just call HR and just tell them to get somebody else on this one. Yes! Yes! You'll do that. There are plenty of other attendants that'd kill to be here so they'll find someone else no problem. 
Right as your thumb is hovering over the number of the HR department you hear rumbles and voices in the tunnel linking the terminal and the aircraft...
Looks like it's too late. 
You act in sole instinct and get up hurriedly, flatten your skirt and head with big strides to stand at the entrance of the plane like you would with any other flight. 
It's okay y/n. You'll be okay. You're always okay. This is just another flight. You've got this. 
You repeat those words in your head like a mantra. The silent prayer calms you down. You pull on your skirt and readjust your blazer, put on your best smile before you see the first shoe peeking up from the elbow of the tube. Followed by a colony of others. Sixteen to be exact, sixteen individual shoes. Yes... Eight. Eight men. 
It's game time. 
One by one the group boards the plane. You professionally greet all of them like you have with any client before. Politely smiling and bowing your head like you did thousands of times. All of them return the polite bow and despite their disguises you see some of them crease their eyes, letting you guess the smile curling up their lips under the masks, the beanies and the bucket hats concealing their faces. 
See? So far so good. You got this. One baby step at a time. 
Over the next few minutes you are able to calm down. You feel completely in control. You install the clients one by one in the separate and spacious seats. You make the final check of the luggage above the seats. Close up all the lockers and check that every passenger has fastened their seat belts correctly. You explain the safety procedures in case of an emergency. Then finally sit in your own seat, the little bench facing the VIPs while the pilot makes his announcement. When the plane accelerates to take off you are back into normality. Your heart has stopped racing and your hands are not clammy or shaking anymore. You no longer feel the need to nervously pull on your nails. 
You are in control. You got this. 
When the “seatbelts on” sign turns off you get up. 
"You may now unfasten your seatbelts if you please." You announced for all of them. And they all did. You saw them taking their jackets and beanies off, getting comfortable as you disappeared in the attending compartment to prepare the refreshments. When you pulled out the small tray they were all seated and had shed the clothes that were hiding their faces.
With each stop you make to pour the beverages you are astonished by their beauty, each member being more beautiful than the last one. You felt your heart flutter more than once when some of them thanked you for your service with a warm smile.
But as everyone is served with either a cool refreshing soda or a warm cup of coffee you can't stall any longer. You have to address the elephant in the room. You can do it as you would discuss any other subject, you tell yourself as a small pep talk. Just have to stay professional. 
You seat yourself in front of all of them and grab on a clipboard, a piece of paper and a bullpen. You cross your legs sideways, your skirt ever so slightly curling up your thighs, just enough to hint away at the white lace of your thigh high tights. Instantly their chatter dies down and you find yourself under the scrutinizing gaze of the eight men. 
"Now for the VIP service.” You speak as confidently as you can. “The form stipulated that the preferences were to be discussed with the hostess. Is there any particular request you'd like to make? Any preference you'd like to share?" 
"I think it would be more efficient to know what is off limits." The blonde one spoke. From what you saw online. That was the leader of the group, Hongjoong. 
You stayed completely silent, dumbfounded by the sudden change of dynamic. The client is supposed to state what they require from you and you are supposed to do everything in your power to fulfill their wish. 
"What are the no go's for you, sweetheart?" another one questioned when you failed to provide an answer in a normal, reasonable time frame. That one looked carved in marble, he had delicate features that looked hand crafted to perfection, beautiful long raven black hair resting on his shoulders which you could guess were muscular even under the thick black hoodie he was wearing. 
The pet name somehow made your toes tingle, sparking nervousness in your stomach again. 
"I don't know, the usual" you replied and immediately followed by an awkward laugh. Hongjoong smiled at you, Maybe picking up on the agitation showing through your micro habits. 
"What about submissive/dominant dynamics?" The blonde man kindly asked, giving you a clue on how to answer. "Would you be fine submitting to us?" 
At the question the tingles in your toes rose in your legs. To properly answer the question you had to imagine yourself kneeling before the eight men and the thought alone made you guts stir in something that wasn't just stress. You swiped your tongue on your lower lip in an attempt to pull you out of your thoughts. 
"Yes, that would be fine" you replied as plainly as possible. You spotted one of them smirk from the corner of your eyes. That one was also particularly handsome. He had sharp cat-like eyes that were piercing holes in you. The smirk grew bigger when you made eye contact with him as he was rubbing his chin with his index finger that was decorated by a simple elegant gold ring. 
"What about impact and pain play?" Another one asked. This one looked the tallest among all of them, even with all of them seated you could tell by how his legs bent, his knees sitting higher than the others. His face looked the softest among all of them so much so that it was hard to believe he could ask such a question with this benevolent expression on his face. 
"'Like spanking?" You manage to ask without squeaking or stuttering. Which was a miracle in itself.
"Yes, like spanking, slapping, pinching, hair pulling... All that good stuff." The tall one continues. 
"What do you say, doll? Would you like us to hurt you?" Hongjoong adds. 
You bite your bottom lip as you feel your insides quiver. Only managing to give a shy nod to the question. 
"Use your words, princess" another one intervened. This one seemed to be more mature than the others, he also had dark hair, long parted bangs tickling his lashes, very high cheekbones and a smile that could light up the darkest night, he gave off that aura of a shining star.
"Y-yes" 
So much for not stuttering... 
A murmur of approval collectively emerged from them. 
"And degradation and humiliation?" A deep voice asked, you looked over at the direction of the owner of said voice to find a pastel pink haired man looking right at you. He had sharp features, piercing eyes and a strong brow bone. When you looked at him puzzled he elaborated. "Let's say I want to call you my little slut, my personal little cock sleeve. Or make you bark before I let you cum. How would that sound to you?" 
You gulped as your mind instantly took you to the scenery. Your imagination sending you flashing images of sinful engagements between you and the group of men. Your guts stirred once again. You nodded and threw a glance at the previous man before quickly adding a shy yes (but still audible). Once again they emitted a quiet rumble of appreciation. 
You couldn't believe all the things that you were agreeing to. Sure you had some experience in sub and dom dynamics. Usually you liked to be guided and you let your partner take the lead. And of course you had a couple of light spanks before but that was about it. And the most surprising thing for you was that all of that sounded exciting. Everything sounded appealing to you. Everytime they asked you a question it stirred your stomach in a brand new way. 
"What about knife play?" Hongjoong asked. 
"No, I don't think I'd be comfortable with that one." You replied, almost apologetically. 
"Same for blood play?" He continued and you shook your head. 
"Yes, I don't think I'd enjoy that." 
"Spit play?" You shook your head again. 
"Well I-" Hongjoong started but was interrupted by the last member to speak to you today. 
"And watersports?" The man asked, his dark hair brushed over his forehead made him look maybe younger than the rest of the group but his unwavering gaze made him intimidating. 
Silence fell over the jet apart from the quiet thunder of the engine. You took some time to think. You were pretty vanilla in general and with all the things you agreed to you were already way (wayyyyy) out of your comfort zone. Maybe you should decline that one but at the same time it was intriguing, and the taboo practice felt alluring. 
"I think that would be okay..." your tone was everything but assured. 
"You think, doll? We need you to be sure" the blonde man pitched in. 
Again the pet name made you bite your lip. 
"No I'm sure... sir." A smirk pulled on his lips. While the rest of the group exchanged cryptic glances. 
"Well I think we covered everything. Guys?" They all agreed with their leader. "Also I see you got the little gifts we got for you" Hongjoong’s gaze slides down your frame to land on the white lace of the thigh high tights that was peeking under your skirt. The way his expression changed when he spotted the article made you swallow thickly. 
"I picked the lingerie set. White is your color, doll" 
You chuckled lightly at the compliment, feeling your cheeks heat up.
"Thank you" you smiled. 
"Yunho, what do you think of the heels?" He asked, turning over to the tall man. 
"Fit you like a glove. You look stunning in those” Yunho replied, giving you a warm smile. The comment made you nervously dangle your feet, which made his eyes instantly drop back to them.
"Wooyoung and Yeosang both decided on the nail color and the make up" both of them nodded in your direction at the mention of their names. 
"This red lip is beautiful on you" Wooyoung complimented while Yeosang stayed silent, only amicably smiling at you. 
"The jewelry is from Mingi" Hongjoong continued as the pink haired man raised his large palm up in the air. 
"The gray pearls really suit your skin tone and the gold chain compliments your neck line. I knew it was the right choice" Mingi's deep voice answered. 
"And Seonghwa is our perfume connoisseur" Hongjoong pointed at the man seated next to him. 
"The fragrance was an easy pick. Elegant and sophisticated, exactly like you" the astonishingly beautiful man shot a wink in your direction. Such a simple gesture, but the effect it had on you was completely uncalled for.
"San and Jongho came on the flight with their gifts." The man named San lifted a luxurious looking glossed paper bag. 
You got up straightened your skirt and retrieved it from him then Jongho seated next to him handed you a small case. 
"We’re going to give you time to open those too" Hongjoong said. "This flight is long. We'll have plenty of time to play together. In the meantime, we are going to get some sleep and rest from our tour. Our CEO thought we did so well at our show in Paris he personally booked this service with your company." 
"Thank you for trusting and choosing Air France" you bowed your head respectfully. 
"Oh no, doll. It's not about them it’s about you, y/n" your heart almost stopped at the mention of your name. "'When you attended our flight from Denmark to France you were absolutely perfect and we all collectively thought you would be the best candidate for the extra VIP service. So we were a little disappointed when the company said you weren't part of the VIP crew. But we insisted they at least ask you if that would be interesting for you and we were thrilled to know that you agreed." Hongjoong smiled at you so fondly. Almost like the previous conversation never happened altogether and the VIP service was nothing more than some extra room for your legs in the seat and maybe a wider range of refined liquor to choose from. 
"So we understand it's your first time doing this, right?" San asked. 
"Y-yes." You stuttered. "Yes it is" you said a lot more confidently this time. 
"Don't worry it's also our first time" the man grinned, cat-like eyes turning into little crescents as the smile spread on his face. 
"That's exactly why I'll be conducting the meeting" Hongjoong declared, making you peel your eyes off San to look at him. "From now on, you will refer to me only as sir. I know it won't be a problem to you as you used the title a couple of times in the conversation already. But still, do you understand me?" Last sentence was a lot more stern. 
"Yes, sir" you nodded firmly to emphasize your words, making him grin.
“The others are not as strict on the title. You may call them however you’d like. But I only tolerate that you refer to me correctly. Understood?”
“Yes, sir”
"Good girl" he smiled again but this time it was somehow not as wholesome and you took in a slow shaky breath to attempt to calm your heart that was hammering against your ribs. 
"During the rendezvous I'll be checking on you to see if everything is good with you. We'll use the color system." You nodded, listening attentively. "If everything is going well and you are enjoying your time with us when I ask you for your color you will say green." You nodded again. "If things are getting intense and you are approaching your limit you will say orange. At the word we won't stop but we will take it down a notch allowing you to breathe until your color is back on green and you feel comfortable again. If you are overwhelmed or if one of us does or says anything that makes you want to stop everything just say red and we will all stop. Right, doll?" 
"Yes sir" 
"I want you to know that you have full control over this. Under no circumstances you have to wait for me to ask for your color to share it with us. As soon as you feel that things are getting out of hand, say orange or red, okay ?" 
"Understood, sir" 
"Well then. Why don't you take this time to go open San and Jongho's presents while we take a little well deserved nap" 
"Yes, sir" you politely bowed and took your leave in the small reserved space for the attendants between the cabin and the cockpit. 
As soon as you close the door you let the stress of the conversation out with a deep sigh, pressing your back against the door and letting your head rest on it, the cold feeling on your heated skin keeping you in touch with reality as everything seemed so surreal. 
That was a lot to take in but somehow you didn't feel as nervous as you did before. Sure, there are eight of them. Sure, the conversation promised they intended to thoroughly... enjoy... the service but you feel like they value your safety and your comfort. You have a better understanding of the task at hand and no matter how complex and draining said task was going to be, knowing the boundaries of it was reassuring. You knew what they wanted from you. 
After a couple of minutes you used to ground yourself back down to earth (ironic isn't it?) You laid the paper bag and the case on the small bench. 
You undid the nice black velvet bow that was tying the bag together and took out what looked like a neatly folded uniform. But upon closer examination something looked off with the fabric. You unfolded the blouse. It was an exact replica of the light blue one you were wearing right now except it was made from fine mesh making it completely see through. You laid the article on the bench and unfolded the skirt. The length was ridiculously short and you know you'll have to walk up straight if you don't want your bum to be showing. But you guess it's the exact purpose of it. When you flip it too look at the back you know for a fact that the skirt was designed with the idea of exposing you in mind. You realized the navy blue cotton has two holes cut out to let both of your butt cheeks hang out of them. 
You lay the shirt next to the blouse. Deciding that this gift is a little intense and you'll get back to that one. 
You hand glazes over the case Jongho brought and you flip the attachments to open it. When you lift the lid you are greeted with a collection of different toys. All more colorful than the previous one. There's everything you could imagine. And more that you would actually need. You find a note that read “wear me” taped to a strangely shaped one. 
You grab the purple silicon toy and unfold the note. 
A remote control had been handed to each member. Please wear this one. For the other ones they're all yours pick the ones you like. 
You are hesitant for a second but this was exactly what you signed up for and it was our duty to fulfill the client’s wish. So you breathed in a deep slow and steady breath before carefully  slipping off your clothes. You were vigilant enough not to smudge your makeup and pull the wispy hair out of your sleek bun. You pull down the white thong just low enough on your thighs to be able to put the toy in. 
You almost gasp when you spot the wet patch on the lace, making the fabric slightly transparent. It's subtle but you can't believe you got this… excited from this simple conversation. Simply imagining the propositions they were presenting to you. 
You push the cylindrical part of the toy inside, biting your lip to repress a moan as the silicon easily glides inside you. The rest of the toy hangs out and lays over your clit. You swiftly pull the thong back up. At first you feel strange from this foreign object nested inside you but soon you grow accustomed to it. 
From the rest of the panoply of toys you picked out a simple decently sized metal plug that had a heart shaped pink gem stone at the end. You figured the rest of the ensemble will certainly look gaudy enough and you chose to disregard the various gag balls and nipple clamps. 
You put on the new uniform even going as far as to pin your name tag to the see through blouse. 
And the look is complete. The skirt is so small that it barely reaches the crease of your bum. Not that it makes a difference since the two holes leave little to the imagination. The lace of the thigh high tights are on full display and the same applies to the white lace bra underneath the see-through blouse. 
Saying you feel exposed is an understatement but still. You were almost at the two hour mark on this flight. You figure that the easiest way to deal with the embarrassment is to just plainly and simply ignore it. Go out there and work just as usual. And it's time to prepare the tray of refreshments. 
You step out of the attendant room to walk the central aisle to the back of the jet where the fridges and the carts are. You can't help but to feel a little relieved when you see the eight men wearing their eye masks. Maybe they aren't all sleeping but they are at least not seeing you like this, at least not right now. It buys you some time to get used to your new attire.
You prepare the various alcoholic beverages, the cold sodas and the hot tea and coffee before you take a deep breath. And push the cart in. There's only one member that the rattling of the cart seemed to have woken up, Seonghwa. 
With trembling hands you push the cart down the aisle to his level. 
"Can I get you anything to drink? Water, coffee, liquor?" You manage to ask in the most natural way possible. Careful to speak at an appropriate volume level to not disturb the others. 
"Coffee. Black, please" the handsome man replies. 
You take a cup and pour some scolding hot coffee for him. Your tensed hands around the cup betray your edge as you hand out the beverage, the dark liquid swaying in its recipient. But Seonghwa gently wraps both his warm hands around yours and around the cup. 
"Thank you. It's perfect" he gently whispers, looking at you with a reassuring, beaming smile that you return instantly. 
You push the tray back in, as it seems no one else is interested in a drink. When you go back to your seat that faces the members the help indicator lights up above one of the seats. 
"Sir, may I help you with anything." You asked San. 
"No" he whispered, careful not to wake up Jongho  sleeping between both of you since he was in the window seat. "I just wanted to say you look absolutely stunning. You wear the uniform beautifully" he held out something to you. When you opened your palm it was two shriveled bills of five hundred euros. You almost audibly gasped. Before you could say thank you he continued "I can't wait to peel it off of you later". You feel your knees getting weaker as San’s gaze gets sharper. You don't know how you manage to keep your composer as well as you do.
"Of course. Whenever you are ready, sir" you replied, as you felt your insides flutter under his scrutinizing gaze.
"Let's let them sleep a little first, kitten" you bit your lip at the pet name and you smiled back at him before going back to your seat to catch a breather. 
For the next two hours. The flight is absolutely uneventful and feels like any other day on the job. You even have enough time to forget about the skimpy (to say the least) skirt, the see through blouse and the lace. And even about the toy still inside you. 
You go back and forth between the aisles fetching drinks, small pillows and snacks fulfilling one typical and ordinary request after the other. This feels so routinely that you find yourself feeling a little... disappointed. 
What you didn't notice is how one by one the members emerged from their slumbers. You didn't notice that as the number of requests increased their usefulness decreased as their main purpose was to watch you walk up and down the aisle to see your breasts jiggle under the see-through blouse or your ass roll in the conveniently placed holes of your skirt.
And as you were closing the compartment above Jongho’s head, you lifted both of your arms up which caused your skirt to rile up your hips. Letting the lacey underwear peep from underneath it. That’s when Jongho spotted the purple color seeping through the white of the lace. That encouraged him to take out his remote.
