#L&L fanfic
Text
Breakfast
Husband!Joel Miller (no outbreak) x afab!Reader
Summary: Your usual Saturday morning routine with your husband takes a turn, for the better.
W/C: supposed to be 1k as per my celebration rules, but... it is now 2k... Oops... I’m sure y’all don’t mind😚.
18+ MDNI: Implied age gap (8 years per request hehe<3). Feminine pet names. Oral sex (reader recieving). Implied domesticity kink. Slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms. Soft Dom!Joel. Dom/sub undertones. Joel being a check-in king (safe word system in action, we love good communication). P in V unprotected. Breeding kink (y'all should expect this from me from now on LOL). ONE (1) USE OF "DADDY" (I had to, I'm not sorry). Sweet sweet aftercare.
A/N: This is in response to this request made by @survivingandenduring for my 1k follower milestone celebration. I remember you being one of the first to accompany me on my journey, and now that we're here together celebrating something I'm so humbly honored to experience, it feels so surreal. I love and appreciate your existence so so very much. Thank you.💚 I hope y'all enjoy!! (Pics for aesthetic purposes only)
MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION
Saturday mornings are your favorite. They’re lazy. They’re warm. They’re spent wrapped completely in the arms of your husband, Joel Miller. Whether it’s your lips or your limbs tangled in between the sheets—Saturday mornings are for you and him.
So when you woke up this morning to the other half of your bed colder than usual, you woke up with a frown. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you pull yourself to the restroom to brush your teeth and wash your face, not bothering to change out of your sleep clothes since you made Joel promise you that you guys weren’t going anywhere today.
“Darlin’?” His Southern twang calls out.
“In the bathroom, baby,” you respond, rubbing in the last of your face cream.
With a soft knock to your door, he’s entering, a crooked grin at the sight of you. You can’t help the grin that breaks across your face—no matter how long you two have been married, the bashfulness of two teenagers crushing on each other will never go away.
“Good mornin’, beautiful,” his gruff voice rasps, walking up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his lips ghosting the sweet spot below your ear.
“Good morning, handsome,” you reply, leaning your body into his large, warm form.
“Come back to bed,” he whispers, his face burying itself deeper into the crook of your neck.
“Where’d you go?” You ask, not particularly liking the fact that you didn’t wake up with him this morning.
Joel turns you in his hold so you’re facing him now. “I’m sorry, my love, I thought I’d be quicker than I was,” he tells you, catching the tone of disappointment in your voice. “I went to make you some breakfast,” he admits. “Nothin’ fancy, I just- I wanted you to eat.”
You narrow your eyes at him, flashing him a small smirk. “What’s your motive, Miller?”
“Uh-” he stutters, not expecting that from you. “No motive, baby. What, a man can’t make sure his lady eats?” An exaggerated offensiveness evident in his inflection as he speaks.
“Please,” you giggle. “Every Saturday, like clockwork, I either wake up with your tongue, cock, or fingers inside of me,” you state matter-of-factly. “Why breakfast now?” you ask, your eyebrow quirked up, his signature look. You cross your arms over your chest for good measure.
Damn, you’re good. And damn, he’s so fucking in awe of you. “Fine,” he relents. “The last few times… after we’re done… you get super jittery and lightheaded. Like your blood sugar is low or somethin’. I dunno, I just, I don’t wanna be pulling so much energy from you, especially on an empty stomach.”
Your jaw would be on the floor right now if it wasn’t attached to you. Oh. My. God. You knew what you were getting into, marrying a Southern gentleman and an older one at that; and you knew just how considerate a lover Joel Miller was, but it never fails to leave your heart—and your pussy—fluttering at how attentive your man is. You are so damn lucky.
Going back to the room and settling on the bed, Joel climbs up beside you and feeds you your breakfast—one of your absolute favorite combos: a greek vanilla yogurt, your favorite granola, and chopped up fresh strawberries. You make this almost every morning, but something about him making it just makes it taste a thousand times better—leaving your body energized for what was next to come… because shit, did you need it.
“Joel,” you sob, tears falling from your eyes as they fight to stay open.
He lifts himself off your cunt, bottom half of his face shiny with your arousal. “Gimme one more, darlin’, then I’ll give you my cock,” he tells you, his heavy breath fanning across your spent center.
“Joel, I-” you whimper, “I can’t.” Your hips bucking into his face says otherwise. He taps your hip three times. Safe word? He silently asks. One tap for green, two taps for a yellow, three taps for red—an immediate stop. Your hand nearly ripping his curls out of his head softens, tapping his neck once as you attempt to gain your breath back, soft whines blessing his ears.
He nips the inside of your thigh before he speaks again. “You can,” and then he’s diving back in, tongue breaching your entrance as his nose rubs perfectly at your clit, hurtling you towards your third orgasm of the morning.
“Oh, fuck-” you nearly scream, head pushing into your pillow with your eyes clamped shut, back arching off the bed. Joel throws his arm across your lower belly, keeping you down and open for him as he licks you through your high.
Finally, he relents with a satisfied smile, placing a chaste kiss to your clit. “Knew you could give me another, my darlin’ girl.”
“Mmm, baby, please,” you say, reaching for his jaw to bring his face to yours. Not yielding to your touch completely, he brings himself up slow—the tip of his nose dragging up your naked body, Joel placing open-mouthed kisses up your belly, up your sternum, all the way to your lips, your arousal lingering with his own flavors in a deep, needy kiss.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he says into your lips, nipping your swollen lip before pulling away to let you speak.
“N-need you,” you breathe, desperate. You bring your hands down to his boxer-clad bulge, your fingers causing him to twitch.
Joel tuts, pulling your hand away and bringing it up to the side of your head, his large hand holding it down. “And I need you,” he says, biting your lip again, “to use your words, baby. C’mon,” he urges. Outside of the bedroom, you are very outspoken—this morning’s interaction as evidence—yet, when you find yourself a writhing, moaning mess underneath him, all words are stolen from your brain, all the breath is stolen from your lungs.
“Please,” you start, more determination this time. “I need you inside me, Joel, please fuck me.” You hike your legs higher up, your thighs hugging his waist as you shift your hips, your wet center rubbing against him.
“Such a good girl f’me,” he praises, sitting up to guide his boxers down, leaving you with a complete unobstructed view of his tanned and toned naked body, his soft tummy turning the pupils of your eyes into hearts. He’s so fucking sexy, and, well fuck, you just said that out loud.
Joel blushes, leaning back over you to kiss your forehead and your lips before he’s lining himself up with you, his sensitive tip breaching your entrance at a slow pace, his girth thick enough to stretch you every single time in all your years of marriage.
Your eyes slowly shut as he kisses at your neck. The depth he’s able to reach as he slowly pumps in and out of you, the pubic hairs at his base rubbing against your clit, his deep groans making butterflies erupt in your belly—everything is utterly consuming your body, forcing your already sensitive body to your fourth orgasm of the morning fairly quickly.
Joel is rocking at a steady pace, one hand underneath your lower back while his other cups the back of your head, his fingers rooting themselves into the base of your hair and applying a slight pressure, knowing the sensation drives you absolutely wild. The moan that floats through the air is enough for Joel’s cock to twitch inside of you, threatening to release at any moment. With all his strength, he lifts his head up from your neck to hover above your own, reveling in the furrow of your brows and the needy gasps coming from your throat.
“Darlin’,” he rasps.
“Mhm,” you squeak, unable to form any words.
“Look at me,” he tells you, hips speeding up. He knows he’s only making it harder for you.
Your eyes slowly peel open, but your eyes immediately roll back, the pleasure making your mind go numb.
At your action, Joel is slowing, his hips coming to a near halt. That gets your eyes open. “J-Joel? Baby?” you call, your voice quivering with frustration. You were getting close.
“Need those pretty eyes on me, darlin’,” he explains, his hips only starting back up because of your eye contact.
“Y-yes, baby, okay,” you reply shakily, wanting to do anything for him to continue.
He moves in and out of you again, incorporating a delicious slow grind with every push in. The pleasure is too fucking much, and your eyelids are slipping again even though you’re trying with every ounce of your strength to keep your gaze fixed on him, you fail.
Again, his hips come to a painful stop. “Darlin’,” he warns. “You stop, I stop.”
“I-” you cry. “Joel, I can’t.” Tears pool at your waterline.
His hand comes to your face, his thumb catching the runaway tear. “You can, baby, and you will.” It isn’t a request.
You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping Joel as close to you as possible, his breathing keeping you grounded as you attempt to keep your eyes on his. Satisfied with your attempt so far, Joel starts moving, and this time, he completely lets go. Thrusting into you not too fast or not too slow—and he’s going hard, every push would make you slide slightly up the bed if he weren’t holding onto you the way that he is.
Your eyes flutter, not shutting completely but not staying open, and Joel makes a warning sound, his mouth spewing filth to keep you focused on him.
“Need to see those pretty eyes while you flutter ‘round me.”
“Don’t you wanna be filled? I know you want it—crave it.”
“Keep them eyes on me, babygirl. I’ll give you what you want, just lemme see you.”
“Fuck, Joel, please-!” you scream, your hips thrusting on their own accord, your climax shattering throughout your entire body.
“Thaaat’s it, baby, atta girl,” he moans out, the sensation of you sending his eyes nearly to the back of his head. “Fuckin- give it to me, baby, just like that.”
“Sh- shit, baby, fuck-” you cry, “please, Joel, please.”
“Please what, baby? Use your words,” Joel rushes, chasing his own release as he pushes you through yours.
“Please- please cum inside me, daddy, fuck- needa feel you,” you sob, your fingers gripping onto his back muscles, leaving bright red scratches in their wake as he rails you into the mattress.
“Yeah, baby? I’ll- oh, fuck-” he whines, his balls pull taut, his tummy muscles clenching, and within seconds, he’s cumming inside you, the sticky warmth covering every inch inside of you, leaking out of your entrance as he continues his movements, slowing himself down to a stop.
You two lay there for a moment, your chests heaving against each other. Joel places a kiss to your nose, then your lips, then he’s lifting himself off you, heading to the bathroom. You hear him start a bath.
He comes back after a minute, guiding you to sit up and make your way to the bathroom. He kisses your shoulder. “You alright, darlin’?”
You nod your head yes, a content smile across your features, eyelids heavy. He pulls your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, making you look at him. His signature scowl, the playful version, is on his face. Those damn words, baby, he’s telling you.
“I’m more than alright, baby,” you finally verbalize. “I love you.”
“I love you more, baby,” he kisses your cheek. “My darlin’ girl,” another kiss to your forehead. “My beautiful wife,” your other cheek. He continues on like that until he’s peppered your face in kisses, consuming your body with a love quite like no other. You’re a giggling mess by the time it’s over, begging for him to give you a second to breathe.
Only then when you two settle against each other in the warm, bubbly water, does he ask his burning question.
“Did, uh… did the breakfast help you?”
You take a moment to register how your body feels. It feels light. Not light as in lightheaded or weak—like previous weekends. No, you feel light, warm, content—you feel energized, like you can take on the world right now despite the fact that your legs are still made of jello. You feel good.
“Yeah,” you say. “Helped a lot.”
“Good,” he replies in success, kissing the top of your head before he starts massaging every part of you he can reach.
End note -
I love you, you beautiful humans 🫶🏼
Also, please check out the links highlighted in red on my pinned post to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help 🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
divider in middle of fic made by me, vine graphic at top & bottom made my @/saradika-graphics
@pedrostories
#L's 1k follower celebration#endless thoughts fics#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#smut#pedrostories#drabble#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel x reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller one shot#joel miller x female reader#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou smut
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soulmates but not in a soft romantic way soulmates in a destined to change each other for better or for worse, cannot be who they are without each other, unstoppable together but they’re also the only ones who can defeat each other, equals, existences undeniably tied to each other way
#this post is about lawlight.#soulmates#fanfic trope#non-traditional soulmates give me Life#like YES they NEED each other one cannot EXIST without the other#but they do not LIKE each other!!!!!#make them better!! make them worse!! just drastically alter#lawlight#light yagami#l lawliet#death note#dn tag
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You have no idea how happy I am your requests are open 🥺 can I ask you a blurb or head canon with this prompt + Lando?
constantly touching. always finding reasons to touch each other.
Thank you in advance you are a ⭐
PHYSICAL TOUCH ★ LN4
lando barely touched you at first. he was just a shy boy with a big, embarrassing crush on his friend’s sister. but then something happened and all changed.
it started with his arm touching yours every time he was sitting next to you. lando passed it as pretending to get comfortable, even if there was enough space for both of you on the couch. or when he was standing by your side he would take any opportunity to be as close as possible.
or he would take your hand to compare hand-sizes as an excuse to hold your hand.
and when you started to realize what lando was doing, well, you decided to play his game too. you would pretend to be cold whenever he was around, it was the perfect excuse because he never says no to you, and in reality he was more than happy to wrap his arms around you and cuddle or share a cozy blanket.
lando would even hold your hand to cross the street. he didn’t want anything happening to you. and nobody needs to know that your hand, so soft and warm, fits perfectly with his hand.
lando thought he was being subtle but then his friends started to make fun of him for being so obvious. but he couldn’t care less. you never pulled away when he touched you, and that’s all that mattered to him.
and when you started dating. well… lando took every opportunity to be as close as possible. he would casually kiss you, taking you by surprise, just because he couldn’t resist. he would also put a hand on your body, any part of your body, just to feel you close.
every single one of your friends are so done with you both. they’re so tired of seeing you with your hands around each other, and it’s not even sexual. but that’s just how you and lando are.
#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#lando norris x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 grid x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris drabble#f1 imagine#lando norris fluff#lando norris blurb#lando norris imagine#f1 x reader#l
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The base Y/N design for my soulmate AU!!
#my art#sun#fnaf#au#so(u)l#fnaf security breach#dca#daycare attendant#parts n service#parts and service#y/n#y/n design#I’m debating just posting the fanfic on tumblr until I can get an A03 up then just editing the posts to link to the ao3 later on… I think#that’s what I’m gonna do#teehee anyways cringe is dead#so(u)l art
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Oh Baby | part two
part two.
word count: 10.8k
Warnings: wee bit angsty (an argument), mentions of sex + pregnancy
The repercussions of Lewis' birthday night are not as sweet.
You don't remember anything after your life-changing orgasm. You vaguely recall Lewis standing bare and walking into the bathroom. Your eyes were low and droopy, and you could only offer him a loving smile that had his cheeks burning.
"M'gonna clean you up for a second, okay."
You only hum, allowing him to spread you open; this time, it's not sexual at all; it's romantic. Oh god, you thought. You should've known the sex with Lewis would make you go mad.
He swipes the warm cloth between your legs, wiping the glistening remainder of your arousal away.
The sight of his cum oozing from your hole has him taking a harsh gulp. He'd have to remind you to take whatever precautions you found necessary in the morning.
If you weren't so burned out and exhausted, the sight of him walking around in the nude with his golden and tatted-on skin display would've had you jumping his bones again.
You can't help but laugh at yourself as he returns from cleaning himself up.
"What you laughing about?" He grins, hovering over you. You smile, looking at him like he's hung the moon and the stars. "Myself."
The two of you look like two love-sick high schoolers, completely enamored with each other.
Lewis lowers and captures your lips in a kiss, slow and sweet. One peck after the other before his weight is on top of you. He rolls off of you with a groan, turning you so that you're face to-face with him on your side.
His hand falls to your bare waist, pulling you against him.
"We need t'sleep."
He sits up, chuckling as you whine from losing his body heat. With one arm, he gently hoists your legs up enough to pull the comforter from underneath your body. He is back in his place instantly, the cover now offering another layer of warmth.
You're trying your hardest to keep your eyes open and stay in this moment because you'll probably never get to experience Lewis like this again, this loving and intimate.
"Going to be right here in the morning; go to sleep, bunny."
Like he had a spell over you, your eyes close for the final time, and you feel his palm cup your face.
Lewis can't help but watch you fall into slumber. His finger prods against your face, tracing your mouth, eyebrows, and nose. He could already remember every detail of your face. If he were a blind man, he thinks he'd have no problem telling you apart from the rest of the world.
He didn't think it was possible to love you more than he already does, but feeling the way his heart reacts wildly to you laying flush against him naked and comfortable has him ready to read his (prewritten) vows to you in the morning.
He doesn't want to sleep; he wants to stay here and take it all in. He's probably moving too fast, but he can't wait to tell your friends, your guys' family, hell, even the world, that you love him.
Hearing those words from you detonated the lengthiest, most robust orgasm from him that he'd ever experienced. He'd never come so much, so hard in his life.
Hearing you say you love him in your angelic whimpers, tears falling out the corner of your eyes, holding onto him so tight, fuck, he's hard again just thinking about it.
"I love you," he whispers into the night, kissing your forehead before turning off the lights.
-
You awake first in the morning, dazed and confused. You feel a heavy mass weighing you down. You squint, open your eyes, and you see him. Lewis, your best friend, face nuzzled in your neck, his arm thrown over your waist, holding you tight as if you were going to float away from him in your sleep.
"Oh fuck," you groan lowly as last night's events seep back into you like scenes from a movie.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You gently reach for his arm, carefully lifting it off your body. You pull a pillow from your side, pushing it under his neck as you slide away and gently drop his arm.
You were unsure of how to go about this whole situation. Would he remember it when he woke up? The passionate sex? The beautiful night? You two were off-your-face drunk. Would he laugh at the words you shared? Brush it off. You wouldn't blame him, it'd hurt for you to hear, but logically, it'd make sense; he was in a sex stupor, drunk and horny, and that'd lead to all kinds of words coming out in a daze.
