#sera writes

So you only have one option, really. You’re not a coward, so it can’t be b, and you’d rather choke on your fancy steak tonight and die then ever let a man think he played you and got away with it. 

“Cool,” you say. “I’ll let Kaiser know he has your permission.” 

You’re joking, but you don’t think he is. 

“Cool,” Sae replies, but he’s so disinterested that you think he didn’t even hear the last half of your sentence. 

Dinner is great even though Sae is an asshole because he somehow still makes it fun to be with him. Your friends all ask you why you want him. They don’t see what you see; they think you’re just after the football fame, the fortune, the model like beauty. 

You’re a little more twisted than that. 

When you press your patent heel up against Sae’s calf, he doesn’t even flinch. He takes a long, slow draught of water - because he doesn’t drink alcohol, which is deliriously sexy to you for some reason - and raises an eyebrow at you. Everything about him is cool and collected, even when you inch higher and higher until you’re practically right between his legs. 

His hand slips under the table, grabs your ankle, and repositions it on his lap. He doesn’t spare a thought for how your dirty shoes are on his nice slacks. When you try to retract your foot because this is dangerous, this is not what you expected, his hand locks you in place. 

He holds your eye across the table. You wanted this, his eye contact says. Be good and take it. 

Sae is hard to read. 

He can be so apathetic, so indifferent to your words, and then draw warm, lazy circles on your pulse with his thumb. He looks mildly amused when your brain short circuits in the middle of your sentence, every neuron redirected to the feeling of his hand on your ankle, soaking in heat from his palm. 

You want to pull him apart and see what makes him tick. For you, love is almost like dissection. You want to be able to know him so intimately no one else will ever be able to say they come close. 

Although he apparently doesn’t feel the same about you. 

Knowing Sae is a rare privilege all in itself. You thought you were content. When you first met him, that’s all it was: fun. You liked pulling him apart and putting him back together, figuring out which parts of Sae were real and which were a front. But now, after a few months, you’re hooked. It’s become more than a game. It’s an addiction. 

The more he rejects you, the more you want him. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this pathetic in your life. You’ve never chased anyone the way you’ve done for him. 

It’s killing you to think about the numbers he’s done on your reputation. Your friends already think you’re whipped. 

You’re afraid to admit they’re right, and that’s the real reason you’re upset about what he said earlier. You never thought you were dating but you thought - 

Ugh. You don’t know why you expected him to care. 

Sae is, if an asshole, also a gentleman, so he pays for dinner and sends you home in an Uber on his card. 

You smile pleasantly until you get into the car and then you’re practically tearing your hair out. You need to make him regret this. 

So obviously the question now is who would make Sae the sickest to find out you got with? Who would have that man holding his stomach in tears? 

Shidou is too obvious and also you doubt that Sae would care. In a funny way, Shidou is the least you can do to him. 

Oliver? No, he’s too much of a slut. This needs to be a hit and run, an attack, but targeted. Aiku is just too easy to make Sae feel anything besides mild annoyance that you fucked his captain. 

You’d have to butter Kaiser up before you even got near him, and besides, Sae didn’t even react when you brought him up earlier. 

Your brain flinches away from Rin’s face when it pops up in your brain like you touched a hot stove, a solid rejection you don’t even have to think about. 

No. 

It hurts too much. You’re angry but you still care about Sae. This is- 

You want to piss him off, not hurt him irrevocably. Dating Rin right after not-dating him would be something the two of you couldn’t come back from. 

Even if Sae likes to pretend he’s not sensitive when it comes to his little brother, you know better. 

Back to the drawing board. 

The most important part is that Sae can’t know you’re trying to make him jealous, so it has to come up organically. You’re aiming for a teammate because you need someone who will talk about it in Sae’s locker room, someone who can get it to Sae without making it too obvious. 

All paths lead to Oliver Aiku. 

Unfortunately. 

You don’t even know if this is going to work. 

“Just so you know,” you tell him, “you weren’t my first choice.”

“Aw, why?” He asks. “You don’t think I’ll get Sae mad enough?” 

“Are you kidding me? If anything, he’s going to think I’ve lowered my standards! He’s not going to regret losing me, he’s going to think that I’m so pathetic his little rejection sent me off the deep end!” 

“But then he’ll be right,” Oliver says. “Considering he did lower your standards and send you off the deep end. You’re standing in my living room right now, aren’t you?” 

You squint at him. “And I can walk right back out, so don’t test me.” 

“Don’t be like that,” Oliver purrs. “I’m great at making men jealous.” 

“I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of.” 

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take you somewhere your man couldn’t even dream of taking you.” 

“Oliver, this is a Wendy’s.” 

“Sae would never dream of taking you here,” he shrugs. “Wow, good bite! You’re great at eating.” 

“Okay, one, that’s a weird thing to say, and two, I’m going to go find someone else if you can’t help me. I know you can’t help yourself but since I’m your friend, I thought at the very least, you would try not to waste my time.” 

“Yeesh, calm down-“ 

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” 

“My bad,” he says cheerfully. “Trust me, I have a plan.” 

“I don’t trust you,” you say pointedly, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He ignores you. “What makes a man angrier than thinking you moved on?” 

“Moving on with his rival?” 

“Close. Thinking he never had you. See, Sae takes you on these fancy dates to high end restaurants and museums and what not. But you know how he is. He’s with you but he’s not really with you. You gotta beat him at his own game. Let him think that you were just indulging him when really this is what you want.” He scoots his chair closer to you until you can practically feel the warmth of him radiating through his thin shirt. His cologne smells like jasmine, a strangely delicate scent for him. “Make him feel like he never really knew you, because I’m the one who does.” 