The vibrations took you by surprise and you let one small quiet moan slip off your tongue. Immediately pressing your traitorous lips into a thin line. You crease your brows trying to reach the handle to finally close the compartment, trying not to focus on the low vibrations coming from the deepest part of you. 
Jongho can't help but to smirk when he hears the low rumble coming from the toy that is only inches from his face. 
You stagger back to your seat only for the help light to go off again. This time you walk over to Wooyoung. 
"Yes" you take a shaky breath. "May I….ngh…help you with anything?" 
"Yes, my armrest appears to be stuck. I can't seem to pull it down" he says, smirking. 
"There's a small lever on your right you have to pull it to be able to push the armrest down" 
"I tried but I can't make it work. Could you give it a try?" 
There was no way you could reach that far unless you laid over Yeosang's lap to reach Wooyoung’s window seat. One second look at the former and you realized that was exactly what they wanted. So you crouched down and laid on him, your stomach down. Your butt was on his lap while your face was on Wooyoung's thighs. You extended your hand and finally were able to push on the lever but suddenly the vibrations got more intense. You tensed up your back trying not to moan at the new pleasure you felt. 
But you still managed to push on the armrest down. 
"There you go, sir" you replied out of breath. 
"Thank you, baby" Wooyoung said as he pressed his hardening member to your cheek through his trousers, gently caressing the other with his thumb all the while you felt a pair of hands putting to good use the two holes in your skirt. Groping and cupping your ass cheeks. 
You let yourself whine ever so slightly when you spot the purple remote in the large hands of Mingi seated right up front, peeping back at you through the slit between the seats. 
You feel a new vibration coming. This time the setting is changed from the low tiniest vibrations to two short low ones and one long strong one. You can't help but to moan when you see Mingi picking this deadly pace while he smirks back at you through the slit. You feel the familiar build up in your core as Wooyoung rubs himself through his pants on your cheek and Yeosang grabs and massages your ass cheeks. 
You feel your walls dangerously constrict the toy inside you, your flirting with your edge but then the vibrations come to a stop. 
Wooyoung and Yeosang offer a helping hand to get you back on your feet and innocently smile at you. 
"That will be all, thank you, sweetheart" the latter says. Before you nod and go to another customer needing your help: Hongjoong. 
"Sir, may I help you?" 
"What's your color, doll?" The blonde man instantly asks. Still a little dazed you are taken aback by the question. 
"Green, sir" you say as you brought back some loose hair from the bum that was a little roughed up by Wooyoung moments ago. 
"Good" you spot the purple devices in his hand as he switches the toy on once more. At first it’s the same setting Jongho used. The lowest one. This one you could handle but soon Hongjoong’s slender fingers turned the roulette all the way up. 
The feeling is brand new because the source of the pleasure is doubled when you find out the toy can vibrate from two seperate places. You can't help but let out a strangled squeal. The intense setting of the toy instantly skyrockets you to unknown heights. 
"You look unwell, doll. Is everything okay?" Hongjoong asks with a sly smirk pulling at his lips. 
You nod. Heat rushing to your chest and neck. Insufferable pleasure making you weak at the knees. 
"Everything is perfect... mmmh... sir" you manage to say through gritted teeth. You realize the hungry gazes of the group of men are glued to you. Somehow the attention makes the pleasure even more unbearable and you feel like you're going to lose control at any second now. 
Your hands wrap around the headrest of Hongjoong’s seat in an attempt to ground yourself as you feel you are slowly slipping into the abyss. Your heat uncontrollably pulsing around the devilish toy. 
But as soon as you let out a moan that proves to be a little too high pitched. A pitch that betrays your imminent high. Hongjoong's eyes turn into a sadistic glacial gaze and he switches off the device completely. You can't help but to voice out your disappointment with an unpleased whine as you feel yourself pulse into the most infuriating and frustrating ruined orgasm. You look over the blonde man in confusion. 
"Why did you stop, sir?" You ask out of breath, strained voice seeped with desperation.
"Because you were being a bad girl, doll and bad girls don't get rewards." His voice was so stern you couldn't believe he was the same man making sure you were comfortable a second ago. 
"What did I do wrong?" The question sounded a little whiny as your eyes swept over the other men all looking at you with an evil twinkle in the eye. 
Your lost puppy eyes and the sad and desperate little pout made Hongjoong grow bigger in his pants as he was gaining this control over you. He had to fight the urge to immediately palm himself through his pants.
"Were you not about to cum without asking permission first?" you could hear the slightest hint of amusement behind the graveness of his tone.
"I didn't know I h-" 
"Talking back, are we?" You bit your lip, immediately interrupting yourself and looking down at your feet. “I thought you had better manners” Hongjoong said, fainting the disappointment of a strict father.
"I'm sorry, sir" 
"Sorry won't do it with me, doll. Doesn't she deserve punishment. Guys what do you say?" 
All of them nodded and agreed as you let the corner of your mouth fall, heart racing at the mention of the ominous word… Punishment.
"San" 
As soon as the leader called his name San got up and joined you in front of the group. He stepped behind you. 
"Now you'll stay completely still as San performs the punishment. Is this clear?" 
"Crystal clear, sir" you stiffened when you felt the strong hands of the man wrapping around your waist and reach over your stomach. You hold your breath as his fingers busy themselves with your blouse. Unfastening the buttons one by one. He peels the fabric off slowly as you take the sanction as obediently as possible. 
“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I laid eyes on you back in Copenhagen'' he whispers quietly, only for you to hear. His warm breath on your skin makes you shiver.
Then he moves to the zipper at the back of the short skirt. The vibration of the zip on your skin makes you shudder as the group of men relishes in seeing you so helpless. 
Soon you are left in only the heels and lingerie set. 
"You did so good baby" the man murmurs before laying a gentle kiss on the shell of your ear. 
"On your knees" Hongjoong says and you hastily obliged before he thinks you are being dissident again.
"Now say I'm sorry for being a selfish little slut obsessed with my own pleasure.”
The humiliation and shame makes your cheeks burning hot but still you comply. 
"I-I'm sorry for being a selfish little slut obsessed with my own pleasure.. Sir” you add for good measure.
“Now you’ll crawl to each of us and ask for a spanking. I think 8 spanks is a good start. Right gentlemen?” Once again they collectively agreed.
For a second shame paralyzes you.
“Go ahead, doll. Ask Seonghwa first” you look up at the man.
“Please, sir” you try to swallow a lump.
“Louder, princess” Seonghwa says, taking your chin between his slender fingers, smiling fondly down at his cute little toy.
“P-please Sir” you say louder this time. “Please punish me”
“Of course my princess” he replies in this tender tone. A tone that contrasts with the sharp sound of his palm falling flat on your bottom. You let a small cry slip out your lips as heat rushes to the sensitive patch of skin.
“What do you say, doll?” the blonde man chips in.
“T-Thank you Sir”
You crawled past Hongjoong to Mingi and Yunho’s row.
“Sir please, may I ask you for a spank” you asked Mingi.
The sting that followed had you throwing your head back and suppressing a moan by biting the inside of your cheek. Mingi’s hand was larger and a lot less gentle.
“Thank you” you hiss.
You continue the round, going to one member after the other until both your cheeks feel raw and several hand prints are left visible. You finish with Hongjoong.
“Please Sir, please spank me” you say out of breath, your hazy mind having difficulty putting the words in coherent sentences.
“Color, doll” he says as his hands slips over the sensitive skin, soothing you with gentle caresses.
“Green, sir”
All of a sudden you feel the vibrations deep inside your core again. You can’t help but let out a pleased moan escape your lips. Arching your back letting your head hang down. 
“Oh my g-god” you sigh before biting down on your lip. Hongjoong’s gentle hand wraps around your chin to lift your gaze to his own. His eyes are as dark as can be, an evil grin pulling on his lips.
“You were saying, doll?” he asks with his other hands still drawing soothing circles on your raw ass. “You wanted something from me?” he says, giving you a light squeeze.
You look around and see the other 7 pairs of eyes glued to you. And the sustained gazes and the vibrations send you to flirt with your edge almost instantly. 
“Don’t forget why you’re here, princess” Seonghwa warns you. “You can’t cum before given permission or I fear we will have to do all of that all over again”
“Except I won’t be as nice this time” Hongjoong adds, the gentle hold on your chin becoming a little tighter, blunt nails digging in your cheek. “Ask for your punishment like a good girl and I'll turn it off”
“Please. Please sir! Please spank me”
“Good girl” he says before lifting his palm and letting it fall back against your already sensitive skin. The sharp clap that erupts from the motion sends a spark of electricity straight to your core, lifting goosebumps in its wake.
The pleasurable pain and the tireless vibrations almost had you cumming but with immense resilience and respect for the orders you were given you manage to hold yourself back. 
“Such a good little toy for us, kitten” you hear San praise as the vibrations die down.
When you look back up at Hongjoong you look absolutely fucked out. He smiles at you and rubs soothing circles on your cheek. He can’t help but to feel himself twitch as he sees you look back at him this confused and frustrated. 
“You did really good, doll” Hongjoongs praises “You may rise”
You get up again to walk to the bench. You plop yourself on top of it, barely able to hold yourself on the stiletto heels but at least it’s a relief for your knees.
Suddenly you feel warm and gentle hands wrap around your waist and hoist you up on their lap, when you open your eyes you see it’s Seonghwa.
“You did really good, princess” Seonghwa says as you feel his fingers slip up your back and unclasping your white lace bra. In a split second the lace is off your blazing skin, you feel the air brush against your chest as the other men drink in your form, all eyes roaming this new part of your body revealed to their eyes. You whine softly as you fight the urge to cover yourself, turning your head to the side and closing your eyes just to avoid eye contact with them.
One of Seonghwa’s hands slips over your breasts, massaging the lumps of flesh and teasing your painfully hard nipples while the other one slips around your waist, down your stomach and inside the lace panties. 
You audibly gasp when you feel the toy being pulled out of you, whining at the loss of the fullness of it. You hear the toy bounce off the carpeted floor. 
“You won’t need this anymore now, princess” Seonghwa whispers in your ear before pinching your nipple a little harder. “We’ll take care of you now” You arch your back onto his torso. Immediately he starts rubbing small circles on your swollen clit. You can’t help but moan at the smallest of contact.
“You got so wet for us baby” Yeosang comments, making your eyes snap to him.
“And so sensitive” Jongho adds.
You feel Seonghwa smirk against your ear. Continuing the small and light circles on your clit. Soon you lose patience and start to buck your hips, desperate for friction, desperate for him to apply some pressure. 
“Do you want my fingers, Princess?” Seonghwa asks before planting an open mouth kiss on your neck.
“Yesss, Sir. Yes please” you breathe out, bucking your hips against his hand again. Which makes the older man chuckle against your skin.
“Take these off then, princess” He says, catching the white lace of your thong and letting it slap against your skin. Hurriedly you briefly lift your butt to shimmy out of the lace and let the fabric rest on one of your ankles. When you sit back down you feel your raw ass rub against Seonghwa’s clothed hard on, earning a low grunt from him.
“Spread your legs, Princess” Seonghwa says as he lightly caresses your thigh. 
The whole room held their breath, all of them waiting to finally see you in the simplest of forms, eagerly waiting to open Pandora's box. 
Gathering your courage you did so, very slowly you parted your thighs, feeling the cold air hit your swollen and sopping heat as you completely unveiled yourself for your clients. You spotted from the corner of your eyes Jongho starting to palm himself through his trousers.
“Fuck she’s so wet too” you guessed the deep voice to be the one of Mingi.
“So naughty” Yunho added.
“Good girl '' Seonghwa praised again when you couldn't possibly open your legs wider. He immediately slipped his ring and middle finger inside your heat, the slow and gentle stretch of your sex made you mewl pathetically, jaw falling loose as he curled his fingers right into your sweet spot.
“Oh my g-” the words get caught in your throat when Seonghwa picks up the pace. 
“You’re sucking in his fingers so well, kitten” San commented while he pressed his open hand on his length.
Your moans gradually grow louder and the wet squelching sounds of your dripping center bounce on the walls, Seonghwa composing a sinful symphony on your body. Pumping his fingers inside and out your heat then gliding up your folds to find your clit and dipping back in again.
As time goes by and as you inch closer to your edge you feel no intention in Seonghwa to stop. You know this time you won’t be able to hold back and after being so close so many times to your high. You just want to finally grasp it. You’re so close you can taste it. You just don’t want it to have it snatched away from you again.
“Seonghwa… Please” you breath out, cheeks flushed, nails digging into your palm.
“Please what?” Seonghwa asks, sounding as innocent as can be but the smirk you feel on the shell of your ear tells you the innocence as everything but genuine.
“Please… Aaaha. Can I c-cum?” you finally manage to ask.
“You wanna show everyone how you cum around my fingers?” The sinful choice of words makes your heart hammer against your ribs. But you would do anything for him to finally let you finish. 
“Yes” you breathe out, overlooking the shame, somehow managing to open your legs even wider, letting the plug peek from beneath you, the pink gem twinkling under the dim lighting, determined to let the others have a good look at you.
Your efforts are noticed. You hear a couple of them curse under their breaths while other finally slip their hands inside their pants. But most importantly your resilience makes Seonghwa agree to let you cum.
“Go ahead, Princess. Make a big mess on my fingers.”
You don't need more, you just let yourself slip as soon as you hear the magic words. Your mind slips into a haze as you throw your head back, letting it roll on Seonghwa’s shoulders. You clench around the man’s long fingers, cunt uncontrollably pulsing around him, refusing to ever let go of them. Your legs shaking as you let a long string of moans escape your lips.
The group of men admiring how your pussy opens and closes around their friend’s fingers, some grunting as they press a little harder on their painfully hard cocks. 
When Seonghwa rips his fingers out of your orgasming heat your cum just sprays out of your in streams, soaking the carpet beneath your feet. 
The high is so intense that you can’t even hold yourself back and start to let out your piss in a powerful arched stream, joining your cum to soak the carpet.
“Fuck she’s pissing herself” San says as he whisps his dick out, wanting to feel his closed fist around himself as he watches you humiliate yourself with an evil glint dancing in his eyes.
“So fucking nasty” Hongjoong says, shaking his head, fainting disappointment, but the wet patch you spot on his grey boxers says other wise.
You feel so much shame as the men watch you piss yourself like a dog. But at the same time the feeling makes you crave their eyes on you, the high completely clouding your judgment. 
You can’t stop peeing as your cunt continues to throb frantically, the orgasm lasting for an unprecedented amount of time.
Finally as the stream dies down you’re able to come down from your high.
“Goog girl” Seonghwa praises as he brings his cum covered digits to your mouth. You immediately, out of instinct, your mind still in a complete haze, welcome the long fingers inside your mouth. Eagerly sucking and licking, your taste taking over your mouth and rolling on your tongue. 
Suddenly you feel another pair of hands on your thighs. When you look you see Yunho letting his big palms glide from your thighs to your calf and to your feet. He brings your foot to his face, one hand under your calf and the other wrapped around the heel while he kisses your ankles, going down on your feet, he slips his tongue out, licking the black leather of the pump. Before taking them off.
“How do you taste, princess?” Seonghwa asks when he sees you distracted by Yunho. 
“Delicious, sir” you replied, still not taking your eyes off the tall man kneeling between your legs.
“Let me have a taste.” Seonghwa says before crashing his lips on yours, you share your cum with him as he pushes his tongue past your lips, eager to discover your flavor. 
He breathes heavily as he keeps kissing you. You feel Yunho peel off one of the tights to give kitten licks to your toes. 
The novel feeling has you moaning into Seonghwa’s mouth. He sucks on your toes before trailing up your thigh. Leaving blue and purple marks as he progresses up until he reaches your pubic bone. He kisses you everywhere but where you want him the most. You whine into the older one's mouth. Until the taller man finally gives a kitten lick to your clit. You rip your mouth from Seonghwa to look at Yunho between your legs. He doesn't break eye contact as he starts to relish on your taste. Your eyebrows knit on your forehead as your jaw falls open.
“Fuckkk” you swear before sucking your lip between your teeth.
“You like that?” He asks, lips still pressed to your folds.
“Yess! Yesss” you say as you eagerly grind your hips on your tongue, earning a low groan from the man behind you as your ass rubbed on his harder than ever cock. The raging hard on threatening to rip through the pants at any moment.
“What a greedy little whore” Mingi says as he gets up to come closer to the scene. Soon all of them follow and you find yourself surrounded by all 8 men looking down at you, hands either under or over their pants, playing with their cocks as they didn’t peel their eyes off you for a second. 
Seeing all of them around you, their hungry gaze fixed on you makes you even more eager, and you find yourself grinding even faster on Yunho’s tongue, letting sighs and pleading cries roll off your tongue.
“You just came, doll” Hongjoong started. “And you’re already so eager to cum again?” his warm hand slipped between your breast to go up you throat, lightly squeezing, just enough to make it threatening, making your eyes snap to him. “You’re so naughty”.
While you were distracted by Hongjoong you didn't notice from the corner of your eye Wooyoung taking his pants off and pumping his length in his clenched fist. Swiping his tongue on his bottom lips watching you fuck yourself out on Yunho’s mouth while Seonghwa groaned behind you and bit your neck. 
It’s only when you felt the hot tip against your cheek that you turned your head to him. When you look up at him the devilish grin that he adorns makes your inside flutter, your eager cunt twitching on Yunho’s tongue.