There's no telling how long you stood there like a deer caught in headlights before you began pulling his shirt over your frame. You crept into his closet, thanking God for the array of shoes and clothing of your own filling his space. You tugged on a pair of Nike crew socks and a pair of boyshorts, reaching for the pair of black Ugg Tasmans Lewis had gotten.
You stood in his walk-in closet, staring at yourself in the full mirror, and sighed.
What the fuck were you supposed to do? You were sure you crossed the line this time and abandoned boundaries that were needed in order to keep your feelings at bay. You knew you couldn't keep putting yourself through the same demise.
You didn't know how you would handle the situation when it approached, but in the meantime, you knew you needed to get away from Lewis. You needed to leave his home and be far away from him before you did or said something to ruin your guys' friendship for good.
You creep from the closet quickly, not sparing a glance at the man on the bed; as you grip the handle to his bedroom door, he speaks up from behind you.
He is sat up, back against his headboard, watching you try to leave, "Just going to leave?"
You turn to him awkwardly, hand dropping from the handle, "I-uh, didn't know what you'd want, wasn't sure how to go about-"
"You're not a fucking booty call, Y/n," he says it like you're the most ridiculous person alive like he can't fathom the words coming from your mouth; because he can't.
"Just going to leave me after fucking me? Without a word, while I'm still asleep, that was your plan?"
Your mouth plops open and closed like a fish, searching for the words you stammer out incoherent excuses. Lord, he's got such a dirty mouth.
"Get back in the bed." He cuts you off.
Like a dog to a bone, you stride over to the bed, kicking off your slippers, and you're beside him again.
You're staring at the door, and he is staring at you. The covers hang low over his body, only just covering what had you going crazy last night.
You clear your throat, waiting for him to put you out of your misery. Get it over with, you thought to yourself as you braced for impact.
"Last night was fun," He hummed.
You let out a stifled laugh, finally turning to look at him. His face was still covered in morning haze, and his voice was extra raspy and groggy. He smiles as you, eyes low and droopy.
"I want to address what we-"
You thought you'd be able to take it. You aren't that fucking strong.
"Yeah, no, it's fine." you laugh awkwardly. "I understand. I feel the same way." You don't, but you continue anyway. "We were drunk and in a mad sex stupor, I'm not holding it against you."
"I don't-"
"It was a mistake," you rambled on.
Lewis' mouth plops shut, and he can't tell if his mouth has been dry from his sleep or if the words you're speaking to him have done it.
"You didn't want it?" He question abruptly, putting an end to your nervous break.
"I mean, of course, I wanted it; I initiated it. I was just drunk and turned on; no need to make it a big deal is what I'm saying; we're both off the hook."
Lewis stands from the bed, his bare body on full display. He wants to tell you to shut up and stop downplaying the night he spent with you. He wants you to say to him that you're lying, but you don't, and it's making him angrier as the second goes on.
There are so many sentences he wants to respond to, but he can only grapple with one at a time. You're talking too much, and he's talking too little.
"I was just going to make it easier for you. Usually, you prefer if girls leave, right? That's what you said."
He has said that, but why the fuck would he be talking about you. Why the fuck would other girls include you.
He looks like a wild man, and you look like his blubbering bunny.
"Why do you say shit like that?" He shouts.
His loud tone takes you aback, and your head cranes to watch him incredulously. "What are you talking about?" You fire back.
"You say stupid shit like that all of the time like I'm some kind of fucking manwhore."
You scoff, standing up from the mattress as well. At this point, you are glaring at each other from across the bed.
"You think I don't get enough of it, huh? Do you think I don't get sick of hearing you guys laugh at me? I can't help-"
"I'm not picking at you, Lew, I didn't-"
"But you look at me like that. That's how you feel?"
He wants to know if that is the reason his words went in one ear and out the other.
"Oh please, I've always told you how I feel. If I viewed you as some slut I would've said it." You wave your hand; this had to have been the stupidest argument ever, Lew knew your character, and he knew how much you admired him and his; he'd have to be a fool to think that you'd ever demean him.
"It's not about what you say! It's what you do!"
"Exactly!" you holler back. "I don't fucking laugh at you, Lew! I don't fucking kiki with the rest of the friends when they point out your new fucking flavor of the month! I defend you. You can't control it. You can't help it! You said it yourself it's in your fucking blood to fuck everything with two legs. Like having an itch, you can't scratch. I don't fucking judge you. It's just who you are." You snap. And you hate getting mad because it makes you go on and on.
"Don't even know my character enough to believe I would say some shit about you; supposed to be my best friend, and you can't even properly gauge who I am." It comes out as an angry sneer, and you're right back to slipping on your shoes.
Lewis pulls on a pair of sweats, clamoring over to you; his hand grasps your wrist before you harshly pull it away.
"Last night," he shouts, "I'm not defiling your character; you said it last night."
"Lew, last night." you laugh, you genuinely cackle. "This is because I joked that you ran rabid after leaving Nicole? You did! I was there with you, do you not fucking remember, every night someone new! Just because you slowed down doesn't mean it ever stopped."
"You called me a fucking slut, y/n! Like a fucking bitch, I wouldn't date you, Lew; you're a manwhore." He mocks.
"You called yourself that; I said if the condom fits! You're upset because I said you made it easy for me not to want to be with you? If your ego is bruised, just say that!"
And you're missing the point he is bruised yes, but because he wants you to want him and you don't. Lewis is mad that you don't want to be with him. He is hurt and bothered by the fact that you can brush off the night you spent together like it's nothing.
And you're right; Lewis knows you're right, and he's just trying to find any reason to be mad at you. Of course, you wouldn't return his feelings; when you had them, he gave his affection to other women.
But hearing the person he loves call him out for it doesn't hurt any less. He feels like an idiot now, starting an argument over a situation that wasn't even relevant. He should be telling you he loves you, but now he's gotten you fired up and knows you're hard to diffuse.
You mutter curse words under your breath, frustrated, as your shaking hands keep you from slipping on your shoes. You were never a good angry person, so you'd rather avoid conflict completely. But when your frustrations began ticking inside of you, it was only a matter of time before you finally blew.
"All of this because I answered a fucking question you asked me last night, drunk ass motherfucker! I should've never fucking told you; look where the fuck that's got us, arguing over a relationship that never even happened that we're not even fucking in, so fucking stupid! The fuck do I look like trying to keep a man who doesn't wanna be kept? I'm supposed to wait around and pine after you? No fucking way, I've had my fair share of men like you." You're not saying these words directly to Lewis; he can hear them as you get increasingly frustrated. "Fucking idiot. Calling me out my name because your feelings are hurt; if it was such a fucking issue, you would've addressed it last night. Really you should have fucking addressed everyone else."
Finally, you spin around when the slipper is on, not expecting him to be so close. You jab a finger in his chest, looking up at him. "Yeah, you've pissed me off; this is not because you think I called you a manwhore. You know you sleep around. We all know it; I never said it was a bad thing. What are you really mad at, huh, Lewis? Say it!"
He says nothing, but his brain screams the words over and over: I love you.
You let out a bitter laugh, and you're relatively calm for how fired up you had been seconds ago. "Your anger is misdirected, and I'm not going to take it. So when you figure out what's got you so pissy, talk to me because I'm not here for you to yell at."
You're leaving his room in an instant. He can hear your footfall declining down his stairs and the way you snatch your keys from the hook. You don't slam his door, but from his window, he watches as you angrily march to your car, slamming your door and reversing from his driveway way too fast. It has his heart dropping as you nearly ram into another car.
He sighs as you pull down the street and disappear from his sight. "Fuck!" He roars, his fist shooting into his wall. He lets out a deep breath, his hand coming to rub over his face. Fuck.
He feels choked up and tingly as his eyes water. The two of you had never fought this bad, which says a lot, especially for how long you've been friends. He's never called you out of your name, and today he called you a bitch. You were far from a bitch, you were his sweet bunny.
You just wanted to make sure he was comfortable and that you stayed within the bounds. How were you to know that he didn't want you to leave?
You're a mess as you drive home, tears streaming down your face. Surprised you even made it there safely.
When you're home and starting your shower, you see all of the evidence Lewis left behind on your skin, and it breaks you down into a fit of tears. You wish you had never crossed the lines because you were sure the two of you wouldn't return from this.
-
Lewis has yet to contact you. It's been two weeks since that day. You tried to go about life as normal, but it was hard when you had spent every waking day talking to Lewis. You hadn't seen Roscoe since Lewis' birthday either, and that tore an entirely new part of your heart. Roscoe was like your child; he was with you when Lewis had to be on the road, so essentially, you spent an abundance of time with your four-legged friend.
You could reach out to him, but you'd be dammed if you put your pride to the side to alleviate your best friend's superiority complex.
He yelled at you, calling you out of your name first. Call it childish, but it wasn't your job to apologize first. Of course, you planned on apologizing for your own actions, for calling him an idiot, because you truly regretted it, and it has been hanging heavy over your head ever since then. But he had to give in first.
You haven't gone out with your friends as a group since then either, opting to go on your regular outing with one or two of them at a time. You've seen in Miles' story that Lewis has been out with them many times. You try not to cry as you see Lewis in the background of a video chatting up another girl in Daniel's close friends. After the initial gloom, you felt infuriated.
Here you were giving him grace, withholding time with your friends so as not to make him uncomfortable and to give him time to come to his own senses and the whole time, he's out committing the same crime that made him blow up at you. Here you were suffering because after all of these years, he still didn't show you the same grace he shows others when it comes to communicating. Why does he shut down when it comes to you but is so vocal and mature with his feelings to other people. Two things were obvious, you weren't kids anymore, and he wasn't to be coddled by you anymore. And secondly, you were done making deluded excuses for this man. He'd take accountability when it came to you.
-
Lewis awakes with his head pounding; he is in a random hotel, a random woman atop his chest in deep slumber. He sneaks from the bed, searching for his phone and tugging on his clothes.
He was drunk off his ass and chatting her up because she looked like you, and in the end, when they made it back to her room, he couldn't get hard without thinking about you, and by that time, he was over it, not wanting to do anything with the woman at all. You really fucked him up.
When Lewis arrives home, he is barely sober. He pours food into Roscoe's bowl, rubbing his head.
Roscoe has been feeling the impact of your departure, too. Could Lewis even say you left him? He sighs as Roscoe whines, nudging your walking shoes left by the front door. "I know, boy. I miss her too."
Lewis didn't know why he couldn't just call you and tell you he was sorry. You left the ball in his court, so obviously, you were open to having a mature conversation with him. But as the days went on and he still hadn't called, he began to realize that perhaps he had waited too long, and it was doing more damage than good.
He stumbles up to his room, stripping from his clothes and plopping onto his bead, Roscoe is up and beside him in an instant, snuggling into his side. Like routine, his hand reaches over to his nightstand, rustling through the stack of papers until he finds one of the many letters you'd gifted him for his birthday.
Lewis always kept your letters, especially when he was far away and traveling; nothing made him happier as a kid than his dad arriving with handwritten messages for him when you couldn't make it to his races. Your birthday gift, though, was a collection of unsent letters you'd had for years, dating back to as early as high school. He reread them all, scanning every word like they were the bible. He never told you this, but he kept them in a folder that traveled everywhere with him when he had to be gone for longer periods of time.
The letter he rereads now has been attached to him since the day you left, which was from your second year in high school.
Hello Lewis,
I won't be able to make it to your race next week. Get this, I'm on punishment at sixteen years old! You're always getting me in trouble, and you're not even here :( Do you remember Henry Glasgow? Let's just say he's finally gotten what he deserved. No matter what anyone says, your work is paying off, and you're doing great! I saw you on the TV the other day, and boy, did you look great out there. Mum recorded it for me, so I rewatch it so many times a day like a weirdo. I miss you tons, Lew, but I'm so very happy that you were able to get out of this forsaken city. Don't worry; I'm still defending your honor while you're away; let Henry's nose be proof of that. I've made a friend since you've gone away, her name's Whitney but I call her whit whit just like you're my lewlew; I can't wait for you to meet her. She's very bold and different from what we're used to, but she's a sweetheart. I love her to pieces, but I love you wholly, so she's not really doing much to heal how much I miss you, Lew. This is the longest we've been away from each other, and although we talk on the telly every day, I would like to be with you again. But nevertheless, I am so very proud of you, and I support you full send. I know you can be the greatest you already are if you ask me. But I can't wait until the world knows your name. Just promise you won't leave me behind when it does, yeah? Keep moving fast; Pops likes to brag about you everywhere we go, and I love to hear anyone hype you up like you deserve; plus, I bet twenty bucks on you to win next week, and my allowance is already gone, so make me some money. I can only give you the same words of encouragement you've heard a million times, I am truly my father's daughter. You're a cheetah, Lew: move silently and let your actions do the talking. Make quick decisions, but move even quicker. I know it's hard, but don't ever let what they say get to you; you've got a greater mission to accomplish. There are people out there who admire you and have faith in you. Let me be proof of that. Always remember that what you can't say, I will.
Love you more than you'll ever know, Lew.
p.s tell Nico that unless he wants me to go broke, he needs to push it a little harder.
From Bunny. <3
-
One day of no contact became a week, and a week became a month; soon, he was in the Middle East racing in the first grand prix of the season two months later, and he still hadn't heard from you. He was racing terribly, and he couldn't even blame it on the car. On the track, he wasn't focused; he could only think about you. And that had put him into the wall (literally) more times than he could count. He had let the best person in the world slip from his grasp, and his mind couldn't grasp that.
His friends knew something was up between the two of you and for the first time ever they decided not to meddle, and he appreciated it just as he was sure you did too. That didn't mean that he didn't ask about you.
Every call home to his mum he asks about you. He sits on the phone with your dad listening to updates on your life. They never question anything between you and him so he assumes you haven't disclosed your argument to anyone. But they know, they always know.
He could tell you were taking every step in order to ensure that you wouldn't run into him. When your family came out to see him you were miracously always busy with work. When your friends invited you out you were never feeling well.
He felt bad that you felt you had to sacrifice your enjoyment just to not be around him.
He revels in the glimpses he gets of you on your friends story, chuckles at the constant pictures Daniel posts of you that you obviously wouldn't have agreed to. He knows you probably threatened to kill him everytime. He likes every picture.
He nearly cries as he watches you from a fan account, bouncing Nicholas up and down as he places on podium in one of his own races.
Your dad's birthday was next week, and he knew you weren't going to miss it. He also knew he wasn't going to skip out on your father, so he mentally prepared himself to be a man and get his shit together. There was no way you could avoid him when you were stuck with him for a week.
*
You, Miles, and Nicholas had been out and about all day exploring the town before you finally decided to head back to the villa. When you three initially left, everyone else was bunkering down for a post-flight nap.
When you opened the door, you froze in your tracks as you saw Lewis hugging your dad in greeting. You don't know why you figured he wouldn't show, but when he wasn't on the flight with the rest of you guys, it had your hopes high.
Everyone's head swivels toward the front door as you emerge, he makes eye contact with you and even goes as far to offer you a smile. You don't return it. Nicholas rushes pass you to hug his brother jostling the many bags in your arm as he passes by.
Lewis hugs him, but his eyes once again fleet back to you.
You suck your teeth, looking away from him and waltzing up the stairs and towards the back of the house where you had claimed your room.
You hardly had the time or the energy to worry about Lewis. You were tired, and the Brazilian heat had you going through it. You kick your bedroom door closed and drop your bags onto your bed.
All you had to do was get through a week of being in his presence. You had your friends and family here with you. It wouldn't be too hard to stay away from him. You shower and then get dressed right in time for dinner.
The sun was still out by the time you descended the stairs; everyone had been lounging around in the living room waiting for you to finish.
Lewis feels like a starved bear as the dress sways against your thighs. Like always, you look beautiful.
"And the princess has arrived!" Your cousin shouts, "Girl, hurry your ass up, we've been waiting on you. I'm hungry." The room erupts in laughter as you pause on the stairs and shoot her the middle finger.
"Doesn't the princess deserve a grand entrance?"
Your head immediately turns to Lewis as if you can feel his stare on you. He sits, legs spread open, hands folded in his lap, and looks at you like he had had the night of his birthday. Like he wants to devour you.
You shake the memory from your head as everyone heads out of the door and piles into the three sprinters out front.
"Aw, twins!" Whit coos, pointing between you and Lewis, "So in sync."
You let out the fakest laugh he's ever heard, wiping the smile clean from his face, "Ah ha ha, let's go."
When it's your time to pass through the door, you feel a presence behind you, and you know it's Lewis as his signature cologne wafts through your nostrils. As you descend down the front steps, you feel his hand come up to rest against your lower back.
A part of you wants to tell him to back up and that you don't need his assistance, but the soft spot you'll always have for him has you accepting his graces.
You freeze, watching as two of the three vehicles pull off, fuck.
So much for being able to avoid him.
You can still feel him hot on your trail as you waddle to the last sprinter. You're helped up by the driver, offering him a sweet smile. Ironically enough, the last two seats are side by side in the back row.
You groan internally, slipping into the seat by the window. Lewis follows after you, slipping between you and Miles.
"So what? This is the kid's bus?" You joke, leaning over the seat in front of you to tug on your cousin's braids. "Be happy it is." She grins, pulling a bottle of Clase Azul from the floor. Everyone erupts into cheers as she passes the bottle around. She hands it to you first, but you quickly pass it on to Lewis. You hadn't drunk alcohol since that night, and when you tried, the smell of it physically made you sick. You were convinced that the stress of that night had made your brain repel your favorite pastime.
"Girl." Whitney gasped, "You're not drinking?"
"Hell no, I gag just thinking about that shit."
It's been so long since Lewis last heard your voice and seen you so carefree he wants to shout out his praises as you start a conversation within the van.