You breathe in the scent of his feminine cologne, stalling. It would be so easy to listen to Oliver. It would be so easy to let him in your heart. He knows what to say and when to say it. 

In a way, he does know you. 

Familiarity is unavoidable with time, and you’ve been friends of circumstance for ages. 

“You just wanted an excuse to take me to Wendy’s,” you say with a fake laugh that is so perfected, you can only pick up the stilted quality of it if you really, really listen. 

He pulls out of your space a little, a smile playing on his lips. “You know me so well. That too.” 

Oliver knows you a little too well. He says the right things at the right times because he’s telling you what you want to hear. 

Are you destined to be toyed with by beautiful football players? 

In the car on the way back to your house, Oliver texts you. “Get him back for me, playa.”  

In the locker room, Oliver doesn’t start the conversation because that would be too obvious. He’s a respectful man, he doesn’t kiss and tell. It would be out of character for him to start bringing up last night’s exploits and Sae would catch on instantaneously. 

He waits until Sendou, not subtly, tries to ask him who that pretty girl he posted last night was. 

“Are you sure that was a girl? Aiku never posts who he’s with. It was probably his sister.” 

Oliver doesn’t see who said that, but he doesn’t take offense. Again, he doesn’t kiss and tell. Whoever he’s with is a secret. 

He lets them simmer for a little bit more before he casually drops your name, saying it was just a friendly meal. Out of the corner of his eye, Sae stops putting on his shirt. 

“I’ll say,” Sendou says. “You took her to Wendy’s? That’s foul even for you.” 

“Maybe she likes Wendy’s,” Aiku says. “You don’t know her.” 

Although that last part isn’t really directed at Sendou. 

It’s rare for Sae to willingly open social media, but here he is, scrolling through Oliver’s story. Your face is never in any of the pictures, but he can tell. You’re- 

His brain stutters to a halt. 

You’re wearing the necklace he bought you on a date with another man.

There’s only one picture left in Oliver’s stories from last night, but of course that demon would’ve saved the best for last. It’s a simple shot. You’re sitting outside somewhere, under the stars. His hand is holding yours from across the table, your arm stretched out towards him. It’s the only one with a sliver of your face in it, the edge of a sweet, tender smile. 

Sae doesn’t fight. He’s not the type. But over you? 

He fights the only way he knows how. Through football. 

When Sae calls you after practice, you fumble your phone so hard it drops out of your hands and into the sink. You had fun with Oliver last night, but deep down, you didn’t really think Sae would care, as much as you wanted him to. It’s just the way he is. 

By the time you fish your phone out, it’s making strange noises and unable to return Sae’s call. You don’t feel like going out today after your wild night - crying onto Aiku’s shoulder through mouthfuls of French fries - so you resolve to pick a new one up tomorrow. 

Sae will wait. He’s very patient. 

Sae shows up on your doorstep within thirty minutes of your denied call. He lives twenty minutes away, if he speeds. 

Now he’s sitting in your living room, drinking water from your favorite mug while you squirm uncomfortably. He, on the other hand, seems content to sit in silence. 

“You hung out with Aiku last night,” he says. 

Now that he’s actually in the room, you feel like you did something wrong. It’s insane how much influence Sae has over you. He hurt you, but retaliation somehow feels like getting caught with your hand in a cookie jar. 

“Yes,” you mumble. 

“Hm? Speak up.” 

“So what if I did?” 

Sae raises an eyebrow. “Nothing. I don’t mind who you hang out with.” 

“Fine,” you say. “Guess I’ll hang out with him again. Since you don’t care.” 

His mouth curls into a smile behind his mug. That motherfucker. It’s ticking you off. He’s so in control of himself, so smug and pleased and - 

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” 

“You know, since you care so much- huh?” 

“Do you want to start dating?” He rephrases patiently. 

You stammer for a bit before you’re able to reply coherently. “I thought you didn’t want to.” 

“Did I say that?” 

“Yes,” you hiss. “You made it very clear.” 

“I don’t remember saying that,” he says and sets his mug down. When he stands, terror rises in you. He’s coming over. He’s sitting back on his haunches in front of you on the couch, eye to eye. “I just said that we weren’t dating. But I’d like to.” 

“You only want me because I was with another man,” you say faintly. You’re trying to act cute, playful, but you’re not sure it’s working. There’s not enough blood going to your brain. 

“You want me to beg, don’t you?” 

You can’t deny how excited that makes you. Part of it is the way he says it, his voice slow and measured, deepening near the end. Part of it is just hearing ‘beg’ come out of Sae’s mouth. 

“Okay, then. You don’t like Wendy’s.” 

God, you hate men. Who cares about Wendy’s? Why do they always argue about this? Oliver and Sae both-

“You like the places we go. You like,” he tugs lightly on your necklace in a way that stops just shy of stinging. “The way I spoil you.” He pushes you back onto the couch and leans over you. “You like the way I know,” his nose brushes over the carotid artery in your neck, “what makes you feel good.” 

“So I can beg if you want me to.” He’s all in your space, filling it up. All you can smell and feel and see is Sae. You feel paralyzed by his eyes. Devoured whole. “I can get on my knees for you and let you put a leash around my neck and promise that you can have anything you want from me. But let’s not pretend that you want anyone else but me.” 

Okay. So maybe you do care about Wendy’s. 

“Aiku thinks he knows you,” Sae says, his voice calm and easy. It’s like he’s laying out a mathematical formula instead of confessing his love, but it’s so Sae. “He doesn’t. I know you.” 

You whimper. 

Sae laughs dryly. 