“Open wide for me, baby, okay?” Wooyoung’s raspy voice asked as he laid his leaking tip right on your lips. As soon as the tip of your tongue makes contact with his slit you give it a kitten lick. The salty taste goes straight to your head and makes you dizzy. You open your mouth a little wider and Wooyoung slowly pushes his length inside you. You can’t help but to moan as you feel the smooth skin gliding so easily on your wet tongue. Letting your eyes roll back as you feel your lips stretch to accommodate this fullness in your mouth while Yunho slows down his rhythm, allowing you just enough lucidity to be able to concentrate on your new found mission. 
Wooyoung continues to progress until he bottoms out. And you hollow your cheeks to pull your head back on his length just to push back in. You start out slow, making sure to lube him up with your spit. And Wooyoung sighs at the pleasurable way your tongue swirls around his tip every time he hangs on your lips, letting his head roll back, thick veins ornamenting his neck.
As you pick up the pace you feel hands wrap around what was once your bun and push you back down further on Wooyoung’s cock.
“Come on, princess. You can do better than that” you hear Seonghwa purr in your ear. As Wooyoung groans, feeling you go deeper. “You can take him all in. Right Princess?” 
With each coming and going Seonghwa pushes on your head a little harder until, your nose hits Wooyoung’s pubic bone. Seonghwa keeps you right there for a moment as you look up at the younger man with teary eyes.
“Ever since I picked this red lipstick for you I've wanted to see it around my cock. You’re so pretty like this baby.” Wooyoung says as Seonghwa finally releases you, allowing you to pull back and breathe. You suck in a deep breath, fighting back a coughing fit.
“You’re doing so good, Princess. So good for us” Seonghwa praises, already pushing your head back on Wooyoung’s length. You open your mouth once again, pursing your lips, hollowing your cheeks. So good that soon enough Wooyoung lets his head roll back and let a long string of profanities fall from his lips.
“Fuck you’re so good at this, baby. Like you were made to suck cock” he praised, through gritted teeth. “Fuckkk” he cursed again and you felt his cock twitch on your tongue while he suddenly gripped your hair, stopping you from pushing him back inside your wet mouth. “Fuck” he breathes heavily. “I need a break.  Don’t want the fun to end now” he said, pulling his lips in a sinful smirk.
“I’ll take it from here” San said, pulling Wooyoung by the shoulder to take his place. When you are presented with San’s cock you can tell he has been playing with himself for a while, the tip is swollen, beet red and dripping. It is the most mouth watering sight you ever got the chance to witness. Instinctively you open wider and approach your lips but San pulls back before you can wrap your mouth around the alluring member.
“An eager little kitten, aren't we?” the man breathes out while he lazily pumps himself before your round out eyes. “You want my cock this bad ?” he smirks wickedly, looking down on you. You only nod, not peeling your eyes off San’s cock. “You have to properly ask for it before I give it to you” Your eyes snap back to his sharp ones. There’s not a trace of humor in his dark brown orbs, only dark lust burning holes into you.
“Please, sir. Fill my mouth with your cock” you whisper, your warm breath hitting San’s raw dick, making him suck in a breath. 
“Good little kitty” he praises while pressing his cock against your lips, which you part as soon as you feel the hot leaking tip against your mouth, immediately the taste going to your head. Slowly you glide on San’s length as his hands wrap around both your ears, pulling you even further on his cock, grunting all the way down until he reaches the bottom.
“Stay completely still, kitten” he whispers, the sultry tone making you shiver under his unwavering gaze. “Let me fuck that pretty little mouth”
Suddenly you gasp as you feel two long fingers being pushed inside your dripping heat, Yunho, tired of being ignored, wants to get your attention back. And the least you can say is that it’s effective. His digits curl inside you deliciously, able to reach deeper than Seonghwa.
San takes advantage of your sudden gasp to push his length deeper, picking up right where Wooyoung left off. You feel the delicious burn of your throat expanding to accommodate San’s girth. 
Yunho wraps his lips around your clit once more while San pleasures himself with your mouth, strong grip around your head, pulling your head in and pushing it back out again at a rapid pace. The pleasure makes you moan on San’s length, your eyes becoming watery. 
“You like that, babygirl?” you hear Yunho ask you from between your legs. You can’t possibly respond because San doesn't allow a single word to leave your mouth, only muffled sounds of approval.
“Good girl” Yunho praises before returning to tease you. His tongue twirls around your sensitive bundle of nerves occasionally sucking and flicking it with his tongue. 
“You like getting your little cunt stuffed while I fuck your face, kitten?” San asks, breath short, strong forearms contracting around your face. You only moan in approval, trying to nod your head which proves to be impossible due to San’s grip. Only the volume of the pitch of the moans you make, gives away at the state of urgency in which you find yourself.
“You wanna cum?” San asks, somehow grip growing stronger. You moan again, one single tear rolling down your cheek, dragging with it one streak of mascara. “Cum, kitten. Cum for Yunho with my dick down your throat” 
Once again the permission makes you let go of the knot in your guts, the pleasure spreads to you through your core pulsing under Yunho tongue and clenching on his long fingers, deliciously curled right into your sweet spot. Gradually San and Yunho slow down allowing you to ride off your high.
Before you even gather up your thought you feel Seonghwa turn your head to him one more time, slipping his long tongue inside your mouth, the only response your hazy mind can come up with is to moan into his mouth before you feel yourself being lifted up by a couple pair of strong arms, Seonghwa grunting under you.
“Princess, I need you right here” You hear the older man’s deep voice as his gaze points at his dick, now shed from its restraints, standing proud and tall. You step towards him and lift your leg to take him in but he stops you.
“No, princess. Other way around, I want the others to see the beautiful expressions you make with my cock deep inside you” he says as he lightly pushes on your hips, urging you to turn around. When you do and see the others you can’t help but to feel a new wave of arousal. 
You find yourself hovering over Seonghwa while you hold his length in your hand. The whole room seems to hold their breath as you align yourself with him, gathering your arousal, taking your time to spread it on the leaking tip.
“Look how wet you are” Jongho commented. “We haven't even started yet and you already made such a mess”
“S-sorry, sir” you muster and bite your lip immediately after, sinking your hips on Seonghwa as the others all look at the precise place your two bodies meet, fist pumping around the results of their own arousal.
“Fuckkkk” you hear Seonghwa curse in your ear. 
“Enjoying the eldest privilege, hyung?” you hear the low voice of Mingi ask as you can’t even bring yourself to open your eyes, your body automatically shutting down your other senses to focus solely on the delicious stretch of your walls around Seonghwa’s girth.
“I’m not the only one, am I Princess?” he asks short of breath, his hands tucking behind your ear one of many strands of hair that escaped your once sleek updo. When you fail to provide a satisfactory reply, Seonghwa’s hand drops down to your cunt. 
“Didn't I tell you to…” his hot breath fans your ear, you sigh and let your head fall back on his shoulder as you feel his hand touch you in the place you need him the most only to receive a sharp slap right on your very sensitive bud. The unexpected and acute pain stirs your gut in a brand new way, making you clench around Seonghwa, ripping a low moan from your lips.
“... use your words?” he asks, voice a lot sterner. 
“Yesss” you mewl. “Yesssss” you pant. “Yess, sir” not being able to tell if you crave another slap or if you had just gone completely mad.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks again.
“”Yes, sir. I am”
“So naughty, doll” Hongjoong comments, stepping closer.
“Now princess, work for me a little, okay? Make me feel good.” The eldest places both his hands on your hips making you sink down until he reaches the deepest part of you as you moan, feeling him deliciously splitting you open. “Show them how good you are.”
You start to rise up again, Seonghwa’s hands still on your hips but not helping you in any way, letting you take control over this. Once his tip is barely hanging inside you, you sink down again, this time faster. His lubricated length slides inside you with ease. You moan without restraint at the way his length rubs on the toy in your ass, stirring it around and making the metal push on all the right places. You repeat the motion until you settle in a comfortable rhythm. 
As you behave according to Seonghwa’s order you can't help but let your half lidded gaze sweep the room. All these eyes on you make you clench again, urging you to bounce harder on Seonghwa’s girth. 
“Look at you, slutty tits bouncing for us.” Jongho comments again, making you bite your lip, shame bubbling with arousal in the pit of your stomach. But at the same time you can’t seem to stop your hips, irrepressibly pulled down and pushed back up again and again until Seonghwa feels you flutter around him.
“You like giving a good show. Right Princess?”
“Yess sir” you whine, eyes prickling with tears. 
“Aren’t you a pretty one, doll?” Hongjoong whispers, his voice barely covering your moans and whines, slipping his hands right between your breasts caressing with the tip of his finger your soft and dampened sweaty skin, trailing to cup your breast. Suddenly he pinches your nipples harden into buds, the dull pain makes you roll your head back, letting a throaty moan escape your lips.
“Doll, can’t you do anything with those pretty hands of yours?” Hongjoong asks, pinching ever so slightly harder. 
Before you can even reply anything, Yeosang and Yunho step to each side of you, wrapping your fingers around their two cocks. 
“That’s way better” Hongjoong compliments.
They start out by guiding you on their length until you continue on your own. 
“Fuck sweetheart” Yeosang starts. “Those pretty hands were made to pleasure cocks” he praises as he brings your face close to his length, pushing your cheeks onto his tip, spreading the pre cum on your hot face. 
“Such a good little girl for us” Yunho outbids the praise, pulling you close to also spread his essence on you. “Faster my baby” he exhales.
You oblige as you feel Seonghwa's hands on your hips urging you to go faster, his blunt nails digging into your sides. As you do so Seonghwa lightly scoots down on the bench, angling his cock in a brand new way. You can't help but to moan loudly at the way he’s now rubbing your sweet spot, each back and forth scrubbing against the toy in your ass and deliciously poking at the entrance of Eden's garden. 
“Such beautiful sounds” Seonghwa praises, licking around your ear, the wet sounds of his mouth making your guts slush around as your grip tightens around the two cocks in your hand, making the two men groan. 
You can’t help but to let your mind slip in delirium again, pleasure delightfully clouding your judgment.
“Sir please, can I cum?”
“Again?” Jongho scoffs. “You really can’t fucking wait can you?” the sharp glacial tone, contrast with the sadistic and amused smirk spreading on his lips. You whine in response, brows linking on your forehead, bouncing even harder as Hongjoong continues to tease your nipples, taunting the hard buds until they become so sensitive you could cum from the way he plays with them alone.
“I’m sorry I can't let you Princess” Seonghwa says, strong grip on your hips making you stop abruptly. Immediately your hungry little cunt starts to pulse around his length, yearning for more of the delectable friction as your ass clenches around the plug.
“Please, Please please” you start to plead. Lust speaking in your place, completely forgetting about everything else.
“You really have no shame” the younger comments again.
“No Princess. Seonghwa says sternly. “Unfortunately I made you cum once already and I have to let the others also have fun with our brand new toy.” you whine, tears of frustration brimming in your eyes. “I recall Mingi didn’t even touch you yet”. 
Your eyes instantly snap to the tall pink haired man, standing in front of you while a wicked smirk spreads on his lips. 
“No, I haven't played with our little play thing… yet” his low voice rumbles makes your chest tighten as you let Seonghwa’s length slip out of you in defeat. The last word somehow sounds like a threat and makes you shiver. 
“What you say, y/n?” your heart makes a loop in your chest when the man uses your name. They only used pet names until then and you weren't expecting it, it somehow feels a lot more personal, almost making you forget you’re actually working right now. “Do you wanna play with me?” his large hand wraps around your neck, not squeezing in the slightest way. His fingers are only curled around you, lightly pulling you up to guide you out Seonghwa’s lap. 
“Yes. Yes I want to play with you, sir” you say, entranced by the man. 
“Good girl” he praises, still leading you by the neck and making you kneel on the carpeted floor. “Lay there Angel” his low but commanding voice said.
You lay on your back and bring your knees over your chest before spreading your legs open. Jongho and San sitting at each side hold your legs apart while all of them eye down your red, swollen and pulsing little cunt.
Mingi kneels down and places himself right between your thighs, the huge member sitting heavily in his open palm, you gasp when you feel the hot tip glide over your drenched folds. Mingi repeats the motion a couple of times, each time pressing down with his tip on your swollen and sensitive bundle of nerves. You jerk your hips everytime under the divine pressure he applies but soon you grow frustrated.
“Please…”you whine breathless, looking up at him with half lidded eyes, your messy hair stuck to your forehead.
“Please what, angel?” he asks as you feel a pair of foreign hands cup your breasts, you don't even take the time to look around to find the owner of those hands, only eyeing down Mingi’s massive cock laying over your quivering little pussy.
“Please I want to feel you” you finally say, just above a murmur, squirming not wanting anything more than to finally be filled to the brim with a cock. After all this teasing you just need to feel a cock inside you. Anyone. You just want to be filled. 
Mingi chuckles darkly at your quiet request as he continues to tease you.
“You want my cock, baby?” he asks, deep and sultry voice lifting goosebumps on your bare skin. You nod, not peeling your eyes off the member. “Bark for it.”
“Huh?” you look back at him confused, the wicked smirk playing on his lips makes you shiver.
“Bark for my cock like the bitch you are” he lifts up his dick to let it slap back down against your sensitive and erect clit, making your jerk at the sharp sting of pleasure.
“He said bark!” Jongho adds, only now you see he’s the one teasing your nipples.
“Woof woof” you finally let out.
“Again!” Jongho commands as he lands a slap on your cheek. Making you gasp and arch your back into the carpeted floor.
“Woof woof woof woof” you repeatedly scream.
Tears of frustration are blurring your vision. Making you unable to see as Mingi finally plunges his fat cock into your desperate heat. Your walls immediately welcome him with happy spasms. Mingi grunts and moans all the way down to the bottom of your hungry little cunt.
But then again he stops moving, he just stays there, more tears spill from your eyes, dragging down your mascara, progressively ruining the makeup that was so thoughtfully planned out for you. Much to Wooyoung's satisfaction. 
“Please. Please.” you say breathless, unable to stop yourself from trying to rock yourself on Mingi’s cock. “Please fuck me” you ask again.
“Color, doll?” you hear Hongjoong ask. You look back at him confused. You need a moment before the words even mean anything in your mind. But the question forces your mind back to reality.
“Green” you utter. To your response Hongjoong and the others snicker.
“You really like to beg don’t you?” Seonghwa's remark makes you whine.
“Such a good little cocksleeve, properly begging for us. You’re doing so good baby” Yunho praises, wiping the tears away.
“Go ahead Mingi… give her what she wants” Hongjoongs concludes.
The pink haired man then looks back at you and starts to push inside your greedy little cunt steadily.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir” you hastily say looking up at Hongjoong your orbs drowning in a sumptuous blend of desperation, gratitude and need. He looks down at you with a proud paternal smile. You’re so cute. Completely fucked out stupid. The perfect little fuck toy.
You feel your cunt deliciously stretch to accommodate Mingi’s fat cock as he bottoms out and lets out a low groan. You can’t help but to arch your back at the delicious filling sensation, the definitely girthy (to say the least) cock scraping against the toy crowding your other hole in exquisite pleasure. 
Gradually Mingi picks up the pace as Jongho continues to play with your tits. Flicking the hardened buds and pinching them occasionally crouching down to suck on them. 
Pleasure rises, your gut tightens in the familiar knot but as you become more vocal and as your walls start gripping Mingi a little tighter he slows down, denying you your high. You can’t help but to whine in disappointment.
But as a distraction from the frustration Wooyoung crouches down next to your face and once again teases your lips with his blazing tip. You gratefully open your mouth to take your mind off the agonizing pleasure Mingi inflicts to you. Hungrily sucking on Wooyoung’s length, bopping your head to the side as you felt another cock graze your cheek but you didn't open your eyes to see who it was you solely concentrated on Wooyoung.
“That's it baby. Suck my cock” you heard him praise as he wrapped his veiny hand around what was left of your bun. “Fffucck… y/n” he moaned. 
Mingi started to pick up the pace again making you moan on Wooyoung’s length, the vibrations making the younger man shiver. As you didn’t slow down, hollowing your cheeks on his length as you pulled and moaning as you pushed your head back.
“You’re so good for us, Princess” you heard Seonghwa from beside you, guessing it was his cock caressing your cheek. “That’s right, keep going like this” he encouraged and you picked the pace again.
“Fuck… You… mmmh… want my cum that… fucking… bad?” Wooyoung struggled to say as you felt his grip become tighter around your hair. You nodded again, you didn't know if your point came across but you didn't care you only wanted to taste his cum on your tongue.
“Fuckk” you heard Mingi still smashing himself between your legs.
“Fuck I’m cumming” Wooyoung pulled on your hair, popping his length out your mouth to release all over your face, warm white cum crashing on your nose, cheeks and lips. You hungrily licked your lips as Wooyoung grunted, emptying his balls on your face.
“Shit” the younger man breathes out as he unravels his fingers around your hair. Immediately Seonghwa pinches your chin and turns your head to the other side, to look at him. 
“Mingi please” you whine again as he decreases the pace again, you try to turn your head to the pink haired man kneeling between your legs but Seonghwa firmly maintains your face to him. 
“Shh, Princess.” he gently says as your body is shaken under each of Mingi's slow but powerful thrust. “Don't waste Wooyoung’s cum, okay?” with his index finger he scraped your cheek and dragged the thick liquid to your mouth, pushing his cum coated finger past your lips, as you wrapped your lips around it, moaning as Wooyoung’s taste filled your mind.