Your leg is flush against his, your thigh rubbing against his own with every jostle you take down the bumpy roads.
You don't speak to Lewis throughout the entire ride. When he speaks, you tune into your phone or manage another conversation with those around you. Though it does bring you an unwanted sense of comfort to hear his childlike giggles again. You'd missed them just as much as you missed him.
This time, when the doors open, they are opened on your side, and you cheerfully hop out, wrapping your arms around your girls and skidding to the dock where you can see a great portion of your family and friends already loaded onto the yacht.
You loved celebrating; it was no secret you were the life of the party anywhere you went, which is why you were always so grand when it came to spending time with the people you loved. Life is beautiful, as your father would say; you might as well live like it.
Lewis and the guys exit behind you all, he watches you scamper off with that stunning smile on your face waving to the family members and friends you hadn't saw yet.
An hour goes on of everyone mixing and mingling; your family is technically Lewis' as well, so it's no surprise when he is pulled into hugs and smooches left and right. It makes it easy to avoid him every time you sense him getting closer. You see him catching up with your grandparents, aunt, uncles, and cousins.
He is close to your entire family, which made it even more annoying for you to be asked about Lewis in damn near every conversation. You were never nasty about it because, after all, you two shared the same relationships, so you simply smiled and directed your family toward him with every inquiry. You didn't expect his relationship with your family to end just because you two weren't...you two?
And then another wave of questioning is aiding in your irritated mood, we're the two of you even best friends anymore. Best friends don't go months without speaking to each other.
Lewis can't help but watch your every move. It's obvious to everyone that there is a lingering tension between you two. There has never been a moment where the two of you weren't connected at the hip. So, the safe distance you're keeping between the two of you is making questions arise. He is standing off to the side, his mind running; he's never once felt like an outsider in your life more than now. His feelings were hurt because, for the first time, he was getting updates about you from others rather than being the one dishing the facts out. He's used to knowing everything when it comes to you, and now it feels like he's chapters behind in a book everyone else is close to finishing.
"I know my daughter." Your dad speaks up from behind Lewis as he watches him watch you. Lewis turns his head, catching sight of your father before walking and leaning his back onto the railing beside him. "And I know you just as well; why are you two acting like divorcée?"
"What's happened, my boy?"
Lewis shakes his head, eyes downcast to the glass in his hand. He couldn't tell your father that he'd spent the night of his birthday making love to you and having the most romantic twilight he'd ever experienced. He couldn't tell him that he spewed out his true feelings in the midst of it and fucked shit up the next morning.
"We haven't talked in months," Lewis admits.
Your dad leans away from Lewis, eyes set in disbelief. "Months?"
Lewis only nods, looking straight ahead at you. You're standing with his father infront of a group, his arm thrown over your shoulder, yours wrapped around his waist, his father is obviously a wee bit tipsy as he laughs boisterously, you're supporting his frame throwing in side comments to whatever story his father was telling.
"Do you want to talk to her?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then why are you not?" He inquires like it's all so simple.
"Because it's your daughter," he scoffs. "And when she's mad, she's mad. It's not that easy."
You father laughs, "She is her mother's daughter." He corrects. "You know her, eventually she always puts her pride to the side. She's waiting for you to talk to her first. Have you tried."
"No, sir."
He lets out a boisterous laugh that has a sheepish smile skittering onto Lewis' face.
"You're too old to still be scared of my baby. My best advice is this: you lot know each other better than anyone in the world and love each other more than anyone in the world. If you think she's willing to give that up and vice versa, you're both idiots."
Lewis nods. They stand in contemplative silence as the older man's hand comes up to clap against his shoulder, where he holds onto Lewis as they sip from their glasses.
"You know," Lewis lights up, "that's where she gets that shit from; she called me an idiot when we argued."
"And were you being an idiot?" He queries.
"Well, Yes, sir."
"Okay then." He walks away not sparing so much as another word to Lewis and he is once again left alone.
You were relieved when dinner started, only to approach the table and see name cards posted in front of every seat. Just your luck. Right next to your seat, the postcard next to you reads Sir Lewis.
This time, you physically couldn't control your reaction as you threw your hands on your hips, your eyes searching for someone to switch with. Just as you reached over to swap Lewis' and Anthony's place cards, the group approached, and everyone stared at you with inquisitive eyes as you slowly dropped them back into place.
You smiled, sliding into your designated seat, eyes straight ahead as your father and Lewis slipped into their own.
Lewis side-eyes you as he sees that it was his name you tried to swap. You were always so petty.
You feel his stare on you and give him your back to face as you focus on your father who stands tapping his wine glass with a knife.
Like always your father begins to give a speech. You loved listening to him speak, even if he was lecturing you, he always managed to engrain some life lesson into your memory.
"Welcome, family and friends. I want to first start off by saying I appreciate you all for coming; if you're here today, you're either family or a friend, so in the end, that makes you all family. No matter when or how I met you, you have touched a special place in my heart, and you've made this life of mine beautiful. We've all become connected somewhere along the line, and now, hopefully, we're stuck with each other for the rest of our lives. As each year goes on and I grow older with it, I am reminded of just how meaningful it is to carry relationships on with you from one year to the next. We've done that." He laughs.
"Most of us have been in each other's lives since the beginning, Anthony has been my best friend since we were nine." He chuckled tilting his glass at Lewis' dad. Anthony raises his own right back at him.
"We've done everything together, damn near walked through each part of our lives together. He had a son, and months later, I had my daughter. Bam!" he laughs, and the table laughs with him. You smile at the mention of your father and his best friend; they were truly a pair like no other.
"Our friendship continues on through our children; we pass on our camaraderie; through our kids, we get more kids." He motions around to your friends. "And our family is even bigger. I've got my family, I've got my wife's family, Anthony's family, our children's family, and we're all now family. We've got each other for life! We're proof of that; we stick together and treat each other right, and if we don't, we always find our way back together again and start over because that's what a family does. Every year, you guys show up for me, and I show up for you. And I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday than with you. Life is beautiful and even more beautiful when you're spending it with the right people. So I thank you for being the right people."
There are no dry eyes after his speech. You reach over to hug him when he sits, pressing your lips to his cheek. "I love you, Dad."
Chatter emerges as everyone marvels at your dad's words. To your left, Lewis is quite emotional. His dad's arm comes up to pull his son into his side, and for the first time today, you watch him with no shame. He looks like a kid again in his dad's arms as he gets emotional, and your heart breaks.
It's not in your character to be mean to Lewis. You know this, which is why you haven't even bothered being a bitch to him, even though a part of you desperately craves to hurt his feelings like yours has been for the last two months. You pull your phone from your purse, and before you unlock it, his reflection glares at you from your blank screen. He isn't facing you but staring blankly ahead, and your resolve crumbles slightly.
He looks like little Lew, face set in a frown and tuned out to the world around him. You think back to all of the times he'd get into his own head, bothered about why the other kids didn't talk to him and why they were nasty to him when they did. How many times he's nestled into you the same way when he felt his heart take a hit.
He's always been a softie. Wearing his heart on his sleeve, it was one of the things you admired about him so much. His ability to let people see him fully. You were never good at that. If you were, you could gaurantee that you and Lewis wouldn't even be in this situation to begin with.
You are sure that you can hear your heart beating rapidly as you reach down and grasp onto his hand. You pretend to scroll mindlessly through your phone when you hear his breath hitch. Lewis struggles to keep his resolve as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He could cry again right now.
Your dad was right; he'd always been right. You think back to the times when you were younger when you would tell him why you and Lewis were sitting so far apart.
"Baby," he would lift your head with a gentle smile, "You know how many times Anthony got on my damn nerves or we had a quarrel, even with your mother. Just have to talk it out, right? That's the kind of friendship you don't let slip away, no matter what. And if he's mad at you, you fight for him. If you're mad at him, you fight for him. Don't ever let something ruin it when you could fix it before it gets bad."
When the food comes out, your stomach flips, sushi lines the table, and your insides feel like they're being shaken. You snatch your hand from Lewis' and toss it over your mouth as the fish is placed in front of you.
"Baby, you love sushi." Your dad says, pushing your plate away from you.
"I don't know what-" You don't finish your sentence rushing away from the table in a put together manner, you hurry to the other side of the boat where you make it just in time to empty your stomach. Nothing comes out as you dry heave over the water. A hand comes to rub at your back and your hair is being held back.
"Hey, you okay?" It's Lewis and his tone is full of concern as his hand constanly moves in caring circles.
You jump away from his comforting hands, throwing a glare in his direction.
"What do you want?" you hiss, preparing to step down from the altitude of the railing.
He holds out his hand ready to help you down and you almost reach for it before huffing and turning baack around folding your arms over the railing. If the sushi wasn't going to have you throwing up Lewis prescence surly would. You felt overwhelmed as he speaks up from behind you.
"Wow."
"Wow, what, Lewis?"
"So I'm Lewis now?"
"Is that not your name?" You snap back.
You feel his body heat behind you, this time closer.
"Not to you, you know that though."
"Nicknames are for friends."
"Shut up." He smacks his teeth.
"No!" you argue, turning around your chest bumps into his, "You shut up!"
you both childishly bicker back and forth.
“What are you being mean to me for, huh? Don't say that."
"I've got a right to be mean to you."
"I don't got time for your nasty ass attitude right now." He says.
"Good. The fuck." you ramble, turning around, "nobody asked you to follow me."
"I followed you because you're still my best friend, stubborn ass."
"Couldn't tell." You rebutted.
"See, I'm trying to talk to you, y/n. Why say something like that? Stop acting like-." He groans.
"Like what, like a bitch?" You look at him over your shoulder, watching his face drop. "That's what I thought."
"I wasn't about to call you a bitch."
Yeah, again, you think.
You stand in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the water sloshing against the boat.
"Your dad has a knick for speeches." He announces, "Always targeting us, huh?"
"That's my dad for you."
"I-, you're still my best friend, that will never change. No matter how long we go without talking to each other."
"I know." It comes out as a sigh and you let out a groan, dropping your head into your folded arms.
"Why didn't you call me?" You ask, "I waited for you to call."
"I was scared, I knew I fucked up, and I think us having sex created a weird dynamic with it. I kinda felt like a booty call or something, I don't know; you trying to leave triggered something in me, made me feel like it wasn't..."
He lets out a sigh, and you know he has that hard thinking face on. "meaningful what we did together." He finally concludes.
"I thought that's what you would've wanted, I'm sorry."
"For other people, yes. But not my best friend."
And there are those two words again, like two blades slicing you in half, best friend, that's all you'd ever be.
Lewis was your best friend, nothing less, nothing more. This is all it'd ever be, and that thought alone, although valid, had you knuckling at your eyes.
"You okay, bunny?"
You can't help the sad smile that appears or the way your heart flutters at the nickname; no matter the situation, you'll always be his bunny.
You slump back against his chest as you step back from the railing. "I'm fucking dying," you whine, and he laughs at your dramatics.
"You're not dying, love." He chuckles. He stands flush behind you, one arm coming around to dangle off your shoulder, the other holding your hand at your side. "How are you going to tell me?" You huff, and it seems as if nothing ever happened between you two as he turns you around and holds you close; he throws both of his arms over your shoulder, wrapping you into his tight embrace, and your face is crammed in his neck, breathing in his scent.
And in that moment, you both could've sworn fireworks erupt in the sky as your hearts beat against each other's chest. It feels like the missing piece in your lives from the last two months has been returned, and the machine is running excellently.
"Because I know you, what's wrong, huh? Got a tummy ache." He coos. And his soft, caring tone has your stomach doing flips.
You don't know how long you stand there in his embrace before you finally wrap your arms around his torso.
"I'm still mad at you." You declare.
"I know."
"I still want an apology."
"I'm sorry."
You feel your nausea ease away as you sway to the beat of his heart against your chest.
This is the first moment of relief Lewis has felt in two months, his heart is not in a panicked state and his mind is even better off.
"I'm sorry for calling you an idiot. It's been bothering me since I said it." You announce, "I don't think you're an idiot. I still think you're the smartest person in the world."
Your eyes water as you apologize, and Lewis hears the sniffle you let out. You remember how much it hurt your heart to see Lewis struggle to catch on in school as a kid, the words the teachers would spit at him, and how he'd let it get to him. You never wanted to make him feel the same way.
"I don't want you to think of me like the rest of them."
Lewis grasps your shoulders, inching you away softly, "I'd never look at you that way," he declares. "I was being an idiot, I know how you meant it, bunny. I should be apologizing for what I said to you. I don't think you were being a bitch; I've never in my life thought about you that way or even remotely considered calling you out of your name. I was just mad."
His hands come up to cup your face, and his thumbs swipe away the wetness underneath your eyes. He sighs, pulling you back into him. "I don't ever wanna not talk to you again, fucked me up."
"But you never called me."
"Didn't think you wanted me to, didn't know what to do, you'd never been that mad at me before, was scared." He admitted.
"I thought you were finally done with me."
"Never that."
"Are we okay?" You examine.
"We're always going to be more than okay. It feels right with me still, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Okay then, we're back like it never happened." He assured.
And he thinks he can stay like this forever, you in his arms as the sunsets on the boat. He can't think of anything more peaceful than watching the sky change colors and the warm hues making your skin glow in the softest way as he revels in the comfort of your warm body and beating heart.
He wants to unleash his feelings right then and there, "I love you."
"I love you more."
You both speak honestly, wishing that the other would return the same affection. Your parents watch on from above.
"Wouldn't know if it hit them over the head." Your mom shakes her head sipping her wine.
"So in their face." Anthony exhales, throwing his hand up, "Mhmm, mhm, mhm."
"Those are our kids, damn idiots." Your dad finishes, but unlike his counterparts, he wears a knowing smile on his face.
-
"There are a few things we need to clarify before we move on from this." You announce before you rejoin your family and friends.
"What's that?"
"That was a one-time thing for the sake of our friendship; no more sex, no more mentioning it; it never happened."
Lewis freezes in his spot, his arm falling from your shoulder as you take another step. You, too, freeze, turning around to take him in.
He is standing, his eyes furrowed like he's in deep thought.
That would be an easy rule for him to follow if he wasn't struggling as you speak to think about anything other than you every day and how great you felt around him.
"What?" You question.
"I-" he coughs, "I can do that."
"Don't make it weird." You warn, eyeing him.
"Was the best sex I've ever had in my life, though." He admits with a smirk. You push him away as he tries to wrap his arm around you again.
"Goodbye, Lewis." You laughed, walking ahead of him.
He happily stays behind you, watching the way your bottom moves in the dress, and once again, he feels the same burning desire. He could get by without mentioning it if you wanted, but he was absolutely and completely sure you ruined him for anyone else.
Ever since he could remember, his passionate moments never ensued without you flickering through his mind at least once to jump-start him. But actually having you, God he was sure he'd never see another woman again.
As you rejoin everyone else at the front of the boat, you once again see everyone spread out, and you realize just how long you'd been marveling at Lewis' presence as you notice the appearance of the moon.
You gasp as you see a serving bowl full of mango calling your name as you pass by the treat table. You pick it up with ease, stuffing your mouth as you approach your friends who, like always, have banded together in their own little world.
You make eye contact with Whitney, who is looking at you in pure wonder. You shoot her your own look of inquisition. When you take the empty seat beside her, she is still eyeing you like you have two heads.
"Girl, what?" you whisper, your mouth full of mango.
She shakes her head at you, turning and muttering under her breath. You slap her bare thigh, "what?" you whisper shout.
"We'll talk about it later." She declares, throwing back two shots back to back.
"Whit," you whine, "you know I hate when you do that."
"Yeah, but trust me, later is better."
You sigh, turning away from her and getting back to eating your fruit as Lewis approaches the group and takes the seat beside Mori. "Someone’s happy." Miles teases.
You look up at him, and sure enough, there is a shit-eating grin covering his face. "More than happy."
Whit is still mumbling to herself as you stare back at Lewis, when you look at her she is digging through her bag, "No, there's just now way."
-
Sure enough, as soon as you make your way back to the villa, Whitney is dragging you away from the rest of the group and into your bedroom. Lewis shoots you a questioning look as she yanks you from your seat. You can only shrug at him as you trip over your own two feet.
She opens the door to your connecting bathroom, waving her arms for you to enter dramatically after you just stand there and stare at her.
"Ouu, girl." You warn, walking past her, "I need you to start using some words."
When you step foot into the bathroom, she pushes something into your palm.
You angle your head down, realizing that what lies in your hand is a pregnancy test. You throw it at her in shock. "Eww bitch."
"It's not used, dummy." Whit catches it.
You gasp, reaching for her hands, "Oh my god! Are you pregnant?" You whisper shout, excitement seeping through.
"No!" She shouts back in a whisper closing your bathroom door. Your hands are cupped in front of your chest like an exicited child. She turns to face you again only this time she's adorning the most serious look she's ever given you.
"I think you are, though."
Your hands drop down to your sides, one going to your hip that pokes out as you scoff.
"Whit." It's all you say.
"Y/n. Please just take it, ease my mind."
"What even makes you think I could be pregant whit." You huff pulling the stick from her waiting hand.
She sits on the side of the bathtub as you lift your dress and plop down onto the toilet.
"You've been feeling out of it for a while; at first, I thought it was the heat, but you've been having nausea and headaches long before this trip. The smell of alcohol makes you sick, and you're a fucking alcoholic, c'mon now-"
"I am not a fucking alcoholic-"
"The sushi! You fucking love sushi. Out of everything to eat, an entire fucking serving bowl of mangoes, so many fucking mangoes, Y/n!"
As she continues, you begin to feel nerves bubble in your gut as you tinkle onto the test.