You don’t sleep in your own bed that night. Sae drives you both back to his apartment, insists on brushing your teeth for you with the toothbrush he bought for you, and does your skincare routine before he tucks you into bed. 

You’re half asleep when he says, “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” 

“Huh?” You mumble, facedown in his pillow. It smells like him. 

Sae leans over so he can kiss your forehead. When he whispers, it’s directly in your ear. “You think you tied me down, huh?” 

You’re wide awake now. “Obviously,” you snap back, annoyed that he’s still trying to play these games. You know he’s not indifferent to you, you just wish he would- 

“No, dear,” Sae says. The pet name sends chills down your spine. “I trapped you.” 

He sat up straighter on the bed, eyes tracking the movements of your hands as you gripped the hem of your shirt and started pulling it over your head. 

You paused, stomach exposed and questioning eyes. Your eyes were alight with something akin to mirth. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, but his throat suddenly felt dry, and his eyes couldn’t move from the smooth expanse of your stomach. 

Ever since he’d come back from the dead with blood and dirt underneath his nails, nothing fazed him anymore. He thought he’d seen the worst the world could offer, and that nothing could ever disappoint him or even surprise him again.

Or so he thought. His breath completely left his lungs when you threw the shirt and he saw the Y shaped scar on your chest. Your bra followed next, but Jason barely paid any attention to where it fell.

The same one on his chest.

How did you get this? Did it hurt too? When did this happen? How are you alive? Did you come back wrong too?

“Can I touch?” he asked instead.

You nodded.

He’d known in some ways that you had scars of some sort. The secrecy and the privacy. He knew you weren’t shy — you were the farthest thing from shy the moment you climbed on top of his strong thighs. 

Now everything made sense. Maybe you weren’t insecure, but how does one explain the fact that they have an autopsy scar on their chest while breathing and living and existing?

He got it, he really did. In face, Jason thinks he might be the only person on earth who could understand it.

His fingers weren’t hesitant, but they were gentle as they reverently traced the raised skin on your chest. He could feel how you’d stopped breathing under his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

You looked up at him in surprise, lips slightly apart. Then you smiled, one edge of your lips pulled higher than the other. “Of course I am,” you said, but Jason was close enough that he could feel the tremor beneath your confidence. 

“Is that why you never flinched when you saw mine?”

“In some way,” you replied cryptically. 

“Yeah?” he breathed out, his fingers now under your collarbone. His eyes grew darker, noticing the effect he had on you; the way your skin shivered under his touch and your nipples perked.

“That and I really like scars,” you said, breathlessly. 

He chuckled darkly, like gravel. “Of course you do, you freak.”

You bit your lower lip and climbed atop his lap, your thighs spread and knees on each side of his thighs. “It’s why you love fucking me.”

“True,” he replied, nuzzling the side of your jaw with his nose. He didn’t even bother pretending to not love the way you were completely unhinged and gone in the head. Everything suddenly made sense. No one came back from the dead normal. 

It also explained why he’d always felt so drawn to you. He’d always known it went beyond physical attraction, though he wasn’t stupid enough to pretend it didn’t play a big role. He must have known you were just like him on a deep level.

You were hot. Insanely hot, and you just happened to be insane just like him. If Jason was a lesser man, he’d even say you were made for him.

“What made you change your mind?” he asked, because the curiosity was too strong, and he’d never been one to shy away from stupid questions from time to time. “Don’t tell me you trust me, I’ll laugh in your face, and then tell you exactly why that’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.” 

You rolled your eyes, but you were grinning. You grinded your crotch against his, and Jason had to bite back a groan of pleasure. “You minx,” he whispered.

“You love it.”

Jason noticed how you haven’t actually answered his question. You were great at deflecting questions, but Jason didn’t miss. He never did. But he didn’t press. You’ll tell him on your terms. One day, or never. As long as you still came over to his place and laid pliantly beneath his body, he didn’t care what the hell happened to you. He didn’t care who you were or what you used to do, or what you did now. As long as you kept looking at him the way you did right now, and climbed on top of his lap like you belonged.

“I do,” he replied. “But I love it a lot more when you’re beneath me.”

"Let me buy you a drink," Y/n insisted, her dark eyes meeting Max's gaze. "I should have been paying more attention. Please, allow me to make it up to you."

She gestured to the bar stool beside her. "Have a seat and let me buy you a drink. It's the least I can do."

Max hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and sat down, intrigued by this mysterious woman who seemed so familiar. As she signaled the bartender, he couldn't help but admire her figure, her curves accentuated by dress that she wore.

"I'm Y/n, by the way," she introduced herself, extending her hand. "And you are?"

"Max," he replied, shaking her soft hand. "Nice to meet you, Y/n."

As the bartender brought over their drinks, Y/n leaned in closer, her perfume tantalizing his senses. "So, Max, what brings you here tonight?" she asked with a playful smile, her fingers lightly brushing against his arm.

He sighed and took a swig of his drink, the cool liquid soothing his throat. "Just a rough day at work, you know how it is. Some asshole really got under my skin today."

Y/n nodded sympathetically, her dark eyes filled with understanding. "I'm sorry to hear that. Work can be so stressful sometimes."

"What about you?" Max asked, curious about the beautiful stranger. "What brings you to Austria?"

"Oh, I'm just passing through," Y/n replied casually, sipping her own drink. "Visiting my brother actually. He's here for some kind of race or something."

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "Figures. Seems like everyone and their brother is in town for that damn race."

As they continued to chat, Max found himself drawn to Y/n's warm personality and easygoing nature. She had a way of putting him at ease, her laughter like music to his ears.

