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#technically a bath thought
tototavros · 2 years
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shower thought: the lord’s prayer can be sung to the tune of “Oh My Darling, Clementine” 
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labtechkarin · 1 year
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When Amanda yelled at John and said, "Fix me motherfucker! I'm standing right here." <3 my poor little meow meow
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cats-and-confusion · 1 year
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"Sleepy, you need to take a bath."
"I don't wanna."
"If you don't clean all that blood off you're going to start looking like Elmo. Do you want to look like Elmo?"
"Gasp! No! Elmo is my sworn enemy!"
"Then get in the water, missy."
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felixjoyful · 2 years
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Being a writer of stories is like being a cabinet maker.
Some know how to craft perfectly functional and useful cabinets, that just need a nice enough finish to be highly desirable.
Some know how to make detailed decorative masterpieces that just need to be functional enough to still be a cabinet.
Some are expert in tricked out pieces of wood with hidden drawers and secret compartments. Just gotta make sure it's still somewhat a cabinet or you'll end up with a non functional curios.
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moomin-happiness · 2 months
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It's fun playing moomin while my sister watches because she's seen a few of the episodes but she's not suuuuper into it so while playing the game I got to introduce her to some of the characters :D
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animeficsworld · 4 months
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The Caged Beast
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Itadori Yuji x Reader / Sukuna Ryomen x Reader
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There was a curse living inside your husband.
The strongest curse was only able to stay alive inside Itadori.
Rather than choosing death, Sukuna decided to stay in Yuji.
As the years passed, many things happened.
Yuji changed, grew into a man, met you and got married.
You were a kind soul.
Someone even Sukuna looked at with suspicion. 
Kind yet deadly, is the correct description.
You could be smiling, baking cookies in one second and in the next, you could be slaying curses left and right.
Sukuna had to admit, that Yuji chose well. He approved of you.
And now, after three years of marriage, you were pregnant. 
Your first child and Sukuna knew it would be a girl.
A little girl indeed.
A beautiful and healthy little girl. 
A true princess.
Yuji helped you every second of your pregnancy and even now with your baby.
He helped when he didn't have to go to fight.
Like now, Yuji was out with Megumi while you gave a bath to your daughter.
Yui, lovingly named after his father, was a rather calm baby. She liked to sleep and babble when she was awake. 
Yui adored her father and you. She wanted to be held at all times.
A true princess.
You soon dried her with a soft towel and got her into her fluffy pyjamas. 
Placing her on your chest you started to watch a show on TV.
The front door opened, but you were too immersed in the show to care.
"Food is on the table, I'm watching this, I hope the lady wins!" you said not looking away but you did notice your husband walk into the room. He moved over and got Yui from your chest, placing it on his as he sat down next to you on the couch.
His silence should have alarmed you.
It truly should have.
But it didn't.
Instead, you didn't even notice that Yuji didn't say a word until the show was long finished.
Then you felt it, the change, but it didn't scare you.
"Nice to see you from time to time. What prompted your visit?" you turned and looked at Ryomen.
His eyes locked with yours.
"I just wanted to see my Princess." he said as he ran his hand down Yui's back.
"She is Yuji's Princess." you said as you reached for your cup of tea and started to drink.
"I live inside this idiot. You made sure I would never leave. At least, let me have an hour with her."
You found it strange how Ryomen liked your daughter so much.
"You can have your hour. Just making sure you know she is not yours."
"She is My Princess. The only being on this world worth being in this idiot's body."
"Ouch. So it is not worth living for me? And here I thought we had a thing."
"I would have made you my bride. You are way too powerful for me to ignore." you nodded and began to look for something on the TV.
Yui slowly began to stir.
"She must be hungry," you said. "Her bottle is on the counter." you pointed behind yourself, not looking away from the TV.
"Are you joking?"
"It is part of your hour, go feed her." 
Sukuna mumbled something under his breath before leaving to get the bottle.
As he sat in her room, feeding and burping her, Sukuna wondered if he should tell you.
Since he became a part of Itadori's body, when you bonded their souls during a fight, technically this was as much as his body as it was Itadori's. So technically, the child sleeping in his arms was as much his as it was Itadori's.
Yuji asked you during a very intense fight to bond Sukuna to his body. Destroy the rest of his fingers and kill him.
But you couldn't do it.
You love Yuji too much to hurt him, instead, you bonded Sukuna to his soul, using Yuji as a cage to hold the beast.
You didn't know but by doing so, you got Sukuna's blood mixed with Yuji's. You didn't know or rather you chose to ignore the fact.
Sukuna was sure you didn't know but had suspicions.
You were a smart woman after all.
But you loved Yuji. Sukuna was just a plus one in the mix, one no one asked for or needed. But he was there.
Yui is Yuji's daughter. And you will never let anyone tell you otherwise.
--- 
You looked up as he exited the room, it was Yuji this time.
You smiled at him as you rushed to hug him.
"Did you put her to sleep?"
"Yup. Weird, I can't remember coming home."
"You are too tired, let's go to bed." 
Yuji smiled and you both moved to the bedroom.
You quickly fell asleep when Ryomen decided that he still had 10 minutes of his hour.
He looked at you sleeping beside him, it was strange. He only ever cared about power.
He lived to see the fear in people.
And yet, you never feared him, he feared you.
Your fierce attitude, your power and that look... is that what they call a mother's look? You could make the entire room shut up with just one look of yours.
Fierce and powerful. Yuji didn't deserve you in his eyes, he did.
But he was okay with getting just an hour with you and Yui... for now.
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dantakeyoman · 1 year
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the, “his secret mate.” part in your fic where she took the bullet from neteyam had me tearing up huhuhu can we get the detail of their intimacy in relationship before that war? not always to be nsfw, but fluff with full of lovesick moments aarghhwbd
You and Neteyam Mate In Secret (Slight-NSFW / Comfort)
Prologue of "You Take The Bullet"
CW: nsfw implied ( and a little described ), right after his second birth ( he is now a tribe-observed man, and part of the People ), you and Neteyam are so in love, kinda magical ngl, reminder that Utral Aymokriyä is the place Jake and Neytiri mated, Neteyam is a consent king
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"You skxawng! Where are you taking me?" you laughed, Neteyam's hand in yours as he ran through the forest with you, his trademark smile plastered on his face.
"You'll see," he teased, jumping off a large tree root and landing on the mossy ground.
You did your best to keep up, jumping as well, but you landed off balance, and were about to fall.
Neteyam noticed this and quickly turned around, yanking you toward him so you landed in his chest, instead of the mud.
You sighed, pulling your face out of his pecs, and resting on it instead.
You were tired.
This man had made the both of you sprint from Hometree, all the way to....wherever here was.
Technically, the both of you weren't even supposed to be out right now.
Neteyam had just had his Second Birth, and was supposed to be spending it with the People.
But through the commotion, he managed to sneak the both of you out.
"I must show you something. Come!" his words echoed in your head.
If Neteyam wanted to sneak out, then it must be something incredibly important.
"Irayo," you panted, breathless as you took your quick break.
A dark tint of blue rested on his cheeks as he nodded, his hands instinctively going to rest on your hips.
"Kea tìkin," he assured, averting his eyes from you so you could not see his blush.
Noticing the slight purple-ish glow that was shining from behind him, you lifted your head, peeking over his shoulder and gasping at the sight.
Utral Aymokriyä.
"Oh, Neteyam!" you gasped, quickly breaking from the hug and walking over to the large tree.
It stood tall, and proud, like the might of thousands lay hiding in it's branches.
Despite being Omaticaya, you had never been to this place. Though you had constantly told Neteyam how you dreamed of doing so one day.
Out-stretching your arms, you walked toward the base of the tree, smiling as you allowed all of it’s tendrils to rake over you, softly.
Neteyam did the same, but not without letting his gaze linger on you.
He couldn't help but smile as he watched you experience the tree in wonder.
You were adorable.
The tree bathed you in purple light, accentuating your every feature.
Your beauty was a sight to behold, that was what caught his attention first. 
Your face was sculputure-like, ethereal.
Even if he were to stare at your face for hours, he wouldn’t be able to find a single thing wrong. 
You laughed, dancing with a tendril of the tree as if it were another person.
And your voice. It came out so smooth and silky, like his favorite song on repeat.
Sitting down on the ground, you rested your hands on the ground, shutting your eyes and allowing yourself to feel the beautiful energy the tree was emitting.
It wasn’t just your physical features, either.
It was the way you carried yourself, the way you were strong, and tough, yet soft and kind for your people and Pandora.
You had this man weak in the knees every time you crossed paths, and it was getting to the point where it was affecting his day-to-day life.
All he thought of was you. Eat, sleep, breathe, repeat. You.
You were a distraction, but a beautiful one. One that deserved to be protected by every ounce of his being.
"My mother took me here when I was no older than a baby," Neteyam started, walking over and sitting down next to you.
"She said this was a place for prayers to be heard. ....And sometimes answered."
He took his queue, making tsaheylu with a soft sigh, before turning back to you, who was watching him in peaceful, silent awe.
It made him blush.
You did the same, a soft gasp leaving you lips as you shut your eyes, the songs and chants of past peoples dancing through your ears, as clear as day.
When you opened your eyes again, Neteyam chuckled at your child-like expression, your mouth slightly gaped in wonder.
“I can hear them,” you nodded, eyes trained on the tendril you were bonded with.
Neteyam disconnected the bond, and looked up at the mighty tree, your gaze burning holes into his face.
"My mother told me that now I am truly one of the People, I can make my bow out of the wood of Hometree.....and choose a woman," he cheesed, the thought of you being his mate bringing a smile to his face.
But you did not think the same.
Oh. He has already chosen.
You expression fell, but you did your best to keep your smile happy.
"Who are you going to choose? We have many good women for a future Olo'eyktan," you tearfully recommended, a quiet gasp leaving you lips as a atokirina floated down to you, resting in your palms.
Neteyam snapped his head over to you, confused.
What in the world are you talking about?
"Eyati is a good hunter."
"I do not want Eyati," he quickly shut down, looking at you intently.
Lovingly.
"Oh," you nodded. He didn't want a huntress, then.
"Ilyena is a good dancer."
Neteyam internally facepalmed.
You were not understanding.
He thought he was being quite obvious with his admiration.
His frequent touches, talking of finding a woman, taking you to a spot where people literally go to mate.
You were the only one he wants. The only one he could ever want.
What else would he have to do to get that through your head?
Once the atokirina flew away, you returned your hand to the earth, where Neteyam smoothly interlocked his with yours.
"I do not think you are understanding. I have already chosen," he smiled, looking down at your conjoined hands.
"Oh," you sighed, averting your eyes from him. "Who is the lucky woman?"
Oh, for Eywa's sake.
He groaned, cupping your face in his hand and turning you to face him, where he roughly landed his lips on yours, practically knocking the wind out of you.
At first, you were shocked. All this talk of women, and now he was kissing you?
But you decided to let a good thing be.
You kissed back, matching his roughness as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
His hands immediately went to your waist, resting his hands on your hips as he pulled out from the kiss, staring at you like a lovesick fool.
And his heart seemed to pick up speed when he saw that you were looking at him the exact same way, a beautiful smile on your face.
It seems you liked it better when he showed, not told.
He would remember that for the future.
"(y/n), it is you. You are the woman I have chosen. I cannot think of anyone better to be at my side," he beamed, switching his gaze to the glowing tendrils around him, along with the many atrokirina that decided to make an arrival.
"Do you not see? Eywa has chosen us for each other."
You were on the verge of happy tears.
You had loved this man for so, so, so long, and so hard. And to hear that he has loved you with the same intensity, if not more, was something that warmed you from the inside out.
"I see you, my Neteyam," you smiled, cupping his face in your hands, resting your forehead on his.
"I see you, my love," he smiled back, giving your lips a peck.
It wasn't enough.
As he pulled back, you chased him, attaching your lips once more, throwing your arms over his shoulders.
He groaned, his hands softly caressing your hips as he kissed back with just as much fervor.
"My Neteyam," you sighed, trailing your kisses from his lips, down to his jawline.
He understood your quiet plea, shifting his position so he sat on his knees, before lifting you into his lap.
With this new angle, he peppered your chest with loving, heavy kisses, making you sigh once more.
You raked your hands through his hair, one sensually trailing down his braid and carefully holding up his kuru.
Using your other hand, you found yours, and were about you connect them when Neteyam stopped you.
"My love, are you sure? We do not have to do this if you are not ready," he asked, firmly.
Don't get him wrong. He wanted do to this more than anything in the world.
Having you in his arms, kissing him like this, was his greatest dream come true.
But just because it was his, did not mean it was yours.
And he wanted you to do this of your own volition.
"I am ready, Neteyam. I have always been ready," you assured, resting your forehead on his as you landed another heavy kiss on his lips.
With that, he nodded, and you made tsaheylu.
And the moan you two set loose surely reached the stars.
The feeling that enveloped the both of you was too much.
You could feel everything the other was feeling perfectly. Their heartbeat, their longing, their love.
Oh, the feeling of Neteyam's love was flooding your senses so much it was overwhelming.
Every piece of exposed skin he touched burned with fiery heat, but it felt so, so good.
You had no idea he loved you to this extent.
And as he lay you down on the mossy ground, him placing feather-light kisses across your exposed chest, the vision of children flashed through your head.
His vision.
They were your children, the kids running around the tent as the two of you lay in the corner, curled into each other.
Even in a moment so intimate, even as he entered you, his thoughts still traveled to something so wholesome and domestic.
It made you blush uncontrollably, and he sensed this.
"I....hnngh...see you, my (y/n). And there...fuck....is no one else I can see to be the mother of my children...shit...," he said huskily, peppering kisses on your shoulder with each thrust.
As tears welled in your eyes, you tightened your grip around his neck, another moan escaping you lips.
"I see you....ohhh!....my Neteyam," you sighed, bringing your hands to rest on his chest.
But for the first time, the both of you felt like that word didn't express enough.
Your love for each other expanded farther than just I see you, it was indescribable.
There was no Na'vi word for it.
But there was an English one.
One Jake had taught both of you, respectfully.
"I love you!" the two of you exclaimed in unison as you finished together, Neteyam making his final thrust.
And as you both lay on the ground, intertwined, coming down from your high, Neteyam said something that made you feel all the happiness in the world.
"I am with you now, (y/n)," he sighed, a tired smile on his face.
"We are mated for life."
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kenjakusbraincum · 5 months
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Heey, I LOVE your writings on soft sukuna, you write so beautifully🩷 please can you do one where he is jealous (fluff)😭🩷
Thank you sm for the kind words!!! Here's my best attempt at doing your idea justice <3
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Sukuna has no real reason to be jealous. He practically owns you, controls every aspect of your life, who or what could he possibly be jealous of? Every servant who dared approach you in an inappropriate way would be dealt with swiftly. And you're a good pet, who has eyes for no one other than your master. You really don't give him a reason.
But there's this one thing... Since you've been so good and obedient, Sukuna has allowed you many liberties. You're permitted to skip around the mansion, watch Uraume cook, even enjoy little hobbies. You've tried many before you found that crocheting particularly piqued your interest. Ever since you've learned the basics, you've been spending hours working on perfecting your skills. At first it was cute, watching you squint in concentration as you move the hook. But then the math became really simple - having this hobby to keep you busy meant you approached Sukuna out of boredom a lot less. And he noticed it. It irked him, but you're not technically doing anything wrong. You were still as happy to serve him as ever, he just had to ask. But why would he have to ask? You should be all over him on your own. He should have to push you away, not beg you to give him attention. He didn't like this disturbance in your master and pet balance that this little hobby of yours caused.
He stands at the door now. You're crocheting again. You and your favorite servant laugh at your failed creation so sweetly, you don't even notice he's waiting. He clicks his tongue to establish his presence, and your servant falls to her knees immediately. You however, are not held to that high of a standard anymore.
"Master!", you call him, and hop up to greet him with a deep bow. Before he can say anything, you've picked up the piece of fabric you've been working on and ran into his arms to show him.
He looks at the ugly form and scoffs. "This is what I'm sponsoring?", he says and pulls a loose piece of yarn, making your little creation fall apart. He always was a bully, but you note his bad mood.
"I'm only a beginner...", you sulk.
"That much is obvious.", he flicks the yarn away and it falls onto the floor. Before you can bend to pick it up, he seizes your wrist and pulls you back. "Aren't you a little young to waste time with hobbies for the elderly?", he asks. You look at him with your cutest, practiced doe eyes, but it doesn't work.
"Come, pet. I know an activity more suitable for your age.", he says when you don't respond, and steps out of the room. You hop after him, unaffected by his condescending comments. You know that they're just for show. If he really thought you were a hag, you would've been gone a long time ago.
"Sitting at your throne all day?", you tease innocently and join him at his side, sliding your arm underneath one of his. You hope your playfulness will distract him from whatever is bothering him. "Or in a bath?" His lower set of eyes peeks at you and smirks, noticing that you're feeling particularly daring today. He's not sure how he feels about that. "Or in your bed." He rolls his eyes gently and opens the door to his chambers.
"At least then you'd be serving your purpose and actually spending time with your master.", he comments and shuts the door. His comment catches you a bit off guard and you stop in front of his bed. He makes his way towards you, and you look up at him with an insulted expression.
"Master, are you jealous of a ball of yarn?", you ask playfully, and squeal when he suddenly pushes you down to sit on the bed. Now you're at eye level... with his crotch.
"You've got quite a big mouth today. Put it to good use for a change, will you?", he runs his hand from the crown of your head to the back of your neck. You seem to have struck a nerve, so it really is the ball of yarn. Is it possible that Sukuna is this clingy?
"Will you?", he repeats and tugs on your hair and narrows his eyes. You smile obediently and reach behind him to untie his obi.
"Yes Master."
-
You try your best to manage the time you spend crocheting from then on, working on productivity in the hours that you dedicate to developing this skill. And it helps that you have a specific goal in mind now: helping Sukuna realize that this hobby is a friend, not an enemy. He still catches you engaging in it sometimes, and gives you a dirty look, but you're as quick as ever to drop what you're doing and join him. That seems to satisfy him.
When you're finally happy with the result of your creation, you look for Sukuna around the mansion. It's not really that hard to find him, as he frequents three places most of all: the dining room, his bedroom and his throne room. This time, he's sitting on his throne, and a small line of people wait for their turn to be gifted his attention. You on the other hand, don't have to wait in line to get it. His lower set of eyes spots you the moment you enter the chamber. You're allowed to roam the mansion, but barging in unannounced is not standard even for you.
Still, Sukuna has learned that you usually only feel daring enough to cross boundaries when you're sure he'll like what you have in mind. So for now, he will let this slide. He's bored as hell anyways. The people are dismissed and you pass by them on your way to his throne, nestled on a pile of bones. You stop in front of it and greet him with a bow.
"Master, I come to you with a humble offering.", you say with your hands on your thighs and your eyes fixated on the ground.
"Show me.", he says simply, but you recognize entertainment in his voice. You climb up the bones and feel his stare scan you from head to toe, before you sit on his knee.
"May I ask you to close your eyes?", you ask and flutter your lashes. Oh the way you seduce him. Who else could ask Sukuna to do something as dangerous as close his eyes? Give his opponent valuable time to land an attack. Who else could dare? And who else would he ever listen to and really close his eyes? Really do as he's told? Oh how safe he feels with you.
You take one of his large hands into yours, and gently pry his long fingers away to open his palm. He has beautiful hands. The only ones you've ever known, but you're sure they're the most beautiful hands in the world. So dangerous, so elegant. You want to press a kiss to his palm, but you hope your gift will have the same, maybe even more profound effect.
Something soft touches his skin, and then you speak, as politely as before. "You may look.", in your softest voice. And when he opens his eyes, he finds himself looking at you first. You're an offering on your own.
Then he looks at his hand. Two crocheted plush figures resembling him and yourself lay flat on his palm, connected through their holding hands. At first glance, it looks like they're two separate creations. In a sense, they are, but... He tries to part them.
"We're sewn together.", you explain. He hums in amusement and inspects your gift more closely. His plush is bigger, recognizable by the pink hair and four buttons for eyes. It's even wearing his favorite kimono. Yours is smaller and less detailed. You look like any other human when placed next to him, insignificant. But in a sea of pets, entertainers and lovers he's had in the past, he would never fail to recognize it as you.
He's spent so long looking at it with that face of his that you just can't read. You're starting to grow restless in his lap, and he feels your eyes dwell into his soul. When he looks back at you with one pair of eyes, your brows are furrowed in worry and you're fiddling your hands in your lap. He pats you on the head and pulls you closer, so you have no choice but to lean on his frame.
"It's beautiful, darling.", his fingers run through your hair, scraping your scalp softly. "No loose threads either.", he looks at you with all four eyes now, and you feel so small in his arms. You're not used to receiving this many compliments from Sukuna at once. Not ones that weren't directed at your body or performance. Especially not when he's looking at you so tenderly, when every word sounds so loving and genuine. "You've improved so much.", his hand is on your face now, and you catch him glancing at your lips. You part them to start thanking him, but you already know how much he hates listening to that.
You stay quiet instead, and lean closer, letting him take you. And he kisses you so softly, fingertips light against your heated skin. You feel like you're floating, like a lily pad in a warm pond. The littlest gesture of his affection has you melting in his embrace. The power he has over you... and how wonderful it is to surrender yourself to it.