Your heart drops to your ass as you put the pieces together.
You haven't had a period in two months, which didn't raise any alarms before; irregularity was common for you. But now that you think about it, you have been unusually sick in the mornings and around certain foods and smells. You have been craving some things more than usual, and your scale shows a tiny bit of weight gain.
Two months ago you had sex with Lewis. With no condom, and he came inside of you. He most definitely fucked his cum back into you. The memory has you clutching your chest with a gasp that made Whit reach out to catch you just in case you toppled over.
"Oh my fucking god." you gasp, pulling the stick from beneath you and tossing it onto the sink. You wipe yourself and then stand to wash your hands.
"Oh fuck." you panic, and your hands are coming up to grasp your head.
"On the bright side, if it's positive, you're a mommy. You've always wanted to be a mom!" Whit cheers softly.
You turn to her with quickness. "Yes, Whit! When I'm fucking married and settled down, not when I fucking-"
The alarm tone from Whit's phone has you shutting up mid-sentence.
"I set the alarm when you peed," she whispered meekly.
She motions for you to pick up the test, and you wanna tell her to get out when you see the excitement covering her face.
You reach behind you, hand tapping blindly against the counter until the stick is in your hand.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose.
When you open your eyes, you see the result clear as day, which has you clutching your pearls.
"I'm going to pass out, I can't breathe."
"Let me see!" Whit all but shouts, jumping up, but you're already reaching for the door handle.
"Where are you going?" She shrieks as you swing the door open, leaving her behind.
"I need to tell Lewis."
"Oh boo," she pouts, "I understand he's your best friend and all, but at least tell me first, I'm the one who brought the test."
You turn to her with watery eyes and a look that tells her all she needs to know.
"Lewis is the baby's father?" She whisper shouts, jumping back like you've thrown cold water in her face.
"What the fuck? When did you sleep with fucking Lewis?" She ponders aloud. "Oh my god, is this why you two haven't been you two?"
"Whit," you groan. "I promise, I don't have the mental capacity to unpack all of this with you right now. There's a fucking baby growing inside of me, my best friend's baby and I don't know what to do with myself."
"Yeah," she nods sympathetically, "I'm sorry, yeah. You talk to Lewis and when you're ready I'll be here for you to lean on." She pulls you into a hig before grasping you by the shoulders.
"Whatever you decide just remeber it's your choice, okay? You call the shots Y/n. You know I'll support you either way, and you know Lewis, he'll understand."
You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with the back of your palm.
"Get yourself together, mama, I'm going to send him in, okay?"
You nod and rush over to your closet. You pull a pair of sweats on and then pull off your dress and toss on an oversized hoodie.
There is a knock on your door before it gently creaks open. Lewis pokes his head through with a gentle smile.
"Hey, everything okay? Whit told me to meet you in here, I didn't know if she wanted to strangle me or hug me, but she said it was urgent."
You shove the pregnancy test into the pocket of your hoodie, stepping out of the closet.
He enters the room, gently closing the door. He approaches you with his arms already open, seeing the teary expression.
"Lewis, can you actually sit down for me. I have to talk to you about something."
He's not sure what he expects to come from your mouth, but it wasn't what he heard.
"I'm pregnant. It's yours."
You surely weren't expecting him to look so relieved. "Why are you looking so-"
"Are you sure?"
You scoff, crossing your arms, "Yes, I'm sure it's yours, you dick. I don't sleep around-"
"What, no! Are you positive that you're pregnant?"
"Oh." You halt, and you pull the test from your hoodie, watching as he approaches you. He takes it from your hands, looking at it with sparkling eyes, "Wow."
"Wow?" You question, "Lewis, I'm pregnant with your child. Freak out a little."
"Why," he asks, "Are you freaking out? How do you feel?" His eyes are no longer on the test in his hands but staring intently into yours.
"Yes, I am freaking out, there is a fetus in my womb."
"Yeah, yeah." He breathes. "Whew, talk to me. What do you want?"
"I- I want to." You shake your head, pushing past him to sit on your bed. He follows after kneeling in front of you and placing the test beside you.
"I am with whatever you want, you know that, right?"
"Yes, but."
"But nothing," Lewis states. "If you want to keep our baby, you keep it. I know you've always wanted a family."
"Exactly," you sigh, "a family."
"Bunny, we're already a family. I'll be there you know I will."
"What about everyone else? What will they say?"
"I don't care about other people or what they have to say. I only care about you and what you want."
"I want to keep it, and I understand if it's not something you want. Won't hold it against you; you didn't ask for-"
"You're losing me. I'm not just going to let you raise our kid on your own. I want people to know it's my child."
"Lewis, they're going to-"
"Once again, I don't care what people think."
"Oh my god, I'm going to be prancing around all jolly and happy carrying your child, and when people ask, I'll just say, oh yeah, Lewis and I had very erotic sex, and now I'm carrying his illegitimate child."
"Don't call my child illegitimate. What the fuck?" He smacks his teeth.
"My child," you state, mushing his head back.
His hands reach up and rest on each of your thighs. "Our child."
"Still illegitimate," you sigh. "What if I find a man who'll marry me pregnant? Does that still-"
"I'm the Dad." Lewis asserts, he knows you're joking, but the idea of another man marrying you, let alone claiming his child, has him ready to kill a man who doesn't even exist. Besides, he would marry you in a heartbeat.
This is all too real for you at the moment, and you find yourself letting out another whine, "My job, I have a job, Lew."
"You and I both know that I make more money than I can spend." He assures you, his hands now rubbing up and down your legs.
He looks like an excited puppy waiting at your feet.
"Lew, that's not realistic."
"Why not?" He scoffs.
"Because what if one day you start hating me and them I'm left alone with-"
"That could never happen, bunny, that'll never happen."
"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. I've never had a baby before."
He laughs, pulling himself up onto the bed beside you and cupping your hands in his. "We'll figure it out together. Gonna be the best parents in the world."
"Our parents are going to die." You laugh.
"Your mom probably overheard the others chatting about how we'd probably end up having a family one day."
"My dad still thinks we're going to marry each other one day. Ew, he's going to know I had sex with you." You cringe.
"Don't say it like you didn't enjoy it." He feigns offense.
"We know who enjoyed it more, Sir."
"I'm not denying it, don't call me that." His arm reaches back and pulls one of your pillows onto his lap.
"You horny fuck." You cackle, watching the sheepish look blanket his expression.
"I can't help it; you're calling me sir; you're carrying my child. That's two kinks in one."
"Lewis!" you shriek, whacking him with your own pillow.
"You do realize having sex has brought a lot of sexual tension to the surface, or is that just me?"
You could talk about things with Lewis that would make other people uncomfortable without there being any problems at all.
"It was very charged." You agree, looking back at him as he leans back, his elbows holding him up.
"Just charged? I gave you my all, Girl." He flicks your head.
"Don't hit me, I'm with child." You joke, and he lets out a genuine laugh, his head falling back. "If I'm being honest, it was the best sex I've ever had, too."
He smirked at you, shrugging his shoulders like it's no big deal. "Yeah, get told that a lot, so."
You snatch the pillow from his lap launching it at his face as you laugh with him, "I bet. I always thought if we were to have kids they'd be best friends like us, now we're having a kid together."
Lewis always hoped that he had kids with you, so in a way this was a dream come true, he was one step closer to having you in every way he wanted. He had an inkling now that the possibility of the two of you being together was becoming more realistic than it'd ever been.
You were agreeing to bring a life into this world with him, and he knows he's said it a million times, but this time he was absolutely sure, there was nothing and he means nothing that could ever make his love for you fade. He'd never stop loving you, if anything this announcement has made his desires increase tenfold.
And he could only hope it'd possibly open your eyes to your own, there was no way a person could speak to another like that if it wasn't real. There was no way you could be so open to bringing a child into this world with him if you didn't treasure him too.
Case in point, Lewis was done waiting on the sidelines.
I luv luv luv y'all.
so here's part two!
I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
#black reader#L#lewis hamilton#formula 1#formula one#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#lewis ham#lewis hamilton imagine
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Red Stains
You've got a new lipstick and can't wait to test out the color,
on his face.
✧ — Character x F!Reader
✧ — 16+, MDNI, suggestive themes, established relationships, soft fluff, touchy, marking
✧ — Requested by Wytchie Pie.
✿ Masterlist
✿ Request a fic
𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃
While Caleb was in the living room playing his video game, you walked in with a new lipstick. It was hard not to tease him more when you saw how committed he was to the game. Reaching him from behind the couch, you put your arms around his neck and raised his chin to meet your gaze. You leaned down to give his left cheek a kiss. Then you hurried out of the room.
Though a little taken aback, Caleb simply grinned to himself and carried on playing the game. Not even your scarlet lipstick on his cheek did he notice.
After a while, you returned to the room. You interrupted his match again like the first time and gave him another kiss, this time on the right cheek. With a scowl, Caleb warned you: "Don't be naughty."
But you did not listen. You went into the bathroom again to apply another layer of lipstick. When would he find out that his face was covered with your lip stains? He had such a cute and goofy expression. Should you not tell him, would people laugh at him when he got out at last?
Being laughed at was his punishment. For playing games all afternoon and paying no attention to you. You went back to the living room, sneakily behind the sofa again and encircled him with your arms...
All of a sudden, he grabbed your wrist, bending you over. He leaned his head back to touch your lips and locked it with a kiss. Surprised, you leaped back and attempted to flee. After hurling the console onto the chair, Caleb got up, circled the couch, and seized you.
His hands clamped around your waist, making you turn to face him. “I told you not to be naughty.”
As you looked at the screen with the large word DEFEATED displayed, you laughed. In response, you said:
“You lost because you're terrible at this game. It's not my fault.”
“You're still in the mood to tease me?”
Caleb made an angry face, but all you saw was a cute guy with two lipstick marks on his face. He still held you tightly in his arms to prevent you from escaping. He gently lifted you up so that your bare feet rested on his.
“You tried the lipstick marking thing on my face again, didn't you”
"How do you know that?"
“I can smell it.” Caleb smirked. He could position you against the couch with style in only one spin.
“Caleb?” You were a bit surprised. He still refused to let you go but pressed closer to you.
“Make amends.” Caleb said, his voice a bit coy, making you blush. Normally, it's you who wheedle.
"What kind of compensation do you want?..." You hesitated, but you had good reason to be concerned. Because as soon as you finished speaking, you felt a bit regretful when Caleb suddenly attacked you with a passionate kiss.
When he finally let go to let you catch your breath, he rubbed your head, causing your hair to go untidy. Your fingers still lingered on his shoulder, and your red lips seemed to be inviting for another kiss. Caleb could not let you win that quickly. He stepped back and said:
“Everything always goes your way. That's how it's been all along since childhood. I can't keep spoiling you forever.”
Feeling a little let down, you gazed into his eyes. Caleb's face had brilliant lipstick traces that your fingertips touched.
"Are you sure?" You inquired, and then you hurried to put both of your arms around his neck without waiting for him to respond. You raised your torso and enveloped his waist with your legs. All he could do was hold you, and then you would attack him with powerful, determined kisses.
Caleb laughed while you pulled your lips away long enough to take a breath. He was defeated, again and again. After all, he would always let you win.
𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓
You finished your makeup that day with a little red lipstick on the lips. Satisfied with the new lipstick and cosmetics Tara had just recommended, you glanced in the mirror. But when you turned to Xavier,you saw him dozing off on the edge of the bed. He was still seated, but his back was resting on a stack of pillows and his hand was gripping the plush bunny named Bunbun.
You intended to wake him up, but as you approached, his innocent face and soft snoring made you want to give him a little playful nudge. You placed yourself on the edge of the bed, as quietly as possible so as not to wake him up. Then you pressed your lips to his cheek, leaving a red lip stain.
Leaning back slightly, you waited for Xavier to stir, but he remained deep sleeping. You impatiently placed a kiss on his other cheek. Then one on the forehead, another on the chin... Just like that, soon light and dark lipstick smears were all over his face.
You gulped back a laugh. He was certain to become uneasy upon awakening. Unexpectedly, you were taken by surprise as well. His eyes were barely open when his fingers snatched your wrists and pushed you against the bed.
"Xavier?" You let out a startled exclamation. You felt his body pressing on yours, immobilizing you. He could easily lock both of your wrists together, forcing them above your head and holding them there with only one hand.
You raised your gaze to Xavier's face which was covered by lipsticks. Gradually, he opened his eyes. He was still drowsy, but he was fully aware of the damage you had just caused to his heavenly face.
“I can't believe you sneaked up on me while I was sleeping.”
You giggled, looking apologetic: “I'm sorry. Because… you look so cute when you sleep!”
Xavier pretended not to hear your apology. He tightened his hold on the area that was holding your wrist, and you let out a quiet cry. His other hand freely explored your face and his fingers paused at your lips.
"Your lip color has changed."
Xavier was always sensitive to even the tiniest changes in you. It gave you the impression that he was concerned about you and valued you. You gave a nod.
“And you brought my face out to test your new lipstick?” Xavier questioned. You became aware that his body was gradually dropping and encroaching onto yours.
"I've already... apologized," Your cheeks heated with his breath.
"That doesn't count." Xavier gave a sulky reply. "There will be an equal cost for you to pay."
"H-Huh?
Xavier leaned down and pressed his cool lips to your cheek, leaving a scorching, tingling trail.
“One here.” Xavier said, then he proceeded to kiss the other cheek. “Another here.”
“X-Xavier…” You made an effort to resist and came very close to escaping him. But your wrists were held even tighter. The other hand Xavier was holding around your neck tensed as well.
"Be good!" Although his voice was still very gentle, you caught his impatience, almost like a command.
And you lied still, submitting to his authority as he inked your face with his own lip marks. On the forehead, nose, cheeks and chin. He planted a kiss on your face in precisely the same spot and sequence as you had just given him. You started to get a sense that Xavier wasn't actually asleep, and you were naive to fall right into the trap that was set up by his innocent expression.
At the same time, you relished the sensation of being beneath Xavier, his body heat enveloping you, and the sound of his breathing in your ear blended with every kiss.
The last kiss just ended. As you struggled to catch your breath, you said:
“A-Are you done? Can you…Can you let me go now?…”
The truth was, you never want him to let go. Xavier simply glanced at you and felt your emotions. He lifted your chin again so you could look into his eyes, while he gently parted your lips with this thumb.
“Did I say I would let you go?”
Your eyes seemed to be blurred by the heat between you both. You arched your head back a little, longing for his lips to meet yours once more. Xavier smiled triumphantly as his finger lightly slid across your lips, smearing a small amount of your lipstick out.
“You should have known there is a price for waking me up like that.”
𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍
That evening, while you were getting ready for the date, Rafayel showed up. He took a seat next to you and began fiddling with the makeup items on the table. His long fingers stroke the blush in the box, he waved it in the air, enjoying the color in his hand.
"Look at this. My hands are now the same color as your cheeks.”
You turned to look at Rafayel. He gave you a mischievous smile. With his other hand, he gently lifted your chin.
“Let me help you,” said Rafayel. You obediently sat still so he could apply the pink blush that was already on his hand to your cheeks, although you were certain that they were already pink even before applying makeup.
"Very lovely. The peach hue draws attention to your smile.” Rafayel exclaimed. "Even though you don't need makeup to look beautiful."
You smiled heartily. His lips were always so sweet, giving you more confidence. I had never seen yourself more beautiful than when you were next to him. Even without saying it out loud, the way he looked at you always made you feel like you were the most exquisite painting his eyes had ever laid upon.
“I'm almost done. All that's left is lipstick." You said while taking out a brand new lipstick from your purse. “Tara said this color would go very well with me.”
Rafayel took the lipstick from your hand and looked at its color through the transparent glass cover. Then he gave it back to you. “Go ahead and try it on.” He spoke excitedly, as if he was the one using this lipstick.
You twisted the cap open, applied a layer and pressed your lips together to spread the lipstick evenly. “Mmmh.” Before you could look closely, Rafayel anxiously put his palm on your cheek and drew you in.
“Let me see it...” Rafayel's fingertips playfully caressed across your face and ears while you held your breath. "Red. It truly does fit you perfectly.”
His thumb traced a line down the border of your lower lip, giving you a ticklish feeling. You could not focus because of how near his face was. You gently closed your eyes, then when he was too preoccupied staring at your lips, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.
“You?!” Rafayel was startled. He withdrew his hand and touched the place you just kissed. A scarlet set of lips like a blossoming flower revealed itself on Rafayel's porcelain face.
"If you don't let me see my lipstick color in the mirror, I'll borrow your face to try it on." You laughed in response.
“What do you mean by that?”
As soon as he finished speaking, Rafayel was left with another lip mark on his cheek, just below the previous one. His eyebrows frowned slightly. His cheeks and ears were scarlet, he couldn't hide his embarrassment anymore.
“That is excessive.” Rafayel mumbled, yet behind that salty expression was a wry smirk. You applied another layer of lipstick on your lips to replace the first layer that had mostly faded. You commented:
“This lipstick tastes somewhat as sweet as candy.”
Hearing that, Rafayel immediately raised his face. He held your chin tightly in his hand and brought it very close.
“Really? I'd like to give it a shot as well.”
After saying so, he put his lips to yours. Before you could protest, you felt a slight pain in your bottom lip as you opened your eyes wide.
“R-Rafayel!” You gasped when he left your lips. Your lipstick was lightly on his lips as he licked it lightly.
“It does taste like candy!”
His mysterious expression confused you. You covered your mouth with both hands and reprimanded: "You just bit me!"