As the night wore on, Max and Y/n continued to drink and converse, their initial tension melting away into a comfortable camaraderie. The alcohol flowed freely, and soon they were laughing and joking like old friends.

Y/n regaled Max with tales of her travels, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she described the various places she'd been. Max, in turn, shared stories from his own life, the stresses of work momentarily forgotten in the company of this captivating woman.

Their knees brushed under the table, sending a jolt of electricity through Max's body. He glanced at Y/n, noticing the way her lips curved into a coy smile as she caught his gaze. The air between them crackled with a palpable tension, a mutual attraction that was becoming harder to ignore.

Y/n leaned in closer, her hand resting lightly on Max's thigh. "You know, Max," she purred, her voice low and seductive, "I've really enjoyed talking with you tonight."

Her fingers traced lazy circles on his leg, inching higher with each pass. Max swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he met her smoldering gaze.

"I've enjoyed it too," he managed to say, his voice rough with desire.

Y/n's hand slid further up his thigh, her touch bold and unapologetic. "Maybe we should take this somewhere more private," she suggested, her lips hovering mere inches from his. "Somewhere we can... get to know each other better."

Max's breath caught in his throat, his body responding eagerly to her advances. He nodded, his eyes dark with lust as he imagined all the delicious things they could do together.

Without another word, Y/n stood and took Max's hand, leading him away from the crowded bar.

As they waited for the elevator, Max's hands found their way to Y/n's waist, pulling her close against his body. She let out a soft moan as his lips found the sensitive skin of her neck, his tongue tracing the delicate curve of her throat.

Y/n tilted her head back, giving Max better access to her neck as she pressed herself against him. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she lost herself in the sensation of his touch.

The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to reveal an empty car. Max swept Y/n inside, his mouth never leaving her skin as he backed her against the wall, his body pinning hers in place.

The doors closed, and the elevator began its ascent to its destination. But Max and Y/n barely noticed, too consumed by their growing desire for one another. Max's hands roamed her curves, squeezing and caressing as Y/n arched into his touch, desperate for more.

The elevator reached their floor, the doors sliding open with a soft ding. Max and Y/n stumbled out, their lips locked in a passionate kiss as they made their way down the hallway to her room.

Max pushed Y/n against the wall as soon as they entered her hotel room, his lips trailing hot kisses along her shoulders. He tugged at the straps of her dress, letting them fall to the sides, exposing her smooth skin.

"You know, you never gave me your last name," he murmured between kisses, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh. "It's not fair, since I gave you mine."

Y/n let out a breathy moan, arching into his touch as his hands explored her body. "Mmm, maybe I wanted to keep some mystery," she teased, her fingers tangling in his hair.

He nipped at her earlobe, his breath hot against her skin. "Well, I think it's time you revealed all your secrets to me," he growled, his hands sliding under her dress to cup her ass.

She hesitates for a moment, moaning as his lips make contact with the skin on her neck. "Norris," she breathes out. "That's my last name."

As Max's lips trailed along Y/n's neck, leaving a path of hickeys in their wake, the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. "Norris... as in Lando Norris's sister?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Y/n's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and guilt flashing across her face. "You know my brother?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Max chuckled darkly, his hands gripping her hips possessively. "Know him? That asshole is the one who ruined my day," he growled, nipping at her sensitive skin. "But it looks like his sister might just make it all better."

Y/n let out a breathy moan, her head falling back as Max's lips and teeth worked their magic on her neck. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more of his touch.

Max led Y/n to the bed, sitting down on the edge and pulling her to kneel between his legs. He leaned back, his hands resting on his thighs as he looked down at her with a hungry gaze.

"I want you to make me feel better, Y/n," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I want you to show me just how sorry you are for your brother's behavior."

Y/n bit her lip, her eyes dark with desire as she looked up at him. Slowly, she reached for his belt, her fingers making quick work of the buckle. She tugged his pants and boxers down, freeing his hard, throbbing cock.

"I'm so sorry, Max," she purred, her hand wrapping around his shaft. "Let me make it up to you."

With that, she leaned forward, her tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock. Max groaned, his head falling back as he savored the sensation of her warm, wet mouth on his most sensitive flesh.

Y/n released Max's cock from her lips, a string of saliva connecting her mouth to the tip. She placed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along his shaft, her tongue swirling around the sensitive skin.

Max watched her through hooded eyes, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she worked her way down his length. Her hands gripped his thighs, her nails digging into his flesh as she took him deeper into her mouth.

"Fuck, Y/n," Max groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily as she deepthroated him. "Your mouth feels so fucking good."

Y/n hummed in response, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. She bobbed her head up and down, taking him to the back of her throat with each movement.

Y/n took Max deep into her throat, her nose pressing against his pelvis as she swallowed around his cock. Saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth, coating his shaft in a glistening sheen.

Max's hands flew to her hair, gripping the silky strands as he guided her head, thrusting shallowly into her mouth. "That's it, baby," he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take it all like a good girl."

She moaned around his cock, the sound muffled by his thick flesh. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard as her tongue swirled around the sensitive head. Her hands slid up his thighs, fingers teasing the sensitive skin behind his balls.

Max looked down at Y/n, his eyes dark with lust as he watched her worship his cock. "Fuck, Norris," he growled, his grip on her hair tightening. "You look so pathetic like this, choking on my dick."

Y/n's eyes watered, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gagged on his length. But she didn't pull away, instead doubling her efforts, determined to prove herself to him.

Max's hips rocked faster, fucking her face with abandon. "I bet your brother would be ashamed to see you like this," he taunted, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. "His precious sister, nothing more than a slutty little cocksucker."