None of the liberties and privileges you've been awarded with compare to this. You know that many pets have walked these halls before you. Many warmed his bed and claimed the title of his favorite. But how many loved him like this? Enough to dedicate time of their day to making intricate gifts. How many could say Sukuna kissed them lovingly, for no other reason than to show gratitude and affection?
You're flushed completely red by the time his lips leave yours. You can't hold the intensity of his gaze, as he stares at you in adoration. "I'm happ.. I'm glad you l-like it...", you stumble through the words and win a giggle out of him. You are just so cute. Like a pet should be. He rubs your head again and pushes you away lightly.
"Go now, the people await me.", he says with a benevolent smile gracing his face. "I'll see you tonight."
You bow to him and leave.
And when you visit him that night, he is as gentle as he was when he kissed you earlier, still in a good mood after your gift. Caressing your hair, shoulders and back, as you lay comfortably with your head on his chest. Keeping you warm in his embrace. You're trying your best to follow the conversation, but sleep is slowly taking over you. Sukuna notices and plants a kiss to your forehead, wishing you goodnight. The last thing you see before your eyes close, is your handcrafted plushies sitting on his nightstand.
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slutforln4 · 1 month
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DEVOTION
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🖇️ you liked being secret. it was something sacred between the two of you. you liked it so much, you started to hate it
🖇️ pairing: lando norris x teammate reader
🖇️ 8.2k words, angst & smut | second part to crave
🖇️ took me another month to finish, but as demotivating as this was, i hope i get back to posting more frequently :)
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Clandestine meetings soon became you two’s most trusted secret.
The gentle touches, quiet whispers, longing glances and warm smiles were something you had grown to love. And your favourite part about it being secret? It was all about you.
In public, you’d pay no mind to Lando. During races, you’d still act like you hate him, still try and cause trouble on the track. But in private, where the only set of eyes on you were the green irises of the man you love, you’d be the centre of attention.
Lando’s hands wouldn’t touch you the same way in public as they do in the enclosed space of his driver room, hotel room, or your home. And that excited you.
You liked being secret. It was something sacred just between the two of you.
You liked it so much, you started to hate it. Maybe it was just the fact that Lando took you being a secret a bit too far. Or maybe it was just his way of hiding your relationship, if you’d even call it that.
You just couldn’t understand him going out with another girl, but still ending up in your bed at the end of the day.
Especially when you had deleted every dating app, got rid of every memory of any guy you were talking to, all because you and Lando have the chance to become something.
Your hope of that lessens everytime you see rumours of him going out with girls. It’s never anything romantic, just him at a table with a new girl every other week, so it didn’t bother you as much.
The bubbles in your hotel bathtub were softly caressing your skin when you saw the picture.
Casually scrolling on your phone in the bath as you waited for the conditioner to absorb into your hair, you made the horrible decision of clicking on that tempting X icon in the top left corner of your homescreen.
The first post? A picture of Lando’s tongue down a girl’s throat.
For the first time in a long time, Lando was the reason for that burning and disgusted feeling in your stomach. It felt like it was making its way up, the feeling getting caught in your throat as you type something out into a tweet, shut your phone off and drop it to the floor.
Even when you weren’t looking at it, the picture was burned into the back of your eyelids.
The mere image of his hands on her waist— the same hands he touched you with— was enough to make you feel that hatred crawling back.
As if on cue, your phone started ringing and the contact was none other than Lando himself.
“Hey, darling.”
You rolled your eyes at the familiar pet name. “Hi, Lando.”
Shuffling was heard on the other side of the call, you could only assume Lando was still in bed with the girl from that picture. “What’s with the tone? No ‘Lan’, no ‘baby’?”
“Sorry,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Stressful day.”
Lando chuckled. “Baby, we work at the same place. I’d know if you were off because of a stressful day. What’s wrong?”
You hated how he knew you inside and out, yet to you he had glued himself shut and you can’t pry yourself in.
“I don’t know.”
A sigh brushed past Lando’s lips. He knew why you were in a mood, and it didn’t exactly excite him to do that to you. In all honesty, he didn’t even know why he did it. It just happened, and you’re technically not together, so he thought it wasn’t a big deal.
The call stays silent for a minute or two, both of you trying to come up with what to say. Lando speaks first. “Come to my room. 304.”
“Lan, I’m no-” He hung up before you could even respond.
You finished your bath, hoping the water washes away whatever feeling was brewing in your chest.
The view of yourself in the mirror made you feel pathetic— why were you sulking over some guy?
It wasn’t even anyone special. Just the guy you’ve been in love with for about as long as you’d known him. The guy, who confuses you beyond words. You can’t help but try to decode whatever lies in the gaps and the silence, yet having no luck.
Despite being confused and frustrated, you dried your hair and changed into your PJs, and locked the hotel room behind yourself.
Lando’s room was just across the hall, the fourth door from yours.
This all felt too familiar, only fuelling the confusion and fear in your chest. It suffocated you, the notion that despite you being Lando’s, he wasn’t entirely yours.
Yet you still spent the night with him— slow and borderline loving, careful hands travelling your body and hungry lips trailing your neck.
And in the morning, the sun just above the horizon, you slipped from Lando’s grasp and found yourself crying away your mascara before it’s properly dried.
The black taint stained your cheeks, dripping down your chin and onto your sweatpants. You felt partly relieved to know Lando’s having fun. You’d hate to be the one to stop him from going out and finding other girls.
But that’s also what made you partly heartbroken.
It’s not even about you being hurt, it’s about other girls being replacements for each other, not knowing that you’re just like them— aching and breaking for someone that doesn’t see you the same way.
Your phone dings with a message as you wipe your tears away.
Lando: Don’t like morning cuddles anymore?
A giggle slipped past your lips before you thought to catch it, and you quickly typed up a reply.
You: I have a breakfast thing with Carlos.
You: Knew I’d probably ditch it if I were to cuddle you awake.
Lando: Will I see you at the party tonight?
Lando: DJs booth, just the place to be :))
You: I’ll think about it.
Except that you already had. You decided to go, more so for yourself than for Lando, but the thought that you’d get to spend more time with him sure was a bonus.
You continued on with getting ready as you called your brother and asked if he wanted to get breakfast. He instantly agreed, and you changed into something more casual and comfortable than the tear stained sweatshirt and mascara stained sweatpants.
Carlos was waiting for you in his car.
When you got in, he immediately felt something was off. Ever since you were little, it seemed like he had some sort of telepathy with you. Whenever you were sad, Carlos was there and comforting you.
He’s not sure what exactly is wrong right now, but he knows you need your big brother.
Carlos presses a few buttons on the control panel of the car and the sound of your favourite song plays. Your head turns to look at Carlos with an appreciative look on your face, a small smile adorning your lips.
You watch as he starts driving and turns the volume up, slowly beginning to dance along to the song as he mouths the lyrics. Soon, you broke out of your sadness and sang along with your brother.
This was exactly why you never gave up. Him.
Carlos has always been a great brother. You were still very small when you realised that. And everyday, every year, he proves that to be more and more true. Like when you were fourteen.
That year, the taste of heartache became familiar on your tongue.
It was the first time you had felt the touch of a male. It still lingered weeks after it happened. You felt loved and cared for, until you didn’t. Carlos was there through all of it, comforting you and threatening to beat that guy up for you.
Even though he was as protective as he could be, your heart kept breaking. It fixed itself, glued each broken shard back together, only to shatter again.
The flavour of love soon tasted more bitter than sweet. And you’re starting to feel the same way at twenty-four.
Minus the heart breaking and fixing itself part, but the flavour of bitterness still lingered on your tongue as you tried to wash it down with orange juice.
“Is it good?” Carlos points to your caesar salad with his fork, mouthful of scrambled eggs muffling his voice.
You poke at your food with a fork and shrug. “A bit bitter, but it’s fine.”
Carlos laughs at that, as he grabs your plate and switches it with his own. “The scrambled eggs are a bit… difficult to chew. But it’s better than croutons and whatever else is in this.”
You watch your brother take a bite of the salad, immediately making a face and trying his best not to spit it out. “You okay?”
“Mhm,” he says, through a faux pained expression. “It’s delicious.”
“I bet it is.”
Laughter came so easily when you were with your brother.
Carlos made you laugh so much you’d feel your abdomen grow sore with every giggle and laugh that escaped your lips. And Carlos loved seeing your eyes form into crescent moons, knowing that he’s still able to somehow make you feel better.
“Are you going to the party?” Carlos asks as you get out of his car, back at the hotel.
“Yep,” you shrug. “I don’t see why not.”
Carlos gives you a look as if he knew something, but said nothing about it. You brushed it off and made your way to the lobby. You ask for your key at reception, take the elevator to the fourth floor and as you’re about to unlock room 301, Lando’s hotel room door opens.
You don’t turn around to look, because you expect it to be Lando and you’re not sure if you want to talk to him right now. But what makes you whip your head to the left is the sound of a female giggle.
There she was. Same brown hair, same tan skin, same beautiful figure. Identical to the picture you had seen on twitter.
It made you sick to your stomach. Especially when you could see Lando’s head peeking out to kiss her goodbye, and you swore you could see his eyes focused on you. Though you can’t be sure, because as soon as you saw his curly brown hair, you were stepping into your hotel room.
It takes about fifteen minutes for you to calm down and for Lando to knock on your door.
You opened it expecting it to be room service, but Lando slipped inside before you could close the door on him. “You’re avoiding me.”
“I’d have no reason to, even if I was.” You shrug as you take a seat on the bed. Lando squats down in front of you, the palms of his hands flattening on your knees.
He rests his bearded chin on the top of his hand. “What’s wrong?”
“I already told you,” you shrug, before leaning back to push yourself up on the palms of your hands. “I’m stressed with the races starting up again.”
“You’ve been doing just fine, baby.” Lando reassures you. “You got second place, remember?”
“That’s the problem. I’m always in second place.” You’re not sure if you’re talking about the race or not anymore, but you mean whatever you said.
Lando leaned up to try and kiss you, but you turned away.
“And I think it’s best if we stay friends.”
That hit Lando right in the gut. He felt his chest constricting under the weight of your words, all the air being squeezed out of his lungs as each word plugged his airways.
“What? What do you mean?”
You shrug. “I want to focus on my career.”
Lando runs the palms of his hands across his face. He’s not sure why, but he has a feeling it’s got to do with the girl who left his hotel earlier. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“I guess.” You shrug, sitting up and looking at him. Lando now stood on his feet, looking down at you as his fingers softly grabbed your chin.
He lifted your face up to look at him, thumb softly brushing past your bottom lip. As if it’s a habit, your lips parted and he smirked.
Lando knows you don’t mean it. You know it, too. You just needed a reason to get a break from him, even though you really don’t fucking want to.
Lando sits beside you, the familiar warmth of his hands wrapping around your waist and next thing you know, you’re on his lap. His lips don’t hesitate to kiss away any thought of you two staying just friends.
As much as this relationship hurt you, it was irresistible.
You longed for the lingering taste of Lando’s saliva mixing with yours, the warmth of his hands perfectly slotted on your waist, the lasting vibration of his moans in your mouth.
And Lando longed for it just the same.
He couldn’t tell you why he was going out with a different girl every other night, for the past two weeks of you two being… something.
Lando’s not even sure himself. It’s just something he was used to, but these times around it just felt so wrong. Yet he couldn’t say no to those girls, until he’s sure you feel the same overwhelming feeling of love he has for you.
When you fall asleep in his arms, Lando fights the internal battle to stay with you. But he knows it’s for the better if he leaves before you wake up.
The warmth of his body still cradles the sheets he laid in when you get woken up by a call.
You swallow down the bittersweet feeling in your throat before picking up, slumber still lingering on your tongue. “Hello?”
“Morning, lil’ Sainz.” Daniel’s cheery tone tickles your ear as you turn on your side. “Are you hungry?”
You check the clock on the wall. Six in the evening never looked so bright, but again, you’re in Las Vegas and it’s never dark in the city that never sleeps.
“Sure, what do you have in mind?”
Daniel’s smile can be heard from a mile away when he talks and it warms you up inside. “Sushi or pizza, your pick.”
“Hm,” you sit up and stretch, finally letting Lando’s warmth slip away from your skin. “I’m feeling like sushi, to be honest.”
“Sushi it is! See you in twenty.”
And in twenty minutes, you were sitting on your hotel room bed, Daniel telling you stories about Max and you stuffing sushi into your mouth, trying not to choke as you laughed.
“Are you going to the party?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” You ask, noticing how it’s the third time you’ve heard the same question.
Daniel shrugs. “I’m just wondering,” he explains. “Don’t know if I would’ve gone without you.”
Over the last few weeks, you and Daniel have become close. So close that he’s probably the only one on the grid that knows about the little situationship you have going on with Lando.
But Daniel never brings him up, not unless you want to talk about it.
“I’m going,” you answer his previous question. “I bought a dress for this specific occasion.”
“Care to show it?”
You bounced to your feet at his question and made your way to your suitcase, not noticing how Daniel’s eyes followed each of your moves. You pulled out a black dress before making your way to your bathroom and trying it on.
Daniel waited patiently as you got dressed, the sushi entertaining him until the bathroom door opened.
The sushi he held up with his chopsticks never made it to his mouth, stuck mid-air as he gaped at the image in front of him — a long, silk dress with a slit deep enough to reveal the tender flesh of your left thigh, your shoulders adorned by thin and delicate straps.
You giggle at Daniel’s reaction. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
The aussie briefly nods. “It’s gorgeous.”
You roll your eyes, leaning against the doorway with your arms crossed over your chest. “Now, without pretending to be Lando?”
“It’s beautiful on you. Gonna make him drool,” Daniel grins at you. “My impression’s spot on and you know it.”
You giggle as you roll your eyes again, turning back around to the bathroom. The door doesn’t close shut this time, which prompts Daniel to rise to his feet and investigate what you were up to.
Leaning against the doorway, his golden eyes carefully watched as you dabbed on makeup. “Do you really need all that?”
“Yeah, you could use some, too.” You tease, leaning against the bathroom cabinet to get closer to the mirror.
“I mean,” you turn to Daniel when he shrugs. “You’ll be crying it off anyway.”
A used wet-wipe lands on Daniel’s crossed arms, him laughing and you threatening to throw another one. “Get out.”
“Alright, alright.” He raises his hands in defeat. “I’m picking you up in an hour, hopefully you’re done caking yourself in makeup by then.”
“Bye, Daniel.” You raise your voice as if to urge him to leave.
“See you, love.”
The hotel room door closes and you’re left alone again, thoughts of Lando quickly seeping back into your mind.
It’s like every time you tried to get rid of him, he found a way back in. And who are you to say no to him?
When you fell asleep in his arms earlier, the familiar scent of him clouding your mind, you felt it again. And as much as you cursed yourself for feeling it, you couldn’t help but let the feeling bloom in your chest.
Lando felt it too, and he felt it full force when he saw you walking into the club with Daniel’s arm around your waist. Yet the feeling of love in his chest was mixed with a tinge of jealousy. Or maybe more than a tinge, because his jaw clenched at the mere sight of your little dress swaying with every step you took.
“Everything alright, Lan?” Lando’s armcandy of the night mumbles against his neck.
His green eyes track you from across the club, narrowing in on you when you spot him and give him a small wink. “Everything’s perfect, babygirl.”
You felt sick to your stomach at the sight of Lando and the same girl from earlier. His arm was gripping her waist in a way you thought was special to you and it made your skin crawl.
“You think he believed it?”
You turn to Daniel as he asks, sitting back in the booth you two shared. “I think so.”
“I can keep the act going, if you’d like.” He offers with a cheeky grin decorating his face.
You sip the margarita he had ordered for you, before smiling softly. “I’ll take you up on that, then.”
The night seems to pass you by as you get occupied in a conversation with your brother and his friends. Soon, the blasting music and fluorescent lights began to bore you, so you chose to scan the club for something to do.
When the dance floor catches your eye, you grab Daniel’s wrist. “Get up.”
The golden eyed man doesn’t utter a word as he gets up and follows you, ready to go wherever you take him. He quickly realises what you want to do, his arm snaking around your waist in an incredibly familiar way.
Daniel feels your hand find the back of his neck as he pulls you in from behind, slowly moving your hips against his. It’s a platonic act, both of you know it, but at the moment, Daniel feels like it’s more than just a ruse to make Lando jealous.
Maybe, for the night, he could let loose and show you what a good man is. Maybe, if it all goes right, he’d get to take you back to the hotel, too.
He loses all hope for that when he notices your eyes scanning the room again, looking for the one and only Lando Norris.
The man stood at the bar, green eyes carefully narrowed at the hand that’s slowly moving closer to your inner thighs.
He’s not sure why he’s so fucking jealous. It’s not like he wasn’t doing the same damn thing twenty minutes ago, hands exploring parts of the armcandy’s body they’ve never touched before. Lando feels like its fine only when he does it.
A gentle tug on his arm averts his attention elsewhere. Natalie, or whatever her name was, looked up at Lando with her big brown eyes. “Do you want to leave?”
Lando’s curls bounced when he shook his head. “No, baby.” You watch as he kisses her head, arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. “You having fun?”
“Mhm,” she grins up at him, noses touching and the image slowly burns into your memory. You feel a spark of something inside of you, something that caused you to be more handsy with Daniel.
The sight of Daniel’s hands grabbing your ass, your arms tracing the outline of his pecs and Daniel grinning down at you with a look only you could get out of a man, made Lando’s blood boil.
The party turned less into a celebration for the race and more of a competition between you and Lando— both of you were trying to see how much the other could take until one of you inevitably had enough.
Lando didn’t seem to be phased at all, instead waiting for the moment you looked his way. His fingers curled around the short brunette’s jaw as he pulled her in, his tongue exploring her vodka flavoured mouth.
You watched them make out, anger and envy filling your system. You felt it pulse through your veins and it stopped the second Daniel spoke. “You might not like this idea, but maybe-”
“Kiss me.”
The australian blinks a few times, as if to try and make sense of what you just said. “What?”
“When Lando looks at us, I need you to kiss me.” You explained, arms wrapping around Daniel’s warm neck. You saw the blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Friends kiss, don’t they?”
“I mean, yeah.” He shrugs, an awkward grin decorating his pretty lips. “Sure.”
The song changes and you start dancing again, untangling yourself from Daniel and letting your own hands travel your body and raise your dress slightly, ass facing Daniel as he tries his best not to look at you too much.
But he couldn’t help it. His eyes seemed to be drawn to your figure, hands glued to your hips as you grinded on him again, back against his chest and faces inches apart. Daniel wasn’t even sure if Lando was looking, but he kissed you anyway.
His whiskey flavoured lips perfectly matched the taste of the margarita on yours, tongues fighting a battle neither of you will win. The kiss felt like something new, something you’ve never felt before and want to feel again, and again, and again.
To your luck, Lando was looking. He wasn’t just looking— he was burning holes into the back of your head with the intense stare he had on the image in front of him— his ex-teammate kissing his fucking girl.
Lando wouldn’t have that.
The brunette girl he was making out with earlier stands confused as her date peels himself away from her, making his way to the middle of the dance floor.
Daniel feels the warmth of your breath being torn away and the last thing he sees is Lando’s tight grip on your waist and your body following him into the bathroom.
The slam of the bathroom door is loud enough to scare whoever might’ve been in the neighbouring room.
You didn’t have enough time to comprehend what happened until you see Lando’s hungry eyes trailing your face.
“Hey, Lando.” A teasing smirk plays on your lips as you button up the third button on his shirt. “Button up, you look like a whore.”
The alcohol was obviously still twirling in your brain, but Lando didn’t care. “You’re one to talk, princess.”
You shrug. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”
“Oh yeah?” Lando stares at you, a fire so bright in his eyes that it burns you before he’s even touched you. “I’m sure you know exactly what I’m fucking talking about.”
The anger in his tone made you melt. You felt how much your teasing had rubbed off on him and the thought of him letting his anger out on you made you excited.
The bathroom door lock snaps when Lando’s fingers turn it, and the anticipation burns in your chest. It doesn’t take long for him to kiss you, lips attacking your mouth in a way you’ve never felt before.
Lando brings his hands to your hips, pulling you to sit on the edge of the marble countertop next to the sink. He traces his tongue along your jaw and neck, finding all the sensitive spots he had already memorised.
A loud whimper leaves your lips when he bites the skin of your collarbone, the tender skin turning red and teeth marks indenting it. Lando laps at the skin, groaning against it as if the taste of you was pleasure to him.
Lando slipped the straps of your little black dress off your shoulders, revealing your bare chest. He didn’t hesitate, tongue finding your left nipple and twirling around it.
“You lose yourself, darling.” He growls against your skin, pushing you further against the cabinet as your thighs dig into the edge of it. “Every time I’m not there to control you, you misbehave.”
“Mmm,” you groan as his hand wraps around your neck, softly applying pressure with his fingertips. You feel the air softly escape your lungs and the exhale is slow when you say, “misbehave?”
Lando bites back what he initially wants to say, a smirk decorating his soft lips when he notices the glimmer of lust in your eyes. “Little sluts like you never know when they misbehave, hm? Rubbing yourself all over my ex-teammate, kissing him… You thought I wouldn’t do anything about it?”
“I knew you would,” you smile, canines shining in the white glow of the bathroom lights. “I wanted you to.”