“That's it. Eat it all” Seonghwa praised as he jerked himself off with his other hand. “Good girl. You want mine too, Princess?” he asked, inching his length closer to you. 
“Yes! Please! Sir, please I want your cum” you eagerly reply. 
“Sweetheart is starved for cum, isn’t she?” Yeosang commented.
“Open. Stick your tongue out” Seonghwa’s tone was urgent, his voice was roughed up and strained, giving away at his own need. “Don't close your eyes, Princess” he says breathless, his fist frantically going up and down his aching cock. “Keep looking at me” he said, barely above a whisper. Catching his bottom lip between his teeth and knitting his brows as pleasure contorts his beautiful delicate features.
You happily obliged as Seonghwa lets himself go. Aiming primarily at your open wet hole but the uncontainable powerful streams also get on your nose and all the way to your forehead, perfectly splitting your ruined face in half. 
Seonghwa grunts in satisfaction as the others approve and jerk themself off at the beautiful and sinful sight.
“Keep your mouth open Baby. Don’t swallow yet” Mingi orders. “I want to see their cum in your mouth while I pound into you.” 
This time Mingi seems to be more serious, he doesn’t mean to tease you any longer.
“Fuckkkkk” Mingi grunts as he plows into you, making your tits jiggle under Jongho’s hands. “You're so fucking pretty with all that cum on your face, angel” He hisses through gritted teeth. “Wanna cum on my cock, baby?”
“Yesshhh” you managed to say, swirling the two loads on your tongue.
As the pleasurable feeling spreads from your core to your whole body you feel warm hands laid against your erect clit, drawing tight small circles on it. 
“You gonna be a good girl and cum for us, sweetheart?” Yeosang purrs as he teases your clit, instantly taking you to unknown heights. The pleasure fogs up your mind as you can only think about Yeosang’s hand on you and Mingi’s cock pounding you into oblivion. 
“Fuck… Cum now.” Mingi ordered as his thrust became shallower, less regular. 
“Thank you. thank you thank you” you blabbered, your mouth still full of cum as you let yourself come undone at Yeosang and Mingi’s touch. Your cunt uncontrollably pulsating around Mingi’s big cock, the indescribable pleasure making your legs shake and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let your tongue hang out your mouth, the cum threatening to spill with each jerk of your body.
“Fuckkk I’m cumming” Mingi announced as he became uneven, finally letting himself release deep inside you, his hips snapping to yours a couple of more times as he painted you a brand new shade of white, your convulsing little cunt milking him to the last drop, eagerly wanting to drown itself in the precious and delicious essence. 
“Swallow now, darling”. Yeosang allowed you. And you gladly did so. Finally getting the thick cum down your throat, relishing on the intoxicating taste as you let Mingi slip out of you and his cum lazily dripping out your shapeless hole.
“Come here and clean your little mess” Mingi said out of breath as he stumbled back sitting on the floor with his legs in front of him. You got up on all four and crawled to him, finding your spot between his ample thighs while he held out his sticky cock to you, covered with your slick and his cum. You kept your ass up as you bent over to wrap your mouth around the tip and giving it a hard suck. You felt the warm load drip down your thighs as the mixed flavors of your arousal and his cum flooded your mouth.
As you licked clean every inch you felt a pair of hands gently pat your ass.
“You really have no shame, do you?” Jongho commented from behind you, landing a slap on your raw ass. You jerked and moaned as you popped Mingi’s freshly cleaned length out of your mouth. 
You felt Jongho pull on the plug that was still inside you. He pulled lightly on it a couple of times to let it be sucked back in by your ass. 
“Oh what a greedy little hole, clinging onto the toy like this” he said finally pulling the toy out, admiring your hole opening and closing in need to be filled again. “Don’t worry darling, you won’t stay empty for long”. Just as he said that he plunged two fingers inside your blinking hole. His index and middle finger forming a V to spread your hole open as much as possible. You moaned in bliss as the others watched you being split open in awe. 
“You like my fingers in your ass?” Jongho asked as his other hand was rubbing soothing circles on your bare bottom. 
“Yes!! Yess sir I love them” you almost yelled back eager to feel more of him.
“What a good little whore” he praised, landing another spank on your reddened cheek. He then curled his fingers to rub against your sweet spot. You let your head hang as you close your eyes only focusing on the pleasure happening behind you when you feel a gentle touch on your cheek. When you look up it’s San, kneeling in front of you, holding his swollen and painfully hard length in his hand. 
“My turn now, kitten.” he says in a raspy tone. “Open up” as soon as you part your lips he slips inside the wet hole, directly aiming for the back of your throat. As you are on your hands and knees your mouth and neck perfectly align in a flat line and San is able to reach the back of your throat easily. You feel the pleasure burn again in your already sore throat, awakening the dormant and dull pain, a little souvenir of his previous visit.
After a couple of back and forths he pops his length out your mouth, making you whine but it’s caught in your throat when you feel Jongho stuff one more finger inside your crowded little ass.
San wraps his fist around his length as lazily pumps himself a few times.
“Give me a hand Woo”
You see Wooyoung’s veiny hand wrap around San’s cock. San lets out a throaty moan as the younger man’s fingers curled around his length, pumping him lazily while you observed in awe as his catlike eyes creased and his eyebrows met on his forehead. 
San’s now free hand gently rubbed your face, his lips being pulled in a sinful smirk.
“Faster” he instructed Wooyoung. and he immediately started to pump his fist quicker. “Ffuucckk yesss” he hissed clenching his jaw as his half lidded eyes stared right into you.
“I think kitten wants her milk” he chuckled at the way your eyes started to grow in approbation, pupils dilated at the thought. “Let’s not make her wait any longer”
You licked your lips in anticipation while San caught his bottom lip between his teeth, completely dropping the cocky smile as you saw him twitch in Wooyoung’s hand.
“Open your mouth, darling” Wooyoung ordered, aiming San’s cock right at your wet hole.
“Fuck, kitten! Want my milk?” San asked as you saw his muscular thighs contract.
“Yes please sir I'm a thirsty kitty” you said before sticking your tongue out. Which made San push his jaw forward.
“Then take it” he said, his hand going from your cheek to your neck to pull your face further onto his crotch right before he cums as Wooyoung clenches his fist around the twitching cock. A colossal amount of cum spurts out of his open slit, crashing on your face and mixing with the others’ loads, your tears and smudged makeup.
“Good girl” Wooyoung praises.
The salty and bitter taste wraps around your tongue as you moan in satisfaction letting your mind focus on this intoxicating flavor. 
But Jongho pulls you out of your trance by circling your waist with his free hand, to be able to play with your clit. Which has you moaning instantly.
“I want you to cum around my fingers” Jongho whispered as he drew tight and rapid circles on your over-stimulated clit. More tears spill from your eyes as the pleasure elevates your body again.
“Pleaseeee” you whine. At this point you don't even know what you are begging for anymore. Are you begging him to stop, to let you rest? Are you begging him for more?
Then Wooyoung crouches down and sticks his tongue inside your mouth as your jaw is slacked. Your moans and whines are muffled as your eyes roll back into your skull while you share San’s taste mixed your spit with the raven black haired man.
“That's it baby” Jongho praises a carnivorous grin pulling at his lips. 
Another earth-breaking orgasm washes over your body as your tight little asshole tries to swallow Jongho’s fingers whole, your cum spraying out of you in a powerful stream again while you moan into Wooyoung’s open mouth.
When Jongho pulls out you are left breathless and fucked out of your mind.
“She’s ready back here” Jongho announced, wiping his fingers on your skirt abandoned on the floor. “Who wants to have a go?” he asks.
“Me” Yunho answered immediately. 
You can't help but to gulp. Out of the eight of them, Yunho is easily the biggest one. You can’t help but to nervously chew on your bottom lip as you eye down Yunho’s hard and leaking huge cock. 
“Stay right here” Yeosang says as he sees you squirming.
Yunho kneels behind you but as soon as you turn your head to look back, Yeosang gently pinches your chin and makes you look at him.
“Look what you did to me, sweetheart.” he gently purred, swiping the raging hot tip across your wet swollen lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard ever. That’s all for you, darling” Yeosang sings as he pushes back his long black hair. You let a moan escape your lips as you feel Yunho’s fingers swipe up your slit to your clit, flicking the poor exhausted nub a couple of times, when he notices how sensitive you are. You hear him chuckle behind you.
“Don’t you think you have to take responsibility for it?” Yeosang’s grip on your chin grows tighter but his voice remains as sweet as honey.
“Yes, sir” you agree as you open your mouth again. As soon as Yeosang’s hot cock head glazes over your tongue the sweet taste of precum completely wipes away the soreness of your already abused jaw. 
“Yesss” Yeosang hisses, gentle hands wrapped around your nape and guiding your lips to meet his pubic bone. “So fucking good baby” he gently pulls out and goes back in immediately. 
Then you feel Yunho’s cock rub against your soaked center, emitting a lowly grunt, making you moan on Yeosang’s cock. The latter chuckles and the way you shudder feeling your little cunt being teased again.
“You want Yunho’s cock, sweetheart?” he asks, pulling his dick out of your mouth to allow you to answer. 
“Yes! Yes please Sir!” you eagerly say, trying to look back again but Yeosang doesn't let you..
“Look at me, darling. Only me” he reminds you. “Where do you want his cock?” he traces the outline of your lips with his spit coated member, teasing himself in the process.
“In my ass please. I want Yunho’s cock in my ass” You said with pleading eyes looking up at Yeosang. 
“So greedy” Yunho snickered once more as he finally pushed himself inside your blinking hole. You can’t help but to gasp at the way your ass expands to accommodate Yunho’s enormous cock. Each of the rings inside your tiny hole stretches to a brand new limit to fit the monstrous member forcing its way inside of you. You groan and bite your lip all the way until Yunho has pushed the whole thing inside and you manage to take him completely. You suck in a couple of deep and shaky breaths.
“Such a good girl swallowing my big cock whole like this” Yunho praises as he stays still for a moment, allowing you to adapt to him. “Are you alright, babygirl?” he asks with his sweet voice, the caring tone makes your heart flutter.
“Yes sir, I’m good” You answer with a short breath. 
“You’re so pretty, darling” Yeosang says, wiping a tear off your mascara stained cheek. “So beautifully ruined for us” he says before pushing his dick past your lips again. At the exact same time Yunho slowly pulled himself out of you. Scraping you so deliciously as he did so, making you moan on Yeosang’s cock, the vibrations making a shiver run down his spine. 
“Fuck you’re gripping me so tight babygirl” Yunho growled as he pushed his length back inside. You could have cum with just this. Just by the way he was making you so full of him, scraping you in all the right places. To take your mind off the pleasure that was burning your guts you started to focus on Yeosang instead. 
You bopped your head along his cock and hollowed your cheeks when you reached the tip, sucking a little harder as your tongue lapped at his slit making sure your tongue never forgot his taste.
“You’re so good with your mouth, sweetheart” Yeosang said, warm hands gently wrapping around you as his hips helped you to get him off. Snapping his hips against your face but never to the point to trigger your gag reflex, there was a gentleness to him, a softness in the way he looked down at you almost amorously as you felt his cock throb on your tongue. The tenderness made you want to be the best girl you could be for him. You wanted to give him your all and you intend to do just that.
“Fuckkk” he hissed as you wrapped your tongue around the sensitive head, bopping your head a little harder.
“Babygirl wants our cum too?” Yunho asked as his hips became sloppier against yours, the two large palms tensing on your ass cheeks and squeezing them to keep himself balanced on his knees as he smashed himself inside. 
“Stay still, sweetheart” Yeosang suddenly says, steadying himself right in front of your mouth. One hand wrapped around the underside of your chin, the other still on your nape. “I’m gonna use your cute little mouth. That's what you want, right darling? Wanna be my toy?” You nodded your head quickly while you obediently waited for him to fuck your mouth, staying as still as Yunho allowed you to be as he pounded into you.
Yeosang’s thrusts were shallow at first. But quickly grew deeper, making your core tighten and your eyes prickle again
“Fuck baby. You’re gonna make me cum if you clench like this” Yunho grunted. “I want you to cum with me, understood, babygirl?” 
You only moaned back, unable to form words as your mouth was clearly occupied and busy. 
“Goog girl” he moaned, his trusts becoming more and more sloppy as Yunho became more vocal, grunting and moaning with each coming and going, his grip on your ass growing tighter until he was ready to bust. 
“Fuck, baby. Now” he breathlessly said as he gave you one particularly powerful thrust. “Now. Cum for me. Cum for us, baby”
You let yourself leap past that edge once more, the overwhelming pleasure makes you moan and whine against Yeosang’s length while your ass clings onto Yunho’s huge cock, demanding to be filled with his cum, walls pulsing and clenching in exquisite bliss as you felt him slip out of you. Yunho only had to give himself a couple of light pumps around his fist before he exploded all over your ass, long ropes of scolding hot cum splashing on your back even reaching all the way to your hair and the back of your head. 
“Fuckkkk” Yunho cried out, clenching his fist around his cock, pressing his thumb over the throbbing head to push every last drop of his cum out just for you. 
“Shit, darling, I'm gonna cum” Yeosang declared, following right after the taller man, his hips snapping one last time against your lips, as you felt his throbbing cock releasing the thick cum right into your throat, not even leaving you the pleasure to feel it slide against your tongue, directly delivering it down your throat. Stuttering hips and pubic bone flushed against your face. A long string of deep moans echoing the ones of Yunho.
When Yeosang slipped out of you and pinched your chin again to make you look up at him. He looked back at you like you were the most precious thing on earth, a treasure that needed to be protected at all costs. Looking so fondly at his fucked out toy, your half lidded eyes hung in nothingness as your body was still lightly shaken by the intense and multiple orgasms.
“So pretty, sweetheart” he lays a gentle kiss on your swollen and numb lips, which you barely had the conscience to even reciprocate. “Such a good girl for us”
When Yeosang gently lets go of you, you have to gather all the strength left in your body not to let yourself collapse to the ground and hold yourself still on your hands and knees. You barely even notice when Hongjoong crouches in front of you.
“Color, Doll?” he asks as he lazily pumps his swollen cock inside his hand.
“G-green” you barely manage to say. Your mind still completely hazy from the previous events but you are brought back instantly as Hongjoongs lands a quick slap on your mascara stained cheek, making you whip your head to the side.
“Didn’t hear you, doll” he said, giving you a chance to correct yourself. 
“Green, S-sir” you sniffled, remembering to use the correct title, your eyes snapping to him.
“Good girl” Hongjoong added, soothing your burning cheek with his thumb. “I guess it’s my turn now, right, doll?” he looked down at you with a carnivorous, predatory smile that made you shudder.
“Yes, Sir. Whenever you are ready”
Hongjoong sat right in front of you, in the cum soaked carpeted floor of the jet.
“Sit on my cock, doll.” Hongjoong said, holding the base of his length up in the air, urging you to be filled up once again.
You struggled to get up on your two legs and staggered over to Hongjoong, placing your feet at each side of him. When you lowered your hips, aligning your entrance with Hongjoong’s member your thighs barely held you anymore. Your body was exhausted but somehow you were yearning for more. Your insatiable and sore little cunt was throbbing at the idea of being filled up again. 
When Hongjoong’s tip glided along your slit you moaned and draped your arms around his shoulders, using him as a way to get balance. You let out a long moan when Hongjoong finally splits you open, his length pushing the remnants of Mingi’s load deeper inside you. 
“Fuck. You’re already throbbing, you dumb little whore” Hongjoong said, hand untangling with your hair and breaking your neck backward, to give himself access to your already bruised neck. Adding his touch to the stained canvas with bites and kisses. “Yearning to be filled again. Isn't that right, doll?” he asked, yanking your hair a little harder when you didn’t reply fast enough.
“Yes, Sir. I wanted your cock so bad. It feels so good!!!” you moaned as you started to bounce yourself on him, earning a satisfied groaned from the blonde man. “Right thereee” you let out as you sink your hips all the way down, slowly again, feeling the head of his cock rub against your sweet spot. 
“Good girl. Keep going” Hongjoong urged, letting go of your hair and laying himself back on his elbows, backing away slightly to take your whole form in. He wanted to admire you fuck yourself up on his cock. He wanted to see your tits bounce and your pussy throb as you drove yourself to madness. He wanted to see you cry. He knew exactly how.
He landed a purposeful and sharp slap right on your soaked little clit. The reaction is immediate and exactly what Hongjoong was looking for. You emit the most divine of screams, the perfect blend of pleasure and pain. Hongjoong can't help but to smirk when he sees how your bottom lip trembles and your eyes fill up with tears again all the while never stopping your hips snapping against his. 
“Say thank you” he orders, putting both of his hands on your thigh keeping them nice and parted, eyes only ogling the way your hungry little cunt swallowed him only to spit him out covered in your slick seconds later and do it all over again and again and again. 
“Thank you, sir” you whine. “Please another one, sir” you ask, mind slipping back into an indiscernible fog. Hongjoong cocks an eyebrow in surprise at your sudden request. But he’s pleasantly surprised by your obedience and devotion.
“What a pathetic little pain slut you are, y/n” He lands another slap just as perfectly aimed as the previous one making you moan and finally making the precious tears spill from your eyes at the mention of your name.
“Such a good little fuck toy, asking so nicely. Good girls get rewards, right doll?” Hongjoong says as he starts to draw small circles on your throbbing clit with his index and middle finger. 