Max's eyes glinted with malicious glee as he continued to fuck Y/n's face, his grip on her hair unrelenting. "Keep this up, and maybe I'll let your brother win the damn championship," he sneered, his words laced with cruelty. "Wouldn't that be nice? To have your slutty little mouth wrapped around my cock, all for your brother's success?"

Y/n whimpered, the sound muffled by his thick shaft. Tears streamed down her face, her mascara running in dark rivulets. But she didn't resist, instead hollowing her cheeks and sucking harder, desperate to please him.

Max's hips snapped faster, his cock hitting the back of her throat with each brutal thrust. "Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he groaned, his head falling back in ecstasy. "I might just keep you as my personal little cocksucker."

His thrusts became more erratic, his balls tightening as he neared his climax. "I'm gonna cum down your throat," he warned, his voice strained with impending release. "And you're going to swallow every last drop like a good little slut."

Y/n moaned in response, the vibrations pushing Max over the edge. With a guttural groan, he exploded in her mouth, his hot seed filling her throat. Y/n swallowed greedily, her tongue lapping at his shaft to catch every last drop.

Y/n released Max's cock from her lips, a mixture of cum and saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with a heady mix of submission and desire.

He grinned down at her, his spent cock still twitching with aftershocks of pleasure. "You did well, Norris," he praised, his thumb wiping away the stray drops of cum from her lips. "Maybe your brother will have a shot at that championship after all."

Max pulled Y/n to her feet, his hands roaming her curves possessively. "If you really want your brother to win though, you'll have to do more than just suck my dick," he growled, his eyes dark with lust.

He pushed her back onto the bed, crawling over her and pinning her wrists above her head. "I want this tight little pussy," he demanded, grinding his hardening cock against her clothed core. "I want to fuck you until you're screaming my name."

Y/n looked up at Max, her eyes blazing with defiance. "I don't care about my brother's career," she declared, her voice strong and unwavering. "He's his own person, and I'm mine. My pleasure is what matters to me right now, not his success on the track."

She bucked her hips against Max's, her core aching for his touch. "Fuck me because you want me, not because my brother pissed you off and you want payback," she demanded, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Make me feel good, Max. Make me forget about everything except the feeling of your cock inside me."

Max captured Y/n's lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to taste her. He broke the kiss, his eyes dark with desire as he ordered, "Take that dress off. I want to see every inch of your gorgeous body."

Y/n sat up, her hands trembling with anticipation as she reached for the zipper of her dress. She pulled it down slowly, revealing the creamy skin of her back inch by inch. The dress fell away, pooling at her feet and leaving her clad in nothing but a lacy black bra and matching panties.

Max's eyes roamed over Y/n's body, taking in the constellation of moles that dotted her skin. He leaned in, pressing soft kisses to each one he encountered, his lips lingering on her sensitive flesh.

She shivered at the sensation, her body responding to his touch. She arched into him, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. "Max," she breathed, her voice heavy with desire. "Please, I need you."

Max stood up, his eyes hungrily devouring Y/n's exposed body. "Get on your hands and knees," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "I want to see all of you."

Y/n complied, positioning herself on the bed as instructed. Max stepped behind her, his hands gripping her ass and spreading her cheeks apart. He pulled her panties down, exposing her glistening pussy to his hungry gaze.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groaned, his fingers dipping between her folds to tease her entrance. "I can't wait to bury my cock in this tight little cunt."

He thrust into Y/n with a single, powerful stroke, his thick cock splitting her open. The combination of her wetness and the leftover saliva from her earlier ministrations served as a makeshift lube, allowing him to slide in deep.

Y/n let out a sharp cry, her body struggling to accommodate his impressive size. "Slow down," she pleaded, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. "You're so fucking big."

Max paused, giving Y/n a moment to adjust to his size. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he whispered in her ear. "Relax, baby," he cooed, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her hips. "I'll make you feel so good, I promise."

With that, he began to move, his hips rocking against her ass in a slow, steady rhythm. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through Y/n's body, her walls clenching around his thick shaft.

Max picked up the pace, his hips slamming against Y/n's ass with bruising force. The bed creaked beneath them, the headboard banging against the wall as he fucked her with wild abandon.

"Fuck, your pussy feels so good," he grunted, his fingers digging into the meat of her hips. "So fucking tight and wet."

Y/n could only moan in response, her body rocked forward with each powerful thrust. "Yes, yes, fuck me harder," she cried out, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the sheets. "Ruin me with that big fucking cock."

Max obliged, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his release. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with their moans and grunts of pleasure. Y/n's pussy clenched around him, her orgasm building with each stroke of his cock against her G-spot.

Y/n's moans grew louder, her curses echoing off the walls as Max pounded into her. He brought his hand down on her ass, the sharp slap of skin on skin punctuating his thrusts.

"Fuck, you're so loud," he growled, his voice strained with pleasure. "I can't have you alerting the whole hotel to what a dirty little slut you are."

With that, he wrapped a hand around her neck, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp for air. Y/n's moans turned to whimpers, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm as Max continued to fuck her through it.

Max's grip on Y/n's neck tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he growled, "Shut the fuck up, you dirty little slut."

Y/n whimpered, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. She tried to nod, but the lack of oxygen made it difficult. Her vision began to blur, the edges of her consciousness fading as Max continued to pound into her.

Just as she thought she might pass out, Max released his grip, allowing her to gasp for air. "Breathe," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "I'm not done with you yet."

Y/n gasped for air, her lungs burning as she struggled to fill them with much-needed oxygen. Her moans mixed with her ragged breaths, creating a symphony of pleasure and desperation.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted, her body trembling as another orgasm crashed over her. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

Her words dissolved into a scream as she squirted all over Max's cock, her pussy clenching and fluttering around his thick shaft. The sensation pushed Max over the edge, his own orgasm ripping through him like a freight train.

