Not Really; I Lied

Author’s notes: This story contains graphic lemon content. If you don’t read mature fiction, you should leave now before you worry about what that means. (: I can’t really say that some ages are restricted, because kids at the age of twelve are probably reading this anyway, and I’m not supposed to be writing this myself, so I can only warn you all about the content.

Enjoy.

Not Really; I Lied

/l\

FinaIity - - ~

Everything was dark.

No, really; it was as dark as pitch.

Only because his eyes were covered by a blindfold. A very, very soft makeshift blindfold made out of a piece of cloth that Larxene had seized from Vexen’s laboratory. Vexen obviously hadn’t noticed yet, for he hadn’t come bolting down the marble staircase nearby with his arms flailing around, angrily cursing to himself.

Zexion couldn’t hear Vexen’s boots clattering, either, meaning he wasn’t going to be salvaged anytime soon. He waited patiently on the fainting couch where Larxene had left him, his cheek buried in the cushion. His face dug further into the fabric as he moved his bound arms above his head.

Had she practiced binding people before doing this to him? He’d been lying there for approximately ten minutes now, attempting to get his hands back from their temporary hostage situation as the blonde bitch ran out with a giggle. This, he mused to himself, was one of the many reasons he wanted to tear her in half sometimes.

She easily compensated. Every time.

“If I get a single finger on her, she’ll be regretting every moment of this,” he quietly roared, wriggling slightly to shift his position. Sadly, he failed, and his face was back in the couch as soon as it had been lifted off. His head was back up again, for he wasn’t going down without a fight, and his teeth assaulted the fabric around his wrists. It took him a few moments to locate the fabric with his mouth since he had no way of seeing it, but he finally managed to get his mouth latched onto it. The fabric stretched to accommodate his teeth, making his task all the more difficult as he bit and tore.

“I’ll tear her to pieces,” he growled in frustration, attempting to do the same thing to the fabric he was just about attacking. The door handle twisted, and he heard the clattering of a heeled boot coming his way. His mouth paused mid-chew as he heard a feminine giggle.

It wasn’t an ordinary giggle. It was a giggle that spoke volumes, mostly mocking him for the position he had landed himself into.

“My, my, Zexion,” Larxene mocked. “This is quite a predicament you’re in.” She paused momentarily to glue a smirk onto her face. “How do you feel right now?”

Zexion gave a moment or two to make it look like he was actually pondering his comment before voicing his venomous thoughts. “Like ripping you apart, of course.” He had the audacity to smirk right back.
“I’m shaking,” she mockingly bit back, reaching down to remove his blindfold in one fluid motion. His eyes looked like solid ice cubes, but they burned her own as he spoke.

“There never really was a breakthrough discovery that Vexen had made, now, was there? It was all just an elaborate plan to trap me in your room, wasn’t it?” He swung his arms over his head and in front of him after finally sitting up. Having failed his attempts of getting up multiple times before she’d arrived, he’d given up. His coordination had been eliminated once his eyes had been covered.

“That’s pretty much it in a nutshell,” she laughingly stated, having the cheek to push him back on the fainting couch and sit on his lap, facing him. Her lithe hands went to his own, her fingers slowly attempting to undo the knot unsuccessfully before she finally lost her patience.

“…fucking knot.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Zexion audaciously drawled.

Larxene merely scoffed in response to his comment. A yellow blade melted out of the hollow between her knuckles before the instrument was expertly swiped through the ties, effectively ripping them to shreds. “I hope you had some…” She waited for the appropriate word to reveal itself. “…fun.”

He scoffed, anchoring his hands around his waist.

“Don’t make me keep you that way next time,” she warned as she leaned her head forward, tilting it down slowly. Their foreheads almost collided as she placed her mouth against his, ending his thoughtful look that he almost voiced the source of. Her mouth melted against his, opening in compliance when he licked a scorching path against he seam of her lips.

He still tasted like peppermint.

She sharply inhaled as they parted, taking the opportunity to rake her hands through his messy locks and grasp them momentarily before releasing her hold on the silken strands. His hair never failed to amaze her when she compared it to his personality.

But enough about that.

Zexion’s tongue seared her own as it dragged through her mouth, Larxene’s own striking up a battle for dominance as she pressed herself more firmly against his solid frame. Her hands slowly went up to place themselves atop his shoulders, crossing themselves to both bring his head closer and to give her a firm grip on the man she was straddling.

A soft moan slipped past her lips and went directly to his ears, electrifying is senses. Larxene ground her hips against his expertly, making the sixth order slightly tilt his head back from the raw pleasure. His mouth opened in a silent groan, eyes squeezed shut as she worked her hips above him like a rolling wave.