Lando narrows his eyes at you. “Is that so, pretty girl?” His fingers curl around your neck tighter, air hitching in your throat.
With one swift move, Lando pulls you off the cabinet and turns you around to face the mirror on the wall. It’s big enough that you can see your entire body and Lando standing behind you.
You’re too focused on the hunger in Lando’s eyes to notice him practically tearing your dress upwards, pulling your drenched panties to the side and slipping himself into you with ease.
“So fucking wet,” he moans, fingers digging into your hips so painfully that it feels good. “Was it me or was it Daniel that got you this wet, baby?”
A quiet moan leaves your lips as he stretches you out. You’d answer truthfully, but it’s too much fun seeing Lando so worked up knowing damn well he’s the only one who gets you soaked like this. “Mmh, fuck.”
“What was that?”
“He,” you huff, hissing when he slams into you a bit rougher this time. “Daniel got me, fuck,” the words get caught in your throat when Lando’s palm makes contact with your bare asscheek.
“Stop fucking lying to me.” He says through gritted teeth. “I know he can’t make you feel the same way I can.”
You hate that he’s right.
As fun as Daniel was, he could never have you be a whimpering mess underneath him. You’re sure he’s great and you know any woman that ends up with him will be lucky, but it won’t be you.
Lando pulls you back into the moment with a tug on the fistfull of your hair in his palm. “Look at me when I speak to you, darling.” Your eyes lock onto him in the reflection of the mirror. “Good girl.”
A weird feeling settles in your belly when he says that phrase. He’s never used it for you before and you realise you fucking love it. The grin on your face and half-lidded eyes show it, too.
Your head drops down onto the cabinet as Lando grips your hips again, pulling you into him as he basks in the melodical moans coming from your pretty lips.
“Look at yourself,” his veiny hand wraps around your neck and fingers dig into the base of your jaw, lifting your head up to face the mirror. “Such a fucking slut.”
Lando’s still pounding into you when the door handle twists and someone tries to get in.
The skin-to-skin noise doesn’t stop as Lando shouts. “Occupied!” all while his hand covers your mouth. He’s purposefully digging his cock deep into your pussy, trying to fish out any loud noise he can get.
You’re drooling all over his fingers when your mouth parts and he slips two of them past your lips. Lando can feel your high approaching and he fucks deeper into you, surprising you with an orgasm.
You half expected him to leave you without one, but the pleasure washes over you as you moan his name. “Fuck, Lando!” He’s groaning when your walls close around him, and he’s spilling into you, his warm cum burning you from the inside.
Before you can even open your eyes, Lando’s flipping you around and pulling you off the cabinet. Your legs give out and Lando’s hands wrap around your waist before you fall to your knees, instead bringing you down slowly.
You look up at him, lashes fluttering as he pumps his cock a couple times. “Open your mouth, doll.”
Lucky you, not only did your pussy get filled to the brim and graciously given an orgasm, you get to feel his veins burn into the back of your throat, too.
Your soft lips part, closer to the base of his cock. As hot as it was the first time you did this, and the numerous times after, Lando wasn’t in the mood for any teasing.
“I told you to open your mouth, not to lick my dick and act as if you’re not desperate to have me down your throat.”
That statement alone was enough to make you open your mouth, greedily taking his whole cock down your throat.
You’re lucky the club was blasting music, perfectly drowning out your moans and whimpering as your nose brushed against Lando’s pubes.
Lando’s known for being loud, so his moans were probably heard from the hallway. For some odd reason, that turned you on.
His dick dug into your throat and you felt your eyes prick with tears, whimpers bouncing off his shaft and struggling to get past your lips. With basically no warning, Lando’s dick twitched and warm liquid ran down your throat. And you swallowed it without a word from Lando.
Lando wipes your bottom lip with his thumb. “Get up.”
You do as told, fixing the edge of your dress to lay flat against your thighs. You’re hiding yourself from him as if he wasn’t just in you a few minutes ago.
Lando buckles his belt up and watches as you look at yourself in the mirror. Your fingers softly dab at your face and you try your best to fix the mascara that runs down your cheeks.
His warm arms wrap around your waist and his face finds your neck. “You’re beautiful.”
“Did you just leave the girl by herself?” You ask, looking at him in the reflection of the mirror.
Lando shrugs behind you. “I’m sure she found her way home, or at least some company.”
“You’re a dickhead, Norris.”
“And you love it.”
The playful grin on his lips caused you to break out in a smile.
Lando follows you out of the bathroom, hand tightly wrapped around yours, fingers intertwined. Daniel’s eyes meet you across the club and he feels his heart sink to his feet at the sight of Lando so closely entwined with you.
“Hey,” the aussie says to you when you walk up to the table you two sat at. He’s accompanied by Charles and Max, who look at you with warm and welcoming smiles. “You okay?”
“Mhm,” you smile at him and place your knee on the seat next to his thigh. You lean over him, completely unaware that your dress rides up and shows the smallest bit of your ass. Daniel softly tugs the dress down so it covers you up as you grab what you need. “Forgot my handbag.”
The men at the table watch you walk away, hips swaying like they usually do, and Lando’s arm wraps around your waist again as he leads you out the club.
Through blurred vision and quiet laughs, you somehow make it back to the hotel. As if it’s a habit, you made a beeline to Lando’s hotel room as soon as the elevator door opened.
Lando watched as you grabbed his keycard and swiped it to open the room.
When the light turned on, Lando’s messy hotel room came into your blurry sight. It was neatly messy, some clothes in piles and his perfumes and skincare scattered across the coffee table.
A snort slipped past your lips when you saw Dior Sauvage amongst the many tubes and bottles. Of course he’d use sauvage.
You feel warm arms slip around your waist for the nth time this night and you lean back into his embrace. The smell of his cologne mixed with the alcohol lingering on him made your head dizzy. Lando’s lips find your neck and he softly kisses you, leaving a trail of love filled pecks down your shoulder.
“Lando?”
He holds his movements for a moment. “Yes, baby?”
“What is this?” You ask, voice trailing. The item in your hands is something that is so oddly familiar, yet you can’t put your finger on it.
Lando takes the keychain from your hands, fingers smoothing over the yellowing plastic. It’s pretty old, considering he got it when he was still in karting. “It’s the keychain you gave me. When we were like… Eight? After you sabotaged my race.”
At the mention of your karting days, your stomach turns. The memories of how disgustingly you had treated each other flood your brain and you don’t even hide the goosebumps infecting your skin.
Lando’s fingers softly wrap around your wrist and he turns you to face him before pulling you into his chest. The smell of his cologne mixes with the air as you inhale him deeply, trying to cling onto the feeling of comfort you can’t seem to ever hold onto.
For some reason, that tinge of guilt overtook any other emotion in your body and you felt your limbs grow flaccid at the mere thought of your past, and future, with Lando.
The hues in his eyes slowly disappear as he blinks. “You okay?”
“Tired.” The lie slips past your lips so easily, but it’s simpler to lie than to admit that your mind is going at a million miles an hour with thoughts of what you might never be.
Lando’s gentle hands tour your body and he carefully undoes your zipper, slipping the dress off your delicate skin with his fingertips trailing behind. You’re standing in front of him, and even though he’s already seen every part of you, you feel bare. Raw. Exposed.
It doesn’t take an idiot to notice when you’re off, but Lando felt it coming even before you two got to the hotel.
“Here,” he hands you a t-shirt and you nod your head as a thank you. Yet even before you begin putting the shirt on, Lando takes it from your hands again. “Let me help.”
Your curious eyes watch as he pulls the shirt open from the bottom and his eyes lock onto yours, “arms up,” he mumbles and you obey. He tugs the shirt over your head, the smell of his detergent stilling in your sinuses and making you dizzier than you already were.
Warm fingers softly cup your cheek and you lean into the touch, as his other hand fixes the hair that falls on your face. Lando doesn’t talk, you don’t need him to, instead he gently leads you to the bed and lifts the sheets up as you get in.
Your gaze follows his figure as he walks around to the other side of the bed and sits down at the foot of it. An annoyed grumble leaves his mouth as he fumbles with the buttons, but gives up when he can’t manage to undo them. The muscles on his back flex as he raises his arms to tug off the shirt, and not an inch of his skin goes unnoticed by your gaze.
You connect the dots on his back and draw constellations from them, far more beautiful than the ones you’ve observed in the night sky.
He lays his curls down on the soft pillow, facing you and his hazel eyes carefully study your face. Lando forced himself to stay on his side of the bed, despite every cell in his body practically begging to touch you.
“Come closer.” You whisper and he scoots over even before the words fully leave your mouth. You feel his arms gently wrap around your waist as he pulls you in with your back to his bare chest.
When his lips press against your neck, then your collarbone, and then your shoulder, you expect him to slip his hands into your underwear, how he would every single night you’d end up like this. Your legs subconsciously move apart as you push yourself onto your back.
Lando doesn’t do what you expected him to, though. He continues placing gentle kisses on your shoulder, not moving any closer to your chest and his hands still wrapped around you. “Not tonight, baby.” He mumbles against your skin, the warmth of his breath causing goosebumps on your skin.
“Why not?”
Lando pulls away looking at you. “That's all we do.”
You feel a certain warmth in your belly and a piercing feeling in your chest. “Yeah.”
He lays back down, curls bouncing as he lays down more comfortably. You notice his green, piercing gaze softly studying your face as you look up at the ceiling. Lando knows something’s wrong. Nothing’s been right since he left you and Carlos’ home.
“Can we watch something?” You ask, eyes examining Lando’s face before he softly nods and reaches for the remote. The TV turns on to some random rom-com, and that’s what you settle on watching.
It’s one of the most clichè movies you’ve watched, and you can’t help but let a small smile decorate your face. Your eyes were on the screen, and Lando’s eyes were on you.
He adored the curve of your nose, the shape of your lips, the lashes that sat atop your gorgeous eyes. Lando’s been trying to ignore the feelings growing in his heart, but seeing you this close, being able to just watch you, he decides not to.
“Do you remember the first time we kissed?” Lando’s low and gravelly voice tickles your ears. You turn your head a little towards him, watching how his eyes flickered with something close to what you felt.
“Like, at my house?” You ask, a bit confused by his sudden question. “What about it, Lan?”
He quickly shakes his head. “No, the very first time, when we were sixteen.”
As the words leave his lips, you notice the familiar look of anxiety on his face. The same look he gave you right before his lips touched yours, in that parking lot you soon found to be your favourite place.
That race was proven to be the worst of both of you’s careers— high speed corners, oversteer, crash.
You remember the anticipation of a race weekend brewing in your stomach, hands shaking and heart palpitating as you got into your race car. Lando was right ahead of you, his helmet bright as he got into his own car.
The race started as every other one, you felt confident and proud to have gotten this far. The corners were easy enough to turn, the car felt smooth and you had no doubt you’d land a podium that day or maybe even win the race.
The mind of a sixteen year old girl is more naive and confident than anyone else.
You felt the excitement in your chest as the next corner was easy enough to turn, and it’d let you be even further ahead of your teammate. But, as if it was on purpose, Lando’s car rear ended yours and both of you spun out.
Lando never felt such embarrassment and guilt, especially when he saw you get out of the car with clenched fists and angry strides.
You’re not sure what happened after that, but you remember ditching the briefing with your team after saying you felt ill and hiding in the parking lot, behind a car parked next to the curb.
The humming of the approaching evening managed to calm you down. You felt cold, reminding you that you can, in fact, feel and you’re not just a machine that’s expected to do amazing all the time.
Your silence was interrupted, because even if you were on the other side of the world, Lando would somehow find you.
“Want some?” He appeared from behind the car and startled you, a bottle of champagne in hand.
Your eyebrows furrowed. “How’d you get that?”
The brunet simply shrugged and sat down beside you, taking a large gulp of the champagne before handing it to you. You didn’t hesitate to take it and chug some.
“Listen, I’m sorry-“
“It’s fine.” You shut his apology down. “I wouldn’t have won anyway.”
Lando shook his head, clearly dismissing whatever you just said. “You’re stupid if you think that.”
“Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes and take another swing of the champagne bottle. “Did you only come here to apologise?”
Lando shrugged. “Kinda, yeah.” You couldn’t help but laugh slightly at his expression. “I honestly feel bad, you would have definitely won today if I didn’t fuck up.”
“I heard it was a car issue.” You looked at him for the first time that evening. He looked genuinely upset, which was unusual behaviour for him, especially when it was something to do with you.
“Yeah,” he looked up at the darkening sky. “I could’ve reported it earlier, but I thought I could get in a few more laps before doing that.”
A laugh escaped your lips before you’d thought to catch it. “Was it that or did you plan to sabotage my race? As some sort of revenge, or something.”
“No,” he admits, looking back to the ground. He was nervous and scared, and wasn’t in the mood to tease you. “I wouldn’t do that. Not to you.”
Your curious and confused eyes met his. “What?” Your voice cracked and some form of anger laced your words. “Last time I checked, you fucking hated me.”
“I could never hate you, Y/N.”
“That’s bullshit, you’ve only ever tried to sabotage my races and you’ve been a dick to me for as long as I’ve known you.”
Lando sighs, not sure how to convince you or explain what he means. “I don’t know what changed, but I’m not like that anymore. I’ve tried to be nice to you, but you never take it seriously and you act mean instead of accepting it.”
“Are you trying to make me pity you so I forgive you for that stunt you pulled today?” You huff, a disappointed laugh leaving your lips. “You’re unbelievable, Norris. Don’t act like you actually like m-“
That’s when he kissed you.
You felt his breath brushing against your skin as his lips crashed against yours, chapped and rough, but it felt just right.
For a minute or two, you didn’t pull away. You let him kiss you and you kissed him back, and it was exactly what you needed. It wasn’t the champagne swirling in your tummy that made you all warm inside, but instead the soft touch of his fingers to your jaw.
It’s almost like it snapped you into reality.
You pulled away and scooted further from him, watching him with widened eyes. “What the fuck…”
“I’m not acting.” Is all Lando said, before he got up and left you alone, on the curb, just like he found you ten minutes before.
You felt awful for how you handled it, because after his confession, he went back to being cold and mean to you. He wouldn’t utter a word your way unless he absolutely had to, and the teasing remarks were gone.
It all changed from then, until about three years after, when both of you got into Formula One.
You blink and look back at Lando, the memory replaying in your mind multiple times as you nod. “Yeah, I remember it, why?”
“I did mean it.” He hums, fingers softly tugging a piece of your hair behind your ear after you’d turned around to face him. “I liked you back then. I was an idiot for not telling you.”
“Lando-“
“Let me talk, baby.” Lando’s green eyes reassure you and you urge him to speak.
“I was sixteen and stupid, and not persistent in getting what I wanted. I shut those feelings down until pretty recently, when I realised that I never really hated you. I was intrigued and interested.”
He takes a pause, mind sorting through the plethora of thoughts circling his mind in that moment.
“I’ve been yours since I kissed you.” You felt his words weigh on your chest. And you’re not sure if you can trust him.
“Then why did you do that? You can’t imagine how awful it felt seeing pictures of you and all those girls, while I laid in my bed and waited for you to call me and repeat the same routine.”
“I don’t know.” He admits, sounding as genuine as he is. “I was trying to ignore the feelings, in fear of rejection again, even though I knew I had you.”
“Yeah.” You agreed, not sure what to say. It feels awkward talking your feelings out with him, since you’ve never really done that before.
“It’s always been you.” Your eyes find his face again when he speaks. “Even though you hated me, it’s always been you.”
A small, bittersweet grin spread across your cheeks. “I used to hate you with everything I had in me.”
“I know.” It pains Lando to hear it, but he needed the reminder that the mutual hate you two have gone through for him to have you in his arms right now was too much to lose. He can’t risk that. “I felt it.”
“I’m sorry. About everything.” Lando felt the sincerity in your voice as you spoke. It’s the first time he’s actually hearing you speak about your feelings and he’s scared. He’s not sure if it’s the fear of rejection or the fear of losing you, but it shakes him to his core and he’s not sure how to handle it.
“It’s okay.” He says, eyes glimmering with a mixture of anxiety and desperation in them. “Get some sleep, we have a flight tomorrow.”
You nod softly, turning on your side but still facing him. There’s no amount of words you could say to him that would fully explain what’s exactly going on in your mind. It’s running at the speed of light with thoughts, and you can’t seem to grab ahold of a single one.
Lando lays on his back, shutting the TV off and placing the remote on the nightstand. You heard his quick breath as he moved closer to you, scooping you up and pulling you into his chest.
The warmth of his chest soothed you to sleep. Lando listened to your breathing, waiting for it to slow down and the exact moment when you’d fall to slumber.
His own mind was going haywire. There was so much he just said, still dodging the direct confession, and he cursed himself for it. He could have just told you instead of bringing up the worst night you two had ever experienced. Idiot.
Your face nuzzled further into his skin and he felt your arms snake around his torso, taking ahold of the beating drum in the middle of his chest. He was sure you could hear the rapid heartbeat shaking him, and you could.
The warmth and sound of his heartbeat lulled you to sleep faster than any other sound. When Lando was sure you had fallen asleep, he softly played with your hair. It’ll be a while before he can say this to you when you’re awake, and you won’t hear it now, but he says it anyway.
“I love you.”
It takes a moment for you to recollect yourself, the act of falling asleep that you’ve perfected since childhood finally coming to play. You bit back a small grin, ignoring the pitter patter in your own chest.
Lando felt uneasy when you shifted your position, lying on your stomach and partially on him, lips so close to his neck.
You placed a gentle kiss on his collarbone, eyes closed and breath steady.
“I love you, too.”
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🖇️ taglist for this fic: @lifesass @sltwins @ln4norizz @mybluesoul1 @landoslover
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tetsuskei · 1 month
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dew mornings and the bond of eternity – tartaglia [nsfw]
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synopsis: your angel of a boyfriend makes sure that you know just how well loved you are
notes: for my favorite harbinger, idk what this is but breaking my fic virginity for him with this :]
warnings: fem!reader, reader is insecure, russian pet names, mating press, childe has a foul mouth, biting and marking, slight possession, praise, childe is called by his real name, slight oral fixation, implied oral (female receiving), he is extremely lovesick
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you never learned to what extent someone could go when being attentive and observant until you met your boyfriend.
you hate how ajax is able to notice the slightest changes in your mood. you would say he knows you like the back of his hand, but it’s something more than that. almost like the two of you are fused at the souls. bonded for eternity.
so in the dew morning hours when you’re just a little bit quieter, a little more somber as he makes you both breakfast on one of his rare days off, he’s able to notice right away.
he notices your eyes don’t quite catch his own as he jokes about some silly thing one of his siblings did weeks ago, how your smile falters instead of shining bright the way that he loves to see, how you pick at your fingers and gnaw on your lip in thought.
“ptichka?” he hovers over you, taking your face in his hands and pulling you from your thoughts. his cerulean eyes scan you thoroughly. “did you not sleep well?”
“it’s nothing, it was just a silly little dream.” you wave off, smiling weakly. not a lie, technically.
ajax clicks his tongue. stubbornly, he leans into you, the smell of pine and mint following him. “it can’t be silly if it has you upset like this and you’re losing sleep.”
there is no way of lying to ajax. you know this well. he’s a big brother to three siblings, and he’s too good of a detective to be deceived. but that’s to be expected of a harbinger.
after a long, apprehensive pause, you sigh.
“…i had a dream that you cheated on me.” you confess, lowering your gaze to the floor. “and that you left me for someone better.”
it’s stupid. absolutely and utterly ridiculous. ajax has shown you enough love to spill over into your next life. and the next one after that. you could die and come back a thousand times, and there’d still be traces of him left on you. so to tell him this brings you great shame.
the question is, what caused the dream? guilt? shame? maybe you feel he does so much for you, that you’re lacking as a partner. that you could do better.
you wait silently for him to yell, for some sort of outburst to come. but you’re only met with surprise when you feel his hand on your chin.
“can you please look at me?” his voice is soft, and eyes softer as he finally is able to make eye contact with you. he’s so gentle. warm. he only looks at you with love and patience. “thank you, lisichka.”
“i may not have done anything wrong, and i would never cheat—“ he continues with a stern expression, “but i still need you to understand where my feelings lie with you.”
you start to shake your head, “i already know, ‘jax, you have never made me feel like i need to doubt you. i know how much you love me. i promise. i have no idea why i had the dream…but it just made me sad when i woke up.”
you don’t mean to lie about your hidden insecurities, but it’s not a conversation you want to have at the moment. you’d rather just enjoy the time you have currently with your boyfriend peacefully.
luckily, ajax overlooks your fib. he hums, kissing your temple, “how about after we eat, i run us a bath? and we do one of those face masks that you like? something to decompress.”
and for the first time today you smile and agree.
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unfortunately it appears ajax is taking your earlier sentiments much more seriously than you thought.
as all dreams and nightmares are short term memory, you long forgot about what it was that made you upset, back to your usual self after the bath.
ajax swaddled you up in a clean towel, and just like he said, did face masks with you. it always makes you giggle seeing your boyfriend using one of your spa headbands to push his hair back. soon both your faces were shiny and clean. refreshed and replenished, you felt brand new.
but little did you know you were now in the jaws of a shark.
you didn’t make it to the bedroom. well, you did, but you didn’t pick up on the ginger’s ulterior motive the minute he kissed your cheek as you sat on the bathroom counter. he carried you to the bedroom, and that’s where it all fell apart.