Max fucked Y/n through his orgasm, his hips jerking erratically as he emptied himself inside her. His cum flooded her pussy, so much that it began to leak out around his still-twitching cock.

Y/n whimpered, her body overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled so completely. She could feel Max's seed dripping down her thighs, marking her as his.

Max collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He nuzzled into her neck, pressing soft kisses to her sweat-slicked skin. "Fuck, that was intense," he murmured, his voice hoarse with satisfaction.

He noticed Y/n's labored breathing, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. He pulled back, his eyes searching her face for any signs of distress.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. "Did I push you too far?"

She shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "No, I'm fine," she assured him, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "It was intense, but in the best possible way."

Y/n's body went limp, her thighs quivering as she collapsed onto the bed. She cursed under her breath, her words a jumbled mix of expletives and praise for the mind-blowing sex she had just experienced.

"Fuck, that was so good," she moaned, her hand reaching down to touch her sensitive, well-fucked pussy. "I can't believe how hard you made me cum."

Max laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he looked down at Y/n's trembling form. "I may have gotten a bit carried away," he admitted, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip. "Your brother really pissed me off today, and I guess I took it out on you."

She shivered at his touch, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, if this is what happens when you're mad at him, maybe he should piss you off more often," she teased, her voice still hoarse from her earlier cries of pleasure.

Max chuckled, his hand sliding up Y/n's side to cup her breast. "Careful what you wish for," he warned, his thumb brushing over her nipple. "I might just have to find more reasons to get angry with your brother."

Y/n arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips, "As long as it means I get to feel this good, I think I can live with that."

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This only sends you into further peals of laughter as Reo tries desperately to shush you. You’re breaking the rules after all. You’re not supposed to be out here, not supposed to be dirtying your clothes, and as a foreign princess destined to marry Prince Reo, definitely not supposed to be touching other men. 

It’s a struggle to get you back into your quarters without anyone seeing - or, as the real problem turns out to be, hearing you. It’s like something has truly broken inside of you, a dam that kept you well mannered and poised in society. Now all you can do is giggle, thinking about the great fun you had rolling around in the grass, learning the sweaty, tiring joy all other children learned so young. 

“Get her shoes off,” Reo hisses as he carefully wraps his clean handkerchief around your mouth. You don’t struggle, simply smiling up at him with trusting, joyous eyes. 

He heard from some tutor or the other (he has many) that laughter is like a drug. He can see the way it acts on you now, careless and lackadaisical, allowing him to do as he pleases. His heart melts. He pats your cheek fondly. For the first time since you participated in the engagement ceremony, two solemn children pledging vows they didn’t understand, the realization that you will someday be his wife comes upon him. 

“What are you doing?” Nagi hisses. 

“We have to be quiet,” Reo says. He rolls his eyes at him. “Don’t be like that. Do you know how bad it would be if we were caught like this?”

“Yes, so why are you asking me to- Her ankles are bare, Reo.” 

“I told you to get her shoes off,” Reo says. “Not be a pervert. If you have to do that without looking, then fine. Turn away. Just do it!” 

Nagi grumbles to himself, but he never refuses Reo. You’ve learned that much in your short time with them. 

“Spoiled thing,” Reo murmurs as he caresses your cheek, his other hand dipping behind your neck to undo the first of many buttons down your back. The voice in which he says it is strange, even to himself. He doesn’t recognize it. Dimly, he registers that the phrase comes from what he hears people say about him when he’s being particularly adorable. 

He knows he’s being adorable. He wants them to say it. He suspects that you, also, know that you’re being adorable and wants him to say it. 

But knowing the trick doesn’t take the delight out of it - still Reo feels drawn to you, down to the coquettish way you’re blinking your eyes at him, your lashes shaded in such a way as to make you appear sweet and demure. 

Nagi stands, your shoes in one hand. 

“Here,” Reo says, placing your hands on him. He raises you from your seat, leaning your weight against Nagi, who bears it as uncomplaining as if he were a coat rack or a wall. He’s through arguing with Reo. 

Behind you, Reo pops open a row of buttons one by one down your spine. You shudder at each slackened clasp, feeling your dress slip looser and looser until it cascades down your body entirely. Reo drops to his knees to help you step out of the mass of your skirts, leaving you in nothing but a thin slip. 

The sound of voices coming up the stairs startles Nagi, who grips you more securely. 

“Time to go,” Reo says. “Tuck her into bed, Nagi.” 

They’re an efficient team. Reo hides all the evidence as Nagi pulls the blankets around you. 

There’s such a large army of ladies in waiting around you that it’s easy for miscommunication to inevitably force one of them to take credit for putting you to bed. They’ll lead themselves towards that conclusion without any help. 

Reo leaves a soft kiss on your brow before he strides to the window and slips out of it. “Nagi, come,” he demands, dipping out of sight. The sounds of his climbing fade away quickly. 

Ever obedient, Nagi follows suit. He slings his leg over the sash and drops off the side. Just his eyes and pale hair are visible above the windowsill now. A strand whips across his cheek in a sudden breeze. He stops for a moment, hesitating. 

“You’re going to be okay?” 

You don’t really understand him, but the tone is clear enough. His expression, searching, helps too. You can’t speak, so you smile and nod at him. He returns the look, soft eyed and gentle. 

Then he’s gone. 

Your room is too far up to hear, but you imagine the sound of feet pattering across grass, Reo’s hushed laughter and admonishment for Nagi to keep up. 