“Oh my god. Th-thank you, Sir” you whine, more large tears rolling on your heated cheeks. The pleasure makes you eager to chase your high and you find yourself bouncing harder on Hongjoongs’ cock. Not even realizing Jongho creeping up behind you again.
“Sir, can I please cum?” you ask, feeling your high dangerously nearing as you feel your walls tighten around Hongjoong’s length and your clit throbbing under his touch.
“You’re an eager little whore aren’t you?” the voice of the youngest resounds behind you. When you turn your head he pushes on your shoulder making you fall forward onto Hongjoong’s chest. Hongjoong chuckles as Jongho gets on his knees and shimmies himself between the older man’s legs. You still yourself completely when you feel him rub his tip around your rim.
Without even another word he shoved his whole cock inside your available hole in one thrust, making you moan into Hongjoong’s ear.
“Now be a good little cocksleeve and stay still while we fuck you stupid.” Jongho ordered as he was slowly pulling on his length while you felt Hongjoong squirm beneath you and plant both his feet on the ground only to thrust up inside of you at the exact same time as Jongho.
You can't help but scream-moan as the two rods inside you grind against each other. You plant your manicured nails on Hongjoong’s shoulders, almost to the point of drawing blood making him arch his back and chuckle at the dull pain.
“Fuck yes!!” you cry out, hanging your head on Hongjoong’s shoulder as they move in unison to rearrange your guts. 
“That feels good, doll?” Hongjoong asks, continuously fucking his hips up into you.
“Yes. Yes. Yes, sir. I fucking love it” you say through gritted teeth trying your hardest not to let yourself cum from the sheer pressure the both apply in turns to your sweet spot.
“Yeah” Jongho added from behind you. “You love two cocks fucking you up like this?” He said squeezing your ass, nails digging in the supple flesh of your raw cheeks. 
“Yes Sir. I love both your cocks” you reply.
“Two cocks at the same time is the bare minimum for a whore like you right, baby?” he asks, landing a harsh slap on your bum. 
“Oh my god. Please can I cum now?” you ask in a strangled moan, knowing well enough by the way your pussy and ass are throbbing you won’t be able to hold back much longer. You are desperate for your release.
“Beg us for it.” Hongjoong said, his hands holding your waist down.
At this point you've lost consciousness of everything that isn't the two cocks slamming inside you right now. You can’t remember anything except for the unbearable pleasure you feel, making your walls clench and your center gush with wet and slimy arousal, coating the two man fucking you into your next life right now. If anybody asked you, you couldn’t even remember your own name. At this point you would do anything, anything at all, to finally grasp your climax. You only want one thing and it is to finally cum around these two cocks. And if you have to beg for it, so be it.
“Please. Please. Sir. Please let me cum for you. There's nothing I want more than to show you how I shake and scream for your cocks. Wanna cum for you, wanna give you the best show. Wanna make you cum inside my throbbing little hungry cunt” You struggle to say between moans, your voice interrupted by the incessant carousel of their thrusts inside your tired and shapeless little holes.
“Go ahead, doll. Cum.”
Finally you let go of that pressure building in your core, the burning pleasure spreading into your limbs and making you shake. Your cunt and ass violently throbbing and clenching on Jongho and Hongjoong. You cry and moan as tears of relief roll down on your cheeks.
“So fucking pretty cumming on our cocks, doll” Hongjoong praises as his hips become sloppy. “Want me to fill your pretty little cunt with my cum?” he asks, teeth grazing your ears. 
“Yes please, sir” you reply in a sob, your orgasm continuing to rip through you.
“Fucking take my cum deep in your ass, fucking whore” Jongho demands a he releases inside your throbbing little hole. 
“Yes Thank you sir”  you cry out, your ass clenching around the younger one’s thick cock. 
“Fuckkk” Hongjoong grunts as he finally cums inside you filling your wet hole with hot cum, the thick slimy and white liquid spilling and dripping down, joining the existing mess on the carpeted floor. 
The three of you ascending to your peaks at the same time in a beautiful unisson of moans and grunts. Until they gradually stop their hips smashing into yours. For a couple of minutes you all just lay there to catch your breath, all piled on top of each other. 
You feel strong arms helping you up and sitting you down on your heels.
When you come back from your high you see all eight men circling you, holding their cock in their hand. 
“There’s one last thing you want from us right Princess” Seonghwa, stroking his cock back to full hardness.
“Yes, sir.” You timidly say knowing there is only one box you haven't checked yet on the list.
“Ask nicely for it, baby” Mingi says, smirking, holding his huge dick.
You’re hesitant, biting your lip but you still say the words nonetheless.
“Please sirs, give me your piss” you utter.
“Good girl” Yeosang praises aiming his cock at you.
Then finally he lets out his hot piss onto your chest. The stream his warm and feels so fucking good on your skin, making you palm your breasts. Then a second stream joins and a third one and another one. Until they all are emptying their bladders on you, some even aiming their delicious piss to your face.
“Open your mouth, doll” Hongjoong asks smirking, relishing at the sight of you kneeling and begging to drink their nectar.
You part your lips and immediately the powerful streams hit you right on the tongue. The salty taste and the delicious warmth make your head spin, making you close your eyes and moan softly.
“How is it, kitten?” San asks, also pissing right into your open mouth.
“So delicious sir” you say gargling on the golden liquid and swallowing a big gulp only for your mouth to be filled again.
“Don’t waste it okay babygirl?” Yunho advises.
You nod your head,  placing both of your palms under your chin trying to catch as much as possible in your mouth and swallowing with big gulps. Until the flow lessens and the streams die down. Leaving the eight men satisfied and empty. Completely transed out by the beautiful sight of their perfect little toy ruined to perfection.
After that you barely have enough time to summarily wash up (meaning roughly wipe away the smudged makeup, cum and sweat with a hot towel and hop back into your former uniform) before you have to fasten your seat belt again. 
The descent is smooth, in this general euphoria there’s nothing awkward left between you and the members. After being so intimate with each other there’s no place left for embarrassment or discomfort. You are even able to crack a few jokes and communicate light heartedly. Except for the stain on the carpeted floor and the remnants of your endeavors in your hair there was no way of knowing what had happened between all of you only minutes ago.
As they disembarked the jet Hongjoong gave you one last small paper bag. He insisted that it was more than well deserved after the service of the highest quality you provided.
“Really I insist” he says, pushing the small bag into your hands. “Please take this and open it as soon as you get the time” he says before glancing back at his members waiting for him a little further already geared up with the beanies, bucket hats, sun glasses and masks. 
“Thank you very much” you said bowing your head respectfully. “Thank you for choosing Air France, we hope to see you soon” you said waving goodbye at them while they disappeared in the elbowed tube.
You sat on the bench and opened the small bag to find huge stacks of cash in 500 euros bills. Your heart almost looped in your chest and you thanked yourself to have chosen to sit before opening the final gift. You found a small card inside it.
We wanted to get you enough that you could retire if you wanted to. But we really hope you don’t ;)...
See you soon y/n.
-8 makes 1 girl cream, Ateez
ps: it was mingi’s idea.
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you read the whole thing and you survived please answer this poll? it would help me so much! <3
a/n: so?? how was it?? honestly im so so happy to present that to you finally! i've had this idea first since 2020 and it took 3 whole years for the idea to be shaped into something that i could actually write then actually taking the time to write and edit and publish... so pleaseeee tell me you enjoyed if you did. in the comments or in my asks if you wanna stay anon 🥸 (especially if you read the watersports and you liked it. im scared about publishing something like this so reassure me pls <3). you really have no idea how happy it would make me if you left a nice comment. honeslty just come fuel my praise kink please 🥺. that being said im thankful you read it wether you choose to react or not and ily <3
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when you're missing me...
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10 songs, from you to him.
summary: charles goes track by track as he deals with the sadness of losing you. pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader (affectionately nicknamed dove) word count: 14k (i'm so sorry) warnings: not proofread, poorly translated french -- translation in small font next to french text, cussing, charles being whiney and kind of pathetic sorry, mentions of alcohol, alludes to sexual themes, descriptions of anxiety and poor mental health. probably inaccurate descriptions of the car and its functions. absolutely no interaction between charles and reader until around the 5th/6th song so fair warning. note: here is my first ever f1 fic and of course, it had to be about charles. i have been working on this for about a month now and i am finally done. this is super long, i nearly split it but it didn't feel right. im also a 1000% sure this makes no sense but im posting it anyways. i hope you like it and if not thats okay too! tagging @stressfc and @sidcrosbyspuck bc they've listened to me try to muscle through the end of this. feedback is always appreciated.
Dinner was quiet, just the soft hum of classical instrumental playing in the background with the compliments of silverware clanging against porcelain plates. Charles stares at the pasta sitting idly on his plate, his fork twirling the noodles but never lifting it to his mouth. The girl across from him seems to dwindle on and on about her work, something about a new projects and exciting opportunities. He couldn’t seem to listen tonight, there was something eerie in the air tonight and it made him feel uneasy.  She doesn’t take notice though, too busy enjoying his presence and the fine dining restaurant Charles is treating her to. 
She wasn’t a gold digger by any means, and she was satisfied with the more simpler things life had to offer. It was one of Charles’ favorite things about her, and that’s why when he had the chance he’d treat her to a little bit of luxury that he can afford. She was sweet, bubbly, with a little bite when it comes to things she’s passionate about. Her eyes were warm and bright with life, and on most nights it was enough to set fire in his heart. But tonight, it simply wasn’t the case. 
Dinner was over as quickly as it started, Charles chucking the quick end to the night to being tired and having a long day ahead of him. She was understanding as usual, and it dug a pit in his heart. She bid him goodnight, a quick kiss to his lips, and he watches as she walks away. Charles waited until she was in her building before he driving back to his apartment, the car ride silent. He slows to a stop at a red and idly scrolls through his Spotify account to find a playlist to fill the space. And then he scrolls past one he hadn’t listened to in months. He taps the one titled ‘when you’re missing me’ quick to press shuffle as the light flicks green. His foot is steady on the gas, as the first out of ten songs play. 
Nothing - Bruno Major
Bruno’s soft voice plays over the car speaker, the first verse taking him back to nights spent on the couch with a glass of red wine, a good movie, and his favorite person. He remembers the soft voices, chaste kisses, and gentle fingers tousling his brown hair. He hums along, merging right and off the busy roads to take the side streets. Taking the long way home seemed like the best option for tonight, the twists and turns reminding him of being on the track— his safest place in the world. 
But there’s nothing, like doing nothing, with you. The lyric makes his heart plummet into his stomach before trying to climb up his throat. There’s a sense of nostalgia that washes over him as the song plays on, remembering the feeling of listening to it as he passes the time miles and miles away from you. He smiles at your thoughtfulness, how you carefully picked ten simple songs to fill the time you both spent apart. Ten songs, nearly forty minutes to keep him afloat for maybe days at a time. Forty minutes to make missing you a little less painful.
Or in this case, a little more. 
The first time he heard this song, it was played live in concert and you found a video circulating online of the performance. You gushed on and on about how cute the lyrics were, the sentiment behind the song, and the evident tears glossing over your eyes when you listened to it the first time. You were both just friends at the time, and he could remember the butterflies fluttering in his stomach as you pined for affections that the artist described in his song, his thought taking him to possibilities of him being able to fulfill those needs. But of course, he simply wiped the lone tear that rolled down your cheek and smiled.
“It’s okay, mon cherie.” 
The first time he ever kissed you was to the very same song, a month later. He was just a little tipsy off of his celebratory P1 champagne, footsteps stumbling from the motorhome into your car as you readied to drive him home. He was all smiles, dimples deep and eyes bright despite being slightly hooded with alcohol. 
“Ah, mon amour, it was the best race I think I’ve ever driven. Did you see?”
“I did. I saw the whole thing bug.” 
Charles smiles at the memory of the affectionate nickname, rubbing his index finger against his bottom lip as he remembers the excitement he felt bursting through his skin when he had leaned over the middle counsel to kiss you. He remember your soft, plump lips, surprised but quick to mold into his. It was short, fiery, blurring the lines of friendship the two of you desperately tried to define. The song came up on shuffle, following one Charles’ hazy mind at the time could not seem to place. 
… nothing like doing nothing with you…
Together — Us the Duo
Charles didn’t like too many English songs, and when he did they were ones that play on the radio every thirty minutes. This song, he found deep in her liked songs. One Saturday morning, free from distractions, no responsibilities on either end of the relationship except to be in each other’s company. He likes to think you put this song in the playlist because of the day he found it and played it.
He can hear you singing softly, feel the ghost of your fingers caressing his cheek as the song goes no matter what you’re going through, I’ll be right next to you. Goosebumps rise on his skin at the memory of your touch and the lump in his throat grows larger. This is when he should change the song, change the playlist, switch over to some house music playlist Lando shared with him months ago that he has yet to listen to. But he couldn’t. He eases up on the gas, making another right turn to drive down another straight. 
“You are doing just fine, just take it one turn at a time baby.” 
Charles hung on to every word that you ever said, but these words especially. It was words that he held near to him, at the forefront of his mind whether he was on the track staring down the rear of a Red Bull, or just simply trying to get through a tough mental day. One turn at a time, your version of “just keep swimming.” It was a take from an old movie, and one of your favorite books, but personal to the both of you. 
This song was long forgotten in the last three months. He wishes that he remembered it for all the terrible days he spent up in his own head, without you to bring him down. Maybe, for just 3 minutes and 36 seconds, he could pretend that you were singing it to him. He could hear your sweet voice singing ‘if you ever need a hand to hold, reach out and I’ll grab yours.’ 
The skin of his right hand burned at the memory of yours, and his heart nearly sunk into his stomach. He hated this. He hated being alone, hated that you aren’t in the seat next to him. But most of all, he hated that seeing you was not an option at the end of this playlist.
Hesitate — Jonas Brothers 
The first concert you both ever attended together was a Jonas Brothers concert in Las Vegas. It wasn’t intentional, you fully planned on bringing your best friend with you but her flight was delayed. And although it was between back to back race weekends, Charles didn’t have many obligations before the next one and you were fairly great at convincing him to join you. Of course he knew who the Jonas Brothers are, and of course he knew at least two of their songs. But if he were being completely honest with himself and the universe listening, he only went because you asked him. 
On any normal weekend before back to back races, Charles would be scribbling in his little blue notebook and reading through his self-critical notes from the last several months of the season. He would jot down his ideas and feelings about the previous race, and his hopes and ambitions for the one yet to come. And it was Las Vegas. Notorious for the gambling and glamorous night life. A glamour he could afford for the both of you. And yet, that Thursday night he found himself in the furthest section to the left, the three brothers only about three inches tall from his view, with you screaming every lyric back with such enthusiasm. He wouldn’t trade that moment for the world. 
The night slowed down considerably, Joe’s (your favorite, at least that’s what you yelled to him about fifty times leading up to this very moment) voice booming over the speaker and filling the arena. Your hand was quick to find his own, fingers slotting between his own as you laid your head on his shoulder. You would never know, but he spent the entirety of the song looking down at you. He savored every second your lips moved to the song, the twinkle in your eyes as you stared down at the three piece.
I thank the ocean for giving me you, you saved me once and now I’ll save you too. Charles always thanked the sea and the waves for washing him to shore, right at your mercy. He’d never tell you, but the song brought tears to his eyes. He would never, ever, admit that he shed a tear listening to that very song and the thought of you. It seemed premature to admit to you just several months in that he might be falling in love with you. That maybe, just maybe, you were it for him. 
He pressed a soft kiss on your head, “Je suis en train de tomber amoureux de toi. Et vous ne le savez même pas. Pas encore.” I’m falling in love with you. And you don’t even know it. Not yet.
His whisper was drowned out in a sea of screams as the song comes to a close, and he knows you didn’t hear him. His heart screams at the memory of your glossy eyes as you looked up at him and moved up to the tip of your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. Sometimes he wishes that he would’ve just said it to you, screamed it for all of fifteen-something thousand people to hear and witness. Fuck the idea, the social constructs of timing and whether it was appropriate. He shouldn’t have hesitated to tell you how much his heart swells when you’re near him, how he desires nothing more to keep you close to him for the rest of his days. 
Maybe if he opened his god damn mouth then he couldn’t lived in your affections for longer than he got. 
Charles couldn’t bear to waste gas much longer, so he made a final left turn and back to his apartment complex. He pulls his car into the numbered slot, and takes quick steps to his empty home. Charles tries to ignore the dull feeling of his home, the mess he had yet to clean since returning from the last race, and instead dives into replying to texts he had missed since he decided to take an extra twenty minutes to get home. 
Pierre’s name lights up the screen as Charles rolls into bed. 
I can come up with beer if you need it. I saw you drive in a circle before getting home. Maybe you need beer. 
Charles curses softly, forgetting that his best friend has his location and is more often than not keeping tabs on his habits. He rolls his eyes, replying to Pierre that he can in fact make his way up as long as he has a six pack in hand. The Monegasque does his best to tidy up, tossing laundry in its place and putting dishes in the dish washer. By the time Pierre’s soft knocks are heard, Charles is just about satisfied with the way his home looks. He unlocks the door without opening it, but the Frenchman has no problem letting himself in, greeting his friend cheerfully as he shuts the door behind him.
“I was thinking of inviting Carlos, or maybe Max over with me too. But I figured my company was enough, no?”
Charles lets out a chuckle, sitting at the table and nodding for Pierre to do the same. “Sure, mate.” 