“‘j-jax—“ you hiccup, gripping tightly onto his bicep. your figure is trembling against his, skin damp with sweat and glued impossibly closer to his.
so much for the bath.
“s-slow down…”
your boyfriend has been at it for awhile now, pummeling your poor insides with his fat cock over and over. the room reeks with the smell of sex, wet sounds imprinted into your mind. you can never forget just how great he makes you feel.
“no,” he huffs, fingers digging into your hips, “you’re not leaving this bed until i’m sure of it.”
confusion resides in you. what exactly is ‘it’?
he’s already worshipped you plenty with just his fingers and tongue. but you don’t dare challenge the primal look in his eyes. he’s absolutely greedy, not even letting you move to take care of him in return in anyway.
you yelp once feeling your lover’s teeth nip into your skin. his tongue laves over the offended area before he kisses the skin.
“how could i find someone better, when there’s not a single person more beautiful or amazing than you?” he pants, pulling away to look at you. his thumb traces your cheek tenderly and his cobalt eyes are trained on your fucked out expression.
“especially when your pussy feels this good? that’s just a bonus.” he rambles, groaning. his hips knock into yours more harshly and you wail.
“you’d have to kill me to separate us.” he admits darkly, but something tells you that even death wouldn’t stop him.
“‘dun want that, want you forever.” you say, clinging impossibly tighter to him.
ajax coos, kissing your nose, “and you have me. because you’re enough. you always will be. you’re perfect.”
his answer satisfies you and you’re kissing him again, nearly having tears permeate at the ducts of your eyes.
he laughs, grinning against you mouth, “milaya, you’re about to cum, aren’t you?”
“i-i” your words still fail to completely return to you but you nod rapidly.
understanding, he taps your bottom lip.
“open,” he commands.
falling in line, ajax pushes his fingers in your mouth. you feel your face heat up from how you taste yourself on him.
“good girl,” he praises, “always so sweet for me, hmm?”
you’re drooling on him, nodding and humming around his fingers with a hazy look in your eyes.
there’s a certain light in his own eyes that only appears when he’s with you, and with the way he is looking at you with complete adoration, you feel absolutely special.
“oh, look how much you’re quivering, you’re almost there. come on.” your boyfriend studies your movements, fucking you with slower, deeper thrusts.
the breath from your lungs nearly escapes you, and you feel a burning feeling in your chest. you’re creaming so much on him that it’s impossible not to hear the lewd noises coming from between your legs.
every sound seems to drive the ginger crazier. “one more, just one more for me, angel and i’ll let you be.” he coaxes, fingers moving again.
“i’m…i’m tired.” you sniff.
“i know, but you look so pretty when you cum. just one more? pretty please? can’t get over how you look. so beautiful…”
his constant praise is enough to make you cum once more, so hard that it blinds you. your mouth falls open in silent awe.
ajax groans, watching you come undone and hissing at the way you’re clamping up on his cock. it should be a crime how good you feel, because he could ever get enough of it.
there’s only a moment before he remembers he still needs to cum, and then he’s pawing and begging.
“fuck, let me cum in you…please…” his face is buried in your neck and a small whimper escapes him once he grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together.
he’s shivering and hot, and his cock is extremely sensitive. every drag of himself against your walls drives him insane. he’s dizzy, nearly delirious with how much he’s holding back.
“wanna fill you up so badly, please lisichka.” he continues, pressing searing kisses to your shoulder. “want you leaking with all of my cum…want all of it in you.”
you don’t think he’s looking at you while he babbles and pleads to breed you, and you shiver at how predatory he looks at your lower abdomen. you lock your legs tighter around him, ignoring the overstimulation creeping up in you.
“yes, ajax. please. w-want all your cum. want you to fill me up!” you whine, a sound that makes his heart and cock swell all at the same time.
your next words startle him even further.
“i love you.”
and he snaps.
“hah—ah, fuck!” ajax curses, hips stuttering in their pace. he groans loudly, feeling himself spill into you. there’s spots in his vision from how hard he’s cumming and he wonders if this is what celestia is.
you gasp, jerking when warmth spreads throughout all of you. you can feel the throbbing of your boyfriends cock and his heavy load.
coming down from both of your highs, the two of you laugh.
“you surprise me every time.” you tease quietly, eyeing a bite mark on your thigh.
the ginger looks bashful, hiding his face in your shoulder. “sorry…didn’t mean to be so rough…”
“if i wanted you to stop at anytime, i would’ve told you.” you reassure, petting his head.
he plants a kiss on your skin. “good. and for the record, i love you too.” he murmurs. “feel better?”
“i felt better after the delicious breakfast you made, but you took it a couple of steps further like you always do.” you giggle, leaning into his chest.
ajax grins, kissing the crown of your head, “well, i could tell something else was on your mind, but you weren’t telling me.”
“you know me way too well. it’s terrifying.”
he puffs his chest out, “what can i say? i can and will only provide the absolute best for you.”
“i don’t like leaving you alone for as long as i do…i will try to get them to let me take work closer to home.” he adds, playing with your fingers.
and the beam on your face is all worth it. “really?”
“really. i’m not around a lot for you to do things for me, and i get why you may feel that you need to be better. but i adore you just how you are. i’m sorry for not being more present.”
“it’s okay, i understand.” you hum, kissing his chin.
ajax hums with appreciation before leaning down and chasing your lips, hungrily wanting to taste you all over again.
his demanding presence has you melting into him as you mesh together, tongues locking to consume the taste of yourselves.
suddenly he’s dragging you by the hips to the edge of the bed.
“w-what are you—“
“m’not done with you. far from it.” you barely can form another question before ajax is sliding back into you. a crude squelch follows.
the harbinger kisses your bare ring finger. “say, i think we should elope. what do you think about starting a family?”
key: ptichka = ‘little bird’, lisichka = ‘little fox’, milaya = ‘my dear’
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crimsonblackrose · 2 years
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Was lured into a bath and body works by a free item no strings attached coupon, and then proceeded to not leave because their Halloween stuff is out, and now,  the smell of bath and body works is just a part of me now. I will never know peace. The shirt I bought at a different store also smells like it. This is my life now. A cacophony of intense smells.
#mumblings#I went to return a shirt and thought I'd see if they had one in the right size#they didn't#so I found a different shirt that was cute and was Halloween and was like it's the same style so it should the same price#and it was not#but at that point I had already bothered the same staff person 3 times and was like oh no#so I have a nice halloween shirt that was more expensive than I expected but too cheap to use any of my coupons on#and then because we were there and I had a coupon for a free little bottle of hand sanitizer I thought why not#and I left with six containers of shower steamers because they were on sale and my aunt decided she'd try them and buy them#so technically they're hers but for the house#and I definently spent way too long staring at the Halloween stuff#like they have a light wallflower that is a pale hand holding an apple and it shows a skull#and my halloween loving bird brain (oooh shiny) wanted it#but they're like $20 and don't include the actual sent things#so I was good#but that was long enough to just reek of bath and body works#like for the life of me I cannot even tell what smell is strongest it's just generic#like lush you go in and you smell things and it's like ah yes there's this overpowering sweet scent that lingers#and this I can't even tell you if its sweet or what#it's not awful but I will not know peace until I shower#i didn't notice until now because I was wearing a mask 🤣#our dog came up and just was like ????? and licked my leg like ???? what is this smell#same bud same
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lazyjellyfish300 · 1 month
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Silent
Miguel O'Hara x Wife reader
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A/N: I attempted a smutty drabble. (Technically it's not a drabble but it's short ish) Word count 719 ish 🖤 Personally, vocal Miguel in bed>>>.
But what if he isn't🤔
TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT(CREAMPIE, P IN V, ORAL M RECEIVING, BREEDING KINK), Miguel is overstimulated after work and prefers to not talk.
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What about Miguel O'Hara who's mostly silent during sex? He's a quiet man at his core. He can command a room when he needs to; his leadership depends on it. He's thoughtful before he speaks. He always just felt it only necessary to talk if what he had to say carried meaning, and only if he had ample time to form his words and craft them properly before he said them aloud. He values substance and he hates being misunderstood. 
Despite his ability to lead and direct, he has a limited social battery. By the time he's alone with you after a long day, he prefers silence as his mind recharges with minimal to no touch. Not that he doesn't value your presence. It took you some time to understand this, but just because he wasn't all over you right away doesn't mean he doesn't love you. 
When he does come around, that precious space of vulnerability you've built with him over time becomes a safe haven you two can escape to together. 
When your head is in his lap, moaning softly for him with your mouth full of his cock. 
It took you a while to become fluent, but despite the lack of words and sounds coming from him, he IS communicating with you. The way he presses his head back against the pillow then swiftly brings it back to hold your gaze, eyes a deep merlot set ablaze by the intoxicating way you're spoiling his cock as he gently rocks his hips, giving your needy mouth what it's begging for. 
When he's on top of you in missionary, you can just tell he's close to spilling all of his hot love inside you when his eyes go half-lidded, those thick brows of his frown as though he's trying to commit everything about this moment and the flawless way he fits inside you to undying memory. 
He melts at the praise you give him, lashes fluttering when you play with his lips, slipping the plush pad of your fingers in his mouth. 
"My pretty boy...so perfect..."
The inside of his mouth is so slick. You knead the inside of his cheek with your thumb as he begins to swirl his tongue around it, your pussy getting wetter around his cock in tandem with the way he's bathing your finger with his warm tongue. 
"So soft..." you moan.
A low hum rumbles from his chest as he gazes down at your divineness. Somehow this night was only getting started but your body was responding like you'd been fucked out for hours. 
He brings his hands to your breasts, drawing lazy circles with his thumbs on the perky buds as he continues to pump you full of his cock. 
He's still quiet but he pants, eager to give his darling wife all the dirty loving she's been craving. Giving you this body that you won't admit you've been aching for. Making it up to you for the nights you ended by yourself. 
Your knuckles nearly shake as you tighten your grip on his hair, the way he's starting to softly grunt is awaking the most primal, the most carnal of desires in your brain. 
His warm sweet breath on your cheeks, the little sounds he is finally giving you have traces of the low baritone of his normal speaking voice. Deliciously masculine. The fleeting drip of raw honey massages your ears, wettening around him even more when you realize you're the cause. 
His hands coast downwards and wrap around your hips, those calloused palms gripping them like his life depends on it as he breeds your wet cunt to its fullest, mouth hanging alluringly open as he leans forward to kiss you. Gently pulsing his softening cock with a few more thrusts to make sure it takes. Beads of his sweat from his forehead transferring onto your own. The smell of sex penetrates the air around your naked bodies, so painfully intimate and raw. 
No, you don't mind if your husband is a little quiet. The whispery "te quiero..." he mumbles back to you into the crook of your neck tucks your heart into a drowsy rhythm next to his, making it all worth it as the moonlight outside cradles you both to much needed sleep.
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 🌜
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princessbrunette · 2 months
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HOLD ME, KISS ME ♡
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♪ the little dippers — forever ♪
WANTED: JOHN BOOKER ROUTLEDGE - SUSPECTED MURDER - $1000 REWARD - DANGEROUS! IF SPOTTED DO NOT APPROACH!
pairing: outlaw!johnb + sheltered!reader ⋆₊⊹♡
synopsis: your wishes come true when a beautiful boy is found sleeping peacefully in your barn. much to his surprise, you don’t care about who he is or what he has or hasn’t done — you just want to ensure he stays forever.
cw: mentions of prayer, religion and god (for plot purpose) reader has two parents, western!au, innocence kink, slight manipulation, mentions of crime, breeding kink, smut ♡
“Please deliver me a man, save me from this loneliness. Make him kind, and strong, and handsome. I vow to make him the happiest man alive.”
Your forehead rests against your clasped hands where you kneel beside your bed, speaking out loud as there was no one else to speak to. Your parents had gone on a trip for two weeks, leaving you in charge of the farmhouse all by your lonesome.
Isolated didn’t feel like the correct term. You were grateful, happy to live off the fat of your father’s land in the middle of nowhere, but sometimes you wished you had someone to share it with. Someone your own age who was there to see you. You had become the perfect host, thrilled when your parents would bring home guests once in a blue moon. You’d tie ribbons in your hair and pick the perfect dress and set the table like your mother taught you. You often imagined setting the table for a family of your own.
Your own farm house. The thought sent you off to sleep each night, walking through the home in your mind as if it were really real, feeling the creaking of the painted wooden porch beneath your feet as you enter, the distant cooing of your baby being comforted by your husband in the next room. White shabby-chic panels across the walls with oak furniture and knitted throw pillows and lots and lots of warm light. The kitchen table would have the perfect lace floral embroidered table cloth draped across it which you’d serve the heartiest dinners on each night. The babies room would be painted mint green, no— maybe pastel yellow, with handmade toys and a music box that played your song and oh, the master bedroom… where you and your husband rest your head would be flooded with natural light. A haven. All yours.
The details to the decoration often changed, new inspiration plucked from the papers that father would bring home and new favourite colours integrating themselves into your home plans but one thing remained the same each time. Your husband. He never had a face, but it wasn’t important. He was warm, strong without having to prove just how macho he was, kind— you could feel his love from the next room on. That was all you really wanted. You could forget the house, forget the land, live in a barn for all you care — you just wanted to experience a love like the ones in the fairytale books stacked high in your room.
It had been a week already of this routine you’d grown used to. You wake up, feed yourself and then the chickens, come inside, clean yourself and then the house, paint, crotchet or read — however the mood takes you, eat lunch, tend to the crops, brush the horses, maybe milk a cow, come inside and cook dinner, bathe, think about your dream husband and grind your wet messy cunt into a pillow, feel guilty, beg for forgiveness and then sleep. It was an easy life, and you couldn’t complain— but you couldn’t help feel the world had more to offer.
Your mother often told you that gifts from above come when you least expect it, you just had to keep your eyes open. You always wondered how one might find these gifts with no idea where to look.
Your gift arrived bright and early the next morning.
Well, not technically as early as it should have been, infact you probably nearly missed it. The roosters calls at 6AM each morning, but on that very day you had decided to sleep in. A few hours wouldn’t kill them, you think as you pull a plush white pillow to lay over your ear— it’s not like the chickens would starve.
At 11:45AM, you stumble bare foot onto the grass outside, setting out on your walk to the barn a little way up the land. Your pert nipples harden, awakened by the cool morning breeze as the thin white fabric of your nightdress blows in the wind. With the sunlight shining directly on it, it was sure to be totally and utterly see through— and you suppose that was one upside to living in the middle of nowhere, yards upon yards from civilisation. No one would see you. Sigh.
You feed the chickens, totally blind before it even occurs to you that anything might be astray. Infact, you don’t even seem to notice that the barn door was left ajar, as opposed to how you usually leave it bolted by a wooden slab to prevent the animals from wandering off or being massacred by foxes. You suppose that’s the price you pay for sleeping in, you live in dreamworld for the next few hours.
The Earth seems to stop turning for a moment when you see him.
You’re more curious than anything, wide eyed, holding your breath as to be totally silent despite having been humming and speaking to the chickens only a moment prior. You tiptoe through the hay, shards of straw sprouting between your painted toes and pin-needling your sole as you draw closer to the man. A fallen angel, your first thought.
He’s half curled up onto his side in the hay behind the stable for your white pony. He has thick-ish arms crossed over his chest, his hat laying over his face seeming to be serving as a purpose to block out the light. You figure as you hadn’t woken up him before, a closer inspection couldn’t hurt. Unhurriedly, you sink down into a squat beside him, knees pointed upwards and feet taking your balance. A real man, in your barn? It couldn’t be. You chew on your bottom lip, goggle-eyed and inquisitive as you cautiously lift the hat away from his face.
He doesn’t wake and you’re for some reason thankful. It gives you time to observe him, the breath all but knocked from your body as you take in just how beautiful he is. He was perfect, and just like what you were hoping for when you wished to be delivered a husband.
Dark eyelashes kissing at the rim of his closed eyes, pale lips and freckles, sunkissed across his nose. Your eyes trail over and across him, now with his face in mind taking in account what he looks like as a whole. You were still in disbelief, a real man sleeping in your barn. But then again, as your eyes skim lower and you notice the blood seeping through his shirt over his stomach — you wonder if he was sleeping. Surely he wasn’t dead? Only God could be so cruel to deliver you the perfect man without a pulse.
So, you press two cold fingers to his neck, searching for the rhythmic beats signifying life. As soon as you do so, the man jolts awake — wide brown eyes meeting yours.
“Jesus.”
This is where the stare off commences— you were sat in a squat giving him a straight shot up your night dress with dome like eyes and parted lips, observing him like he was some sort of alien life form that had happened upon your barn infront of your very eyes. Your chest rises and falls, and his gender fails to betray him as his eyes fall there for a moment, subconsciously noticing the way your bare tits strain against the thin fabric with each exhale. Somewhere in the back of his mind he can’t help but acknowledge that you’re a pretty thing, totally his type. In any other scenario, he might’ve seen you at a local tavern and introduced himself, getting you tipsy and loose, making you giggle beneath his soft gaze and coarse hands in some dimly lit booth before realising he’s far too respectful to take advantage of you like that.
With his eyes open, the picture is complete — and he truly is as beautiful as you thought. He had a puppy like quality to his eyes, they were big and brown but from the sunlight streaming in you could see specks of orange which intrigues you. You wish to look closer, but you feel it’s not the time. His adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow and he tears his eyes away from yours to look around, still disorientated from sleep. He touches his wound with gentle fingers and he winces, going to push himself up on his elbows.
You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it, warm deep voice raspy from rest as he dives into a sequence of begging.
“Does anyone know I’m in here?”
“No, I—”
“Okay, that’s— okay, please — hey, please don’t tell anyone. I won’t lie to you, I’m in a little bit of trouble with the law, nothing super bad I swear just — I needed somewhere safe to sleep so I ended up here. Didn’t take anything and uh— and I’ll be out of your hair now that I’m up.” He rambles, continually glancing at the barn doors, expecting Sheriff Shoupe to bust them down and take him in at any moments notice. You say nothing for a moment and he pushes himself to his feet, eyes squeezing shut at the soreness of his injury. “Think it’s easiest if I just—”
He cuts himself off this time, because you slip your hand into his— stopping him from going anywhere. His eyebrows jump up and he freezes on the spot, staring down at your doe eyes with a wide and confused gaze of his own.
“…Hi?”
“You just got here? Why’d you have to go?” You sound sad, and he actually can’t believe what he’s hearing. Not only did he break into your barn, on private land — but he’d totally overstayed his non-existent welcome, and now you didn’t want him to leave?
“P—pardon me? Ma’am?” He tries to be respectful, when what he really wants to ask is along the lines of ‘What the fuck?’.
You scramble to stand up and he helps you using the hand that you’re grasping. “Well, you won’t get far with a wound like that. It could get infected. Maybe you could come inside, let me dress it. You can refuel… maybe stay a few days?” The last part sounds wrong coming from your mouth. He’s a stranger for goodness sake— everything your parents had taught you about safety went against this and plus you were practically begging. You might have been embarrassed, if there wasn’t such a nagging feeling in your stomach telling you that this was meant to be.
He scoffs out a chuckle, because he thinks there’s no way you’re serious— but when he sees your wide eyes bouncing between his own, searching for something he couldn’t quite put a finger on— he realises you’re being completely genuine and his expression melts into a more worried gaze, shuffling a little closer on his feet.
“Look, I really appreciate your hospitality, but you have done more than enough, really. Just the fact you didn’t have the sheriff busting in to drag me away is something I will be very grateful for. Believe me. But I can’t drag you into this. Anyway, don’t you have family? That you live with?”
You sigh, looking down at your intertwined hands that you had yet to release, staring as if you were trying to memorise the feeling of a man’s touch incase you really couldn’t convince him to stay.
“Well yes, but they’re on a trip you see — and they’re going to be away for another week and I’m not sure how much more I can take. I’m awfully lonely, and I know you’re a stranger and all but I could really use the extra set of hands… plus it’s the least you could do… for breaking in…” You feel you’re pushing it with that last part, but decide to proceed with it anyway, any means necessary to get him to stay. He bites his bottom lip in thought as you stare up through your lashes and he thinks screw it. He’s sure you’re not setting him up, a little thing like you would be far too weak to pull that off.
“Okay, I… don’t see why not then.” He doesn’t sound certain, but you make such a good offer he’d be a fool not to accept. He bends down and swoops his hat off the floor, holding it to his chest and you take his hand once more, guiding him out of the barn.
He presses his lips together in an awkward smile at the way you confidently lead him, almost having to break into a jog to match your eager pace. Once nearing the house, you tell him your name and he nods — taking in the scenery.
You’re sitting him down in the living room before he can blink, and he takes in the setting around him. A real cozy place, a family home for sure — with a pale blue couch, a scratchy patchwork blanket draped over the back and floral cushions. There’s photos of you in multiple spots around the room, an only child — he gathers. The main photo sits on the mantelpiece, framed, a set of parents curtaining your smiling face in the image. You seem to be a few years younger, fuller in the face, still cute as a button.
He doesn’t quite realise you’d gone anywhere until you’re returning — the contents of an old first aid box rumbling in your grip. You give him a reassuring smile and lower to kneel by his feet, opening up the container and fishing around for some cotton pads.