You’ve always been Reo’s. As the second daughter of a third consort, you were promised to a foreign power to secure an alliance since before you were born. This is what you were made for. 

After tonight, however, you belong to both of them. 

Reo calls Nagi his guard, but he’s more of a lap dog, in your opinion. He’s terribly lazy, more content to lay his head in your lap under sunshine than fight in tourneys. He’s spoiled. It’s Reo’s fault. 

He’s too indulgent of you both, his princess and his knight. His betrothed and his sworn brother in arms. 

You’re grateful they’re so close. It made things easier for you.

When you first came to this country, no one spoke your language except Reo. He couldn’t be with you all the time, of course, being a king’s son with all of the accompanying responsibilities. It drove you to tears, being treated as this strange foreign princess in a land where no one seemed to even want to try to understand you. 

Except Nagi, who seems to have accepted you as an extension of Reo. 

“I’m surprised,” Reo remarks. “He doesn’t like most people.” 

“You make him sound like a pet,” you laugh, testing the syllables of Reo’s language on your tongue. You’ve grew fluent quickly, thanks to constant practice, but it still requires some effort. 

“Yeah, well,” Reo shrugs helplessly. 

“Woof,” Nagi says, his voice flat. His head is hanging over Reo’s shoulder, half asleep. Reo turns to press a quick kiss to his white hair. 

A steward, far off in the distance, is calling him. An expression of distaste crosses his face, no worse than the one that appears on Nagi’s own when he shrugs the other boy off. 

“Nagi, stay,” Reo orders, as casually as breathing, when his guard tries to follow him. “I need you to watch over my betrothed.” 

Nagi opens his eyes lazily. “Yes, Prince.” 

He sits up, blinking and yawning. His hair is tousled. It lends him charm, making him look somewhat roguish. 

“Since you’re up, why don’t we go to the kitchens? I want to see what they’re making for dinner.” 

You have no such desires. Really, you want to provoke a reaction out of Nagi, and you get what you want. 

“Hm,” he says, thoughtfully, like he’s really considering your proposal. “Nope.” 

Then he drags you back down next to him, rolling you over in the grass like he did when you first met. It startles the same laugh out of you, childish though no longer a child, cheerful and warm. He rests his head on your stomach, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, looking up at you with eyes hidden behind his bangs. You brush his hair away from his face to see him more clearly. 

You know, to an extent, that this is unnatural, worse than wrong. No princess should be this familiar with a knight, even one sworn to her betrothed. Nagi is supposed to be safe and comfortable for this reason - decoration on the walls of the palace, unobtrusive and unassuming, a reminder of your protected status. 

But you fall for it too hard, too easily. Unlike other men, Nagi registers absolutely zero threat in your eyes. It’s not a choice. You’re defenseless by default. 

It doesn’t help that Reo finds it amusing to treat Nagi like your shared pet.  

“What’s the harm,” he says, feeding Nagi off the same spoon he uses to feed you. 

“He’s my knight, don’t mind it,” he says, when he has Nagi wait outside your door while you change to go for a stroll with him. 

“It doesn’t mean anything,” he says, dragging him along on all your dates. “You worry too much, my princess.” 

You know in your gut that Reo’s wrong, that this isn’t normal, that other princesses don’t do this with their knights, but you give in. You also want him there, after all. 

It’s driving you insane. Outside of the bubble of your little trio, the occasional odd glance and comment from a duchess or count will make you remember that it’s not you, everyone else also finds it weird. But when it’s just Nagi and Reo, it’s awkward that you’re the only one who feels strange about it. 

“What’s wrong with it?” Reo shrugs. “Nagi’s my knight. He should always be with me. Unless you’re planning on assassinating me and running away with my crown?” He throws himself over you. “Oh, no, terrible princess from a far off land. Please don’t seduce me and steal my inheritance!” 

“Tease,” you roll your eyes playfully. “If I wanted to kill you, I could’ve done it ages ago.” 

He brings your knuckles to his lips. “I know, my dear. I trust you. As much as I trust Nagi.” 

Nagi’s sprawled out at the foot of your bed again. You would think he was asleep but for the lazy patterns he’s tracing on your ankle. He got over his scandalized behavior fast. Reo had it trained out of him. 

He lifts his head at his name. Reo makes a beckoning gesture and Nagi cuddles up to him, drapes himself over his lap even though he’s too big for it.

“See,” Reo coos. “Isn’t he sweet?” 

“I do like Nagi, you know,” you feel strangely defensive. 

Reo smiles at you. “I know.” 

So Nagi continues shadowing the two of you everywhere. 

And you do mean everywhere. 

“Reo,” you whisper. “We’re- um. We’re in bed.” Your voice is strangled by embarrassment. 

“You don’t want him here?” 

Nagi makes a sound of complaint from where he’s sprawled at your feet. 

“It’s not that, it’s just- Well, what will people say?” 

“How will they know?” Reo brings your knuckles to his mouth. His lips follow up your arm to the inside of your elbow. Your shoulder. When he reaches your neck, you moan without meaning to. 

His lips are warm, his tongue wet and firm. It shocks a noise out of you. 

He laughs softly, pushing you down onto the sheets. “Princess,” he coos. “You make such delightful sounds.” 

His weight on top of you is strangely comforting, pinning your legs against the soft fabric. He mouths against your neck again, leaving little bites and kisses. You whimper against your will, unable to control yourself. Heat pools in your stomach. 

“Mm,” Reo hums. His nose brushes against your neck. “You smell so good.” 

“I’m not wearing any perfume,” you confess. 

“I like it better like this,” Reo says. 

He steals the next words out of your mouth. He kisses you open mouthed, the sound of your lips working together loud in the echoing silence of your chambers. 