Pierre grins, handing Charles a bottle before sitting across from him. “Knew it.” He pops the bottle open, taking a quick drink before looking at his best friend. “So what now? Why the extra twenty minutes out on the road?”
“You know, it’s really creepy that you keep tabs on my location like that.” 
“I just care. And stop deflecting. What’s wrong?”
Charles nibbles his lip, spinning the amber bottle on the table to watch the liquid slosh against the light. He debated if he should bring up his thoughts of you for the n-th time. Pierre must be tired of it, Charles thinks to himself. He looks up, his friend’s baby blues waiting patiently for him to speak up. He sighs softly, popping open his bottle and holding it up to his lips. 
“Things don’t feel right with Hannah.” That’s how Charles chooses to start the conversation. It isn’t a lie, but it also isn’t the reason for his extra 20 minutes. 
“The American girl?” Pierre asks, leaning back into his chair.
Charles nods, “Yeah. I dunno man… I like her I do but”—
“But she’s not your Dove.”
There it is. Charles didn’t have to say it. His heart seems to crack at the use of your. You weren’t his, no longer his little Dove.
Pierre watches as his best friend nods, finally taking a drink from his beer. There is a blanket of comfortable silence that falls between the two racers. This isn’t unfamiliar territory for Pierre. He is very much aware of the torment in Charles’ head since the break up. He was there for all the drunk nights and silent tears. Pierre has never seen his best friend so torn up over a girl, and truth be told he was worried when Charles jumped into a new connection with the American girl. 
“I don’t know anymore mate… this fucking sucks.” Charles rests his head in his hands, rubbing his tired eyes. “This isn’t normal, to constantly compare her to… to you know. That isn’t fair to Hannah, or really anyone for that matter.”
“No… but it takes time to move past that.” Pierre responds. “It still hurts now, it hasn’t been that long since the two of you parted ways.” 
“Three months mate.”
“Yeah, out of a fourteen month relationship.” 
Charles shakes his head, taking another drink. “Still seems too long.” 
“Well… do you really want to stop feeling this way?”
Charles looks at his best friend incredulously, “What the fuck kind of question is that?!”
“Well Charles, you seem to be the only one holding onto this relationship between the two of you. You just have this… this grip on something that’s over even though it’ll probably never come back to you.” 
Pierre’s nonchalant tone catches him off guard, and even more so that the man in front of him still manages to drink his beer without cowering under his angry gaze. The Frenchman’s word feels like a match is lit in his chest. Charles suddenly couldn’t breathe.
“Switching up your opinions?” 
Pierre raises his brow. “What? No. I still think it’s normal to be strung up on a relationship three months out. But at the same time, Charles you don’t make an actual effort to move forward. I mean even Hannah isn’t much of a move in the right direction considering that they even look similar. Being in a relationship just to be in one, right after one you actually valued isn’t actually a great tactic to moving on. And you’re still listening to her playlist” 
“How do you know that?”
“Okay I didn’t check on purpose, don’t look at me like that. I just happened to be making a new race playlist and saw your activity.” 
Charles groans softly, cheeks turning pink. He was a little embarrassed and made a mental note to change his Spotify settings. “Fuck.”
“Listen, I’m not going to knock you for how you choose to heal and move on. I’m your best friend, and I’m here for you. But I’m just saying… your way isn’t a very good way.” 
Race weekends are his favorite. There isn’t anywhere he would rather be than on a race track in any given city in the world. The smell of rubber against the hot asphalt was always something that made him feel most at home. If there was something Charles knew for sure in the world, it’s that he was meant to be behind the wheel of an F1 car racing speeds up to 200 miles per hour. The adrenaline pumps through him simply at the thought of it.
Silverstone is a track he’s fairly comfortable with and has yet to win. But for the first time, Charles didn’t crave to win. Of course, standing on the tallest podium would be a plus, but truth be told he just wanted to get behind the wheel. The two week break was more than enough, much more than he needed. He just couldn’t wait to just sit in the car, uninterrupted for two hours with nothing but the road in front of him and his team in his ears. Charles was more than ready to hop in the car right now, if it weren’t for media appearances and fan obligations. 
Carlos isn’t blind, and he knows his teammate quite well. When the camera shuts off after their hour of filming another C-squared episode, Carlos can’t help but to point out the unusual jitters emitting from Charles. “You good?”
Charles looks up at his teammate. “Huh? Yeah, why?”
“You just seem ready to leave, more than usual.” 
“Just ready to get in the car, mate.” Charles hopes his voice is convincing. Hopes that the fake excitement he placed in his eye is enough to stop Carlos’s inquiries. He was worried that the Spaniard would ask about you, and truly Charles can’t handle another conversation about you and how he’s handling life without you. 
“Aren’t you always?” Carlos rolls his eyes playfully, patting Charles’ back. “See you later. Gonna go workout.”
The two split ways and Charles heads back to his hotel room. The rest of Charles’ day is scheduled to be fairly quiet. There were no other social obligations left for the day, just an hour of uninterrupted rest before an event with sponsors that his PR team emphasized the importance of only ten times in one meeting. But for the next hour, Charles retreats to his room with his little blue notebook and sits at the tiny desk. He begins to jot down notes from the track walk, taking notes of turns that might be of concern to him, and what kind of tires he is likely to start with. He flips between his strategy notes and his idea list, seeing if there are tweaks he can make that he can bring up for discussion before free practice the next day. 
Charles writes until his hand begins to ache. All of twenty minutes fly by before he has to drop the pen between the pages to try and shake the pain away. In the same instance, his phone lights up with texts from his friends who were trying to meet him before their schedules get too busy. He swipes through a few, not bothering to reply and instead opting to lay in bed to relax a little bit. He pops in his AirPods without question, scrolling through his song library in search of a song he could fall asleep to. His bottom lip moves between his teeth as he ponders over your playlist, and finds his finger swiping through his library til he spots that playlist. 
Charles triple checks that he changed his listening activity to private before playing the next song.
If I Could Fly — One Direction
This is by far the cheesiest song that you put on the playlist. But those were your words, not his. He remembers you told him how you even hesitated to add it in but ultimately decided that it was the only song that made sense to you and your reasoning. 
Charles thinks back to Silverstone a year ago. He was in a room much similar to the one he is sat in, but you were there. Granted, you were on a screen on his little iPhone but you were there. It was rather frustrating to be a driver for a struggling team like Ferrari was at the time.  He had you propped up against the lamp, the warm light illuminating his dull features. You watched him attentively, laying on your hands as you wait for him to speak up. You both knew that the race didn’t go as he had hoped, and there weren’t many things that you could say to him that he hasn’t heard from everyone that day. So you sit in silence, waiting for him to say just about anything so that you could pick up on him. 
“Just not the result I wanted.” Charles finally mumbled. He hears you hum, sitting up and pulling your phone closer to your face about to begin your “boost morale” speech, but he cuts you off. “Wish you were here, Dove.” 
You smile, a tinge of sadness in your eyes. “I know. I know and I’m sorry. You know if I could, I would.” 
He nods. “I know. I don’t want to talk about today anymore. I want to talk about your day, I want to talk about you.”
So you indulged. You told him about your day, of all the people you had come across at your job and how you looked forward to your next day off. He hung on to every single word that slipped past your lips. He let you ramble on and on, all the way til he made it to bed and snuggled with you, still on the phone in the same state. 
“Are you feeling better, Bub?” You asked, yawning softly as you snuggled deeper into the covers.
“Yes. Much better. And I see you in two days, so I’ll be even better then.” He smiled, and you smile even wider.
He could never forget your smile, even if he tried to scrub it out physically. He groans softly, turning on his back and letting the voices soak into the back of his mind, drowning every memory of you. 
Right now I’m completely defenseless. Tears spring up and sting his soft green eyes as the song continues to play. He hasn’t cried in a while, at least not while thinking of you. He’s cried in anger, in frustration, but never in sadness and loneliness like he feels right now. He didn’t think a One Direction song would bring him to tears, but yet here he is curled up on the white duvet as tears roll down his pale skin. Fuck he hates this so much. And fuck did he feel pathetic.
“Baise-moi.” Fuck me. He sits up, rubbing the heel of his hand against his cheeks to wipe the wet away.
He sniffles, swiping through his phone to reply to a few texts that sprung up on his phone. He replies to Pierre, the nosy fucker, and Carlos who lets him know that they will meet in the lobby before leaving to the event. Charles makes a silly mistake to scroll even further, past the blue dots of unread texts all the way down to your name. Well, your affectionate nickname. It’s one coined by Daniel ironically, and the only one that followed you around the paddock. Even Mattia referred to you as dove. Your dove, as Mattia would say to Charles. 
The last text you ever sent to him was I’m sorry. He didn’t have the guts to reply, to say that it was okay because truly, he was not. He scrolls up, past all the pining in blue and curt responses in grey. He scrolls past the hearts and the smiling emojis all the way until he finds the long paragraph with your explanation for the song.
There isn’t a day when you’re off in some country while I’m stuck at home, wishing that I could just fly over to you. And I didn’t want to add a One Direction song, it almost feels silly. But it makes sense. And I hope you feel the same way otherwise I’m just some psycho on the other side of this. I know these last couple of races haven’t been what you wanted them to be, and I know that you are frustrated more than anything else. But please know that me and thousands still believe in you. If I could fly all those thousands of miles to see you, then I would. But I will see you in two days time. Then I will make up for all the shit times. See you soon bub, very very soon. Bonne nuit, fais de beaux rêves chérie. Good night, sweet dreams honey
Charles nibbles on his bottom lip, finally pressing skip on the repetitive chorus. He couldn’t take it anymore
At My Worst — Pink Sweat$ (ft. Kehlani)
Charles forces himself off the bed and into the bathroom. His hair is disheveled, the skin around his eyes purple and puffy. He truly has never looked worse. He does his regular skin care, and then attempts to get ahold of his messy hair with some pomade Pierre swears by. It doesn’t work. 
As Charles slips on the black blazer over his shoulders, he nearly wants to throw up. He’d do anything to get out of this dinner, pay anything to just sit in solitude. But alas, his phone vibrates and Carlos is already waiting in the lobby for him. Charles pops his AirPods in, clicking play on the next song on the playlist. It’s more upbeat than the last couple of songs, and if it weren’t for the mere fact it was on a playlist you made for him, he would be bopping along. 
“Finally mate,” Carlos greets, standing from the lounge chair he was sitting in. “C’mon, I’ll drive.” 
Charles smiles at the few fans who were waiting, leaning into some photos and politely turning away autographs due to lack fo time. His teammate doesn’t make any conversation, which Charles is thankful for. He knew it was a bit rude to keep his earphones in but he just needs this. And he thinks that Carlos knows. 
When you first showed him this song, you were in the driver’s seat and singing to him. You wanted to show him your favorite spot to get away, a little bite of paradise that you had never shown anyone. He thinks back to your hair whipping in the wind, sunglasses framing your face nicely as you grinned over at him. The memory of kisses at red lights and giggles along the way burn his lips. He has to rub them again, to remind himself that it was no longer real. 
Can you see what I'm not saying from my eyes?. All I know is love, for you it's real. You pulled your sunglasses to the edge of your nose, shooting him a wink. He laughed, leaning in to kiss you. He never ever wanted to stop kissing you. Never. 
“Here.” 
Charles nods and pulls his AirPods out, placing them back in the case and tossing them into the glove box of the loaned Ferrari. The event goes as every event goes, with forced conversations as Charles tries to wow sponsors about the potential Ferrari has yet to tap with their help. He does his best, but after the fourth conversation he’s spent and wishes that he ended up bringing his AirPods down. But Mattia would have his neck, so he settles for the only beer he is allowed for the night. He watches as Carlos speaks to another aged man, a wide smile on his lips as he shakes the man’s hand and walks away. The Spaniard raises is brows with an exasperated expression.
“Eso fue demasiado.” That was too much. Carlos mumbles, plopping next to Charles. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah. Just tired. Didn’t get to nap.” Carlos clicks his tongue and Charles chuckles.
“What song were you listening to in the car?” The man leans back into the chair, drinking his water.
“Ah… just an old one a friend showed me a while ago.”
“Who? Dove?”
Charles is quick to shake his head, “Pfft, no.” 
The look on his friend’s face shows that he is unconvinced, but he chooses not to comment. “Have you spoken to her?”
“No. Of course not.”
Carlos nods, “Just asking. She still talks to Lando every now and again. Saw them on FaceTime in-.” 
“Carlos, please.” Charles chokes on air, shaking his head and effectively shutting his teammate up. “Sorry… I just can’t.”
There is a pang of jealousy that runs through Charles’ blood. Why wouldn’t you talk to Lando? He was one of your closest friends, long before the two of you were anything. He tries to coax himself off a cliff of insecurity he built himself in the short span of time. Nothing works, and if he didn’t know any better he would think that Carlos could see the smoke fuming from his ears.
“Sorry. Listen, if it means anything at all… she’s not seeing anyone.” 
Charles nods, not sparing another word on the matter. The night dwindles to a close in a bout twenty minutes time, and Carlos drives the both of them home. One AirPod returns to his ear, the song from earlier picking up from where it left off. 
And for you, girl, I swear I'd do the worst.  He would. He would do anything for you. If you called him right this second and asked him to fly to you, he would. Hell or high water he’d find a way. His phone vibrates, and he looks down in hope. But it dies as quickly as it comes, Hannah’s name illuminating his screen in the form of a FaceTime call. He leaves it to ring, looking out the window and patiently waiting for the song to resume. 
-
Silverstone was an absolute shit show. From the red flag to the shit strategy that costed him a podium, he was not doing well. He did his best to keep up with appearances, answered questions with the list of generic answers he had memorized in the back of his head from years of media training. But he knew, there was no hiding the disappointment in his features. You always said his eyes gave him away. 
Charles barely kept it together through the team photo, his hand gripping the energy drink in his hand as he bites down in the back of his mouth to smile at the camera. He has never left the track faster in his life. The ride back to the hotel was accompanied by dull British radio and his phone going off with calls and texts from people checking up on him. He didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to discuss the day further. When he finally rolls into his bed, his fingers move ahead of his mind, and he calls a name before even reading it. 
It rings once. twice. thrice. It rings until your voicemail plays. Sweet, soft melodic voice reminding him of the beep. He wished you picked up, even if it was to say never to call you again. But he settled for the recording before speaking. 
“Hi… sorry. I just needed to talk to someone but you must be busy. Or…. tu ne veux pas me parler. You don't want to talk to me. That’s fine.” Charles pauses, wondering if this was worth it. But he sighs and continues anyways, “Today wasn’t a good day. Je suis vraiment bouleversé en ce moment. I’m really upset right now. You always knew what to say, so I thought I’d call. Sorry. I lo— Bye.” 
Charles hangs up before he can make himself an even bigger fool of himself. He shakes his head, dropping his phone next to him on the bed. A groan rumbles from his throat, frustration growing within him. He fucking hated his situation. He hated not winning, of slipping through the cracks, of feeling alone while being surrounded by people who want to help him. He hated that in his mind, you the only thing that could cure the sick feeling in his stomach.  
He flies back to Monaco the same night, opting out of a celebratory trip for Carlos. He apologized, promising his teammate a treat of sorts when they see each other again. Hannah was so kind to pick him up, even if he insisted he could’ve just taken a cab. Nonsense, she said on the phone. She was so excited to see him, and Charles felt bad for ignoring her for the last couple of days. Charles held her hand, kissed her sweetly, invited her up, buried himself in her in all attempts to forget about the weekend behind him, to forget that he had made a fool of himself. He wanted to forget that he tried to call you. But as he lays in his bed, watching her chest rise and fall with every breath, he finds himself wishing you had answered. He wished that you were there instead. 
Charles finally gets around to answering some texts, opting to go sit in his living room since the jet lag refused to let him sleep. He sent many ‘thank yous’ to friends and family, curt responses to fool one into thinking that he was fine. He types and types until his eyes are raw and there wasn’t a single text left unread. By the time Charles put’s his phone down, it’s nearly three in the morning. His mind is a jumble of thoughts, of the hopes of the future and troubles of the past. He grabs his little blue journal on the table and begins to write furiously. He writes every hazy thought, laying the words out on the page before him until his hand burns and eyes are blurred with tears. His breathing turns heavy, heart racing, the anger finally getting the best of him. He has to drop the pen on the table. Every part of his body is burning with exhaustion, but his mind continues to race and effectively keep him awake. 
Life moves in waves, and Charles feels as though his dip is deeper than most times he can recall in his brief 24 year stint on earth. There were many lows, but he always knew that he’d find a way up and out of it. But now, with his career, wounded ego, and more so his injured heart, it seems that the riptide continues to drag him under. It’s began to get harder and harder to breath in life, and he was worried that it would continue to feel that way. He was worried that he wouldn’t be able to swim up, and that scared him.  
“Charles?” 
The Monegasque jumps in his seat, turning to see Hannah watching him from the door frame of his room. 
“Y’scared me.” He mumbles, standing up and walking over to her and planting a soft kiss on her forehead. “Go to back to bed Han, I’ll be there in a second.” 
Her hand rests on his chest whilst his rest comfortably on her hip. He squeezes gently, smiling tiredly at her. Her large brown eyes dart left and right, searching his face for a clue as to what he might be feeling but found nothing. She couldn’t read him, not matter how hard she tried. “Why don’t you talk to me?”
Charles tilts his head, “Comment cela?” What do you mean?
“There’s something going on in your head, like a storm. And I try to read you, and to understand, but I feel like every time I try you move further from me.” 