With a sly smile, Rafayel tipped his head and said, "I was only curious to taste your lipstick. Then, I realized something…”
Suddenly he came close to you again. His hand pulled yours down to reveal your red face and slightly swollen, color-smeared lips. He spoke again:
“You taste sweeter than any candy!”
Unsure of how to react, you observed Rafayel get back up. You followed him because you assumed he was going to head to the restaurant that you two had reserved. Just as you were getting up from the chair, Rafayel abruptly pulled you back and seated you entirely on the dressing table.
"Where are you going?" He asked while burying his face in your shoulder and hair.
“To our date?… We're already late…”
Rafayel's dissatisfaction was evident from his facial expression. He glanced back at you, his finger tracing across your lips as if he was painting a picture himself.
"The plan has changed."
He kissed you once more, and this time, the long kisses were broken up by little, painless bites that made you weak in the knees and found it hard to breathe. You pushed Rafayel back a little so he could slow down while leaning your back against the frigid mirror. However, the more you did so, the more he devoured your red lips.
“We can save that restaurant for another time… For now, let's stay here, okay?”
He said between rapid breaths. You nodded slightly. How could you refuse, when all your luscious lips wanted was him?
𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆
During Zayne's lunch break, you stayed in his office to make sure he ate enough and on time. It could also be said otherwise; it's him who made sure you're full and rest well before returning to the headquarters.
After lunch, Zayne sat reading a book on the sofa. You thought you would get out your new lipstick and give it a little play since you had nothing better to do. You barely learned the fundamental techniques and were too busy fighting Wanderers to wear makeup frequently. But the other day, Tara had just given you a new lipstick and said that this color would look good on you.
You put on a light layer. Since Zayne's workplace lacked a mirror, you turned to him and inquired, "How do I look?"
Zayne merely gave you a quick glance before turning back to the book.
"Alright."
"Alright?!" You said it again. By that, what did he mean? It was "okay" rather than beautiful? Yet, he couldn't even look at you for more than a second. You were a little hurt. You twisted the lipstick cap again and applied another layer.
"What about this?" You inquired with him once more. However, Zayne quickly responded with a "Mmhhh" to end the conversation. You turned your gaze from him to the book he was holding. It took away all of his attention, which he should be giving to you.
Refusing to give in to such an inanimate object, you turned completely to Zayne, pulled him back and pressed your lips to his cheek.
You released your grip, revealing your trophy — a vivid red lipstick mark — on his icy face. However, he continued to glare at you without saying anything. His hand turned the book to a new page and as if nothing had happened, he ignored you once again.
“You…” You let out a sigh. You knew he had his own concerns, but were angry at the thought that you were not important, not attractive enough for him, unlike a medical book. You gave it another go, kissing him very close to the lips this time.
Zayne breathed heavily. Although the expression on his face remained unchanged, you caught his hands holding the book trembling slightly.
“There is a medical appointment that I must attend in an hour. This kind of abuse on my face is unacceptable."
You felt like you had won when he closed the book and put it back on the table.
“Okay, let me tidy it up for you.” Grinning, you got up to grab the tissue box. But you were drawn back by a strong force that very moment. Suddenly you found yourself sitting completely on Zayne's lap. His sinewy arms encircled your waist securely.
“If you want to leave marks on me…” You heard Zayne whispering so softly from behind. “You need to be a little more considerate.”
You sat still and let Zayne turn you around, facing him. Your heart was beating very fast. At this rate, before another patient came to see him, he would have to treat you first. You tried to stay calm in front of him and questioned:
“More considerate? Do you recommend any other spot then?” Your hand briefly touched Zayne's cheek before descending gently. You stared intently, lifting his chin. As you cuddled on his lap, little against the toned shoulders he covered beneath his shirt, Zayne shifted both of your legs so they were more comfortably positioned on the sofa.
Your fingertips paused at his neck, verging on his Adam's apple. You caught it moving slightly. “Or this spot?”
Zayne was clearly making every effort to maintain the residual calm on his face. His eyes were staring at you intensely from behind his glasses, as though he was granting you permission to do that.
And you leaned up to place a kiss there.
You heard a cough come from Zayne. He looked at you, extremely miserable. But you put your hand on the lipstick mark on his neck as if admiring another of your trophies. It did not stop there. You still wanted more, wanted to know what he would do if you went a little further...
Your index finger slid from his neck to his chest and stopped just above his heart.
“Doctor Zayne, your heart is racing.”
Your laughter was as crisp as sunshine in the room, increasing the temperature. Zayne took your hand, neatly holding it in his scarred one. He spoke, but you caught his trembling even though he was very discreet:
“Can you... cure me then?”
Your finger gently tapped on his chest. "Of course." You would always like it when Zayne let me be in charge, asking you to take care of him little by little. His hand loosened slightly, allowing you to freely find the buttons of his shirt and undo them.
Then, you put another crimson mark on his bare chest.
#love and deepspace#fanfic#fanfiction#love and deepspace fanfic#character x reader#character x f!reader#zayne#xavier#rafayel#caleb#heart hunters series#lnd#l&d#zayne x mc#xavier x mc#caleb x mc#rafayel x mc#zayne x you#rafayel x you#xavier x you#caleb x you#love and deepspace zayne#love and deepspace xavier#love and deepspace caleb#love and deepspace rafayel#li shen#shen xinghui#qi yu#xia yizhou#rei
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hold on, little bunny | oneshot larry
“a criação de coelhinhas que harry tinha era simplesmente amável. fazia a contagem delas todos dias, e certa vez, se deu conta que uma estava desaparecida. não podia ir atrás do bichinho sozinha… então, por que não pedir ajuda a louis, um dos fazendeiros que trabalhavam na fazendinha que morava?”
🎀ྀིྀི
⤷ h!inter • dacrifilia • cock warming • daddy kink • harry18|louis30 • perda de virgindade • um pouco sexo baunilha e muitos elogios.
🐰ྀིྀི
O sol beijava todas as plantações e as copas das árvores verdes da fazenda, o vento balançava os capins dourados juntamente com as flores brancas, alguns girassóis se abrindo a medida que a luz quente aquecia seu caule.
Viver longe da cidade foi um pouco desafiador no começo para Desmond, que decidiu tomar essa vida após seu divórcio, vivendo apenas com sua pequena em uma casa que lhe despertava o sentimento de lar e conforto. Queria que Harry tivesse a melhor experiência vivendo em um lugar com contato direto a natureza, e bem, isso não poderia ter funcionado da melhor forma!
Harry se adaptou rapidamente. Cresceu em meio a muitos porquinhos, celeiros e cavalos, até tinha pônei branquinho, era realmente uma graça. Aos quinze, começou a ajudar seu pai com o que podia, como ir a cidade para buscar ingredientes e rações, de vez em quando plantava algumas plantinhas e sempre estava de olho no crescimento das flores. Mas, ela tinha um sonho desde pequenina.
— Pai, eu poderia ter uma coelhinha? — tinha dito em uma manhã aleatória da semana, a voz mansa para compadecer o coração de Desmond.
— Não vejo problema, filha — e ele respondeu calmamente, vendo que o sorriso em Harry surgiu rapidamente. — Porém, existem regras. Somente você vai cuidar dela, okay? Não vou ficar cuidando coelho de ninguém. Se você quer, você cuida.
— Sim, sim, sim! — Harry pulava alegremente na quina da mesa. — Eu vou cuidar dela, eu prometo!
E naquele dia, Harry voltou de uma fazenda que doava coelhos com a sua pequena Lola, os pelos branquinhos super macios, tão frágil de segurar nos braços que vivia com medo de derruba-la no chão. Cuidou dela como todo seu amor e carinho, não conseguia deixar a coelhinha dormir no cantinho que Desmond fez para ela no celeiro, por esse motivo, fez uma caminha toda rosa em uma das gavetas de sua cômoda, deixando o serzinho tão pequeno se aconchegar ali.
Lola tinha mil laços. Harry gostava sempre de mostrar ela aos trabalhadores da fazenda, mostrando que as duas estavam combinando a cor dos laços. Desmond olhava de longe e sentia muito orgulho, ficava fascinado como Harry era tão pura e se prendia em coisas simples, se apaixonava pelo pouco e abrigava o amor dentro de seu coração.
E os anos foram se passando… Harry não tinha mais 15 anos, e sim 18.
Acordava ao som das copas e dos pássaros. Descia as escadas correndo sentindo o cheiro forte de café sendo passado por Jennie, uma empregada da casa que Harry considerava como uma vó, já que a mesma sempre cuidou dela quando pequena. Se arrumava e ia pegar seu carro para ir à cidade, estudava meio período e voltava de tardezinha. Viu a fazenda de seu pai ganhar lugar no mercado de exportações, viu Desmond se tornando uma peça importante para outras cidades que usufruíam de seus serviços.
Dado isso, algumas coisas mudaram. Mais homens começaram a trabalhar na fazenda, mais mulheres começaram a trabalhar na casa, e quanto mais serviço, mais Desmond ficava afastado da filha. Harry tinha uma vida monótona, não reclamava de nada, mas como os anos foram se passando e ela foi tomando uma consciência do que era crescer, adquirir mais esperteza, e também a surpresa da puberdade, começou a achar que a vida na fazenda poderia ser entediante de vez em quando.
Sendo assim, Harry adotou mais sete coelhinhas. Todas fêmeas, das cores mais diversas. Era um jeito de se ocupar com o que realmente gostava, vivia enfurnada em seu quarto estudando ou fazendo companhia para Jennie; que também, não reclamava, amava a companhia da senhorinha.
Não tinha muitos amigos. Não tinha muitos amigos por que morava longe, quando era chamada para uma festa simplesmente não tinha como ir, ou também seu pai não deixava. Harry era curiosa para tudo. Queria saber mais da vida, algumas coisas sobre a vida íntima e tudo o que faz de uma adolescente ser uma adolescente. Tinha feito 18 recentemente, não se considerava tão adulta, sabe? Mesmo tendo muito conhecimento do que é uma trabalho ardo, já que fez parte disso na fazenda, e tendo conhecimento de que estudar era a única coisa que devia focar para crescer.
Harry era pura e casta. Curiosa demais numa inocência genuína. Queria mesmo saber das coisas. E ela foi descobrindo aos poucos…
Ao chegar da escola, gostava de sentir o pôr do sol em sua pele lá da pequena janela de seu quarto, no último andar da casa. Encostava seu queixinho no dorso da mão, fechava os olhos e apenas sentia seu rosto se aquecendo e os cachos voando pelo vento forte e abafado. Uma vez, fazendo esse seu costume rotineiro, decidiu abrir os olhos para ver os fazendeiros trabalhando naquela imensidão de verde.
Por que os corpos eram tão malhados? Por que tinham uma estrutura corporal tão bruta e atraente? E por que sentiu sua bucetinha pulsar ao olhar tanto para aqueles homens?
Ficou tão confusa… não tinha sentido nada assim como antes. Na verdade, tinha sim, mas não com tanta atenção quanto naquele momento.
Aquilo não saia de sua cabeça. Quando desceu para dar tchau aos trabalhadores, sentiu uma forte atração por um deles, uma atração carnal. Não conseguia ficar ali esperando que todos dessem um beijinho na sua bochecha, e então, foi para seu quarto e esperou a casa toda ficar em silêncio - as empregadas dormiam na casa de vez em quando.
Harry se permitiu olhar seu próprio corpo no espelho. Queria ver sua versão mais nua e crua. Queria ver se seria capaz de instigar alguém quanto se sentiu instigada mais cedo naquele dia.
A pele branquinha com um leve fundo de bronze, os joelhos sempre tão avermelhados e as coxas grossas que roçavam uma na outra quando usava saia. Harry levou suas mãos até seus peitinhos, apertou eles sentindo novamente aquela pulsação entre suas pernas. Tadinha… ficava muito confusa! Não tinha ninguém para explicar a ela! Como poderia adivinhar?
Já que estava sozinha, em seu próprio quarto, começou a analisar mais a linguagem de seu corpo quando apertava seus peitinhos. Era tão gostoso, o biquinho ficando durinho a cada afofadinha, parecia estar apertando algo fofo e frágil.
Harry sentia cada vez mais essa pulsação entre suas pernas. Não se aguentou e se sentou no chão, de frente para o seu espelho grande, abrindo as pernas e vendo como sua bucetinha estava toda melada, expelindo seu melzinho com uma força desconhecida.
— Mhn… — Harry gemeu baixinho quando teve a brilhante ideia de descer seus dedos para sua bucetinha, vendo como estava sensível quando subiu novamente e tocou seu clítoris inchadinho. — M-meu Deus…
Se apoiou em só um cotovelo, tocando seu peitinho só com uma mão, enquanto com a outra, descobria como gostava de se tocar, no começo só fazendo movimentos circulares e leves, nem se dando conta que a medida que ia gemendo baixinho, quase inaudível, movia seu quadril para frente e para trás, o seu dedo do meio indo rápido demais, sua bucetinha toda molhada com o tanto de mel que expelia, tudo numa medida que fez Harry só jogar a cabeça para trás e continuar se tocando.
Harry tinha suas pernas tremendo, o seu dedo fazendo movimentos para cima e para baixo, com mais força, o clítoris inchado e muito sensível trazendo a sensação de orgasmo cada vez mais perto.
— Mhn… eu não consigo parar! — disse mentalmente, mordendo com força seu lábio inferior, vendo a imagem linda de si mesma no espelho. A bucetinha toda aberta e rosinha, os lábios gordinhos com uma aparência macia.
A sua boca foi aberta em um “O” perfeito quando sentiu seu primeiro orgasmo, mal conseguindo se tocar de tão sensível que tinha ficado, tentando fazer isso mas seu próprio corpo tinha se negado. Harry estava toda molhadinha e muito excitada, ainda pensando naquele fazendeiro que a fez se tocar tão loucamente. Brevemente se lembrou do nome do rapaz, algo como Louis.
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Louis estava trabalhando no celeiro aquele dia. Desmond estava prestes a chegar da cidade depois de uma semana fora de casa. E, bem, Louis não estava sozinho.
A garota chegou no celeiro com uma pequena cesta na mão, havia algumas rações e tecidos. Harry decidiu colocar uma mini saia e um camiseta que mostrava boa parte de sua barriga, exibindo a pele um tanto rosada. Os sapatinhos Mary-Jane chamaram a atenção de Louis, foi subindo os olhos pelas pernas lisinhas da garota até dar de cara com polpa daquela bundinha.
Harry subiu uma madeira da portinha que fechava o cantinho das coelhas e começou a conta uma por uma, se perdendo na contagem toda vez por que elas não paravam quietas. Harry se inclinou para frente e isso fez com que sua saia subisse, sendo assim, Louis teve uma visão privilegiada daquela buceta revestida pelo tecido rosinha. As coxas coladas uma na outra só deixou os lábios da xotinha de Harry bem apertadinhas.
— Moranguinho, Tina e… meu Deus, fiquem paradas! Assim não consigo contar cada uma — fazia a contagem todos os dias, era importante. — Okay… Moranguinho, Tina, Dentuça… — Harry havia se perdido novamente. — Meninas, por favor! Eu vou ter que contar de novo, que saco!
Louis observava de longe ali do celeiro como Harry brincava com as pernas, como se inclinava mais para frente e como seus peitos estavam quase explodindo para fora daquela camiseta justinha. Foi obrigado a se virar de costas para não ser pego com os olhos famintos sobre o corpo da garota, não queria ser mal compreendido por ela.
Só conseguia ouvir a voz de Harry resmungando e manhosa a cada vez que recomeçava a contagem. Louis não estava se aguentando.
— Você quer ajuda? — se ofereceu, ainda virado de costas, com uma caixa nos braços mudando uma para cada lado. Estava sem camisa, a mesma presa no cós de sua calça, juntamente a um pano branco. Apenas de calça jeans e botas pesadas. — Parece que tá difícil aí, não?
— Tá sim… um pouquinho — Harry tomou os olhos para o homem, não podendo disfarçar que olhou atentamente para o torso desnudo dele.
Louis foi até Harry, se permitindo segurar a cintura da garota para ela descer da porta do celeiro e ficar no chão. Harry notou que sua mão tinha uma textura grossa, naturalmente fazendo um aperto.
— Eu vou segurar elas e dar cada uma para você contar, pode ser? — Harry ficou meio perdido na atenção que estava recebendo de Louis, nos azuis daqueles olhos tinha algo muito singular. — São quantas no total?
— São oito — Harry disse, fechando a porta do cantinho das coelhinhas assim que entraram ali. Ela se sentou de pernas cruzadas em borboleta, Louis fez o mesmo a sua frente. O homem conseguia ver a bucetinha gordinha por baixo da saia, mas não se prendeu muito nisso, uma olhada já foi o suficiente. — Eu preciso fazer a contagem delas porque cada uma recebe uma quantidade de ração bem certinha.
— Certo — Louis pegou a primeira coelhinha, que já estava pulando em volta dele. — Vamos começar por essa.
— Moranguinho — Harry a pegou em sua mão, colocando para o lado de fora do celeiro. — Ela é muito fofa, né?
— Tanto quanto essa — tinha outra em sua mão, a pelugem preta e o nariz inquieto.
— Tina! — Harry exclamou, pegando a bolinha de pelos nas mãos, logo a deixando com Moranguinho. — Essa é mais fujona, temos que ser rápidos.
E os dois prestaram atenção tantos nas coelhas quanto um no outro.
Harry não tirava os olhos dos braços musculosos de Louis, tinha uma definição magra em seu abdômen e a quantidade de tatuagens a deixava louca. E Louis não conseguia parar de olhar na saliência dos biquinhos dos peitos de Harry naquela camiseta, já que estava sem sutiã e nada para disfarçar a região. Os peitinhos balançavam a cada mísero movimento, tão empinadinhos que parecia patético serem tão perfeitos. Não olhou mais por baixo da saia, pelo menos não diretamente, Harry conseguia arranjar algum jeito de tirar suas mãos entre as pernas só para mostrar sua xotinha.