You open your eyes to see Nagi watching you in the dark. His eyes are luminously bright, shining with interest as he watches Reo’s mouth press insistently against yours. 

The more you let Reo get away with, the more he pushes. He’s not the type to be appeased, only spoiled with the knowledge that you won’t stop him. 

You really shouldn’t be surprised when letting Reo clean you up after getting caught in the rain during one of your walks necessitates Nagi’s presence as well. 

Reo undoes the laces of his pants first, letting them drop to the floor. His boots have been discarded already in some corner. Now he stands in his undershorts and a simple white shirt which he shrugs off with ease. 

“You’re staring,” he says, without turning around. There’s suppressed laughter in his voice. 

Embarrassed, you jolt into action, undoing the laces of your own clothes. It’s so much more complicated than Reo’s. You can’t reach your back to unbutton your dress, but you have bigger problems. 6’3” problems, to be exact. 

Nagi’s slouching against the wall. The steam curls his already tousled hair, making it messier than it was. He’s dressed in a thin, now damp shirt. His sword is buckled haphazardly to his side. The heat must be oppressive, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“He’s guarding us,” Reo says dismissively. “Come here, my sweet, let me help you.” 

You should say no. You should ask Reo to send Nagi away. But somehow, you can’t bring yourself to. 

You try to rationalize it. Reo is the future king. Surely, he knows what’s best. 

But deep down, you know that you have no objections because of your own desires. You simply don’t want to send him away. 

“So many buttons,” Reo murmurs. His breath ghosts over the back of your neck and you shiver. “Do you like making me work for my treats, my lady?” 

You giggle and slap at him lightly. 

“Come here, Nagi,” Reo commands. “Help me.” 

Your breath catches in your throat and you stiffen. 

Standing this close to him, is a reminder of how tall he is. Not just in stature, but presence. It’s easy to forget, considering how Reo indulges his laziness, but when he’s silently undoing your clothes, you remember all over again how strong he is. He could rip your dress right off of you and save you both the trouble. Your throat goes dry. 

“Much easier,” Reo says cheerfully. His fingers dip under the collar of your dress and start tugging it off. “You don’t mind, do you, my dear? It’s just Nagi.” 

Just Nagi, you remind yourself, as his eyes sweep your naked form. It’s alright. It’s just Nagi. 

So why does he look so hungry? 

Reo crowds against you from behind you, similarly undressed. He presses a kiss to the back of your neck. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says. “Don’t you think, Nagi?” 

His guard nods silently. Then, he turns and walks out of the baths. 

“Must’ve gotten too hot for him,” Reo says, unconcerned. “Here, the bath must be warm enough by now. Come in.” 

There is nothing you and Reo do that Nagi is not a part of. He’s already slept in your bed, drawn your baths while you stood by naked. There seem to be no more boundaries left between you, or so you assume. 

Reo can think of one.

“Kiss her,” Reo tells Nagi softly. It’s late at night, and the three of you are deep in glasses of wine and even headier conversation. Your fiancé looks irresistible across from you. His fine, aristocratic features make him look like a painting in candlelight. 

Nagi leans over obediently. It’s a joke at first, kissing over Reo’s shoulder. It’s Nagi’s mouth but it’s Reo’s scent, woodsy and clean. You’re doing it because Reo asked you to. It’s just a silly little game. 

Reo strokes your back soothingly as you whimper into Nagi’s mouth. He kisses like he’s claiming you. That’s the best way to describe it, the forceful nature of Nagi’s desire. 

“He’s an animal, isn’t he?” He chuckles. “Be gentle with her. I always have to tell you to be less rough, Nagi.” 

“Sorry.” His voice is scratchy. 

“Here,” Reo suggests. “Let’s move onto the bed.” 

He directs you like the master of a play, moving you as he sees most fit. 

“Stick your tongue out,” Reo croons at you. “Let Nagi suck on it. He wants to.” 

The way Nagi kisses you is sloppy. There’s spit everywhere, but the wet friction just makes it better. You squeeze your thighs together as he pants into your mouth, licking into it, sucking on your tongue. He’s no better, pumping his hips down into the mattress desperately with need.

“Go on,” Reo murmurs, stroking Nagi’s back. “There’s a good boy. Angle your head.” 

“Princess, you’re drooling,” he laughs. “Or is that Nagi’s?” 

“Nagi,” he says, his voice dripping with adoration. “You’re so excited.” 

“Oh,” he notices your expression. You’re barely holding on. “Should I stop talking?” 

You shake your head, unable to speak, and reach out to tangle your fingers in his. His expression melts into something soft and hungry, raw tenderness and want on his face. He leans over Nagi to press a chaste kiss against your lips. 

“You’re all messy,” he chides without heat in it. A gentle hand swipes a trail of spit off your chin. 

Nagi moans under him. “Reo, Reo,” his name a constant in his mouth. “Don’t stop.” 

You look down to see Reo’s hand stroking Nagi over his pants, working him to a hardness - for you? 

Reo nudges your head back up, his cheek pressed against yours. “What’s wrong?” He says. “You’re distracted.” 

It’s so hard to focus when Nagi’s so vocal under the two of you. Your core throbs with heated desire. 

“I know, I know,” Reo coos. “I’m being mean.” 

His hands trail down your sides, barely brushing your skin. It’s almost ticklish, makes you shiver with anticipation for where he’ll touch you next. Nagi whimpers with the loss of his hand, but Reo doesn’t make him suffer for long. 

“I shouldn’t keep you waiting.” He says to you, pushing your sticky thighs apart. “Nagi, come kiss your princess again.”