“Do you have a name, mister?”
He clears his throat, trying to gage your reaction once he speaks, attempting to work out if the name rings any bells. “Uh, yeah. John B. John B. Routledge. You might’ve… actually heard of me. If you have, uh— I’m sorry.”
You don’t seem to react in any kind of alarming way, a smile grazing your face as you pour rubbing alcohol onto a soft white pad.
“Heard of you how? Are you famous?”
“…You’ve never seen those big ‘Wanted’ posters up in town? Kinda got my picture up on one of them.”
You peel up his shirt revealing tanned, toned skin and a wound that had crusted over with blood. You press the pad to it and he winces, knuckles turning white in his lap and head lulling back against the seat for a moment.
“Sorry.” You furrow your brows apologetically before continuing to mop up all the dried blood. “Oh, and I’m not allowed up in town. Not by myself anyway. So, I don’t keep up to date with all that… stuff.” You pull away, rifling through the box for another clean pad. He nods, eyes jumping to look at his wound and then back to you, watching your face for any discomfort regarding his presence. Oddly, there was none. If it wasn’t clear before, it’s wildly apparent now that you’ve truly been sheltered your whole life. There was this innocence you carried that was hard to come by, a lack of judgement that was sweet but made him worry for you slightly. You were lucky he had a good heart.
“That’s… probably for the best, actually. You know, they like to tell lies. I’m being falsely accused.” He speaks a little slower, and enunciates the last part as if you might not understand, and as expected— you hang onto every word, lips a little parted and wide eyed. It’s pretty cute, albeit inappropriate considering he’s a stranger.
As he speaks, you wrap his wound, pressing the sticky part down onto his skin before gently pressing the cotton covering his injury. “Well I’m really sorry about that John B. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” You chirp, before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss over the dressing, pulling back to offer him a sweet smile. The lines on John B’s forehead smooth out, his concerned expression melting into his own gentle smile of disbelief.
He wonders what the odds are that he’d stumbled upon a real life angel. Well, it was that — or you wanted to chop his body into tiny pieces whilst he slept and add it to your cauldron. He couldn’t quite figure it out yet, but you were pretty — and he was a total loverboy, so stupidly he was willing to take that risk.
He pulls his shirt back down over his now dressed wound and you begin to clear your things back into the first aid box.
“Is there anything I can do for you? Like, anything you need help with around here?” He offers and you look up at him, brows furrowing with adoration.
“Goodness, no— I couldn’t ask that of you.”
“Said you needed an extra pair of hands earlier.” He challenges with a smile.
“I only said that to get you to come inside. With your injury, I couldn’t possibly put you to work.”
He scrunches his face a little with a half scoff, half smile and shrugs one shoulder. “Please, this thing? It barely even stings. Come oooon.” He croons with a smirk, and you really feel the full effects of his charm now— the warm timbre of his voice headed straight to your clit giving it a heartbeat of its own.
“Fine.” It comes out airy with a giddy smile and you take his hand yet again, almost getting distracted by the coarseness against your palm, the sight of bulging veins along the backs of them.
Your bare feet are treading lightly over soft wood chip once more as you lead him toward the destroyed fence round the left side perimeter of the farm.
“So… I suppose you could carry all the planks back from the fence that fell down in that awful storm last week. I was gonna wait for my daddy to get home to get him to do it ‘cus I’m much too weak for something like that.” You point, and John B’s brown fluffy head follows your finger to the destination at hand. He nods, a doable task.
“Well a girl like you shouldn’t be lifting a finger anyway.” He turns his head back to face you with a smile, eyes squinted in the sun. He looks radiant, no sign of pain anymore and you look down at your night gown, scrunching it in your clammy hands with an uncontrollable grin at the floor, harbouring such an innocent crush on the boy already that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.
His gaze stays on you for a tick whilst you step quietly and he speaks up again, tilting his head a little inquisitively. “I really, really hope this doesn’t sound rude… ‘cus I don’t mean to be. But… are you not… married?” He trails off, thinking of all the times he’s been walloped round the head in taverns for asking questions of a similar nature. Your smile doesn’t go away, your gentle nature not retiring for a moment.
“Oh no, no. I don’t meet boys often. Thats why I’m happy you came!” You chirp, hand reaching out to softly squeeze his arm. “Can be like husband and wife whilst you stay round.”
He just laughs in response. Not necessarily in a mean way, but the same way you laugh when a child tells you they’re going to be an astronaut when they grow up.
The brutal beating of the sun does nothing to stop the honest work you’d put the self proclaimed outlaw up to, he seems to be deep in thought often — carrying the planks to and fro. You slip inside for a while to change into something more appropriate, a sweet and floral sundress that ties up at the straps and hugs you in a more womanly way. You’d rubbed your lips together as you fixed your hair in the mirror before bringing him a sandwich in the early afternoon. “You are adorable.” He grins when you do so, and it wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for on your dress but it still made you warm in the face. He simply brought out a true primal bodily reaction from you— that’s why you’d skipped the panties under your dress. He was making you excited and slippery down there and you just didn’t see the point. You stay out for hours at a time to chat with him. Your affections grow.
John B. Routledge finally returns back to the house when he’s all finished and you let him lay down for a nap on your couch, finally getting some real rest in. Whilst he does so, you spend hours preparing a hearty meal — the type you reserve for when mama and papa have guests round. As the pie browns off just a moment longer in the oven, you come to the man’s side, kneeling beside him and stroking his fluffy hair back.
“I made dinner. Sure you’re really hungry.” You whisper and his eyes flutter once more, the arms that were crossed over his chest stretching out as he wakes. You sit back to give him space, and when he opens his eyes you’re there with a smile — the orange beam of sunset haloing your head. Something about an angel drafts through his mind once more and he stretches.
“Oh boy, I slept longer than I was meant to huh?” He sits up and you shrug, leading him through to the kitchen where you’d laid the round table. Steaming seasoned vegetables in a bowl, freshly picked by you. Warm bread, baked and scored by you with flowers the centrepiece of the table. A jug of gravy there too. There’s a tray of mashed potatoes waiting, creamy and delicious looking. Routledges stomach audibly growls and he chuckles at this as he sits down, taking in the scenery you’d laid out. “You… have spoiled me. All this for someone who breaks into your barn?” He chuckles as he lowers himself into the seat.
You follow him round the table with a giddy smile. “Told you I like havin’ guests.” You perch your bottom on his leg, an arm wrapped around his neck as your feet swing. It felt right. You’d always wanted to sit with a man this way, you’d seen it before in the picture shows. Man and wife, domestic bliss. His brows jump up and he clears his throat awkwardly.
“Oh… sweetheart, you shouldn’t do that. I am a— a stranger, after all.” He tries to do the responsible thing, even though there was something about your innocent brashness that was turning him on beyond belief. Your eyebrows knit in the centre, a line between them and your bottom lip seems to have doubled in size from how it pushes out.
“But I like you?” You mewl, rejected. It all seems so simple to you, which is probably feels super unfair. No one had taught you how to address men because you were so sheltered, and now it was giving you all of these complicated feelings that John B would have to deal with.
“And I like you — a whole bunch. You know I’m super grateful for you taking me in and… all that good stuff. But sitting right here is gonna… make me excited. Because I’m a guy. Go ahead and hop off for me.” He taps your lower back gently and you huff, feeling upset and rejected about the whole thing. His eyes are all wide and hopeful as he stares at you, like he wanted to make sure you were okay. The way he handles you so sweetly made your stomach stir despite your current mope.
You drag your feet to the oven comically and he stifles a chuckle at how dramatic you were, despite his sympathy. You place your hands into oven gloves and take out the pie— perfect and golden. You walk it to the table and John B sits up a little straighter, eyes darting between you and the food.
“Did this all by yourself? You have got a real knack for cooking. Should put you on the TV.” He grins, switching on the charm to attempt to loosen up your silent sulk. You nod, eyes casted down childishly and he reaches out to touch your arm. “Thank you, pretty girl.”
A small smile slips out, and he flickers his eyes over to the heart shape you’d scored onto the pie, his own lips twitching up into a smirk. “That for me?”
“Maybe.”
“Hmm.”
You end up giggling, his smile too infectious and your bad moment is all forgotten as you serve him a slice, plating up for him and then yourself before you eat. John B digs in ravenously, it’s almost erotic — the way he’s groaning at how good it all tastes, gravy dripping from his lips as he licks more off his fingers. He was clearly less proper-mannered than you, but you liked that. Table manners were for boring old people anyway. Maybe everything about him got you going, but you had to really concentrate on getting some food inside you instead of just watching the show of eating he was putting on.
Once you’re finished, and he’s finishing up on his third helping — you let your giggles die down from the wild goose chase story he relayed for you, one where he of course wound up the hero which only made your heart beat harder for him. Your socked foot begins to prod at his ankle, sliding up his leg until it rests in his lap. He doesn’t seem to mind, the food having lowered his guard just that bit as he leans back in his chair, undoing his belt. He adjusts his hips on the seat as he does so and your thighs clench.
“So what did you think?” You ask, though you think it’s clear that he liked the meal from the empty plates and unbuckled belt. He lets out a long satisfied sigh, gazing at you for a moment with a kind smile.
“I think, whoever gets to marry you is a lucky son of a bitch.” He presses his lips together, almost like he was disappointed about the idea of you with another. You blink, the hands resting beneath your chin dreamily slowly falling to play with eachother on the table.
“Why not you, John B?” You question sadly, giving him those eyes again. The ones that tug on his heart and made him wanna give you everything and anything you ask for. He lifts a napkin, bringing it to his mouth as he shakes his head dismissively, closing his eyes with a frown.
“Mm—mm.” The tissue fabric muffles the sound. “You don’t wanna marry me, believe me — okay, I’m an outlaw. Your parents would never in a billion years accept me. Anyway you… you deserve someone less rough and tumble, you know? Like a prince from a storybook. A bubblewrap life. Not… whatever this is.” He gestures to himself, more so the browned blood stain on his shirt.
You sigh, determined. “My parents would understand. They’re — they’re generous people.”
“Really? ‘Cus they don’t even let you leave the house.” He quips quickly in response, smirking at your naivety and you fall silent for a moment. His face flattens just a tad from guilt. You were far too soft for that kind of tone.
When you look up at him again, your face is more solemn — wide eyes searching his for a shred of understanding. “You don’t understand, John B. There are actual scary, dangerous men out there that would take me and do terrible things to me.”
The outlaw leans his elbows on the table, his lips stretched into an amused smile at the irony. There wasn’t an inkling of threat about the gesture, pure amusement coursing through the energy between you from his side alone. “And how do you know I’m not one of those scary, dangerous men. Hm?” His voice is warm, it seems to rumble straight from his chest. You release a shaky sigh.
“Well you haven’t hurt me yet?” Your voice lilts out, and you engage in a long stare off. There’s a different kind of tension in the air now, it’s hot and feels heavy on you. It oozes into the nooks and crannies of your balmy skin and slithers between your thighs. You can’t take the heat and you stand, beginning to bring his dishes to the sink to wash. It’s quiet for a while, John B watching you with this thoughtful and almost knowing smile as you tidy up around him. Even he couldn’t run from how good ‘domestic bliss’ felt.
You let yourself indulge in the fantasy too. Wife cleans up, husband sits behind at the table and sips at the drink she poured him. You wanted nothing more than to experience this everyday, and your heart sinks sadly at the fact that this will probably be the last. You lose yourself to thoughts and daydreams as you scrub away, to the point you nearly don’t hear him stand up, slowly walking to lean against the sink beside you.
You smile at him politely as he eyes you, and return your gaze to the plate in your hand. You mustn’t dwell. He moves, and soon he’s behind you, a hand resting against the sink beside your hip, head craning round to look at you from the other side. “You’re really serious about this husband and wife thing, aren’t you?”
“Very serious, sir.” You bat your lashes at him earnestly and his cock stirs in his pants at the title, unexpected but not unwelcomed. Bless your heart, you were only being courteous. He presses his lips together in thought and the side of your face warms with his slow exhale. Turning your body, you face him fully now. “I just think it was divine intervention that you wound up in my barn. You’re like an angel sent to take away my loneliness.” You’re shy, a little bashful about your beliefs and without thinking he cups your cheek in reassurance, thumb swiping slowly over the skin.
His eyes take in your every detail, and your lips part with a wobbly breath, nervous. “May I kiss you, John B?” You address, just as his thumb strokes the delicate skin below your eye. He grins, slightly amused by your formality and simply nods his head.
You stand on tip toes to reach him, socked feet almost knocking at his boots as your body presses to his, lips meeting. You’re a little messy, inexperienced— which comes as no surprise to the boy as he tilts his head, welcoming your mouth at another angle and taking control in order to guide you. You’re mostly a quick learner, slowing your pace to something much more sultry and he nearly can’t contain his excitement. He wants to be a gentleman, but as soon as he introduces his tongue — you lose composure, needy and all but panting into his mouth right then and there in the kitchen. He pulls away and breaks the string of saliva that connects your lips with his thumb, stroking it over your moist bottom lip as you stare at him readily.
He tilts his head, eyes wide and almost innocent as he gestures away. “You… want me to show you what husbands do with their wives?”
You nod so hard your eyes nearly roll back like one of those baby-dolls.
John B is the one to take your hand this time, leading you slowly and carefully through the house. You partially think he’s giving himself time to rethink what he’s about to do, but from the way your pussy is drooling into your panties — it feels set in stone. He finally reaches your bedroom and you watch his head move left and right as he takes it in, cheek lifting with a smile at the China dolls on the wall and the frilly white bedsheets. It’s clear your room hasn’t changed since you were a little girl. The sun is just starting to disappear behind your lace curtains and he switches on the lamp, sitting you down.
The man joins you, easing himself down at your side and cupping your cheek as he begins to kiss you again. He takes it slow, but the passion and need only grows as the splayed hand on your back begins to slide upwards until its cupping the back of your head and he’s beginning to slowly lower you to lie down like you’re made of glass.
Naturally you shuffle up the bed and he follows, hovering over you and leading with his tongue this time — the wet muscles wrapping around eachother languidly making you moan, legs falling wider apart.
“I wanna make you feel really good, okay? That okay with you?” He asks gently and you nod, sucking in a breath. You’d waited for something like this since you knew what pleasure was, craved the touch of a man with strong coarse hands and a wet mouth. Routledges thumbs swipe across your tits through your dress, massaging them until your nipples were poking painfully through the fabric as he burrows into your neck, licking and sucking.
Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as he tugs gently at your dress, eyes meeting yours once more.
“Let’s get this off, yeah?”
He tugs the garment up and over, puffing out his cheeks as he blows air out his mouth, brows raised at the sight of your naked body. You look so soft, so pliable beneath him. He was already hard just from kissing you, but this made him feel like he might combust. “Took your underwear off?” He smirks, pressing kisses to your stomach and between your tits before bringing his face up to eye level with you, same kind but teasing smile on his face. “Have you been needing me aaall day? Hm?”
You turn your head to the side, flustered and clammy with a whine— eyes screwed shut. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Oh, now you’re shy?”
“No, s’just — when you speak like that— n’say stuff like that… makes me hurt…” You’re breathless, hips twitching and bucking slightly as he grins, pearly whites showing.
“Aw.” Is all he manages before continuing his descent down.
He’s a real tease, spending an ungodly amount of time on your tits— sucking, licking and biting your nipples until you’re arched off the bed, teary eyed and wincing from sensitivity. It’s then, and only then he starts to kiss lower, pushing himself down your pristine sheets until he’s settling between your legs, gently easing your ankles upwards so that your knees faced the sky, your cunt fluttering and open right infront of his face.
“Well she’s very pretty.” He smiles up at you, thumbs coming up to spread you. He leans in slowly, hot breath fanning over your heat before he simply presses the softest kiss to your clit. He draws back again as you whimper, running the pads of his thumbs up along your spread folds. “Hear that? So wet, pretty girl.” He marvels in a whisper.
“Just want you to make it better.” You mewl and he nods slowly in understanding, tongue swiping over his lips as he observes you.
“That I can definitely do.” He confirms before leaning in, licking and sucking at your clit as his thumb automatically rolls downwards to massage your hole. You gasp, knees shooting up towards your chest as he eats you, similarly to the pure fervour and passion he only recently devoured the meal you cooked for him. You wondered how any appetite remained.
When he sinks his middle finger inside you, your stomach tenses — a high pitched noise of relief and utter devastation leaving you. You had no idea how badly you’d craved fullness to this very moment, and you weren’t even halfway there. He’s smiling against you, glancing up as you flutter around his single digit and make plenty of noise for him. “Yeah? Think you’ve really been needing some of that, little girl.” He nearly laughs at your extreme reaction. He had to admit, it was fun doing this with someone so inexperienced. Everything to you seemed like the best thing ever.
He eats and eats away, proving himself to have quite the monstrous appetite for your slick . Your feet rest on his shoulders at one point, lost in pleasure as you whine and writhe and to keep you out of the way, the outlaw pushes your legs up and pins them there, nose deep in your gloss.
“Feels too good— feels— hurts!” You cry, because you don’t know how to put that you’re simply aching to cum.
“Doesn’t hurt, sweet girl. Just let it happen.” He corrects in that low reverberation that you’ve grown to love. After a series of ‘Uh’ and ‘Mm’s, you feel yourself hitting that peak — the one you usually reach all over the soft cotton of your pillow, but ten times the strength.
As soon as he senses this happening, he doubles down and continues repeating the same action with his mouth over and over until you’re squealing and pushing him away, curling into a ball as your completion dribbles out of your quivering hole.
He grins, real proud of himself as he pushes up on his hands to near you, gently shushing you the same way you would to soothe a baby to sleep. “I know, that was a lot huh?” He coo’s, rubbing your back with his warm hand as you suffer the aftershocks, clenching and whimpering, a smaller clammy hand reaching out to his shirt to grab a fist of it.
He forces you softly onto your back, stroking a hand over your warm forehead. For someone so convinced the two of you shouldn’t be together, he sure did look at you like you were his entire world. By the gaze shared, you would never know the two of you only met that morning.
“What now, hm?” He smiles, quiet. You open your mouth to speak, and your voice rasps from the loud and explosive release that had you calling out.
“Wanna… make you feel as good as you made me feel, John B.”
He licks his lips, thinking over it. If it wasn’t already clear, his dick was throbbing in his pants just from pleasing you— and had you wanted to end things there he would be sure to take a trip to the bathroom to finish in his hand. Maybe swipe a pair of your underwear from the basin for inspiration, but that made his stomach tense with guilt.
“Think I can manage that, yeah.” He nods before reaching slowly for his belt. “Sure?”
“Mhm.”
“Good, good.”
His belt is still undone from after dinner so he slides the snakey leather from its loops with one hand, the act more attractive than you anticipated which made you clench once more with need. He sits on the edge of the bed and you usher up beside him, pressing your naked body to him and ghosting your drooly lips over his jaw line as he sighs, working his length out of his pants.
“Oh my.” You breathe, as soon as you look down. Now you hadn’t had much experience in dealing with the male anatomy, clearly — but you knew for certain John B had to be miles larger than the average man. His cock stood tall, straight — slightly mauve towards the tip with a beautiful blue vein drifting down his shaft like a river on a mountain. His balls sat beneath, heavy and pink — inviting in a way that made your mouth water primally.
“Yeah? This is… what m’working with.” He chuckles, sounding a little nervous.
“How do I…” You mutter after a moment and he’s quick to take your hand, pressing your fingers so that it forms a cup and bringing it to your mouth.
“You wanna spit for me, pretty? Right here.” He encourages and whilst you don’t understand, you do as he wishes, letting a bubbly glob of saliva drool out into the cupped crevice of your hand. You look up at him with wide unsure eyes, searching for praise or reassurance that you’d done as he asked. He presses his lips together at the sweet and submissive expression, shifting his hips a tad in excitement. “Mm, fuck.” He punctuates with an airy chuckle, ticking his head in a single shake.
He brings your hand down and begins to smear it all over himself, releasing a shaky exhale as he does so. “So, uh… you’re gonna wanna move your hand. Just like this.” He sighs as he works your hand up and down his shaft, slowly jerking him off. Your eyes flicker between his face and pretty dick to make sure you were doing it right. As you do so, he presses a lingering kiss to your lips, muttering a “So sweet, bubba.” Against your mouth.
This only encourages you to gain confidence, doing whatever feels right. You twist your hand— squeezing just a tad harder towards the tip as that seemed to be what made him release that heavenly groan, jaw constantly agape as he watches your hand.
“Theeere you go sweetheart. Easy right? Like milking a cow.” He kisses your temple briskly once more before his eyes screw shut, chest heaving with quicker breaths. You get carried away, fascinated by the pearly precum that seeps from his slit as you work him with your hand and following your own judgment you lean down. You figure if he used his mouth on you, you could return the favour.
His eyes open with a loud shudder when you tentatively wrap your plush lips around his tip, working your hand up and down to try and squeeze more of the interesting salty flavour from him. You let out a long drawn out moan of your own as you feel your clit throbbing with desire, liberating his precum from your mouth to let it dribble back down his shaft in messy bubbles.
He winces, placing a hand on your shoulder and removing you with such an abrupt speed that you nearly flew off the side of the bed. You sit up straight, slick mouth pouting as your eyes flicker between his, worrying that you’d done something wrong. There’s a second of just looking at eachother, before you stumble over some words.