They disrobed quickly, their clothes being peeled away from their bodies in a flurry of black fabric. Their clothes landed into a quickly growing pile on the ground, the mass looking like a tumor as their undergarments were tossed on top of it quickly, Larxene’s lace bra and panties seeming like some cherry on top of a sundae. It had taken what felt like seconds of effort to have them both completely stripped.

Zexion did, momentarily, wonder why she had chosen a color as bright as red for her underclothes, but then remembered her comment of “Xemnas can’t complain about my lingerie bring the wrong color, so fuck him.” He threw his concentration back to the nude Nobody now underneath him on the fainting couch, seeing her obviously disgruntled face as she rubbed the back of her head.

That, he thought to himself, was the explanation for his internal question regarding how she had gotten underneath him. So he hadn’t been inactive in his brief thinking period.

“I had better not have a huge lump on the back of my head in a few minutes, you pompous fucker,” she complained, rubbing her head a bit more with her eyes closed.

She knew he honestly didn’t care, but complaining showed him that she wasn’t one to go down without a fight.

“Somebody is feeling rather rushed,” Zexion commented mockingly, placing his lips against Larxene’s neck, moving lower and lower as she processed the newly acquired information.

“Look who’s talking,” she smartly bit back, sounding every bit like an angered three-year-old. Her mouth came in contact with the shell of his ear as he came close enough for the contact, and her tongue ran across the cartilage slowly, burning a circular path before she nipped his ear almost playfully. Her hands gently situated themselves on his back, just barely making contact with the curve of his spine as she cradled her head in the crook of his neck.

One hand moved itself into the base of his hair, her fingers mildly massaging his scalp as she kissed him gently for a change. He responded fervently, attempting to assume control of their situation when one of his hands gently brushed between her legs where she desperately needed him most.

She fisted her hands into his hair, tilting her head back as he suddenly moved his head up to place his lips against her jaw, biting and licking the skin quickly before jumping down to her breasts.

His searing hot—utterly wicked, if you ask Larxene—mouth clamped itself onto one of her breasts, his tongue working on her puckered nipple expertly enough to have the Apathetic Princess impassioned enough to cry out his name.

Zexion’s kisses trailed down from her throat, past the valley between her breasts, and down to her abdomen before he gave her a rather erotic bite between her legs, using his tongue for the briefest moment to make her write a little more at his touch. She smelled like arousal, but there was the faint scent of lemons somewhere as well.

Zexion let out a deep, throaty moan that vibrated into Larxene’s mouth as he kissed her again, his hands once again reaching down to grab a hold of her steady hips as he quickly rammed himself into her, not heeding the sudden groan of pleasure that was torn from Larxene’s mouth as he entered her with a carnally satisfying ferocity.

The Tactician could have sworn he saw her eyes roll to the back of her head as he began thrusting into her at a steady, heated pace before driving his hips into her as hard as he could, making her do everything but scream out his name. She was clawing at the fainting couch senselessly and pointlessly, trying to grab a hold of something but to no avail. The blonde woman finally gave up and reached behind her to grab the neck rest, her arms to either side of her. Her knuckles turned white in seconds as she practically fastened her hands to the couch.

Zexion couldn’t help but let a smirk melt onto his mouth.

The minutes ticked by quickly, but to them, it felt like an eternity. They were both dangling on the edge of completion, their hands inches away from grasping the idolized state of body and mind. They were close; so painfully close. He changed his angle in a heartbeat, tilting her lower down so that he could push against her most painfully sensitive areas.

Zexion could feel his energy slowly depleting as he pushed himself into her faster, his face twisting into a look that resembled pain more than pleasure. Larxene knew he was as dreadfully close to his breaking point as she was, and she couldn’t hold herself back any longer.

Her walls clamped around him tightly, eliciting a groan from Zexion’s mouth and the tightening of his hands at her hips. He did absolutely nothing when he came, but merely sank himself deeper into her body with a soundless shudder and a barely concealed moan that made Larxene want to fuck him all over again despite her extreme lack of energy.

He collapsed on top of her on the fainting couch, not really caring if he crushed her due to the lack of space. If he flipped over now, he’d just wind up on the floor. Besides, her breasts were a rather effective substitute for a pillow, so he wasn’t complaining.

“I’m hoping everything is well for you down there, peppermint mouth,” she mocked, giving him a flick to the head as he adjusted his head on her chest.

“So glad you care about my well-being, lemon l—“

“Shut your fucking face.”

Zexion only chuckled in response as he bit down rather forcefully on her nipple.

“Don’t make me throw you off.”

These two, obviously, don’t know the meaning of the phrase “pillow talk” and they damn well want to keep it that way.

~

LAWLZ. This fic was obviously rushed (HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH k.), so excuse me if it SUCKED at the end, because I had no crafty ending to shove in here. I hope you enjoyed it all the same, though. :] <3