Charles’ hand drops from her as he takes a step back, “There isn’t anything to talk about Hannah.” 
“I think that there is. Why won’t you-“
“Ça suffit! That’s enough! Leave it. Please.” 
The man doesn’t notice the way she jumped when he raised his voice, or the sadness brewing in her eyes as they gloss over in tears. He simply walks away to his kitchen, leaving her standing in the doorway, confused and hurt. He can’t feel bad, he can’t feel anything other than exhaustion. Charles pours himself a glass of water, gulping it down before smacking it back on the counter. Any harder and the glass would’ve broken. Hannah walks into the kitchen, and he fights the urge to groan. 
“Do you not want me here? Because I can leave Charles. I’ll go and let you sulk here. By yourself.” 
He doesn’t answer, just sinks his head into his hands and shutting his eyes. His calloused fingers grip the ends of his hair, tugging in attempts to pull him out of the tiredness he is feeling. 
“Charles-“
“Hannah. Please, please, please.” The worlds come out in mumbles. Soft, but very grim. “Not now.”
“I don’t know what else I can do for you Charles.” Her voice is soft, but it was missing something. “How can I help you? Help me understand. Help me help you Charles.”
Guilt eats him up at the sound of her voice, the willingness, the want to be there with him even when he is unmistakably pushing her away. Tears spring to his eyes, seeping through his closed lids and onto the heel of his hands. Fuck, he thinks. He knows his answer, he knows the words he wants to say. It sits in the back of his throat, burning and bubbling past his lips. Charles forces himself to look up from his hands, the light in the kitchen burning his eyes. Hannah’s are soft, worried at the sight of Charles’ red and sad eyes as he looks up at her.
“You can’t.” His voice comes out broken, and she doesn’t fully register what he means. “You can’t help me Hannah. I can’t even help myself.”
She doesn’t respond, just looks at him with sad eyes. Her hand comes up to push his brown locks off his forehead before cupping his cheek. Hannah just presses a kiss to his forehead, lips lingering longer than he’d anticipated. There is a bit of a weight in the silence between them, and it allows the guilt in the Monegasque to fester even more. He coughs out a sob, shaking his head and pulling away from the soft embrace, one he knows he does not deserve.
“I’ll go.” Hannah says softly, “I’ll leave you. And when you’re ready-“
“Hannah, no,” Charles shakes his head, “You don’t get it it. You can’t help me, because I don’t want you to. You aren’t who I need, who I want.”
The girl stood before him, his harsh words causing her jaw to fall slack and tears to gloss over her eyes. There were a string of regrets and hateful words that fall from her lips, accusations of time wasted and the promise of never being able to forgive him. He watched her as she gathered herself and sauntered out of his life. With the slam of the door, Charles released a breath and groaned as he plops onto his couch. And finally, exhaustion takes its toll and pulls him into a deep slumber.
—  
His family boat had finally gotten out of the shop during his little break, and he decides to take it out onto the water. He spent many summer as a child, out in the deep blue. He enjoyed the peace, the feeling of being far away from such a busy world. His father taught him how to drive the boat, and where the best places to dock was. Charles didn’t drive out too far, just enough for his city to be covered by his thumb if he held it out. He strips himself of the blue button up and sits out on the deck. He is quick to open Spotify, playing the next song on the playlist on the boat speaker.
Keep Driving — Harry Styles
Charles lays back, the sun hitting his pale skin and warming him up. He tries to enjoy the sound of the waves against the side of the boat and the poppy beat of the song playing. He tries to enjoy the world around him for what it is, enjoy his solitude for what it is. But even in the peace he’s found himself in, his mind races. He thinks about Monaco and Canada, even the race just a week before. The universe hasn’t been too kind with him, both on and off the track. 
Harry Styles is a world renowned artist, and he would be lying if he said that he didn’t like a lot of his songs. His most recent album was his— and your— favorite. The poppy beat playing over the speaker brings a smile to his lips, the memory of drive out of to the port and this very song playing in his car. He remembers the way the wind whips through your hair, your hand moving up and down in the quick moving air. His sunglasses adorned your face, as did his Monza hoodie. From head to toe, you were dripping in him. 
You turned to face him, a smile on your lips as you leaned over to press a kiss to his jaw. Maple syrup, coffee. Pancakes for two. He would never forger the way your lips felt against him as you peppered kisses up his jaw. Hash brown, egg yolk. I will always love you.
You moved onto your knees, turning in your seat to look at him. As the song sped up, so did you. You sung along with Harry, your voice all the more appealing to him. It was easy to tune the man out and listen to you. He pulled up to his space, putting his car in park and allowing you to finish out the song. A smile curves onto his lips at the memory of you popping off your seatbelt, leaning over the middle console to get closer to him. He couldn’t help himself in that moment, his hand grabbing the back of your neck to kiss you feverishly. Choke her, with a sea view.
Goosebumps prickle his skin, and his shorts begin to tighten at the thought of the cramped backseat and your warmth.
He sits on the bow of Monza, blue notebook in hand as he flips through the pages he had crammed with his thoughts. He stops at one dated two months ago, a letter addressed to you. 
Dove, 
One month without you seems too long. I miss you, but I know you’re doing well and that is the only thing keeping me away. Not having you here with me, at my home race no less, feels wrong. It feels empty. Everything feels empty without you. 
One month of being without you has been my personal torture, and I can’t seem to get anything right anymore. I wish that I could call, to just hear your voice and sound advice. But that would be selfish of me, would it not. So instead I write. I write letters to you, ones you will never read. It’s the only thing that makes sense to do. 
I’m sorry I was no longer good for you, and I’m sorry that it took you walking away from me to realize that I needed to do more. Your happiness, though away from me, is the only thing I find comfort in throughout this fucked up situation I find myself. At least you’re happy. Even if I’m not.
I love you. 
Charles
His handwriting was slanted, sloppy, the words quickly strung out on the page. It was one he wrote two minutes before qualifying, where he earned pole position. He’d imagine you would be happy for him, that if you were there you would greet him with kisses and a tight hug. You would say how proud you are of him, shower him in kind words. He flips the page, the letter he wrote after the race.
Dove. It hurts more than it should. Come home, I need you.
Hollywood Forever — Finneas
The music slowed down considerably, the soft notes of the piano vibrating through the speaker. D major, then G major, in sequence until Finneas’ voice serenades him softly. Bury me in Hollywood, forever… underneath the starry sky. Charles maneuvers his way from the bow of the yacht to the wheel, turning the engine on and turning back around to cruise home. The sun has moved down considerably, nearly kissing the ocean. The sky turns from blue to pink before his eyes, the lights of Monaco flickering on. Home has never looked more beautiful. For the briefest of moments he is able to relish in his city and appreciate. With the accompaniment of the soft music, he felt like he was falling in love all over again. 
Monaco was always his city, but never yours. Maybe that was the disconnect. He always expressed his desire to live in Monaco at the end of his career, to raise his family on the same streets he did. And in all the times he shared those dreams with you, you’d smile and nod, never really saying much. He assumed then that it was because you simply agreed, but maybe you didn’t. 
I don't ever wanna find out how it ends…
This song played at your best friend’s wedding. The couple having their first dance, and in turn invited couples to join them as the song changes. He offered you his hand, which you gracefully took and allowed him to lead you to the dance floor. And though it was crowded with people in love, to him it was just the two of you. His hands rested comfortably on your hips while your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck. There were no words, just longing looks that read with so much love and hope. Hope for the future you both dreamed of. Love for one another, one you both believed would never end. Ignorance truly was bliss. 
Missed you harder than I thought I'd get to, we just never had the time. Maybe it was his inconsistent schedule, the fluctuation of time spent together and apart no longer suited your needs. This season had shown Charles his ability to reach new heights, it made reaching for the stars a little less scary. For a moment in time, he had everything in his grasp. And then one by one, they all seemed to trickle through his fingers like sand. Perhaps, he was just no longer enough for you. 
And I don't wanna change the station, because you're the only one I like at 2AM. You would always be enough for him, Charles thought. Even miles away, apart from him, happier without him, it was enough for him. He can live in satisfaction that at least you got it right. 
He ties off his boat onto the pier, pausing the song so that he can continue listening on his drive home. A bag of his belongings slung over his shoulder, and his phone in one hand as he mindlessly taps your name to call you again. Just as it was in Silverstone, your sweet voicemail rings through the speaker.
“Hi. Drove out to our spot today, and was thinking about everything. Thinking about you. I’m sorry I called you last week, it was kind of selfish… well really selfish actually. I’m sorry. I hope you’re well… I hope you’re happy. I really do. I lo—“ He hesitates, throat closing up as the words try to roll off his tongue as effortlessly as it once did. Tears prickle his eyes but he shakes his head. “I won’t call you again. I’m sorry.” 
He ends the call and stuffs his phone in his pocket.
— 
Charles seems to fuck up everything in his path. He can’t hold onto a piece of good very long. The World Drivers Championship was beyond him now, and summer break now marked the halfway point of the season. He was meant to take a break, forget about spinning out and questionable strategy. But he can only spend so many days under the scorching Monaco sun, or nights out at clubs with his friends. His mind was not on break mode, and no matter how much he drank, slept, or swam, he was still thinking of work.
“Charles honey, get off your phone.” His mom scolds, patting his head as she passes him.
He lets his phone slide from his fingers, dropping onto his lap. Charles smiles over at his mom, standing from his seat and walking over to the kitchen. He attempts to steal a bite of food, but his mother slaps his hand away and he giggles. 
“‘M hungry.” 
“I know. But we need to wait for your brothers.” She mumbles, “Go eat a banana or something.” She waves him off and he chuckles. Charles settles on the stool by the kitchen island, taking his mom’s advice and grabbing a banana. 
Staying with mom has always been Charles’ great escape. No matter what happens to him, how far he is, Pascale will always be waiting for him with open arms. Whenever life wasn’t treating him so kindly, she was always ready with a remedy. She loved her sons more than anything, and they are her life line as she is to them. Charles watches as his mom effortlessly maneuvers her way through the kitchen. There is a faint smell of garlic in the air, and it makes the boy’s mouth water. 
“It’s really good that you came to visit, mon doux garçon. My sweet boy. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too Mama.” He affirms, taking a bite of his fruit.
“Missed your cooking as well.”
She laughs, “Of course you did.” 
There a few moments of silence as she finishes what she is doing in the pan, and then sticking a dish in the oven. Then she finally turns, the beige towel in her hands as she dries off her hands. “What’s on your mind?”
Charles smiles knowingly, looking down at his fingers as he shrugs. “What isn’t?”
“Ay, mon doux.” She shakes her head, “You don’t have to carry the weight all by yourself, you know?”
He looks up at his mom, “Yeah… but sometimes I feel like I have to.”
She nods. Pascale knows her son all too well, how gentle hearted he is and his need to carry the burden if it means making life easier for those around him. She loves her son, and it nearly breaks her to see how defeated he is. But she also knows that he is more than his results, more than the trials and tribulations he is going through in life. 
“You are strong Charles, thick skin, like your Papa. He’d be proud.” She says softly, walking around the counter to press a kiss to the back of his head, “But he would also remind you that it’s okay to not be so strong sometimes. That it is okay to show that you are vulnerable, not okay.”
She gives his shoulder one last squeeze before leaving him to his thoughts. He sighs, pulling his phone out and scrolling through multiple notifications until his eyes land on your name. You posted on instagram, and he is quick to open the app and see. It is a photo of you, sitting by the water, skin glistening in the sun. And your smile, oh your beautiful smile. It made his heart beat a little quicker. But then he really looks at the photo, the background. The blue water, and the fact that you weren’t sitting on sand, but on a pier. He knew exactly where you are.
You’re in Monaco.
He feels his heart come up his throat. You were in Monaco, his city. He felt psychotic, fighting the urge to jump in his car and look for you. He wanted to drive around, pretend to accidentally bump into you and it would be a fairytale reconciliation. But then he hears his brother’s voice, announcing his arrival, and he is grounded. He promised in a silly voicemail you probably never listened to that he would leave you alone. And he will. He’ll do the right thing and leave you alone. 
Charles was quiet for most of dinner, Arthur talking the most throughout the entire meal. So much so that Lorenzo begged him to shut up. Pascale observes the middle child, who sits to her right, idly pushing a piece of pasta around on his plate. 
“Mon doux,” His mom whispers, “please eat.” 
“Désolé maman.” Sorry mom. He nods and continues to eat. 
“Oh, I saw Dove today. She says hi to everyone.” Arthur’s voice is so nonchalant, Charles nearly misses your nickname. His eyes grow wide at the realization and he looks up from his plate to his little brother. Arthur doesn’t spare him a glance, just munching along on his dinner. 
Lorenzo kicks the youngest Leclerc under the table, and it is then when Arthur realizes his mistake. “Sorry. Yeah uh… sorry.”
“Is she well?” Charles asks, ignoring the awkward air between them. 
“Yeah, I think. We didn’t get to talk much, since we were just passing by.” Arthur answers. “Sorry.”
“No. Don’t be. Good that she’s good.”
And that was that. Dinner is quiet for the rest of the evening, and isn’t long until the boys are quietly cleaning up the mess while their mother gets ready for bed. Charles and Arthur wash the dishes, while Lorenzo takes out the trash. The brothers are quiet in their chore, Arthur washing and rinsing as Charles wipes down and puts them away. 
“Is she happy?” Charles asks softly, breaking the silence.
Arthur pauses, confused for a brief moment before realizing what he meant by his question. “Maybe you should ask her.” 
Charles shakes his head, “I can’t. I could try, but I can’t. And I shouldn’t.”
Arthur nods. “I never understood what went wrong between the two of you Charles. Everything was so good, no?”
“I thought so… but I guess I was wrong.” Charles dries his hands as he places the last of the dishes away. 
The day you broke up was not a memory Charles liked to look back on. It was a memory he kept stored away in the furthest corner of his mind. But he knew no matter how much he tried to bury it, there was no erasing the fact it happened. He’d never forget the look in your eyes, the tears on your cheeks as you watched him pace before you. You apologized and apologized, but for what? 
“Why do you think this can’t work out anymore, dove?”
“Charles, I already said why. We’re not in the same place in life. You’re moving a thousand miles a minute, moving so fast uphill and I’m not able to keep up. I can’t keep being your arm candy, the smiling supportive girlfriend while I’m literally drowning in my misery.” 
“Chérie, please.” 
“Charles, I’ve made up my mind. I need this. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
He can remember the rage seething beneath his skin. He didn’t understand why you wanted to push him away, why you felt so miserable. He didn’t get it then. He still doesn’t understand. Maybe he should’ve fought harder, but you were already so defeated he didn’t think it was the right thing to do then.
“Do you not love me anymore?”
“Will saying I don’t make it easier for you to let me go?”
Your words sent a shiver up his spine.
Arthur leans against the counter, looking at his older brother who is deep in thought. “She said she’s moving back to Monaco… she found a job in the city.” Charles looks up, and he feels a spark of hope light up in the pit of his stomach. You were here to stay. “She didn’t say where, or what… but you know… you never know.”
With that, Arthur pushes himself up and pats his brother on the back, retreating to his room to go to sleep and effectively leaving Charles to ponder over you. 
Maybe in time, the Monegasque thought to himself, the universe will let our paths cross once more.
The last three days of the summer break, Charles spent getting back into his normal routines. Not that Andrea would let him stray from it, but he was granted a couple of cheat days so that he could really enjoy his break. And of course, with the break coming to a close, it wouldn’t be complete if the other nineteen drivers attempted one last hoorah before returning to the track and vying for a win. But of course, twenty men trying to plan to come together required a miracle. And that was something none of them had. At the end of it, the only ones able to attend the “last hoorah” was Charles, Lando, Max, Pierre, and surprisingly George. The rest of the grid was either still in the middle of traveling back, or staying one more day in their little piece of paradise. 
The club was packed for a Wednesday. By the time the boys had pulled up to check in, the general admissions line was a mile long, and the music was already starting to blend into the immense chatter. Charles is thankful that Max had secured a table for the group, and that they didn’t have to wait long. They were sat in the far back, just two tables to the left of the DJ booth. Bottle service was quick, and in no time Charles had a glass of Black Label whiskey between his hands. The music is typical house music, the DJ another one of Lando’s friends. 
From where he is sitting, he can see the entire dance floor, and the second bar which happens to be right by his table. There is a huge crowd of people who had occupied the space in front of the DJ, multitudes of people rubbing backs to fronts and wandering hands. He was almost jealous, wishing that he could stomach the idea of being one of those people. But you couldn’t pump the man with enough alcohol to get him there. He was far too comfortable being a wallflower, quietly observing those around him as he sips on his drink. 
“I bought us a round!” 
Max grins as the lady brings a tray of shot glasses, each of them filled to the brim with a clear liquid. One would assume it’s vodka, but knowing Max it was likely— 
“Tequila!"
Charles grimaces, but he isn’t easily defeated. And one cheesy toast later, he is throwing the foul tasting liquid down his throat. French curse words are muttered beneath his breath as he attempts to shake away the taste. Charles opts to pass on the next two rounds, to which Pierre calls him out for. 
“Party pooper!” 
Charles smirks, sipping his whiskey as he watches his normally composed friends turn into giggly drunks. He looks around the club, eyes scanning the crowd until a sparkly blue dress catches his eyes. He does a double take, but the shiny thing disappears into the crowd. His heart picks up, and he swears he knows who it was. But then his friends are yelling at him and he has to turn away. The time flies by, and soon he is calling every single girlfriend to pick up their respective drive until it is just him and Pierre. He throws his best friend into the back seat of his car with a bottle of water, a plastic bag, and threats if the Frenchman threw up anywhere in his car. As he strolls to the driver side, the sparkle of blue catches his eye and his head snaps in that direction. 