“S—Sorry. Did I hurt—”
“No, no God no. I uh— I just wasn’t sure if I should make a mess all over that pretty face just yet.” His wide eyed expression melts into a reassuring smile, thumb rising to swipe lovingly at your cheek. You lick your lips, savouring the taste of him and nod — not quite sure where to go from there.
Your silence makes him question, and he eyes you. “Is there… anything in particular you want now?”
You think, blinking your doll-like eyelashes off into the distance before nodding once more— pushing off away from him and scurrying to the head of the bed where you lay yourself gently on the pillows.
“Hm?” He follows up in confusion, craning his neck round to watch you.
“Would… like a baby now, please.” You spread your legs a little, shy and bashful in your request like you wasn’t sure if you’d asked impolitely. His face falls as he stares at you for a moment before closing his eyes, rubbing over his face with an exasperated chuckle, elbows on his knees.
As you stare at him with with an upset little pout, already ashamed by your forwardness. “Like husband and wife?” You try to justify and he sighs out his nose, turning his body fully to you.
“Oh sweet girl.” He tugs you gently lower toward him by your hips, rubbing his thumbs at your waist. “We just met.”
You launch into full fledged begging, whiny and high pitched with tears threatening to dive over their trough. “I’ll make you so happy John B, I’ll make all your problems go away and you won’t have to run anymore. Please?” You were deadset on this man giving you your dream life, and you’d officially pushed shame to the side in order to get this. His brow is permanently creased, staring with those big wide puppy dog eyes, continually stroking your skin in hopes to calm you.
“Are you… sure that’s what you want? You’re still young. So much time for all that.”
“Just want it now. I’d never be lonely again.” You sound defeated, staring down away from him now. He felt bad, he’d always hated disappointing people. Once upon a time he was a fixer, always running to his friends aid to make their problems go away. That urge never died, just burned low and quiet like an old candle flame. He wanted to make your problems go away too.
“Okay.” He presses his lips together. “I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.”
He watches your devastated expression lift into a radiant grin, and it was like watching the sun appear from behind a grey cloud after weeks of downcast weather. “Yeah?” You chirp toothily as he crawls over you, leaking tip grazing your tummy and then your folds as he buries his face into your neck.
“Uh-huh.”
When he pushes his tip inside, John B says a prayer for the first time in his life.
He’d never really followed any religion. His father had been the type to say it was all a bunch of ‘Mumbo jumbo’ and that he should believe in the human psyche instead, or something like that. But as your wet folds swallow him and you release that high pitched mewl at the inevitable stretch — he finds himself asking God — please, please don’t let me knock this young girl up.
There’s a warm blanket of chills that cover his spine as he slowly sheathes inside of you, feeling like he was pushing deeper and deeper into a black hole that would selfishly keep sucking him inside for the rest of his life. It felt too good, calming — like falling asleep. He was euphoric.
“So — so big inside me!” Your cry knocks him out of his thoughts and he kisses your shoulder before looking down to watch himself push in all the way to the hilt.
“Feel okay, gorgeous?”
You nod, a pained whine falling from you as you dig your nails into his skin, walls fluttering around him like they were constantly trying to accommodate for this thickness. “Fuck.” He groans, before sliding back a little and starting to thrust. Yeah, he wasn’t gonna last too long— he needed to get to work on you fast.
As he gently fucks into you, your plush tits recoil with the movement and he can’t close his mouth, sounds and sighs leaving him without permission. A hand slides between the two of you, the other pulling his shirt up to grip between his teeth— giving himself a better view of the way he strokes at your clit — your legs being spread exposing it, making it easier for him.
You clench, and shudder — that sweet face contorting with each time his tip ever so slightly grazes your cervix, careful not to bruise it. You really were beautiful, that type of homely beauty he’d thought of marrying in his lonely nights of travelling through desert and grass. The type of girl you work for, the type that deserves spoiling, princess treatment. The more he fucks, the more he’s convincing himself that impregnating you might not be the most awful thing after all. Why should he chase away security?
Your fingertips grace his chest, and he takes your hand — pinning it to the bed as your fingers intertwine, using the grip to aid his rolling thrusts— speeding up the pace and force now he knew you could take it like a champ. His mouth opens to speak, and his shirt drops out of it.
“Taking me real good baby. You like getting fucked, don’t you?” He coo’s and you can only nod, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes before rolling down to your temples. Poor thing, lost for words.
There’s a wet slapping sound with each thrust, your cunt equally gushing as it was thirsty — hungrily welcoming each inch of his, and even demanding more by locking your ankles around his lower back. Perhaps you did it for comfort, or perhaps because you suspected a hesitance, the threat of him pulling out last minute too much for your baby-crazed brain.
“Jesus. Sweet little puppy.” He breathes like it’s a revelation beneath your ear, the curly tuft of hair above his shaft tickling you as he continues to rub your clit.
“S’gonna happen again, John B. The big feeling.” You strain, eyes clamped shut and sniffling— too overwhelmed by your impending orgasm. He kisses each eye lid and watches you closely, experiencing you unfold once more.
“Thats my good girl. Let me have it, pup. Gimme a good one.”
You’re an explosion of whimpers and moans, thrashing under his firm grip once more— and he’s not sure when your orgasm ends, if it even ends at all— he doesn’t care, the release pushing him close to his own. He speeds up his pace, hand that was at your clit now wrapping around your lower back, forearm pushing your lower half up and against him, forcing you to just keep taking him.
He was like a beast from a fairytale book, fucking wildly into you with a primal determination that had you struggling to breathe. You’re crying now, full out crying because it’s just so much. There’s still one last thing you require, and only he can give you it.
“You wanna make me daddy, huh?” He demands, that gentleness in his voice gone. It’s nearly unrecognisable from him, and you preen beneath the rough touch.
“Mhm!”
“Words.” He barks. He didn’t mean to be mean, he just got a little bossy when he was close. You’d come to learn that.
“Please give me a baby. Please just — make you a daddy! Need it!” You’re squealing, voice shaking from the hard ‘plap plap plap’ of his balls slapping against you. You feel you might pass out if this goes on much longer.
He releases with a long groan, lips dropping to the centre of your chest and back arching upwards. You register his sounds before you feel it, hot slimy ropes of him— shooting up inside you, warming your walls. You moan too, because it feels so good to be full. It feels right, like this was what had been missing after all.
Everything is a blur for the next few minutes. It’s like you black out a little, because maybe you forgot to be breathing like you should have been. You briefly recall John B scooping you up and helping you through that, ignoring the gooey seed dripping from you to cradle you like a baby, humming a calm “Breathe, sweetheart. In and out. With me, c’mon.” Your gentle boy was back, and through your haze you smile.
Once you’re tucked at his side beneath a soft cotton blanket, his hand stroking over your head after cleaning you up, a whispered conversation ensues.
“Do you really like me John B? Like, you really think I’m beautiful?” You inquire, gazing up at him with stuck together black eyelashes. The question was so innocent, yet he could tell it was so meaningful.
His expression doesnt falter, a gentle smile sat comfortably on his lips as he continues to pet you. “Baby, I think you’re the ponds swan. Just… gotta get to know you a little better, okay? ‘Specially if I really did put a baby in you.” Only then his smile falters, brows knitting as the reality sets in. Oh Lord.
“Okay.” Your eyes flutter closed, happy to leave it at that, happy to fall asleep right by his side under his watchful eye. It was unnerving how safe a lonely girl could feel with a stranger.
“Okay. Good girl. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.” He quietly reassures, watching you drift off. He’s not sure if he’s trying to dispel your fears, or his own.
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ericscroptop · 3 months
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Wet Dreams
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✧ pairing: eric sohn x mid-size/chubby fem! reader
✦ genre: friends to lovers + smut
✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) smut, kissing, cursing, slight angst, inexperienced reader, hand job, male receiving, lots of spit, fondling, praising/praise kink, pet names, talk of insecurities, body issues, internalized fat phobia, etc., pls be cautious because i know it can be a sensitive topic for some!
✦ word count: 9.3k words (LMAOOOO)
✧ synopsis: your friend eric invites you over to his house for a swim and it is then that you realize eric wants you in ways you would’ve never imagined for yourself.
✦ note: this fic is kinda self indulgent—written as someone who is mid-size/chubby and has insecurities. i just want people who have a chubbier/thicker/fat body to feel loved and be included explicitly in writings because we are all deserving of love and affection!
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You hated swimming.
Well— okay, so you didn’t actually hate swimming.
Your disinterest for the activity was not rooted in swimming itself, but for the fact that you’d have to wear some sort of bikini in order to swim.
Technically, there wasn’t a law that said you had to wear a bikini to the beach or the pool. There are plenty of people who happily choose to wear something like a t-shirt or cover-up that’s more generous while swimming for whatever reason.
There are also a plethora of bathing suits that exist, so there’s gotta be one that you feel comfortable in, right?
The thing is, you plainly felt insecure in showing skin. You were insecure of your arms that seemed to carry excess fat that was especially visible when you moved them. Your belly hung low and it honestly was more plump than your behind. You also had skin-colored stretch marks that decorated your lower back that never seemed to go away.
These were things about you that you constantly dwelled on no matter what. You couldn’t recall a day where the topic of your body didn’t flood your mind.
You had no problem in people showing skin at all. At the end of the day, the problem was simply your lack of confidence due to society’s beauty standards that have been shoved in your face, pressed into your mind, and flooded your ears for as long as you could remember.
Though today, you were attempting at conquering your insecurities and finally stepping out of your comfort zone.
It was scorching in L.A. today. It was too hot to go out but also too hot to just rot in your home all day. Even with air conditioning, you just felt nasty.
Your friend Eric invited you to come to his house for a nightly swim. A wave of anxiety hit you when you had read his text of the invitation. First of all, he was a guy— of which, you found insanely attractive.
He was a friend that you made in your Sociology course. You remembered how he randomly approached you one day to ask a question mid-semester about something that he could’ve easily found the answer to if he looked back at the syllabus.
Though, you were happy to help anyone who needed it and answered him nicely. Or maybe it was merely because he was probably the prettiest boy you had ever laid eyes on that actually approached you, so you didn’t think twice to reply to him—but you would never let anyone know that. He was appreciative, and since then, he decided to cling onto you since you showed him courtesy.
You honestly thought he would’ve forgotten about your presence or only come to you when he needed help, but he actually started sitting with you and even distracting you with mindless but entertaining conversations during lectures.
While you started looking forward to coming into class and now having someone to talk to, your only interest in the class became the charming guy who was energetic and always made you smile from ear to ear. You eventually told Eric that you needed to prioritize your lectures and cut back on the excessive side conversations during class. He decided to take that as an opportunity to ask for your number, so you guys could hangout outside the classroom.
You were shocked that he wanted to be your friend. You didn’t feel as charming or alluring as he was, but he still found interest in you. You guys started hanging out and doing things like studying (or trying to at least) and doing miscellaneous activities at least once a week.
He became your best friend all of a sudden. You were super grateful that he came into your life, but you still felt nervous around him. He was such a good guy. You didn’t want to take your friendship for granted.
Eric was also super outgoing and friendly, while you were more reserved and it was rare for you to make new friends and be spontaneous. Sometimes, you still wonder why he decided to become your friend.
Maybe you felt this way due to your insecurities, or maybe it was because you had this lingering feeling of butterflies in your stomach every time you guys were together. Maybe it was a mixture of both.
Anyways, for whatever the reason, you just tried to be a good friend to the guy. You didn’t want to fuck anything up and so you tried your best to please Eric and not be a burden in any way.
Now, you find yourself looking at your reflection in the mirror of Eric’s guest bathroom. You tug on your favorite oversized Spongebob shirt that you own, pulling it to where it ends just below your bottom. You were getting ready to finally swim, and Eric was already out by the pool waiting while you freshen up and change.
You sighed at your reflection with both of your hands placed against your hips, wondering why the fuck you’re feeling so uneasy.
You actually surprised yourself by deciding to wear a bikini for tonight. You purchased one awhile back just for the heck of it, even if you never mustered up the courage to wear it. The bikini was high-waisted and red with a twist front on the bottoms. The bikini top was also red and a wireless bra. It was actually super comfortable against your skin and red was a striking color, but all you saw in the mirror was your plump stomach screaming at you to be covered, and your cleavage just wasn’t elevated enough to your liking. Your arms were also bothering you, as you could only focus on the excess fat that was noticeable as you moved them. You probably were gonna look like a whale next to Eric and the thought made you uncomfortable mixed with embarrassed.
So that’s why you brought a t-shirt to swim in just incase you chickened out. There’s nothing wrong with having a shirt on in the pool. I mean, it’s normal! Though, you couldn’t help but feel ashamed that you felt like shielding yourself and not letting yourself wear that bikini freely. It was only going to be you two together, so why were you making it so complicated?
“Fucking hell,” you sharply inhaled and let out a heavy sigh. You stared deeply into the mirror one last time, picking at your skin as you had no makeup on. Another thing you felt insecure about. You always had makeup on around Eric, but this time you didn’t for obvious reasons. “Ugh, whatever,” you groaned out before finally leaving the bathroom, fed up with all this negativity you felt towards yourself.
I mean, why did you care so fucking much? You knew deep down that Eric would never judge you. Any normal person wouldn’t think so hard about going for a swim. This is a casual activity, why were you overthinking it?
You walked through Eric’s massive house towards his patio. You already knew the ropes around his house, since this wasn’t your first time here. Though, you had only been here for things like baking brownies on Friday nights and playing Super Mario Party on the Nintendo Switch, not for using the pool.
You reached the glass sliding door that opened the patio and led yourself outside. His patio lights were on, illuminating his backyard so that it wasn’t completely dark out. You spotted Eric sitting on one of the pool chairs, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram reels obnoxiously loud on his phone. He seemed to be passing time while waiting for you before he got into the pool.
“Hey, you.” you made your way over to where he was sitting with a smile on your face.
Eric perked up at the sound of your voice and abandoned his phone, twisting his body towards you. “Finally! I was seriously about to call you to ask what’s taking so long.” Eric mimicked your smile and adjusted his arms to where they were now leaning back behind him.
You felt a flush of heat wave over your body, not due to the humid summer night, but due to Eric’s appearance. His hair has been permed for a while now and you just can’t help but admire how good he looks in curly hair. His dark brown curls complemented his naturally tanned-skin so well. He’s also already shirtless, in nothing but a pair of blue swim shorts and a chain adorning his neck. He also had a cute bracelet around his wrist and small hoops that dangled from his ears as they always did. Every detail of him just looked so beautiful to you.
You mentally slap yourself for gawking at your best friend. You scoffed in response, “I don’t doubt that you would’ve.”
He chuckles as he rises from his chair, brows furrowing in confusion as his eyes run down the length of your body. “I thought you were changing into your bathing suit?” he asked curiously.
The tips of your ears go hot as he questions. You stare at him like a deer in headlights, fingers going down to fidget with the tips of your hair.
“Oh yeah, I just didn’t like how it looked at me.” you shyly admitted. You couldn’t lie to Eric over small matters. Even if you were embarrassed, you still felt complied to always be honest when he asks you something. Though, it was hard to have deep conversations with Eric because he was a guy— of which, you possibly have a small crush on. This was all new to you and you were still learning on how to navigate your friendship.
“Why?” he simply asked, staring at you, eyes full of concern. You bit your lip as he looked at you, your body starting to get a little tense.
“I dunno, I just am not used to wearing a swimsuit,” you shrugged. “I actually don’t go swimming often so I’m not used to wearing one. I typically would just wear a shirt like I am now.” You rubbed your left foot against your right ankle as you spoke, starting to feel awkward in having this conversation.
“Oh,” was all Eric said, starting to frown a bit but quickly shook his head and crossed his arms. “You know, I don’t care what you wear as long as it makes you comfortable, but right now, it’s just you and me here,” he subtly smiles. “We’re gonna be in the water having fun and cooling off. I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but you’re safe around me.” Eric reassures you and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
You half smile while looking down at your feet. “I know,” you simply agreed.
You suddenly look up at the feeling of his dominant hand now on your left shoulder, patting it reassuringly. “Y/n, you don’t have to be shy in front of me. We’re good friends, let’s be comfortable with each other, yeah?” His eyes were full of tenderness as you met his gaze. You pouted your lips playfully in attempt to not get sappy at his words.
He was right though. You just want to have fun and you’re letting your insecurities get the best of you. You know Eric isn’t an asshole. He never judges anyone’s appearance and you know he’s a sweetheart.
You nod your head as you take in his words. “Thanks Eric, really.” your face flushed as he shook his head.
“You don’t need to thank me. I know people wear shirts in the pool but when I picked you up earlier, you said you brought a swimsuit, so I figured you wanted to wear it. You don’t have to feel shy.”
He licks his lips and pauses for a moment before continuing, “You always look good.” Eric rubbed the back of his neck and shyly looked to the side as his voice faltered uttering that last part. Your lips parted slightly as you processed that compliment. The corner of your lips then curled upwards and you let out a soft chuckle.
“Okay, I guess you’ve convinced me. It’s just us, right?” you said rhetorically, sighing deeply. I mean, you were mainly going to be in the water anyways, so why trip over this?
Eric smiles seeing you finally deciding to remove your t-shirt, allowing your bikini to be worn properly. You toss the shirt onto the chair he was sitting at, and adjust your bathing suit top’s straps. He timidly looks away as you do, grabbing his phone to connect it to his speaker to play some music while you guys swim.
You start moving towards the pool, ready to finally do what you came here to do and allow yourself to enjoy this time. Eric looks back up at you dancing to the song he put on while making way into the pool, your locks of hair twirling around your back with each step. His gaze then ‘accidentally’ wanders down to your red bottoms, his cheeks flushing once realizing he’s checking you out.
‘Oh wow,’ he thinks to himself as he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment to tame his thoughts, rubbing his lips against each other. He then hears you call out to him that the water feels good and to come join him.
Eric puts his phone down and looks at you, your form hidden underneath water, splashing and gleaming as your body felt more relaxed now.
“I’m coming!” He shouts before he starts running towards your direction. You start grinning at his words because you have a dirty ass mind, but it immediately falters once you realize he’s gonna cannonball. Your brows knitted as he made way closer, both hands shielding your face and eyes closed once he plunges into the pool, creating splashes of waves in your direction.
“Eric!” you playfully scold him for of course having to jump into the pool like a maniac. You rub your face after the splashes drenched your face and hair, tucking your hair back behind your ears, sucking in a breath. Eric emerges from beneath the water breathing heavily, laughing as he sticks his tongue out, grazing it over the corner of his lip.
“You’re such a guy.” you scoff at him, rolling your eyes. Eric raises a brow and then begins to splash more water your way. “I’m only having fun!” Eric raises both hands from his sides, gesturing to the pool and cheekily smiling at you as he shakes his head gently.
———————————————————————————
You two swam for about an hour. You guys tossed a beach ball for awhile, chatted about old gossip you always brought up when together, and even played mermaids upon your request— to which created plenty of laughter on your part seeing Eric take his role very seriously for awhile.
He then pleaded for you guys to race— which you initially declined, having no interest. He pouted at your disinterest, but started racing anyways. Water splashed all over your face for the nth time as he swam to the opposite end of the pool, leaving you behind sulking and rolling your eyes.
“I’m getting out!” you yelled and lifted yourself out the pool. Eric continued racing himself as you walked away to grab some towels nearby for the both of you. Once he made it to the end, he let out a sigh at your lack of desire to race. He clearly wanted to spend more time together in the water, but you were all tired out.
He sees your figure loosely drying your hair, and makes his way out the pool towards you. You met his gaze and nodded your head towards a towel you laid out for him. He silently thanked you and began drying himself, then wrapping it around his waist.
You ditched the now-damp towel you used for your hair and wrapped a fresh one around your figure, almost like a blanket. You both sat down together on one of the long pool chairs, soaking in the night while letting the air dry you guys some more.
“Do you wanna order some food? I’m really hungry,” Eric turns to look at you, your eyes meeting his at the sound of his voice.
“Yeah, before my stomach starts growling,” you chuckle as Eric smiles.
“Does pizza sound good? The usual, right?” Eric asks even though he’s already looking through his contacts, searching for the number of a local pizza place that has become a regular for you guys.
“Yes, please.” You cuddle into your towel as Eric calls the number, the pizza place answering after two rings.
He began ordering you guy’s usual and you can’t help but stare at him while he talks on the phone. His curly hair is wettish from all the swimming, some of the curls falling past his forehead. Every so often he’d toss his head a little to shake the hanging curls away from his eyes.
You just couldn’t help but admire how fine your best friend was. It was a crime that he walked around looking like a god. The jawline he had could probably leave a cut on your skin if you brushed against it with how defined it was. His side profile was beyond alluring and would make you double take when passing a glance. His beautiful, bronzed skin made him look so godly.
And he even had such a nice body. Eric frequented the gym, and his abs and muscles were definitely proof of that. He was proud of his body, and did his best to keep his prominent muscle’s defined by working on himself consistently. He was dripping with good looks.
Eric ends the call eventually and you’re ripped away from your wandering thoughts, crushing hard over your best friend.
“Whatcha thinking about?” Eric speaks in a playful tone, meeting your gaze after putting his phone down.
You awkwardly begin to laugh, “Just about how hungry I am.” you obviously lie.
Eric cocks his head and shoots you a grin, “You were staring at me, though.”