— Dentuça e…
— Tem mais? — Louis perguntou confuso, Dentuça foi a última coelhinha a dar para Harry.
A garota olhou ao redor desesperada, olhou por trás de Louis e para os lados. Já sentia uma vontade imensa de chorar.
— A Lola! — exclamou, muito aborrecida. — A Lola sumiu, meu Deus, ela não pode sumir! Ela já é velhilha e vai ser perder, eu preciso achar ela…
— Calma, Harry — um simples toque na coxa da garota a tirou do transe de desespero. — Ela não deve ter ido muito longe. Você pode encontrar ela agora, eu fico aqui dando ração para as outras, se quiser.
Harry corou as bochechas por Louis começar a fazer um carinho em seu joelho.
— Você pode vir comigo? — pediu, um tanto tinhosa. — Eu não tenho coragem de ir sozinha na floresta, e acho que ela já está lá.
— Como quiser — sorriu educadamente, sem mostrar os dentes.
Louis se levantou e ofereceu ajuda a Harry, que aceitou de bom grado segurando sua mão, vendo que a sua se fez mais macia do que nunca no toque do homem. Limpou sua mini saia dos capins grudados no tecido e fez questão de levantar ela, até parecia que fazia isso de propósito só para arrancar olhares de Louis, que deu muito certo.
As coelhinhas não-fugitivas foram postas em seus lugares e os dois saíram do celeiro, ambos podendo notar a diferença de tamanho; Harry bem na altura do peitoral de Louis.
Ao que começaram a andar em direção as árvores, o som de carro se aproximava cada vez mais, e quando olharam para trás, Desmond estava estacionando perto do celeiro.
— Não esperava encontrar vocês aqui.
— Pai! — Harry disparou em direção a Desmond.
A garota foi levantada pelos braços do pai, que a rodou e isso a fez abrir um sorriso por finalmente estar matando as saudades dele. Louis já estava de saco cheio em ver a bunda e a buceta de Harry toda vez que ele batia os olhos para aquela saia, e tudo piorava quando tinha essa cena tão fácil assim bem na sua frente. Teve que se virar para apertar forte seu pau.
— Boa tarde, senhor Styles — ofereceu sua outra mão para cumprimentá-lo em um aperto firme. — Eu estava ajudando Harry a contar as coelhas dela.
— Sim, e a Lola sumiu — Harry se fez ao lado de Louis novamente. — Ele vai me ajudar a procurar ela.
— Certo — Desmond se assegurou dos dois. Louis era o rapaz que mais confiava ali, fazia seu trabalho muito bem feito, sem falar que o ajudava em questões de vendas também. O puxou para perto enquanto Harry já seguia seu caminho. — Cuidado para não perder minha filha, em?
— Pode deixar — deu um sorriso sem jeito, com uma risadinha baixa.
Isso se Harry não se perder em Louis antes…
A garota já estava correndo em direção a floresta. Não parecia nem um pouco que tinha medo de ir lá sozinha. Só queria que Louis a olhasse por trás enquanto corria feito um bambi, a maldita saia indo para cima e para baixo, mostrando e escondendo aquela bundinha branquinha. Louis foi andando, já sem paciência com tanta provocação.
Harry olhou para trás fazendo um sinal para Louis se apressar. Louis sorriu forçado.
— Garota do caralho — sussurrou para si mesmo, só para reclamar um pouco de toda essa tensão entre eles.
Sabia que Harry tinha coragem de ir pra lá sozinha, ainda mais que cresceu naquele lugar e sempre esteve na floresta quando pequena. Harry realmente só queria a companhia de Louis um pouco mais.
O nome da coelha começou a ser chamado pelos dois. Um para cada lado, não muito distantes. Uma vez ou outra, Harry se assustava com um barulho dos arbustos, ou com algum galho que pisou, estalando e a fazendo soltar um gritinho fino. Louis ficava esperto mas também puto com a situação toda. Era só ela falar que queria dar para ele.
— Como a Lola é?
— Branquinha e gordinha.
— Hum — Louis lembrou de outra coisa, se julgando por ter pensado em besteira numa situação não muito apropriada. — Okay… procurar por algo branquinho e gordinho.
Harry soltou uma risada genuína, escondendo o sorriso com as mãos.
— O que foi? — Louis disse, surgindo através de uma árvore só para olhar o rostinho de Harry, todo vermelho e um pouco suado.
— O jeito que você falou foi engraçado.
— Você é meio boba, né? — foi uma pergunta retórica. Louis apenas soltou, vendo as bochechas da garota ficarem mais saltadas por conta do sorriso. Louis fixou seu olhar nas covinhas dela. — E linda demais… — disse, mentalmente.
Ficaram um pouco perdidos um no outro. A atenção deles voltaram quando um barulho um seguido do outro começou a surgir. Como se fossem pulinhos.
Os dois parados. Harry com a boca fechada como se fosse dizer algo a qualquer momento, e Louis olhando para o rosto dela e prestando atenção no barulho.
O barulho estava ali em um arbusto perto deles. Algumas folhas se mexendo denunciaram que era algum ser pequeno. Harry e Louis queriam rir.
— Fica quietinha — Louis sussurro, os braços um pouco abertos em alerta.
— Eu tô quieta! — exclamou, baixinho, mostrando revolta.
— Cala a boca, Harry — o pulso da garota foi apertado pela mão de Louis, que logo se sentiu reprimida e suavizou o semblante, mas no fundo gostou de ser mandada a ficar quietinha pelo homem.
E Lola apareceu no seu pulo para fora do arbusto. Quase seguiu seu caminho se não fosse por Louis, que a pegou rapidamente. Ele não sabe segurar coelhos, até ficou um pouco assustado pelo tamanho enorme e o peso considerável.
— Ai, meu Deus, Lola!
— Pega ela logo — estava praticamente esticando a coelha para longe.
— Não pega ela assim, Louis — Harry disse, franzindo o cenho vendo Lola toda agoniada. — Tem que pegar com jeitinho, olha… — a garota pegou as mãos de Louis e as aproximou contra seu peito, Lola caiu para seus braços e assim a coelha já estava como devia estar, porém as mãos dos dois fizeram uma bagunça ali. — Tira a sua mão por baixo… Não, espera aí…
— Você me prendeu, Harry, solta a coelha.
— É só você… — Harry tinha que segurar Lola pressionando ela com seus braços, os mesmos que deixaram as mãos de Louis um tanto imobilizadas. Estava literalmente a palma da mão de Louis espalmadas nos peitinhos de Harry, e quanto mais ele se mexia, mais ela sentia seu biquinho ficando duro. Não precisa ser dito sobre a pulsação. — Mhn… Louis, tira sua mão por b-baixo…
— Tá gaguejando por causa de quê?
Louis sorriu sujo. De propósito, ele deu um aperto muito sútil na carne gordinha e desceu suas mãos, brevemente encostando elas na barriga arrepiada de Harry.
Harry teve que se afastar, ficou muito sem graça. Enquanto Louis tinha um sorriso cavajeste naqueles lábios finos e vermelhos.
— Vai pra sua casa — disse, um tanto autoritário. — Seu pai deve estar preocupado.
Harry apenas fez que sim, abraçando Lola fortemente, toda envergonhada e com o rosto pegando fogo, logo saindo correndo para sua casa.
Louis bufou em revolta e muito excitado.
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— Demoraram muito para encontrar a pirralha da Lola? — Desmond questionou, servindo café na sua xícara e na de Louis. — Acho que ela não aguenta mais Harry, por isso vive fugindo.
— Foi rápido até — Louis esconde o sorriso ao levar a xícara até sua boca. — A coelha já é velha, né?
— É… — Desmond não parecia muito focado naquele assunto. — Filho, tenho algo para lhe dizer.
— Pode falar.
— O que acha de fazer uns extras? Sabe, eu estou precisando de mais serviço aqui na fazenda pela demanda de produtos e vendas. Você teria que dormir de vez em quando aqui na casa, e isso não seria problema, temos quartos de sobra. O que você acha, filho? Você teria um aumento também. Confio no seu trabalho e é por isso que estou dando essa oportunidade a você.
— Eu acho perfeito, senhor Styles — a ideia surgiu como uma luz em sua mente. — Obrigado por toda confiança.
— Sabia que não ia me decepcionar com você, Tomlinson — Desmond sorriu abertamente. — Preciso que comece amanhã mesmo, se não tiver problema? Daí no caso, você dorme hoje aqui.
— Sem problemas — Louis tomou seu último gole de café. — Eu só preciso guardar minha moto.
— Me dê as chaves e eu guardo ela — Desmond se prontificou, se levantando da mesa para deixar a xícara de café na pia. — Como eu sabia que você ia aceitar, pedi para Harry arrumar seu quarto.
Hum.
— Muito obrigado, senhor Styles.
— Nada, filho… irei voltar para a estrada agora. Bom descanso.
Louis deu as chaves de sua moto para Desmond e ouviu o motor dela ligando, logo depois vendo ele deixar a chave em cima da mesa. Não iria dormir em casa mais uma vez, então pegou seu carro e seguiu caminho para a cidade.
Mas não estavam sozinhos totalmente. Jennie e mais algumas empregadas estavam na casa, algumas acordadas.
Enfim. Louis precisava tirar seus pensamentos sujos de sua mente com um bom banho. Já sabia toda a planta da casa, então, só subiu as escadas e foi andando preguiçoso até o banheiro.
Tal banheiro que estava uma sauna. A porta estava encostada, era possível ver a fumaça saindo da fresta e trazendo o cheiro de shampoo e sabonete, um cheiro tão doce que Louis sentiu sua boca salivar. Harry estava tomando banho.
Ele ouviu a voz da garota cantando alguma música melancólica. Uma voz muito afinada. Se aproximou da porta só para ouvir melhor, sem abrir e sem espionar.
Porém, Harry com seu sexto sentido aflorado, sabia que tinha alguém ali.
— Jennie? — foi a primeira pessoa que veio na sua cabeça. — Jennie, pode entrar, já estou terminando de tomar banho.
— Desculpa — Louis disse através da porta. — Eu quero tomar banho, vou esperar você sair.
— Espera! — Harry exclamou, desligando o registro e se apressando para colocar uma toalha. — Pode abrir a porta, Lou.
“Lou.”
Assim que abriu a porta, encontrou Harry com uma toalha branca cobrindo seu corpo, e meu Deus. Que porra de banheiro era aquele.
As paredes rosas com uma moldura no centro fazendo a divisão da tinta e do papel de parede florido. Duas pias marmorizadas com tons de rosa e dourado, os dois espelhos enormes deixava o cômodo maior. Louis nem pensou na possibilidade de ter algum sabonete menos doce ou um shampoo que não fosse feminino. Teria que dormir se sentindo uma princesinha, que amor!
— Só vou escovar meus dentes…
— Sem presa — Louis assegurou, virando de costas para poder pelo menos tirar sua camisa e as calças, estava realmente sujo.
Pelo seu espelho, Louis foi tirando sua roupa enquanto observava o corpinho de Harry escondido naquela toalha, imaginando como ela devia ser cheia de curvas. Quando Harry se inclinou para cuspir a pasta na pia, sua toalha deixou sua bunda inteira - inteira! - a mostra.
Louis quase xingou ela em voz alta.
Aqueles lábios rosadinhos pareciam estar implorando para serem judiados, a bunda branquinha toda empinadinha quase como um convite “venha me espancar” para Louis.
Foco. Não podia fazer isso. Ela era filha de seu chefe. O chefe que confiava 100% nele e em seu trabalho. Que absurdo!
— Prontinho — Harry disse, logo em seguida secando sua boca na toalha de rosto. — Depois eu te mostro onde é seu quarto, tá? Ainda vou arrumar ele.
Harry sorriu para o espelho e Louis a viu em seu reflexo, vendo as covinhas tão fofinhas afundando nas bochechas vermelhas. Harry era linda demais, um anjo pela terra, Louis se deu conta disso quando parou para cuidar de seus detalhes. Os cabelos molhados no ombro nu era somente muito delicado, e de certa forma, frágil. Não saberia explicar.
Louis pensou que teria dó de machucar Harry. Muito ingênua. Mal conseguiria imaginar ela nos cenários sujos que projetou em sua cabeça. Dito isso, se convenceu que era coisa da sua mente suja. Não. Harry não estava provocando e isso era rude de sua parte, pensar que uma garota tão quieta e na sua poderia fazer essas coisas.
Louis entrou de baixo da água afim de afastar os pensamentos ao que molhava seu cabelo. Bem, um tanto impossível… seu pau estava extremamente duro. Precisava se masturbar para aliviar a dor.
Dito e feito. Não gemeu. Não demorou muito. Estava tão ardido de tesão que só foi pensar em Harry chupando seu pau que o gozo pintou os azulejos rosas do banheiro. Simples assim.
Foco!
Colocou sua roupa limpa que trouxe para o trabalho. Louis só colocava ela para ir embora, mas naquele dia teria que usar para dormir. Um moletom cinza e uma regata, nada demais. E por sorte, levou uma boxer.
— Licença? — ele deu dois toques na porta antes de entrar, encontrando Harry agachada no pé da cama, usando um conjuntinho lilás de moletom. — Esse é meu quarto?
— Sim, sim — Harry ficou de pé, próximo a Louis, podendo sentir um cheiro de perfume masculino muito forte, mesmo ele tendo tomado banho com seus produtos. — Arrumei sua cama e você pode colocar suas roupas no armário… é, acho que está tudo arrumadinho.
— Obrigado, Harry — Louis disse, passando por ela em um fio para se encostarem. — Você é muito gentil.
— Obrigada… — ficou tímida, mas dessa vez sem esconder seu sorriso. Mais uma vez, Louis fixou seu olhar nas covinhas dela. — Eu quem devia agradecer. Você me ajudou a achar Lola.
Louis colocou sua mochila na cama e voltou a ficar perto dela, só para dar uma atenção devida, sabe? Não precisavam ficar longe um do outro a todo momento.
— Sempre que você perder suas coelhinhas, pode me chamar que eu te ajudo a encontrá-las — Louis fez Harry rir ali pertinho dele, tão pertinho que teve que descer seu olhar para encontrar os olhos verdes da garota, que estavam tão claros parecendo esmeraldas.
Harry e Louis ficaram parados ali enquanto se encaravam. A garota em um momento de fraqueza, maneou sua cabeça para frente, Louis fez o mesmo como reflexo, e quando o homem encontrou os olhos dengosos da garota novamente, ignorou todos seus princípios e juntou seus lábios aos dela.
O que estava acontecendo?
Harry subiu suas mãos lentamente até a nuca de Louis, não sabendo muito o que fazer com a boca, nunca tinha beijado antes. Louis tomou total domínio do beijo, e percebendo que a garota ainda não tinha dado permissão para sua língua, os selinhos foram se fazendo naquela boquinha, Louis sem pressa alguma, queria sentir cada partezinha de Harry, com muita calma.
— Mhn… Lou? — ela acabou gemendo entre um selinho e outro, dando passos para trás assim que Louis começou a andar para frente.
— Sim? — desgrudou sua boca dos lábios de Harry, trazendo suas mãos para a cintura dela, bem onde o moletom não cobria sua barriga. Louis fazia um carinho ali.
— Eu nunca beijei… desculpa, mas acho que não sei fazer isso…
Louis sorriu carinhoso.
— Tudo bem, bebê — afastou alguns fios que grudaram na sua bochecha, fazendo uma breve carícia em seu rosto com as duas mãos. Harry ficava mole com todo o toque e carinho de Louis. — Eu que vou te beijar. Não se preocupe, pode ser?
— Uhum — Harry fez que sim com a cabeça, se deixando a ficar mercê de Louis por inteira, tanto que suas mãos se agarraram com força no tecido de sua regata.
Louis flexionou um pouco seus joelhos para chegar na altura de Harry, logo puxando o rostinho lindo dela até o seu, seus lábios novamente um contra o outro. Louis dava selinhos demorados e molhados, Harry abriu um pouco sua boca e deixou seu lábio inferior ser chupado pelo homem que a beijava com tanto cuidado e carinho, um carinho muito específico.
— Você é tão boa, amor — Louis disse contra o beijo, sabendo que Harry sorriu ao que foi selar novamente os lábios e teve a possibilidade de beija-la de verdade.
Louis intensificou o beijo, mudando a posição de sua cabeça para o lado oposto, Harry esfregava sua língua contra a dele e o barulho úmido se fez presente. Os braços dela abraçaram toda cintura de Louis, estava literalmente abraçando o homem, como se ele fosse escapar dali a qualquer momento. Boba.
— Vem aqui — Louis disse, separando suas bocas rapidamente só para pegar Harry em seu colo.
Louis se sentou na cama e deixou Harry sentada nas suas coxas, a trazendo novamente para um beijo, agora afundando sua mão nos cabelos molhados da garota, sua outra mão se apoia na cintura cheia de curvas. Era tão gostoso, tão gostoso como Harry gemia baixinho no beijo, como Louis chupava seus lábios e deixava ela comandar os movimentos uma vez ou outra, como suas mãozinhas abraçavam seu pescoço com uma delicadeza enorme.
— Eu gosto do jeito que você me beija — Harry sussurra bem em cima dos lábios de Louis, apertando suas coxas com as pernas. — Mas dói tanto…
— Onde dói, bebê?