The girl is slumped on the bench, head in her hands as her elbows rest on her thighs. Charles notices the way the girl’s body sways ever so slightly. She was far too drunk to be sitting alone, waiting for God only know who. He walks up to her, and the closer he gets the more familiar she becomes. It isn’t until the girl finally looks up with puffy eyes and mascara stained cheeks does he realize who it is.
“Dove?”
Your face contorts into one of sadness, mumbling ‘oh nos’ over and over as you try to hide behind your hands.
“Dove, what’s wrong?” He reaches out to you, but you flinch. 
“No please.” 
Charles’ heart stings, but he listens to you. “Who are you here with?” You shrug and he can’t help but let disappointment take over his features. “Dove, who?”
“Don’t say it like that, like you’re mad at me.” You slur. 
Charles sighs, “I’m not mad. Just worried.”
You nod, but still don’t answer. Instead, he watches as you turn into a shaking mess of sobs. He doesn’t know if he should hold you, or if there was anything he could say. Suddenly, he was unsure of what to do when it came to you. So he stood there, heart aching as you cry before him. 
“Dove—“
“Charles, please.” 
His mouth clamps shut for a moment before he opens again, “Do you want me to take you home?”
You look up at him, eyes red and puffy, but wide in shock. “You don’t have too.”
“Yeah, but I want to.” You don’t answer, so he extends his hand, “C’mon. I’ll take you home.” 
You nod, reaching out and using his hand to pull yourself up from the bench. Your hold leaves as quickly as it comes, and Charles wishes that your hand stayed in his for a moment longer. He watches as you stumble to his Ferrari, yanking the passenger door and falling into the seat. He inhales deeply, attempting to subdue his nerves before climbing into the drivers seat. Charles thanks the heavens Pierre is snoring softly in the back, and not mumbling any nonsense like he normally would.
“Where do you stay?” 
The drive to you apartment is only 5 minutes further up the road from Charles’ place, and it nearly made him choke. The car ride is silent, only Pierre’s soft snores and mumbles filling the space. When he pulls up to the front, he looks over at you. Your eyes are cast downwards at your fingers, thumbs twiddling in your lap. 
“Will you come back and spend the night?”
Charles chokes. He finally fucking chokes. “Dove, I don’t think…”
“I’m not that drunk Charles. Please?”
This was it, this was his chance. But as he stared at you and your sad eyes, the moment felt wrong. “I’ll walk you up. Okay?”
Your shoulders drop, and you’re quick to shake your head. “No. It’s fine, I can do it myself. Thanks for the ride.” 
The boy is frozen in his seat for a second as you hastily climb out. It takes you slamming the door shut before he scrambles out after you. “Dove!”
“Goodnight Charles!” You yell, not turning back. You can hear Charles’ shoes smacking on the concrete as he jogs up to you. He grabs your arm, skin burning at the contact, pulling you so that are facing him.
“Text me in the morning, then I’ll know you mean it.” 
Your lips fall agape, an argument ready to bubble past your lips. But instead you nod, too tired to argue. So you nod harder, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah. Okay.” 
“Do you still want me to walk you up?”
“No. No I’m okay. Thank you again.” 
Charles stands on the stoop, waiting until you make it past the front doors of your building. It isn’t until he sees you walk into the elevator through the glass doors does he finally retreat to his car and cruise back to his apartment.
Off My Face — Justin Bieber
Charles finally rolls into bed at nearly three in the morning. His body is exhausted, and it doesn’t take too long for him to fall asleep. But that wasn’t before he turned on his music, specifically your playlist, to lull him to sleep. 
His dreams are influenced by the Justin Bieber song, the boy not completely unconscious as the songs plays. The images his mind displays are of you, playing real memories that you shared together. It’s like a movie, he can hear the echos of your laugh and butchered French. He sees flashes of your smile, feels the ghost of your touch.
Your touch blurred my vision, it’s your world and I'm just in it. Even sober I'm not thinkin' straight.
He turns over in his bed, staring at the empty space that you used to occupy. The pillowcase lays unwrinkled, the sheets pressed and untouched. His fingers graze over the material, imagining for a second that you are laying next to him. He can see the way your chest rises and falls, head turned towards the moon while your fingers grasp onto his. Charles nearly caves at the idea of driving back to you, knocking on every door until you answer. And I don't know how you do it, but I'm forever ruined by you.
Sleep finally wins, taking him to a place where all he sees is you. You consume his every thought, every imagination, that night. For the first time, Charles sleeps with a little bit of hope. There are some things dreams can’t truly emulate, and that’s the feeling of your warmth. The sun forces him out of the dirty dream, and he groans softly. His head was swirling, trying to piece together the bits and pieces of  you from his dreams. 
He grabs his phone, bitterly disappointed. 
8:36 am, and not one text from you.
Paris in the Rain — Lauv
Charles finds himself sitting at his favorite coffee shop in Monaco, in the furthest booth in the back of cafe. He sips on his coffee, scrolling through his computer as he tries to answer emails and prepare himself for the second half of the season. He slips his headphones on, mindlessly pressing play and allowing the song to play.
It was the next song on the playlist, and the angry part of him wants to change it. You never texted him. It’s been thirty-six hours since he dropped you home, and it’s been radio silence. He was frustrated, ultimately let down by your lack of communication. He almost wishes that he had taken you up on your offer, almost wishes he had chosen to be selfish. 
The only thing stopping him from changing the song is the fact that it’s the one song attached to the perfect memory. Paris in the rain is his favorite memory with you. 
It was one of the first trips you had taken together outside of race weekends. Charles wanted the trip to be perfect, but the weather had different plans. He planned a whole day, only for the overcast and rain to ruin it completely.
“I’m so sorry Dove, this isn’t what I had planned for us.” Charles mumbled, kissing your temple. 
You were more than understanding, and somehow you manage to convince him to go out in the middle of the night, when the streets were quiet and the city half asleep. You were clad in a blue dress, Charles’ linen button top matching you. You both sit on the picnic blanket, eating all the snacks you bought in the hotel gift shop. Then it’s one drop, then another, then another until the drizzle grows heavier and heavier. 'Cause anywhere with you feels right.
He can never erase the memory of your laughter as he chases you around the park, clothes drenched from the rain. He hears you squeals as he picks you up and throwing you over his shoulder, and your complaints that he wasn’t playing fair. It truly was a scene from a book, like a writer describing the perfect moment in which two character will fully admit they are in love with each other. But neither of you had to say anything. Words couldn’t justify the way your hearts wanted to thump out of your chests as you stare into each other’s eyes. 
Don't know how I ever did it all without you.
Charles answers the last of his emails, finally shutting his computer and transferring his attention to his phone. He scrolls through Instagram, sipping idly on his coffee. He double taps nearly every photo on his feed until someone slides into the seat front of him. He looks up from his phone, eyes wide as he meets your gaze. 
“Knew you’d be here.” You say softly. 
Charles takes one more sip before setting his cup down, “Yeah, guess you did.” 
The air between the both of you is thick, tense, awkward. Neither of you speak, instead sitting uncomfortably while you wait for the other to say just about anything. 
“I know I didn’t text and I—“
“Dove, it’s fine.” 
“Charles, shut up and let me talk.” Your eyes grow wide, brows furrowed in an attempt to look stern. The Monegasque nods, leaning back in his seat and waiting for you to speak. “I’m sorry. Moving back has been a lot, adjusting has been a lot… seeing you has been a lot. I was getting used to the idea of my independence and then you try to call me and leave voicemails…”
“I’m sorry.” Charles’ voice is genuine. All the anger that was inside of him dissipates as he looks up at you. “I wasn’t thinking.” 
“Don’t say sorry. It was nice to hear from you… and I’m sorry about everything going on.”
The boy smiles, nodding. “Yeah. Me too.”
There it is again, that awkward air settling between the two of you. Three, nearly four, months of time apart doesn’t make the conversation flow as easily as either of you wished. There used to be a million things that Charles wanted to tell you, the pages in his little blue notebook proving it. But it didn’t feel right, didn’t feel fair to pour out his heartache from the last four months onto your lap. 
So instead Charles scrambles for his book, flipping through the pages and carefully tearing out two pages. He folds them nicely and sliding them over to you. 
“I… I have to go. But I thought that maybe you should read it. I wrote it to you when I got back home from Silverstone.” Charles gathers his things, mindlessly leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “You look good, Dove. It makes me happy.”
You watch as the man walks away from you, shoulders high and steps calm. The paper sits beneath your fingers, holding whatever tormented Charles the night he wrote it. Truth be told, you weren’t sure what you were expecting when you came to the cafe. You half expected Charles to be here, that things would roll out on the table as easily as it did in your head and that maybe you could both come to some sort of agreement on your relationship. 
Yes, it’s been done. Long over, time separating the two of you. But you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss him in the time spent apart. Even if you knew that what you decided what was right for the both of you, it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. Four months ago, you were in no headspace to be with Charles. You could no longer be what he needed, or wanted, even if he claimed that you would always be enough. How could you be, when you weren’t even enough for yourself? You remember the anxiety induced thoughts, nightmare of Charles’ resentful stare as you plummeted further and further into your hole of poor mental health. 
Solitude was what you needed, being your own individual person away from Charles is what you needed. And although you live with the pain of breaking his and your own heart, it wasn’t a decision you regret making. 
You carefully slide the paper into your purse, standing and walking out of the coffee shop. Monaco was gloomier than most days, the grey clouds threatening to pour rain on the beautiful city. Tiny droplets tap on your windshield, pit pat, reminding you fondly of Paris in the rain, some months ago.
The moment summer break ended, Charles was back to traveling city to city, sitting in his bright red car to race in loops. Laps and laps, the days blurring into the next, but not without thinking of you. You never texted him about the pieces of his journal that he handed off, but you did wish him luck every now and again. You were both in this weird limbo, unsure of where the line is, and just how close either of you can get to crossing it. 
Charles was worried you had thrown the note away, or maybe it was lost. There were no talks about it, not questions, and it makes him queasy. Desperation grows inside of him, festering with the stress and anxiety that had been brewing in the pit of his gut. Andrea looks at him, the way his leg bounces as he fiddles with the sleeve of his fireproofs. 
“You’re gonna do fine mate, don’t worry so much. Just practice.”
The Monegasque looks up at his friend, smiling curtly before grabbing his baclava from the seat next to him. “Right. Just practice.”
He goes through the motions, hopping into his car, testing his gears, patiently waiting until he is allowed to drive on the track. There is constant back and forth between him and the pit wall, Charles making several comments about the feel, and the engineers reporting data back. They comment his poor speed in the first two sectors, pushing him to speed up in the last one. Charles does his best, but is still nine hundredths of second slower than Max. He goes again, desperately trying to push the car to its limit. But it doesn’t perform how he had hoped. He didn’t perform how he had hoped. 
Charles groans, a bit of aggression in his movements as he takes apart his gear so that he can climb out. No one tries to speak to him as he rushes straight to the screen, ready to read and listen to the data gathered from the first free practice. But that only did so much, Charles finishing P3 in the second practice, two places behind his teammate. 
Sunflower — Rex Orange County
When Charles returns to the hotel, your playlist was already playing on shuffle. The music had become his white noise, comforting but no longer something he noticed so much. He really did miss you now, and he finally gives in to the urge to text you. He asks if he could call you before he gets ready for bed. But even once he’s in his boxers, pulling the covers back, there is no response. Charles decides to call you anyways, but the ringing stops almost immediately. 
You declined his call. 
His heart speeds up, attempting to go through every form of social media to see if you were okay. He looked for any signs of life, even texting you to ask if you’re alright. A moment of relief comes in the form of the grey bubble popping up, the three dots showing that you were typing. But your text makes his throat run dry.
Read your note. 
That was it. No reaction, no explanation. Just three words and then silence. Charles tries to call you again, but you are quick to decline. He tries two more times, and each time you deny speaking to him. He texts you, asking what’s wrong. But there is no response. 
I want to know/ where I can go / when you're not around. Panic ensues. Charles is sweating as he throws the covers off his body and clambers into sweats and a shirt that were already sprawled out on the couch. He attempts to call Lando, see if you had told him anything. But the phone rings til the call fails. He calls you again, and you decline.
Dove, answer please. Talk to me. Say something.  Anything.
No response. The boy rummages through his notebook, ensuring that he handed you the right pages. He did. He racks his brain, scouring through his brain as he tries to remember every single word he wrote on that page. He still can’t fathom what could’ve made you mad. Charles spends the night on his bedroom floor, back pressed against his bedside as he waits for his phone to ring with your name. Tryna keep my mind at bay, Sunflower still grows at night.
He thinks of the song playing, tracing the first memory he has of the song. It was a while ago, when you had just started coming to more races in the red garage. It wasn’t a particularly strong weekend for Charles, everyday growing more and more frustrating as he feels his failures in the red car adding up. He was on his way up to you after the debriefing, completely tired and defeated after a terrible 3rd practice and average qualifying. It was late, way beyond a reasonable bedtime, so he was surprised to see you still awake. You were half read for bed, rubbing your face clean of make up and dirt with just a Ferrari hoodie and leggings on. He remembers the song bumping in the background through your phone, they way you bounced from hip to hip as you hum along. 
You didn’t register his sullen face, or maybe you just didn’t want to acknowledge it. You saunter over to him pressing a soft kiss on his lips without stopping your dance. You know you need to get yourself to sleep and dream a dream of you and I, you sing, lifting his arm and twirling in front of him. He found it hard to fight the smile forming on his face, the hard weekend suddenly the least of his worries. 
There's no need to keep an open eye, I promise I'm the one for you just let me hold you in these arms tonight. You wrapped his arms around your torso, forcing his body to move with yours. You watched as his brows relaxed, and a shy smile curves on his lips as he leans in to kiss you one more time.
His phone chimes, your name lighting up the screen.
We’ll talk when you get back. Get some sleep. Good luck tomorrow.
More of You — MAGIC!
Charles sits at the top of the Sedici, fingers moving up and down the silver wheel as he waits for you to arrive. His heart is in his stomach, but the feeling was no longer foreign to him. He looks at at the coast, the way the golden sun slowly sinks to kiss the ocean. 
“Hey.” 
He turns to face you, standing up with a smile. “Hi Dove.” He gestures to the seat across from him, and you take it.
“It’s nice… different from the Monza for sure. Do you still have her?”
Charles swivels in his chair, pointing the smaller boat next to him, “Yep.” 
You nod, smiling fondly. You shared many moments with him on that little thing, private moments that you keep secure in your heart. There is a brief moment of silence, certainly not a terrible one, but the both of you have seen better moments. You look at Charles, really look at him this time. You count the moles on his face, the lines beneath his eyes. They were still as bright as they were in your dreams. 
There was no way to start, so you pull out the cream pieces of lined paper. You flip it open, and the crinkle of the paper causes Charles to look in your direction. “My dearest Dove…” 
I stare you, sometimes at night, wishing I could just press rewind… ’cause I just want more. Charles watches you, the way your bottom lips is caught between your teeth as you stare at the words from in front of you. Your face is stoic, eyes darting from left to right as you read the words in your head. 
“It is two in the morning. My body is tired, sore, but my mind doesn’t want to stop moving…” Your voice is sweet, contrasting the sad words of the boy from that early July morning. “I wish- I wish that you were here.” 
You finally look up at him, and that’s when Charles sees the tears glossing over your eyes. He reaches out, your fingers quickly finding it’s place in the palms of his hands. He squeezes softly, encouraging you to continue. 
You look up from the paper, folding it shut as you exhale. “You still listened to the playlist?”
He nods, “Yeah. It helped some… but it’s not the same.” 
You smile sadly, looking back down at the paper to continue. “Every song is hand picked, a piece of us and our story. It is an endless cycle of love, of pining, of wishing that we were right next to each other. Do you still listen to these songs, do you still think of me when you do?” 
“Do you?” Charles asks. 
You hum, nodding. “Always.”
Charles can’t help but smile, nodding softly and encouraging you to continue reading the letter.
“I always find myself wishing that you were here with me, here to celebrate every win, but also to forget about the failures. I’m always wishing that I had more of you.” Drops of tears spill onto your cheek, and Charles releases your hand to cup your face. The pad of his thumb swipes it away.
What is this hold you got on me? Stronger force than gravity…
“But you were right. This time apart was necessary. It was needed, and-“
Charles’ hand drops from your face, resting on your thigh as his thumb rubs soothing circles on on your skin. “I think I needed it more than I thought I did.” He finishes
“I’m happy that the world turns in your favor, I think mine is upside down. I’m still trying to find my way, find my independence in the world, find my identity other than the predestined. I’m finding who I am beyond rubber on the track and all the podiums. And if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that I was always meant to love you. Whether it’s in your presence, or from thousands of miles away, loving you has been and will always be part of my story.” 
In my next life, I'll be looking for you. “In this life and the next, mon cherie.” 
You fold the paper once more, slipping it into your purse. Your fingers find his, looping between them. The silence is light, comfortable, as his green eyes bore into yours. There weren’t any words either of you can say, the note saying just enough for the both of you. 
The sun finally kisses the sea, the sky turning from blue to pink. The world around you dims. 
“In this life and the next, Charles.”
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