Your teeth began to tug on your bottom lip, before letting out another nervous laugh as you looked to the side.
“Well, I guess I was just waiting for you to finish ordering,” you replied nonchalantly, making a weak attempt at putting on a poker face even though you’ve already failed.
“You love spending time with me, huh? Can’t get enough of me?” Eric playfully hits your arm with his elbow, causing an ‘ow’ to escape your lips even though it barely hurt.
“Why do you always have to be such a tease?” you wrinkled your nose in question.
“Cause’ I like you,” Eric casually admits like nothing, his eyes having been scanning over your face this whole time since having ended the call.
Your lips parted as you blinked harshly, eventually letting free a forced laugh and your face forms a lopsided grimace.
“Can you be serious right now?” you scratched your head as you looked at Eric.
“I am.” Eric spoke softly, losing the playful tone completely.
He felt like he was gonna explode at his random confession. What you thought was harmless teasing was him actually flirting and him having romantic interest in you. You guys started out as friends but as time went on, he fell for you. After all the conversations and hangouts, he got to know you better and even from the first day, he thought you were such a pretty girl.
Though, he didn’t know when the proper time to confess was or if he even wanted to. You guys have such a solid friendship, and it seemed like you were fine with your stance.
Then again, you were very timid, so you often held back any talk involving feelings— at least with him. You weren’t the type to open up first. He usually had to question you to get an answer out of you— as much as you were willing to say, anyways.
“Like… as friends, right?” Confusion flooded your face as you hadn’t a clue of where he was going with this.
“Yeah, but… what if I said I meant it as more than that?” Eric had this hope-filled look clouding his face. He looked at you anticipating that you felt the same. Even at his random confession, he hopes that you can see how serious he is. That he didn’t just fuck up your friendship by making things weird and that you get the hint that he wants to be more with you.
“Okay— this is not funny. Literally, what are you going on about?” you scoffed and shook your head. You honestly couldn’t believe what he was alluding to. It just can’t be. No way in hell is Eric Sohn admitting that he likes you in that way. No damn way.
“I would never in my fucking life joke about something like this, Y/n. I know this is out of no where— hell, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to tell you because I already appreciate what I have with you,” Eric sucked in a breath before continuing. “But I selfishly want to be more. After all this time together, I just can’t help but want to be able to hold you and call you my girlfriend every time I am around you.”
“I… I honestly think i’ve fallen in love with you.” Eric breathed out and swallowed hard as he looked at your now incredulous expression, his own eyes widening as he realized what he just said. Your mouth’s open in shock as you blinked excessively, trying to blink away at your now moist eyes.
“With me?” you laughed harshly at him and Eric’s lips turned down. “I think you’re mistaken,” your gaze shifted towards your feet as you continued. “You cannot love me in that way. I’m just… not perfect.” You’re in utter disbelief. You were way too insecure for your own good.
Of course you fucking loved him back. You tried to ignore it for so long, your stupid little crush on someone you accepted you couldn’t have because you felt that he was way out of your league and your status remained as just friends. He only saw you as a friend, you thought.
You were you and he was Eric fucking Sohn. He was on the baseball team, athletic, a gym rat, popular, out going, a sweetheart, and hot.
While you in comparison, stayed home most days you had zero obligations, barely had any hobbies, and had like 3 friends.
You felt unloveable because of how insecure you were. You didn’t think someone like you was capable of having romantic feelings reciprocated. You felt unworthy. Eric could easily bag an L.A. model if he wanted to. So why the fuck is he here saying he wants to be with you?
Eric blankly stares at you for a moment. His face has gone pale and he feels his throat getting tight. He’s trying to process what you have said. Where is all this coming from?
“You’re perfect to me.” Eric reaches out for your hand and you get goosebumps at the action. Your eyes shift to where your hand is now in his, his thumb stroking your skin gently.
“Eric…” you barely whisper before removing your hand from his hold, looking away and missing the sadness in his eyes at the loss of contact and rejection.
“You cannot be with someone like me… I mean, look at me and then look at you! You are fucking amazing, Eric,” you finally look at him to gesture your right hand at his figure. “You could have anyone in this world and you’re trying to tell me that you’re in love with me? Have you seen me?”
Tears well up in your eyes as you remove the towel you had draped around you from your body. Your fingers roam around your stomach and you harshly pull at your love handles. “This can’t be what you’re attracted to,” you swallow hard, feeling so vulnerable right now.
You felt ugly. Society has told you that you needed to lose weight to be loved. You needed to be slim or appear a certain way in order for everyone to be kind and pay any mind to you. Not many people bothered to get to know you. Even though Eric has been your friend for a while now, you still find it hard to believe someone as handsome as him wanted to be around someone like you.
No guy ever showed any desire in wanting to be with you romantically or physically, or even as a friend. All your friends with ease had people lining up to be with them and you felt so lonely— so unwanted.
Your whole existence, you’ve always felt unworthy and everyone’s last choice. You felt like something was wrong with you and you’ve sorted accepted it.
Eric sat in silence as he took in your words. He had no idea you felt this deeply about yourself, how you saw yourself in a negative light. He thinks back to when you came out in your shirt and said how you weren’t feeling yourself in your bikini which prompted you to come out covered. You were self conscious. He looked at you with distraught and teary eyes. He was heartbroken to hear you think so lowly of yourself when in his eyes, you were practically Aphrodite mixed with an angel.
“Y/n, I didn’t know you felt this way,” Eric’s eyes softened as you looked down to the concrete, feeling ashamed and embarrassed of yourself right now.
“I’m sorry if anyone has ever made you feel unworthy or uncomfortable to live as yourself. I’m sorry that you cannot see the beauty in yourself,” Eric choked out.
“But I promise you, that you are so beyond beautiful inside and out,” he licked his lips and shook his head. “You don’t understand how beautiful you are. How much I enjoy spending time with you. Why do you think I insist we hangout at least once a week?”
Eric lets out a chuckle which prompts you to look up at him. “After every hangout, or even after every class we had together, I was already longing for the next time we’d see each other. I’ve been desperate for you… you consume my thoughts, Y/n.”
Your face turns crimson as he says all this to you, processing his every word. It did begin to make sense. He’s the one who asked for your number first. He always invites you over to his home. He actually seems to care about you. You chew on your lip at the realization. You were so caught up in your own self consciousness.
You never have imagined that someone could love you in this way in reality.
Eric notices you begin to soften up a bit and his lips curl upwards, “I like that you can handle my silly antics and loudness, and always laugh instead of seriously being annoyed. I like that you have such a kind heart, and are always willing to make time for others— even if that means sacrificing your own obligations and time.” Eric looked at you in adoration, like a puppy in love. You have to admit, your heart swells at his words, and it brings a slight smile to your face.
“Oh come on, you’re so cheesy.” you playfully slap Eric’s hand as you sniffle.
He bites his lower lip and rubs his chin before continuing, “I also like when you have your hair up in a ponytail and leave two strands out on either side. I don’t see you with your hair up often, so I get excited when you do have it up.” You grab a piece of your hair and begin to play with it, face flushed as he keeps going.
“And,” he pauses for a brief moment, blushing as he whispers the next part. “I like it when I see you and I can tell you’re not wearing a bra.”
You drop the strand of hair and look at him with wide eyes, face full of sudden shock. Are you hearing correctly?
“Your nipples are always so hard, baby,” he chuckles as his gaze moves towards your chest.
“Even now, I can see them poking through,” he nods his head at your breasts. You look down and move your hands onto your chest, feeling your nipples through the top. You glance back up at Eric, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.
“Was that cheesy, too?” he questions, tilting his head to the side, shit eating grin smothering his face.
“Eric!” you scold the boy and mischievously hit his arm for suddenly admitting he stares at your breasts often. Though, your thighs instinctively press together at his lewd words, face still crimson.
Your best friend has admitted all these things to you. He sees you the way you see him, and it all feels like a hallucination. You usually feel so insecure, but he sees you like gold. You’re nothing but stunned right now.
Eric laughs as he wraps an arm around you, making you shiver at the sudden contact.
His hand reaches over your shoulder, accidentally brushing over close to your breast, resulting in you jolting at the sudden action as you felt sensitive to the touch.
Eric immediately removes his hand and leans back. “Shit, sorry!” he doesn’t hesitate to say. He’s embarrassed at his attempt in being smooth. He doesn’t want to scare you off.
“It’s fine,” you shyly speak. You have to admit, you were getting a bit turned on. After him showering you in compliments and confessions, you were now slowly accepting that he actually does want you in the same way you’ve fantasized over him.
Not only does he seem to like you for your personality, but also physically.
“No it’s not. I don’t know why I thought touching you like that without permission was okay. You’re still vulnerable,” Eric feels guilty and moves his eyes to look away from you in embarrassment. You haven’t even responded on whether or not you accept his feelings. I mean, you seem fine now.
Of course your insecurities won’t disappear overnight, but you looked more relaxed. He just hopes you don’t feel the need to shy away from him anymore.
“Eric…” you softly speak. He looks up at you curiously, humming as your eyes are already on him, looking at him softheartedly.
“I love you, too.” you murmur tenderly.
Eric’s heart suddenly starts beating fast. He adjusts his posture and a smile creeps up to his face as he registers your words for a moment.
“Are you serious?” he looks at you excitedly with flashing eyes.
“One thousand percent,” you gain the confidence to reach over to run your thumb along his cheek, taking your time to caress him. Eric feels the hair on his skin begin to stand up as you touch him intimately. His eyes shut as you take in his face, feeling it for the first time.
You smile at how cute he looks, softening under just the touch of your thumb.
“I’ll be yours if you’ll have me.” Eric states, his eyes opening to look at your own glistening ones. His face leans into your touch, feeling so good that you’re finally embracing him like this.
“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend,” you look up at him lovingly.
His heart swells at this moment. The moment he’s been longing for, where he can finally call you his.
Eric is going to make sure you feel loved every second of the day from now on.
He removes your hand from his face and holds it gently within his own. With his other hand, it is now his turn to stroke your face with his warm palm. You swallow as you feel yourself melting like ice at his hot touch.
Eric is so close to you, yet so far. You have him now, so that means you can do all the things you’ve longed for with him.
“I want you to k— kiss me,” you suddenly blurt out, gaining trust to do so.
Eric pauses his delicate stroke’s against your cheek, and looks at you in surprise.
“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you shyly admitted. You fluttered your eyelashes at him and stared at him pleadingly. “Please teach me, Eric.”
Eric swears he feels his dick twitch at your eagerness. With a simple sentence, his brain feels like it’s on fire. Oh how he’s longed to kiss your pink lips for what seems like forever.
Your innocence is cute, he thinks. How you’re willing to open up to him like this. How you are allowing yourself to let him love you in this way.
“You’re so precious,” Eric breathes out as he begins caressing your cheek again. You look at his eyes that carry a sense of longing as he scans your face, soaking up your features.
“We can take it slow,” Eric murmurs and you nod.
Eric’s thumb moves to your bottom lip, tracing the lines and feeling how plump it is. Your palms began to sweat in anticipation, and your heart rate increases at the build up.
Your eyes are open still, watching him curiously as he grazes his thumb over your lower lip gently, which makes his own heart flood in an ocean of warmth.
Eric’s thumb drops and his dominant hand moves to gently cup your jaw. His other hand pulls you closer against his chest, hand now resting on your side. You slightly shiver at his touch, fingers dancing over your love handles.
“You can touch me too, baby,” Eric nods at you, seeing you’re a bit tense and don’t really know what to do even though you so desperately want to feel his lips on yours already.
You hesitantly place your hand over his chest, rubbing the area carefully. Your fingers graze over his nipple and his eyes immediately shut at the feeling. He inhales sharply at your movements, and you can’t help but chuckle seeing him affected like this just by your touch.
Your other hand rests on the back of his neck along the nape, beginning to tangle your fingers in his curls and it feels like home for the both of you.
You don’t know what to do next, so you just continue combing through his hair. Though, you finally close your eyes, signaling to him that you’re ready for a kiss.
Eric’s lips curl upwards at how cute this is— you waiting for him to take the lead. He finds you very endearing like this.
He caresses your side as he slowly pulls your jaw close. Your lips separate faintly while he does so, awaiting for your lips to meet.
His eyes shut as he captures your bottom lip within his lips. He tilts your head ever so slightly so that you don’t bump noses, and your fingers messily fidget with the nape of his neck as he gently sucked your balmy lip.
Eric’s lips against yours feels electric. You allow him to guide you and you slowly get the hang of it, you soon after kissing him back. The kiss feels so magical. The feeling of his lips against yours sends sparks all throughout your body. You feel as with every movement his lips make against yours, you’re bound to explode like a firework at the passionate sensation.
You lose yourself in his lips, his hands soothing your body in the process, and nothing else matters except for Eric Sohn kissing you.
He pulls back for a moment, and you both stare at each other in awe at what you’ve shared. Eric suddenly lifts his rear off the chair for a bit, removing the towel he had wrapped around his waist and tosses it on the ground. He then decides to pull you over his lap, seating you on top of him with your legs wrapped around him. Your mouth opens agape at the action, your hands moving to his shoulders to steady yourself.
“Am I not too heavy for this?” you cringe, feeling like you can’t even be in this position for a second before it gets uncomfortable for Eric’s hold.
“Nonsense— you fit perfectly, baby,” Eric says. He spreads his legs a bit to make it more comfortable for you.
His hand rests on your back, fingers rubbing it soothly. His fingers trace the valleys of your stretch marks that decorate your lower back, and he smiles at the feeling of your skin.
“S’ gorgeous.” he murmurs, your cheeks heat up in response. Eric’s lips lean in to press against your pink cheeks, leaving tender, wet kisses all over your face. “You’re such a pretty girl.” he announces as you giggle at his affection towards you.
You crave for his lips on you again, so you take the risk of moving to glide your tongue over his bottom lip, begging to be invited in his mouth for seconds. A groan of satisfaction vibrates through Eric’s chest and he lets you in. Your tongues greet each other as your lips enveloped. A moan escapes your throat at feeling the wetness of his tongue against your own. You’ve suddenly lost your inhibitions after hearing all of Eric’s praises and tasting his pillowy lips. This kiss was sensual, becoming all hot and breathy in desire for one another.
Eric’s teeth gently graze over your bottom lip and you can’t help but move your body from the pleasure, resulting in you grinding down on Eric’s lap.
You pull back for a breath and your heart misses a beat as you feel something hard press against the fabric of your bottoms. You gasp at the foreign feeling.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Eric breathes out and goes to pet your hair. “We can stop if you want, just tell me,” Eric says, face turning red.
One of your hands moves to fiddle around his neck, admiring the chain that rested against his collarbones. You bat your eyelashes as you rub yourself against Eric’s crotch again, eliciting a deep groan out of him, his eyes drawn shut from your actions. You bite your lip at the stimulation it brought to your core. There’s a strange feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. This was all new to you, so it was very thrilling.
You lean over his neck and tenderly begin peppering kisses all over, his hips bucking up at the feeling of your mouth on his sweet spot.
“Mhm,” you whimper at the friction of his bulge against your core, which captivates Eric. The sound of your pretty moans and the way your body responds to him has blood rushing straight to his cock.
“What are you doing, princess?” Eric gently pulls you back from his neck, looking at your desperate eyes with his own, wetting his lips with his tongue.
You continue to rub your core against his crotch as he introduces that nickname. Your arms wrap around his neck and your fingers get lost in his curls once again.
“You like when I call you that, huh?” Eric nods his head at you, smirk prevalent on his face.
You whine at his teasing, hiding your face in his neck. “Eric…” you announce.
“Hm?” he hums, rubbing your back soothingly.
You pull back from his neck to look at him. He presses his lips together as you bashfully look at him. Your lips part in wanting to say something, but you hesitate in doing so, moving your gaze away from his own.
“What is it, baby?” Eric coos as he cups your jaw. “You can tell me,” he encourages you since you’ve suddenly gone shy.
“I— I want to taste you, Eric.” you practically whisper to him.
He chuckles, “You want more kisses?”
He sees you cutely furrow your brows with lips slightly pouted, gently shaking your head. “I don’t mean like that. I mean like… let me help you out,” with heavy lidded eyes, you gesture towards his manhood.
Eric’s lips gape slightly as it registers what you’re saying. He cannot believe what he’s hearing. You have no experience and yet you’re beyond eager. You’re so needy for him and it is fucking turning him on. He could probably cum right now in his swim shorts just from the kissing and grinding.
But, he doesn’t want you to rush into things so suddenly in the heat of the moment. He wants your first’s to be perfect. Even if you guys knew inside that you trust one another, he still wants to be sure.
“Y/n, let me take you on a date first at least, hm?” Eric rubs your thigh gingerly. “I don’t want you to do anything just because i’m hard right now. We can wait until you’re ready,” Eric softly smiles.
You’re still pouting, and let out a huff of frustration at his words. “I just want to taste it.” you whine out while your hips rut down into his, which draws a moan out of Eric, his fingers pressing deeply into your thigh in response. You sigh at the feeling.
“I’ve dreamed about giving you head since I met you,” you confess as you continue, drunk off the feeling of his cock through the thin pieces of fabric. “I promise I want to, Eric. It’s all I want to do tonight. We don’t have to go further than that— it’s what i’m comfortable with for now. We can save all the other stuff for another time. But right now, I just wanna please you if you’ll let me,” you babble, giving him pleading eyes and he see’s how bad you want it.
He wonders what happened to you being coy not that long ago— not that he’s complaining or anything, but you’re now feening over him. This feels like a dream. You wanted to please him so bad and he just could never say no to you, not in a million years.
He would be a fool to turn you down.
He lets out a deep sigh and tsks, his hands snaking around to grip your hips to keep you steady. “Okay, princess. I’d hate to ever say no to you,” Eric goes to chase your lips, sealing the deal. The kiss has you mewling into his mouth and he gulps hard at your noise.
You pull back from his lips and go to leave a tender kiss on the corner before he helps you get off his lap. You stand up as he stays seated, curiously watching your movements. You crouch down and your hands are on the towel Eric tossed earlier, starting to spread it neatly on the ground so your knees can rest over it.
“Here?” Eric questions as you get on your knees and your eyes lock. He bites back a groan as he has to now look down to meet your eyes, seeing you on the ground all submissive on your knees with your cleavage perfectly on display. It has him screaming internally.
“Yeah,” you say as you begin to stroke Eric’s knee. “I’m too impatient to go inside.”
Eric laughs and bends forward to press a kiss on your forehead, your nose scrunching cutely as his lips make contact against your skin. His hands then goes to cup your cheeks. “I’ll be as gentle as possible and guide you if you need it. Just tap my thighs or tell me if you want to stop. Okay, baby?”
“Okay,” you say and nod your head. Eric’s lips give you one last kiss on the corner of your mouth, and he lets you go.
You swallow hard, mentally questioning yourself on how you want to go about this. Eric watches you, smirking as he can practically see the wheels turn on your head. He’ll guide you, but only if he see’s you struggling or if you ask for it. He wants to see what you can do, since you seem to be so eager for his cock.
You begin by inching a bit closer to his crotch, just between his knees. Your hands move to touch his abdomen, running your fingers along the defined lines of his abs. Your lips pucker up as you press hot kisses along his stomach, appreciating how beautiful Eric’s build was. Eric’s dominant hand goes to rest in your locks, massaging your scalp as you kiss his tummy.
“You like my body, baby?” a smug look is present on Eric’s face as he says so.
“You’re beautiful,” you breathe out shamelessly, pausing when you’ve gotten closer to the skin just below his belly button.
You soon remove yourself and he lets his hand fall while your hands move to the waistband of his swim shorts. You play with the fabric a bit in nervousness, still figuring out how you’re going to approach this sensual act and wondering if Eric will be satisfied with your performance.
You finally tug his shorts down and fully off. His cock then immediately flops up against his abdomen, slapping the skin.
You gasp at first sight of his cock. It’s pretty lengthy and fat, erect with precum residing on his tip. You gulped as Eric’s right hand moves over to his shaft, beginning to stroke himself as he nibbles on his bottom lip. With pursed lips you look at him, feeling tingly and flushed all over as he makes eye contact with you while he touches himself.
“You wanna touch it?” Eric raises a brow as he slicks his cock in his wetness. You’re salivating at the sight of his naked form playing with himself. He looks so pretty on display like this for you.
He lets go of himself and you finally start to test the waters, hesitantly grabbing the base of his cock and stroking the skin. Eric hisses once he feels your small hand over his base. “Fuck, baby.”
You bite back a smile at his reaction and you start to give the tip kitten licks while rubbing the underside of his cock with your thumb. The taste of his precum lands on your tongue, causing Eric to purr in pleasure.
“Starting off as such a tease.” he mumbles while his legs instinctively spread to give you more room and his left arm goes behind the back of his neck and head, giving you a perfect view of the little sailboat and paw print tattoos that decorate his bicep. So fucking hot, you think to yourself.
You experimentally press your tongue along the underside of his cock, gliding it over a vein all the way up towards his tip, then deciding to take the head of it in your mouth.
A hearty groan rips from Eric’s throat as he feels all these sensations, and you begin to bob your head over a bit of his length, your hand jerking off the rest of his shaft.
“Breathe through your nose, baby, and hollow your cheeks,” he advises you between breathy moans.