— Aqui — Harry sinalizou com o dedo o seu clítoris, que já estava todo sensível. — Dói muito e eu não o que fazer pra parar… — Louis apenas observou a garota colocar sua mão por dentro do moletom lilás, seu dedo do meio começando a fazer movimentos leves no seu pontinho. — Mhn… é tão gostoso, Lou, eu não sei por que fico assim…
Louis gemeu com o sorriso mais sujo do mundo, tendo literalmente Harry se tocando em seu colo, vendo ela rebolar nos próprios dedos, toda ofegante e deleitando no mais puro prazer.
— Você fica assim quando está excitada, meu amor — Louis explicou, tendo que segurar a garota pela bunda para que ela não caísse de seu colo. — O meu beijo te deixou excitada.
— Me beija de novo, Lou, talvez seu beijo faça isso parar!
A cabecinha do pau de Louis estava para fora do moletom, simplesmente saiu por ter ficado tão duro. Ele riu do desespero de Harry.
— Vem pra frente, amor — Louis disse, a empurrando com as mãos. Sentiu seu pau roçar ali no seu pontinho, Harry estava sensível demais. — Isso… eu sei como fazer sua dorzinha parar, bebê, se você quiser eu te mostro.
— Eu quero! — Harry fez um biquinho, indo para frente novamente. — Mais beijos?
— Beijos e… — Louis afundou seu rosto no pescoço de Harry, deixando a garota toda derretida e arrepiada. — Meu pau na sua bucetinha.
— C-como assim? — Harry ficou um pouquinho assustada.
— Fica calma, bebê — não queria deixar Harry com medo de algo, sua voz se fez firme e segura. — Eu não vou te machucar, não vai doer nada. Se quiser parar, é só me pedir. Eu cuido de você.
A última frase fez Harry amolecer seu corpo inteirinho, quase gemendo.
— Pode só me dizer o que você vai fazer?
— Vou deitar você nessa cama, tirar seu moletom, arrastar sua calcinha para o lado e encaixar meu pau bem na sua bucetinha. Eu vou esfregar seu pontinho bem lento, amor, só pra você ver que não dói nada.
Harry sabia que sua calcinha já está arruinada de tão molhada. Sua buceta piscava incontáveis vezes, jurava que podia ter um orgasmo só de ouvir Louis dizer tais palavras com a voz rouca e muito confiante, um sorriso absurdo nos lábios, um sorriso de lado esbanjando cretinice.
— Cuida de mim, por favor — Harry quase implorou, abraçando o pescoço de Louis ao que ele foi colocando seu corpinho deitado na cama. — Acaba com essa dor, Lou, ela tá me matando!
— Fechas os olhos, relaxa o corpo e goza.
Simples assim.
Harry deixou Louis tirar o moletom lentamente, vendo ele ficar de pé para tirar o seu, e meu Deus. Harry fechou as pernas involuntariamente vendo o tamanho gordo na boxer do homem, seu queixo caindo assim que Louis tirou seu pau para fora, a boxer caindo no chão ao que ele ia se masturbando.
— Não consigo, Lou, você vai me machucar demais — Harry estava escalando a cama a medida que Louis ia se aproximando.
— Eu não vou, bebê, confia em mim — Louis disse, segurando as coxas da garota a trazendo para perto novamente. — Você me provocou o dia inteiro hoje. Gemeu quando segurei seus peitinhos, ficou mostrando sua bucetinha com aquela saia… não vai querer dormir com dor, não é? Sabendo que posso resolver isso, que é o que você mais quer.
— M-mas você disse que não ia machucar. Eu nunca fiz isso, Louis, eu nunca fiz. Você promete que não vai doer?
— Prometo.
— Vai cuidar de mim?
— Vou, princesa.
Não havia mentira em suas palavras. Harry sentiu a confiança que precisava, e então, abriu as pernas.
Louis desceu seu rosto entre as pernas de Harry, deixou beijinhos por toda sua buceta, descendo a boca para os lábios macios e meladinhos. Arrastou o tecido branco para o lado deixando toda a bucetinha a mostra, tão rosinha que chegava a ter dó de judiar dela.
— Você é perfeita — Louis não resistiu e teve que elogiar, tanto pela visão de baixo quanto pela visão de cima, que era somente Harry contorcendo o rosto de tanto prazer e ansiedade, as sobrancelhas unidas com a boca entreaberta foi como registrar uma obra de arte na mente de Louis.
— Sinto falta do seu beijo, pa-
— Pa?
— Lou, eu ia dizer Lou.
— Pode falar a verdade, Harry. Não seja tímida.
Harry engoliu em seco.
— Sinto falta do seu beijo, papai — Harry soltou num sussurro, sentindo os dedos de Louis massageando seu clítoris com cuidado, bem lentinho. — Mhn… não para, por favor…
Louis foi a loucura por ouvir a voz manhosa de Harry o chamando de papai. Saiu tão sujo. Não esperava que Harry podia ser tão baixa assim quando se permitia. Era um absurdo tudo isso e ele se levou pela adrenalina.
O tecido da calcinha de Harry foi erguido, nisso Louis apenas encaixou sua glande bem no clítoris inchadinho de Harry, fazendo a fricção certa ao deixar a calcinha cobrir só a cabecinha de seu pau enquanto estimulava a garota, indo para trás e para frente com o quadril, tão lento que seus movimentos eram duros para não se apressar.
Louis deitou parte de seu corpo sobre Harry, sem parar de fazer os movimentos. Seu queixo estava quase se apoiando no peitoral da garota, os braços segurando seus ombros como se fossem muito frágeis. Louis olhou para Harry com o olhar carinhoso, vendo atentamente em sua expressão se estava com dor ou prazer, fazendo questão de deixar um carinho nas suas bochechinhas rosadas, não conseguia parar de fazer um gesto de carinho no rostinho lindo de Harry.
— Tá gostoso, meu bebê? — Louis questionou, sentindo seu pau pulsar a cada esfregada lenta no pontinho de Harry, que assentiu freneticamente com a cabeça. — Boa garota — disse vitorioso, a trazendo para um beijo segurando pelo queixo, seus lábios se encontrando novamente como se estivessem na abstinência.
Seus movimentos começaram a ficar mais rápidos, mais fortes, tendo que obrigar Louis a encostar sua testa na de Harry para poder gemer baixinho, ao contrário da garota que soltava gemidos a cada mínimo movimento, e nem se dava conta disso.
— É tão bom, papai, você faz tão gostoso — Harry estava ofegante, só conseguia segurar o pescoço de Louis e se perder nos olhos azuis e no prazer que sentia crescer cada vez mais.
— Você gosta de ser minha garotinha?
— S-sim… — Harry soltou um gemido mais alto, toda tinhosa com as perninhas tremendo em volta do corpo de Louis, o mesmo que ia com mais força esfregando sua glande no clítoris de Harry, a sensibilidade gritando. — Você pode ser meu p-papai… pra sempre.
Não conseguiam quebrar o contato visual. Louis só sabia gemer para dentro, uma vez ou outra, soltando o gemido rouco bem na cara de Harry, a mesma que unia suas sobrancelhas fortemente a cada movimento de vai e vem, os olhos fixados em Louis, amando a sensação de vitória por ter aquele homem trazendo tanto prazer para seu corpo, do jeito que imaginou quando se tocou pela primeira vez.
— Minha princesa — Louis começou a distribuir beijos por seu pescoço, descendo uma mão sua para apertar os peitinhos de Harry. — Quando eu entrar em você, vai ver que é muito melhor.
Harry sentiu uma ansiedade antecipada, sendo assim, apertou a cintura de Louis com suas pernas e começou a rebolar para cima, trazendo mais e mais prazer para o seu corpo, sendo difícil não gemer alto, obrigando Louis a não desgrudar a boca da sua; só para disparar os gemidos contra o beijo, tãooo manhosos, os gemidos tão fininhos e gostosos de ouvir. Louis gemia só pelo som que Harry emitia.
— Louis! L-louis! Mhn… Louis, eu vou gozar… eu acho que… Louis!
O homem começou a ir rápido demais, o barulho molhado deixando aquele quarto com as paredes impuras e as queixas da garotinha toda mole e manhosa, pedindo para que fosse mais rápido bem baixinho, quase inaudível, sentindo o seu orgasmo chegando para desestabilizar seu corpinho casto e puro.
— Goza comigo, amor, mostra pra mim que você é a garotinha do papai, uhn?
— Eu sou s-sim, papai — Harry lutava entre falar ou gemer. Conseguia fazer os dois perfeitamente. — Vai rapidinho, por favor, Lou, eu preciso…
Louis se afastou um pouco de Harry, segurando seu pau pela base e dessa forma, seu quadril ia para frente e para trás com muita agilidade e rapidez, a cabecinha esfregando com força o clítoris de Harry, as pernas da garota se tremiam e seu corpo dava pequenos espasmos, ela teve que tampar a própria boca para não deixar um gemido alto escapar.
Louis apenas apoiou sua cabeça nos peitos de Harry e sentiu seu pau lançar os jatos de gozo por toda a bucetinha da garota, sendo obrigado a ir lento novamente para prolongar a sensação. Harry arranhava as costas do homem em desespero, choramingando.
— Porra, Harry… — Louis beijou o biquinho de seu peito, só beijando de leve e muito babado. — Deixa eu entrar em você, amor.
Louis bateu seu pau contra o clítoris de Harry de propósito, só para ver o corpo de sua garotinha se contorcer de baixo do seu. Ao olhar para o rostinho dela, viu os olhinhos verdes querendo derramar lágrimas.
— O que foi, meu bebê?
— Papai, eu ainda sinto dor. Você fez tão gostoso, mas eu não consigo parar de sentir isso… — Harry fez um biquinho choroso, mesmo tendo gozado juntamente com Louis, algo parecia errado. — Eu quero chorar, me desculpa por não ter sido boa pra você.
Assim que Louis a abraçou devidamente, ainda deitada, Harry apertou as costas do homem com toda sua força, sendo beijada delicadamente mesmo com algumas lágrimas descendo até sua boca.
— Você não tem que se desculpar por nada, meu bebê — Louis sentiu uma pena genuína. — Aponta pra mim bem onde está doendo? Eu posso resolver isso pra minha garotinha.
Harry pegou um dedo de Louis e desceu até sua entradinha, expelindo mais mel a medida que indicava onde sentia pulsar com força — Aqui papai… mhn… parece que está piscando, eu não sei o que é! Por favor, papai, faça parar!
— Calma, coelhinha — Louis apenas fez um carinho na narizinho de Harry. — Tira sua calcinha e deixa suas pernas bem abertas pra mim. Não precisa se desesperar tanto, eu ainda estou aqui.
Harry fez o que lhe foi mandado. Tirou sua calcinha com custo, o tecido todo melado pela porra de Louis e do próprio orgasmo. Separou bem suas perninhas, os joelhos dobrados, e então, desceu suas mãos até separar os lábios e mostrou para Louis como estava piscando ardidamente, pedindo para que seu cacete entrasse naquela entradinha e a fodesse bem gostoso, do jeitinho que ela confiaria só em Louis para fazer.
— Fala pra mim o que você quer que eu faça — Louis disse, se punhetando na frente de Harry, a deixando distraída com seu tamanho. — Você é muito necessitada, amor, sei bem o que pode fazer sua dor parar.
— Me beija, papai, me beija aqui — Harry se abriu mais ainda, o quanto podia. — Por favor, eu gosto tanto do jeito que você me beija.
Louis sorriu de ladinho e nem demorou muito para estar com a cara entre as pernas de sua garotinha, caindo de boca naquela buceta apertada e sedenta, implorando para ser judiada.
As mãos de Louis subiram para os seios de Harry, a mesma que apertou mais suas mãos na carne gordinha, e assim, ela se contorcia e rebolava inconscientemente contra a língua de Louis, que fazia movimentos rápidos no clítoris inchadinho, intercalando com circulares e uma pressão a mais na língua, a textura macia e molhada da bucetinha de Harry bem ali tão fácil pra ele.
— Papai! Mhn! Eu não aguento, Lou, por favor… — Harry estava extremamente confusa, o prazer ardia por todo seu corpo e o orgasmo, bem, já estava tendo outro em tanto pouco tempo, bem na boquinha de Louis. — A-ah! P-papai… mhn… para, por favor!
Louis reprimiu o corpo de Harry com um aperto muito, muito, mas muito forte em seu peito, ao ponto de ouvir queixas da garota querendo se afastar dali, o choramingo era tão real quanto suas lágrimas pelas bochechas. Louis desceu sua língua até a entradinha apertada de Harry, sentindo sua garotinha pulsando bem ali ao toque molhado.
— Eu vou foder sua buceta com meu pau e você vai ficar bem quietinha — Louis provocou, chupando beeem lento o clítoris de Harry só para sentir ela gozando mais na sua língua. Louis deslizou dois dedos na bucetinha de Harry, levando até a boca dela. — Chupa, amor, isso… — a garota sugou os dois dedos, tentando conter o choro entalado na garganta. — Me mostra sua língua.
Harry abriu a boca e colocou sua língua para fora, no mesmo aperto de bochechas que Louis faz.
— Essa é a prova de que eu cuido bem de você, meu bebê, não acha?
— Acho, papai — fez que sim com a cabeça, engolindo ambos orgasmos. — Eu quero mais. Só que…
— Só que?
— Eu posso sentir você dentro de mim, papai? — disse tão manhosa, tão dengosa, abrindo os braços para que Louis deitasse sobre seu corpo novamente, a boca fazendo um biquinho irresistível. — Promete que não vai doer?
— Eu vou fazer com jeitinho, mas vai doer quase nada, não se preocupe — Louis deixou vários beijos no rostinho de Harry, acariciando sua cintura e esfregando seu nariz no pescoço branquinho e cheiroso. — Você precisa relaxar. Tenta parar de chorar, se não vai doer mesmo.
— Eu tô tentando… — Harry soluçou baixinho, abraçando o corpo de Louis por cima do seu, toda manhosinha.
— Shhh — ele precisou olhar para a garotinha para tentar acalma-lá com um carinho no rosto. Louis encaixou seu quadril entre suas pernas e sentiu seu pau roçar na bucetinha molhada. — Eu disse que cuidaria de você, não disse?
— Então cuida de mim, papai, preciso de você dentro de mim — Harry soltou as palavras antes que sentisse um gemido escapando de sua boca por sentir o pau de Louis roçando a todo tempo na sua xotinha. — Você é tão grosso… prometo te aguentar.
— Você vai — Louis disse, por fim.
Louis segurou seu pau pela base e ficou esfregando para cima e para baixo na bucetinha de Harry, sentindo a entradinha abrir toda vez que passasse por ali. Tinha que fazer com cuidado, tinha mesmo. O melhor é que Louis não tinha presa, eles tinham todo o tempo do mundo para esse momento. Não havia motivos para pular etapas.
Ele notou a dificuldade que seria quando tentou colocar somente a cabecinha de seu pau na entrada apertada, sendo negado na pulsação bruta de Harry.
— Fica calma, amor — Louis ressaltou, fazendo um cafuné nos cachos bagunçados de Harry. — Me abraça, se segura em mim, mas tenta relaxar. Não vai doer se você relaxar seu corpo, tá? Consegue fazer isso?
— C-consigo…
E Harry se abraçou ao corpo de Louis como um coala.
Louis tentou mais uma vez, tendo que olhar para baixo; se distraindo um pouco com a barriguinha definida da garota e os lábios gordinhos daquela xotinha, colocando com muita calma só a cabecinha do seu cacete grosso, que mal podia esperar para enfiar tudo. Harry sentiu se alargar a medida que Louis ia empurrando lentamente, no mesmo segundo soltando um gemido juntamente ao um gritinho, sabe? Daqueles que o gemido é interrompido pela falta de ar.
— Que bucetinha mais apertada, amor — Louis sussurrou no ouvido de Harry, sentindo seu corpo sendo arranhado no mais puro do desespero. — Geme baixinho só pra mim te ouvir.
Harry mal conseguia gemer. Sua boca ficou aberta num “O” delicioso na visão de Louis, vendo como sua garotinha o sentia e o apertava tão bem.
— Louis! — gemeu alto demais o nome do homem, nem tendo a metade do cacete dentro da sua xotinha. — Tira, p-por favor.
— E eu nem coloquei tudo — Louis teve a pachorra de rir na cara de Harry, que fechava todo seu rosto em dor. — Você vai aguentar.
Louis saiu de Harry causando um barulho de sucção. Mudou totalmente sua posição. Pegou as duas pernas da garota e flexionou seus joelhos, deixando ela toda aberta e vulnerável, suas mãos segurando bem na dobra do joelho e da coxa, deixando toda sua buceta exposta e fácil de entrar.
Harry sentiu um alívio quando não tinha mais o pau de Louis a machucando, mesmo querendo muito. E o alívio simplesmente se foi quando o homem empurrou todo seu pau na bucetinha apertada. Harry foi pega desprevenida, totalmente desprevenida. Sem cerimônias e mais nada, Louis enterrou seu pau dentro daquela grutinha apertada, gemendo rouco demais sem querer sair dali e perder o aperto por todo sem comprimento.
— Gostosa pra caralho — Louis gemeu arrastado, dobrando ainda mais as pernas de Harry, mais vidrado na sensação gostosa que era estar dentro dela.
Sem o próprio controle de corpo, Harry sentia sua buceta piscando e pulsando, o que só ocasionava a melhor sensação em Louis. Seus olhos se encontraram e foi simplesmente uma perdição.
— Minha garotinha — Louis a chamou, vendo que o semblante dela estava mais calmo, mostrando prazer ao que se movia lentamente para fora. — Fala pra mim de quem é essa bucetinha, fala?