You slowly challenge yourself to go deeper, coating his cock with your saliva. Eric is entranced by the slurping sounds that start to escape your lips and becomes drunk off the feeling of your warm mouth encompassing his cock.
His eyes shut while his hips can’t help but buck into your mouth at the feeling. You choke at the sudden movement, removing your mouth and gasping for air, sobbing out a moan as his length pops out your mouth.
“Fuck, princess. Mhm— sorry, can’t help myself,” Eric chuckles, licking his lips as his hand falls into your hair, caressing it gently and keeps it from falling around your face.
Your eyes meet and you hold contact, both of your eyes each going dark with lust while you take him in your mouth again, your left hand running up and down on what you can’t fit while your right decides to rest on his balls, beginning to massage and fondle them.
“That’s it, baby! What a good girl, playing with my balls without being asked, hmm— you’re an angel.”
Eric praises you and your moans vibrate around his length in response. Your sucking starts to become more enthusiastic at his praises. You remember to curl your lips over your top teeth so they don’t touch him when you start to feel confident to take him deeper.
Eric’s gaze is fixated down on you as you bob your head, being such a brave girl and taking as much of him as you can. Your head rotates from side to side while sucking him, and your right hand is still rubbing circles along his balls, groping them and loving how heavy they feel in your hold.
Eric can’t help but grip your hair a bit tight as your mouth is driving his body insane. You gag around him as you take a bit more than you’re able and he carefully pulls you off. You cry out as you breathe in the fresh air, a string of saliva still connecting your lips with his cock. Eric growls seeing his cock coated in your saliva and his precum, and then moves his vision towards your mouth, your own spit now raining down your chin.
You inhale sharply as you give your mouth a short break and your right hand starts to jerk him off, feeling the wetness of his shaft glaze your hand.
“You’re s’ so big, Eric,” you whine and your lips stay parted, running your tongue along the inside of your mouth. “Jaw is starting to hurt.” you whimper as you look up and flutter your lashes at him, throwing your head back, thighs squeezed together as you tighten your hold around his cock.
“Just a little longer, baby. Getting close,” Eric coos and guides your lips back to his cock again. You run his tip all over your lips like a lipstick, humming in satisfaction at the wetness. You want nothing more than to drown in his essence.
Although your jaw is growing tired, you’re desperate to make him cum. You force your mouth to open wider and bob up and down as far as you can, sucking more of him as much as your mouth can handle.
The suction and slurping noises start to become more frequent from you as you pick up the pace. Eric’s breathing becomes more ragged at your rhythms and pretty sounds.
“Mhm, fuck! Getting close princess— where do you want my cum?” his brows furrow as he peers down at you, tears beginning to form in your eyes when you bring his head far back enough to trigger your gag reflex.
You start to get sloppy with your movements and meet his gaze with your own pleading eyes as he attempts to pull you back by your hair, though, your left hand finds purchase on his base and your right hand’s fingers dig deep onto the skin of his leg.
He laughs in seeing you not having any desire to come off him, “So this is what you meant when you said you were hungry earlier, hm? Can’t believe my pretty, perfect girl wants me to cum in her mouth for her first time. So fucking hot.” Eric’s cock twitches and balls tighten up once he’s approaching his release, brows knitting together and mouth agape, beginning to whimper in overstimulation.
“Mhm— Eric!” you muffle around his cock while your pussy throbs from listening to his pretty sounds leaving his lips as a result of you and from his fat length twitching in your mouth.
You continue to suck and jack off sloppily what you can’t fit, and before you know it, his hot, creamy load coats your tongue and paints your mouth white.
Eric’s head is thrown back, abs and jaw clenching as his release creates spasms throughout his entire body, sighing your name over and over weakly like a mantra.
His cum feels hot, thick, and sticky in your mouth. His release tastes slightly sweet, and you swirl and swish it around your mouth before swallowing as much as you can.
Your eyes are heavy lidded as you gently suck the head of his cock like a lollipop in attempt to drink up every last drop of his cum. You bring your lips to the tip and kiss it a few times, rubbing his balls tenderly to soothe him.
“Atta’ girl. Good fucking girl.” Eric praises you, groaning with a raspy voice.
You huff out a breath as you remove yourself entirely from his length. Wetness from tears decorates your eyelashes and stains your cheeks, vision somewhat blurred from all the work you put on his cock. Drool mixed with Eric’s cum is dripping down your lips and chin, and you continue to let spit fall, your mouth open with eyes closed as you try to calm yourself.
Looking at you, Eric feels numb in the head seeing you all fucked in the face from his cock. What a gorgeous sight.
After a few seconds, you both slowly start to calm down your uneven breathing. Your hand goes to wipe off whatever is left on your face, but not before Eric tuts at you and carefully hoists you up against him, his lips attaching against your own in a beat of his heart. Both of your lips move hungrily in sync and you moan into the kiss.
“You did so well, princess. You were such a good girl for me. The most perfect girl, and all mine.” he growls in between kisses as he tastes your saliva mixed with his own cum, and places you on his lap. Your hands go to wrap around his neck and one of his hands smooths over the fat of your middle, massaging it lovingly while his other hand rests on your neck. You shift a bit as he does so, gasping once you become aware of how damp and creamy your bottoms are. Eric seems to feel your wetness over his dick, grinning as the tip of your ears turn red and your cheeks flush pink in embarrassment.
“Aw, my pretty girl is all soaked ‘cause of me?” his hand goes to play with the flesh of your ass and you whine at his words. He kisses your cheeks sweetly and nuzzles his nose against your own. His heart feels so full to be so close to you like this. To have you in his arms and sharing intimate moments is a dream come true. You feel the same as he embraces you and is so gentle to you, feeling so loved by your best friend turned boyfriend.
“Can’t wait to take you on a date and treat you like the princess you are,” he whispers. “Then, when you’re ready, i’ll be sure to make you cum as hard as you made me. Sound’s good, baby?” Eric murmurs and you grab a hold of his chin, ready to plant another kiss on his lips before the sound of a ring causes you both to jolt up.
Eric groans, eyes rolling back in annoyance as he twists his head to see that it’s his phone ringing. You press a quick kiss to his jawline as he answers it, massaging his scalp while he talks on the phone.
“Hello… Oh, you’re here?— I’ll be right out!… Sorry to keep you waiting… Okay thanks, bye!”
“Shit, the pizza’s here.” Your eyes go wide as you register the call and his words and you quickly get off Eric. He rushes to put on his swim shorts and immediately bolts inside to get the food at the front door, leaving you outside by yourself.
You laugh at how fast he scurries off and then you sigh at the feeling of you bottoms sticking to your core within all the wetness. “I hope he lets me borrow a pair of boxers or something,” you say out loud to yourself as you make your way inside, ready to dig into some real food.
As much as Eric’s meat filled your mouth up nicely, you could use a couple slices of pizza to now fill up your empty stomach.
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astrxealis · 2 years
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shadowbringers still is one of the songs w my fave lyrics (please listen if you'd like >< /nf)
#authors of our fate / orchestrate our fall from grace / poorest players on the stage / our defiance drives us straight to the edge#a reflection in the glass / recollectiong of our past / swift as darkness cold as ask / far beyond this dream of paradise lost#& then theres also !! honestly the whole song is FUCKING SICK#the road that we walk / is lost in the flood / here proud angels bathe in / their wages of blood / at this the world's end do we cast off#- tomorrow#& then n then#brief our moments brazen and bright / forged in fury tempered in ice / hindmost devils early to rise / sing come twilight sleep when they#- die#heaven's banquet leavened with lies / sating honor envy and pride#and that's not even all yet#i seriously think that ffxiv is an experience that. i wish everyone cld experience IDHWIFHSKBSKWND#BOTH THE REASON FOR THERAPY AND THERAPY ITSELF I KID YOU NOT /pos#my. my expectations and like. Good Story shit is forever ruined by ffxiv i am completely serious LMAO i love you p5 but#i don't think p5 and gbf and fe3h compare to ffxiv for me? but like. theyre all different so this statement is technically false for me#i love them all but nothing hits as much as ffxiv bcs ffxiv FEELS like a mix of these 3 games. it has nier stuff too even !!#as a whole it is THE whole of final fantasy and i just. hold ffxiv in such a huge regard#it's not perfect though for sure but nevertheless ... an amazing game#and the devs are amazing! aaa#so much love in my heart for ffxiv ......#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#✩.ffxiv#✩.saved#i can go on forever honestly#Spotify
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adascore · 4 months
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THE GOLDEN WAR
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pairings: alexia putellas x lyonnais!reader
warnings: swearing. for culers the ‘22 uwcl final ig. jona is kinda mean in this.
author’s note: this is the same reader from my ‘one for the money, two for the show’ fic of the lionesses!captain. reader is basically ada hegerberg lolsies :) will be turned into a series.
masterlist
•••••
Turin, Italy - May, 2022
''The final has been dubbed as a duel between you and Alexia Putellas, do you experience it as that?''
The Lyon captain fought the urge to roll her eyes at the question, despite having expected it. ''It is a final between Barcelona and Lyon, nothing more than that.'' She answered, diplomatically- the way they had rehearsed it.
''Lyon is the underdog coming into this final- FC Barcelona has been unbeatable so far. What do you need to do in order to beat them tomorrow?'' Another reporter asked, a pen ready in his hand to take notes.
There was a slight change in her expression as the question left his lips, the man succeeding in poking through her stoic expression. ''Well, we have never lost to Barcelona- I don't know if you remember 3 years ago or even last year,''
Lyon had comfortably beaten the Spanish club in 2019. In that Champions League Final, Y/N had become the first player to score a hattrick in a UWCL final. Their last meeting had been in 2021, in the pre-season, where Lyon had won 3-2, the Lyon captain again putting one in the net.
''We have won this competition many times. There was football before Barcelona, and it was being played by us.''
Her last sentence of the quote had struck a nerve with the Barça captain.
''She acts like she has already won the whole thing.'' Alexia remarked as she read a transcript of the press conference.
Patri and Mapi glanced at one another, a knowing look in their eyes. ''Technically, there is nothing wrong about what she said, Ale. How many times has she won this competition now? 6? 7?'' The defender said, not having a problem with the opposition's words.
''She's just pissed that everyone is talking about us now.'' She ignored Mapi, continuing berating her opponent.
The rivalry between the captains of the two top teams had been something made up by the media, seeking a female counterpart to the famed Ronaldo-Messi rivalry. Both Alexia and Y/N led Europe's premier clubs, won the Champions League, captained their national teams, and earned the Ballon d'Or. This fueled incessant comparisons.
Alexia and Y/N hadn't given it much thought at first. There were also many differences between them; Alexia is a midfielder, while Y/N is a striker. Despite their similar ages, their careers took diverse paths. Alexia remained in the Spanish league, while Y/N gained experience across various countries.
Over time, an unexpected shift occurred. They began caring about each other's achievements. Yet, they knew the comparison wasn't fair.
Despite being younger, Y/N dominated women's football for longer, winning the Champions League seven times – twice with Wolfsburg and five times with Lyon. In contrast, Alexia secured one with Barcelona. Neither had won anything major with their national teams, though she had come close with England a few times. Furthermore, on the accolades side of things, Y/N led with a repertoire that most players could only dream of.
For a long time, it hadn't bothered Alexia. She had watched in admiration as the younger player became the first recipient of the Ballon d'Or, a huge step in women's football. Y/N's advocacy for the sport also didn't escape the Spanish player.
However, her admiration had turned into envy.
The turning point came in the 2019 final against Lyon. She had observed the way the English striker had celebrated with her entire team- how the Lyon squad immediately ran to her once the whistle blew and how Y/N bathed in all the (rightly deserved) glory. Alexia wanted that for herself. For years, Y/N had been the nail in Barcelona's coffin, scoring the goals that made sure they couldn't continue in the competition- in the captain's opinion, the striker had made a joke of her team for years, even if she didn't meant to do that.
Their interactions over the years were limited to polite handshakes before or after matches. Occasional encounters outside the pitch were rare and brief, seldom extending beyond a few sentences.
Alexia's surprise peaked when Y/N congratulated her on winning the Ballon d'Or through both private and public Instagram messages. Despite her reservations about comparisons and rivalry, receiving praise from someone she admired as one of the best in the game left Alexia with a positive feeling.
''No, I think she's just not a fan of being referred to as an underdog.'' Patri defended the Lyon striker.
This explanation didn't sit well with Alexia, evident from the displeasure on her face. ''Whatever,'' she retorted, looking forward to settling matters on the field that Saturday.
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Saturday, May 21, 2022
Excitement, adrenaline, nerves, and tension permeated the tunnel of Juventus Stadium as Alexia, tightly gripping her pennant, stood at the front of her lined-up team, awaiting the opposing captain.
The sudden hush among the Barcelona team signaled the arrival of their counterpart. Turning around, Alexia frowned at her teammates' fascination with the approaching striker.
This is not the time to be fangirling, she thought to herself, as she saw most of her players' eyes following the striker's figure.
As the two top players faced each other, uncertainty lingered about whether they should exchange greetings. Y/N broke the silence, deciding to offer some acknowledgment. ''Hey, you alright?'' Her charming English accent filled the air.
''Yeah, and you?'' Alexia almost cringed at her own quick response, not giving her brain time to think.
''I‘ll see in about 90 minutes.'' The younger one grinned.
I'll wipe that smirk off your fucking face, Alexia said in her mind, not a fan of the confidence the striker was oozing.
Ten minutes later, the referee blew the whistle, signaling the start of the highly-anticipated final.
Lyon applied intense pressure right from the start, managing to create two goal-scoring opportunities within the first three minutes of the match.
However, the audience were offered their first initial glimpse of the rivalry in the 6th minute of the game.
Y/N positioned herself strategically, eyes fixed on her teammate readying a precise pass to her. The ball zipped across the pitch, and in a heartbeat, both Y/N and Alexia were locked onto winning it for themselves.
The striker, a master of timing, surged forward. Simultaneously, the midfielder closed in on the target. The collision was inevitable.
Both players fell with a thud, groaning at the contact with the ground. Despite the force of the clash, they both showed resilience as they wanted to use the momentum to their advantage.
They were momentarily entangled, fighting for control of the ball. It was a brief display of the rivalry that had brewed between them.
Y/N rose swiftly from the turf, eyes filled with determination. The collision had only fueled her competitive fire. With the ball firmly at her feet, she accelerated away from the mess, leaving Alexia behind.
The crowd erupted in gasps and cheers as Y/N, now in open space, scanned the field. Seizing the opportunity, she unleashed a powerful strike from well outside the box.
Time seemed to slow as the ball sailed towards the goal. Panos's desperate dive was in vain as the ball found the back of the net. The roar of the crowd echoed through the stadium, a symphony of cheers and applause for a goal that showcased the skills and spirit of the Lyon captain.
A fleeting scowl crossed Alexia's face, frustrated at the missed opportunity.
Y/N turned on her heels as the net rippled, ready to embrace her teammates who were rushing to her.
''Vamos!'' She roared, the Spanish word escaping her lips like a battle cry.
Yet, she found herself face-to-face not with the familiar sight of Lyon jerseys but with the intensity of Alexia's determined gaze.
Her expression froze for a quick second, confusion adorning her features. Y/N's eyes widened in realization, and for a brief instant, the two captains locked eyes in an unspoken exchange.
The celebration continued around them, teammates engulfing Y/N as they screamed with delight at their captain's prolific opener. The air was filled with jubilation, but within the chaos, the tension lingered between the two captains, adding an intriguing layer to the unfolding drama on the pitch.
The match unfolded further, Barcelona grabbing a few opportunities of their own, but not being clinical enough to score an equalizer. The Spanish squad remained calm, showing no signs of panic in their play, despite being behind.
Selma and Melvine played a great one-two with each other, and the young defender shot a beautiful cross towards the box. Anticipating the trajectory of the ball, Y/N skillfully pulled away from Leon, who undoubtedly had the impossible task of marking the striker.
The ball connected with Y/N's forehead, falling perfectly into the mesh. The scoreboard illuminated with Lyon 2, Barcelona 0. The narrative had shifted as the favorites stomped the ground in frustration, while the ''underdogs'' celebrated another goal from their captain.
The first half flew by. Y/N managed to assist Catarina to make it 3-0, but Alexia found the back of the net to get one back.
3-1.
The second half saw more scoring opportunities for Barcelona, but no one managed to finish the job.
After contact with Martens, Griedge cited experiencing a cramp and asked for treatment- a request that the Barcelona side was not having. Y/N, understanding the frustration of time-wasting, especially when behind in a match, stood aside.
However, the Lyon captain didn't appreciate the scolding she received from the opposition's coach. ''Tell your player to stop the comedy, what a shit job!'' Jonatan exclaimed to the English captain, who observed the scene from the sideline.
Y/N didn't budge, paying him no attention, knowing it was all tactics. She gave an unimpressed look toward the referee, who had been observing the one-sided interaction.
The official ran up to them, pulling a yellow card from her pocket and holding it in front of the manager. ''Step back, please. Don't talk to the opposition.'' she instructed him.
The match eventually resumed. In extra time, Paredes almost managed to pull off a header, but it went flying over the post.
In the last minute of the game, Y/N teamed up with Eugénie to score a last-minute beauty, but the volley slammed against the post.
The piercing sound of the referee's whistle resonated through the stadium, marking the conclusion of the final. Lyon emerged triumphant for a record-extending 8th time.
Overwhelmed by her own emotions, Y/N fell to the ground as the whistle echoed in her ears. It didn't take too long for her teammates to rush up to her, colliding in a chaos of hugs, kisses, and jubilant shouts.
They had done it again, proving once more why all the records were tied to their name.
''Y/N, you're a fucking legend!'' Lindsey yelled in her ear, kissing her cheek multiple times.
As her teammates slowly got up from their celebratory cuddle with the ground, they formed a protective circle around their captain. Hands reached out to help her rise from the grass, and she found herself enveloped in a symphony of gratitude.
Eventually, she shook off her glorious daze, a wide grin etched on her face.
Y/N turned her attention to the defeated Barcelona players, spread out across the field with tears and disappointment staining their cheeks. She approached them, offering a helping hand to those still on the ground and sharing comforting words. Acknowledging the effort they had brought, she assured them that they gave her team a greater fight than the scoreline implied.
Before the Lyon squad embarked on their victory lap to greet the traveling supporters, Y/N's gaze fell on a heartbreaking scene. Across the field, the Spanish captain, Alexia, was cradled in a comforting embrace by a Barcelona staff member as tears streamed down her face.
Y/N hesitated, caught in a ''should I or shouldn't I'' moment with herself.
She chose to make an attempt to resolve whatever tension had built up between them.
Tears glistened on Alexia's cheeks, a testament to the intensity of the match and the dreams left unfulfilled. The Barcelona staff member, offering solace in the face of defeat, glanced up as Y/N approached, and let go of her.
''Alexia,'' Y/N greeted her softly, putting her arm around the Spaniard, ''thank you for the great battle.'' She hadn't prepared what to say, because what do you say against someone you feel like you are supposed to hate? What do you say against someone you've been constantly compared to for over a year?
To the striker's surprise, Alexia reciprocated, feeling an arm on her lower-back. ''Congratulations, you deserved the win. You played phenomenal.'' The midfielder told her, a forced yet genuine small smile making a way onto her face.
''Don't let this hurt you. You are literally one of the best players I have played against- your team is amazing. Use this, like in 2019.'' Y/N advised her, not particularly caring if the opposing player would take it or not.
''We will. I hope we can play many more finals. You make me- you make us grow.'' Alexia stuttered.
Y/N nodded. ''I hope so too. It's been fascinating to see the growth you guys have made these last years.''
The stadium now bore witness to a quieter exchange between the two captains. Almost every camera lens and watchful eye fixated on them.
As Y/N and Alexia exchanged words of mutual respect, their moment of shared understanding was abruptly disrupted by the Barcelona coach.
''Congratulations on the win, Y/N.'' He acknowledged briskly, his gaze quickly turning toward Alexia. His extended hand to her seemed more like a formality, but Y/N accepted it.
Almost forcibly, he placed a hand on Alexia's shoulder, a non-verbal cue that spoke volumes. ''Come on.'' He declared, his tone leaving little room for negotiation and they were off to wherever he needed her to be.
Alexia casted an immediate glance back at Y/N, a mix of emotions played across her face- gratitude for the moment, and frustration at its abrupt end. She hadn't responded to her words yet.
As the Spaniard was led away, Y/N's eyes lingered on the departing figure, a tinge of melancholy in her gaze.
The brief encounter had sparked a momentary connection- a bridge attempting to break through the perceived rivalry and show praise for a strong opponent. However, Jonatan's swift intervention acted like a pair of scissors, cutting through the threads that held that connection.
In Y/N's mind, Alexia had seemed appreciative of the opportunity to have a genuine conversation. She figured there must have been a good reason for her to have been pulled away like that, especially by the head coach.
The Barcelona captain had reacted with a hint of irritation when her coach suggested to the Lyon player to remove her arm from Alexia's shoulder. She tried asking Jonatan why he had coaxed her away, but she didn't receive a proper answer.
The whole thing had left a bitter taste in her mouth. The potential for a more extended, sincere exchange was cut short, leaving Alexia with lingering frustration. There was a desire to understand Y/N beyond the competition, but it was cut short.
She hoped her last glance had worked as a silent acknowledgment of what could have been.
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