— S-sua p-papai… Mhn… — Harry fechou os olhos rapidamente mordendo os lábios, como se estivesse comendo o chocolate mais gostoso do mundo, sentindo derreter em sua boca. — Vai devagar, papai… Eu tô gostando…
— Assim, meu bebê? — Louis moveu sua cintura de um jeito tão patético que literalmente rebolava, trazendo seu pau para fora e para dentro, bem aos poucos, amando a sensação de ter seu cacete inteiro dentro da xotinha apertada de Harry. — Não, não, não geme alto.
— Me abraça, Lou — pediu com os braços esticados, as mãozinhas em desespero para sentir seu papai ali.
Louis entrelaçou as pernas de Harry em sua cintura e juntou seus corpos, esmagando os peitos da garota contra seu peitoral e podendo sentir suas barrigas inquietas. Era só isso que bastava para Harry começar a gemer manhosinha, gemendo “uh, uh, uh” a cada estocada lenta e profunda, mal conseguindo abrir os olhos por estar tão dopada de prazer.
Os beijos por todo seu pescoço são distribuídos de forma arrastada por Louis, suas mãos não se aguentam e precisam apertar os peitinhos de Harry, massageando os mamilos já tão durinhos. Tudo numa perfeita harmonia.
Louis olhou rapidamente para baixo, vendo seu pau sumir aos poucos quando voltava a se enterrar inteiro dentro de Harry.
— Você me aperta tanto, princesa, se soubesse o quanto sua bucetinha é gostosa — Louis disse entre os beijos em seu pescoço, aumentando a velocidade de sua cintura. — Vou te encher da minha porra pra você saber que pertence a mim.
— Enche, papai, quero ser só sua — Harry parecia estar em outra dimensão, sentia seu clítoris inchar implorando para ser estimulado. — Mhn… isso, Lou!
Louis foi mais rápido, o barulho molhado de suas estocadas se instalando no quarto foi simplesmente incrível, tanto seus rostos olhando um para o outro em deleite puro e luxúria, Harry segurando o pescoço do homem com as mãozinhas suadas, as sobrancelhas unidas fortemente por ter que aguentar todo o tamanho e grossura daquele cacete cheio de veias, os gemidos mais gostosos do mundo sendo disparados por sua boquinha.
O pré gozo começou a expelir para fora da grutinha de Harry, Louis se deu conta que precisaria ser mais rápido para gozar junto com sua garotinha, a mesma que sussurrava tão baixo que estaria perto de gozar, que até sentia uma sensação de querer fazer xixi. Louis levou seu quadril para cima o máximo que podia, voltando com uma força violenta contra a buceta ardida de Harry, ouvindo as queixas de dor e prazer ao mesmo tempo.
— Eu quero gozar, papai! — Harry exclamou em um tom baixo, agoniada demais. Simplesmente começou a morder o ombro de Louis por não se aguentar.
Louis ignorou totalmente.
Os pulsos de Harry foram presos contra o travesseiro pelas mãos do homem, suas pernas ficaram soltas ao lado seu corpo e Louis decidiu ir tão rápido e tão forte, que podia ouvir a cabeceira da cama batendo contra a parede, Harry gemendo um tanto alto a cada solavanco que Louis causava em seu corpo. Não deram a mínima se tinham mais pessoas na casa, aquele quarto virou o lugar mais sujo e erótico até então.
Harry estava chorando. A ardência que sentia era muita, era demais. Louis não ia parar nem se ela pedisse com jeitinho. Mas gostava tanto de ser boa para Louis, para o seu papai, gostava tanto dos elogios, que era linda e perfeita, apertadinha como ninguém. Era a aprovação de Louis que ela queria e estava recebendo. Não tinha melhor do que isso.
Louis começou a ir tão fundo que podia ver a barriga de Harry salientando, isso só motivou a ir mais fundo, tanto que suas bolas enterravam no meio do bumbum gordinho. Nisso, Harry gemia seu nome da forma mais deliciosa, arrastando as avogais a medida que seu rosto se formava numa expressão de cachorrinha sem dono.
— Goza comigo, Harry — saiu como um sussurro cansado, podia sentir sua testa suando. Não tirou os olhos dos verdes de Harry. — Mostra pra mim que é a garotinha do papai aqui, uhn?
Não durou muito tempo depois disso para que Harry fechasse suas mãos presas sentindo o gozo de Louis por toda sua bucetinha, os dois gemendo em diferentes tons, Harry se contorcendo aos espasmos devido a sensibilidade e Louis sem parar de enterrar seu cacete naquela entrada.
— Papai! A-ah! Eu… Louis, por favor, Louis! — gritinhos e mais gritinhos histéricos, as bochechas de Harry tão molhadas pelas lágrimas que elas percorriam até seu ouvido. Isso só motivou a ir mais fundo, mais do que realmente podia, batendo de propósito sua virilha no quadril da garota. — Louis, m-meu Deus! Tá doendo!
— Porra, Harry, você é surreal — Louis soltou num sussurro, finalmente soltando seus pulsos para poder ser abraçado. — Caralho… você vai ser minha.
— E-eu sou s-sua… — toda ofegante e inquieta, Harry assegurou, sorrindo toda preguiçosa.
Louis fez um jogo de corpo inesperado, deitando na cama e deixando Harry em cima de seu corpo. Ele tirou seu pau para fora e masturbou ali mesmo, um pouco mais só para aliviar sua própria dor do aperto daquela buceta. Tinha pequenos rastros de sangue, Harry notou mas não se assustou, tinha noção que isso podia acontecer.
— Olha, papai — Harry chamou sua atenção, ficando em seus joelhos mostrando sua xotinha escorrendo a porra de Louis. — Olha como você cuidou tão bem de mim.
— Você vai sempre querer ser cuidada por mim, né? — foi uma pergunta retórica, acompanhada de um sorriso canalha e a confirmação de Harry. — Vem aqui, meu bebê, ainda quero ficar dentro de você.
Harry ficou abertinha e deixou Louis entrar dentro de sua buceta novamente. O homem agarrou sua cintura fazendo ela sentar em seu pau, sentindo ele com mais sensibilidade.
— Minha coelhinha — Louis disse indo de encontro a boca de Harry, abraçando todo seu corpinho, sentindo seu pau se aquecer novamente naquela bucetinha tão gostosa.
Isso se repetiria quantas vezes fossem necessárias, quantas vezes Harry e Louis não se aguentassem ficar longe um do outro. Até por que, todo bichinho precisa de seu dono, não é mesmo?
#harry styles#harry edward styles#louis tomlinson#one direction#larry fanfiction#larry stylinson#larry is real#fanfic#louis tomilson#louis william tomlinson#hbottom#ltops#daddy's good girl#daddy’s babygirl#daddy k!nk#bunny girl#intersex#louis and harry#harry and louis#l
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pov: you’re dating rafayel~
#rafayel#the man that you are#I NEED HIM WTF#rafayel x you#rafayel x reader#rafayel x y/n#fanfic#fanfiction#dating#pinterest#love and deepspace#rafayel x mc#l&ds rafayel#l&ds fluff#l&ds smut
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Shoelace Theory
would they tie your shoelaces?
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ғᴏʀᴍᴜʟᴀ ᴏɴᴇ ɢʀɪᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ: ᴏsᴄᴀʀ ᴘɪᴀsᴛʀɪ, ᴅᴀɴɪᴇʟ ʀɪᴄᴄɪᴀʀᴅᴏ, ᴄᴀʀʟᴏs sᴀɪɴᴢ, ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀsᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ, ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇs ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ, ʟᴇᴡɪs ʜᴀᴍɪʟᴛᴏɴ, ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀɪss, ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ ʀᴜssᴇʟʟ, ᴘɪᴇʀʀᴇ ɢᴀsʟʏ, ʏᴜᴋɪ ᴛsᴜɴᴏᴅᴀ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ᴊᴜsᴛ ғʟᴜғғ, sʟɪɢʜᴛ ʀᴜᴅᴇɴᴇss
inspired by orange peel theory
✿
Oscar Piastri:
What? No. You could tie your own shoes. He’s not gonna stop what he’s doing to kneel down and tie your shoes.
“But why?!” You groan, following him around the paddock with your shoes untied. Almost suddenly, you trip. If it wasn’t for Oscar swiftly catching you, you would’ve ate shit.
He begrudgingly kneels down, tying your shoes. “Next time, I won’t tie your shoelaces.”
It was a lie. He did tie your shoelaces the next time.
Daniel Ricciardo:
He’s in the middle of entering his racing car when you ask him does. He looks at you puzzled but then quickly kneels down and ties them. It didn’t surprise you though, his kids must ask him all the time.
You wished him good luck before being ushered out of the garage. After the race, he comes to you with his shoes untied.
“Can you tie them for me?”
Will be salty if you don’t tie them for him
Carlos Sainz:
You asked him in the post-interviews, shamelessly interrupting. He stammers, “Could you excuse me one moment?”. At first you thought he was asking you to excuse him, until he quickly kneels down and ties your shoelaces, giving a small smile as he looks up at you.
He gets back up, mindlessly running his hand through his hair.
“What’d you think of the race?”, Carlos asks you.
“Great results! Proud of you.” You quip, raising your hands and offering a high five in which he quickly reciprocates. He watches you walk away, until he’s knocked out of his trance by the interviewer he had forgotten was still standing in front of him.
Safe to say Carlos is not so great at hiding his little crush on you.
Max Verstappen:
You catch him lacking in the Red Bull garage, and his face falls as soon as he sees you. You were the grid’s prankster and your go-to victim was always Max.
“Leave me alone, please!” He feigns fear, holding his hands up while guarding his face. He flinches when you’re in front of him, leaving you with guilt for all those pranks you’ve played on max. You had the poor boy traumatized.
“Tie my shoestrings, pretty please!” Your words came out innocent. Max looked at you as if you had grown two heads.
Suddenly he stands up, raising a fist towards you, “Get out of here!”. Of course he wasn’t actually going to punch you, he was just pranking you back.
You clench a paper-ball in your back pocket. You slowly pull it out, and instantly throw it at him. You make a run for the door, and frantically start screaming “Help!” as you hear a pair of monster feet stomping behind you.
Charles Leclerc:
He had always been nice to you. Your conversations with him had always been friendly and extremely normal. So of course, when you asked he did it. No questions asked.
The two of you continue your conversation and end up splitting ways shortly after. A few days later, he came to you with a box of converse shoes, in your size.
“So you don’t have to ask people to constantly tie your shoes.” Charles stands by as he watches you open the box, a cute smile placed on his face. He had bought you strap on shoes. He genuinely thought you didn’t know how to tie your shoes.
You did develop a little crush on him because of this.
Lewis Hamilton:
No. He avoids you at all costs. Word had gotten around on the grid about you and your shoelaces. He refused to take part of this tomfoolery and when you asked him all he did was look straight in your eyes.
He stared at you silently. A few moments pass, and suddenly he books it and runs out of the Mercedes garage and leaves you there.
That man runs INCREDIBLY fast.
Lando Noriss:
He was waiting for you to ask him and nearly sheds a tear when you do. This boy feels incredibly honored tying your shoes.
“Why yes, Madam, I will tie your shoes.”
He definitely feels included and takes it as some sort of badge of honor being included in your pranks. He goes around telling everyone about how you asked him to tie your shoes but then he finds out how many people have already tied your shoes. He was under the impression it was only Max and Oscar who had tied your shoes already but when he found out Lewis, Carlos, Charles, and Daniel had already tied your shoes before him, he felt BETRAYED.
This man ignores you for three whole days because of how late he was included. You make it up for him by doing the one thing he loved, including him in pranks. He takes it extremely well when you surprise him by shoving a face in his cake randomly and sprinting away. He laughs and begins speaking terms with you again.
George Russell:
George Russell noticed your shoes. They weren’t regular ones, these were the strap on converse Charles had gotten you. It’s funny really, because somehow they still ended up unstrapped. How was that even possible? Wasn’t the strap made of Velcro or something?
Though there’s no possible way you could hurt yourself by having unstrapped shoes. He watches you for 10 minutes, engaging in conversations with Charles. He hyperfixates on that unstrapped shoe like it’s the end of the world. It irks him to no end.
Maybe it was an ocd thing, but he completely stops the conversation you and Charles had, to stick your strap onto the sticky part of the velcro.
“Your shoe wasn’t strapped.”
Pierre Gasly:
You CAN’T find him. It’s like he completely disappeared from the face of the world, and it sucks because this time you wore your regular laced shoes for the purpose of getting him to tie them.
I mean, he had to turn up at some point, for racing season. The day you finally saw him was during qualifying. Pierre was being interviewed and you took this as your opportunity to sneak up on him.
“Pierre, can you tie-”
“No. So anyways-”
Pierre completely shuts you down, and engages in the interviewers conversation. The interviewer gave you an awkward side-eye, luckily, Max overheard him and quickly runs to the rescue as your partner in crime.
He grabs a firm grip on Pierre’s neck from behind, “Mate, you’re gonna have to tie her shoes.” He adds slight pressure, enough for Pierre to oblige, but not enough to catch a case or a fine from the FIA.
Pierre kneels down with Max’s hand still on his neck and obediently ties your shoestrings. Max lets go of his hold on Pierre once he ties them, and gives you a high five ‘mission accomplished’ style.
Yuki Tsunoda:
Nope. Not unless you tie his shoes. He hears none of your complains and refuses to tie your shoes unless he gets something in return. Honestly, give him a piece of candy and he’ll do it. Unfortunately, you’re too stubborn.
Why won’t he just tie your shoes? Totally not cool. What if you trip, hit your head, and end up in a coma for ten years? It would be entirely his fault.
You fill his mind with all these over exaggerated ways on how you could die by not having him tie your shoelaces. It doesn’t work on him and so you leave him be & angrily huff out the room. He finds himself rethinking all the ways you’ve stated you could have possible died. It’s kind of realistic falling and hitting your head ultimately ending with you in a coma. He begins to spiral and before he knows it his anxiety has taken over his mind. He sets out to look for you, walking into various empty rooms and starts searching even more frantically.
What if you’re already on the floor unconscious??
He whips open the ferrari’s garage door and finds you talking to one of the mechanic’s you made friends with. He looks down at your shoelaces, still untied. He rushes over, double knotting your laces and letting out a sigh of relief before leaving you confused.
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz x you#yuki tsunoda#george russel imagine#george russell#lewis hamilton#oscar piastri x reader#pierre gasly#lando norris#l#daniel ricciardo
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HELLO :0 ok but like what do the dreamies do when bae is clingy😔😔
being clingy with the dreamies.
#nct dream#nct#nct fanfic#nct scenarios#nct drabbles#nct fake texts#nct imagines#nct texts#nct x reader#nct fluff#nct fic#nct imagine#nct scenario#mark lee l#lee jeno#huang renjun#lee donghyuck#na jaemin#park jisung#zhong chenle#nct mark#nct renjun#nct jeno#nct donghyuck#nct jaemin#nct chenle#nct jisung#nct moodboard#nct social media au#nct x yn
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Full
Frankie Morales x afab!Reader
Summary: You want Frankie to knock you up, and fuck, does he wants that, too.
W/C: 1k. (I actually stuck to the word count this time… but at what insanely hot cost?😵💫)
18+ MDNI: Implied established relationship. Literally 0% plot and 100% PORN. Unprotected P in V sex. MAJOR BREEDING KINK. Cumming inside. Slight daddy kink (in the sense that you wanna make Frankie a daddy🫶🏼). One (1) pussy slap. Multiple orgasms. Overstimulation kink. Finger fucking.
Pics for aesthetic purposes only.
A/N: This lil drabble is a part of my 1k follower celebration in response to this yummy request made by @javierpena-inatacvest😵💫 Please take a deep breath and get comfortable while you read this…
ANYWAY, happy Valentine’s Day everyone!!! What better way to celebrate than with Frankie and his breeding kink?😋 Hope you guys enjoy, and please do let me know what you guys think!!!! I love love love your feedback (or- in other words) !!!🤭
MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG || 1K CELEBRATION
“Fuck, Frankie…”
“Taking it so good, querida, fuck-”
“Please- shit- please, Frankie, don’t stop.”
“I’m not, baby,” he moans, eyes threatening to succumb to the back of his skull, “Not gonna fucking stop until you’re full of me, baby, yo prometo.” I promise.
“Sh-shit, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, ohmygod-” your eyes clamp shut, your jaw hangs open, ass up in the air as your tears and drool soak the pillow beneath your face.
Frankie speeds up, pummeling into you hard and fast, his large hands coasting the surface of your ass and your back, groaning at the way you twitch and writhe underneath him. His hands settle at your waist, gripping you tightly, accentuating the arch of you. He’s so fucking deep at this angle, you can feel him hitting your cervix with each thrust forward. It’s an addicting sensation right now—and it will be even later, when the dull ache overtakes you. “Give it to me,” he breathes, “cum all over my cock, querida, needa feel you.”
His hand snakes around to your front, the pad of his fingers meeting your clit, rubbing it in the perfect motion that sends you reeling. Fireworks—no, dynamite, explodes behind the dark of your eyelids, your head adopting that fuzzy feeling, your body following suit not long after. “So fucking good, you feel so fucking good, Frankie, oh my God- oh fuck-” you ramble partially incoherently.
Your thighs are jello, unable to keep yourself up as Frankie continues fucking into you; his arm wraps around your middle, his other pawing at your breast. He pulls you up to be flush against his chest as he begs your alter for his own release. “I’m c- mierda- I’m close,” he whimpers right at your ear.
Mustering up as much strength as you can, you twist your head to face him, your hand reaching up and rooting yourself at the back of his messy curls. You yank his head towards you, crashing his mouth against yours. It’s sloppy and wet, swallowing each other’s tongues whole as the thickness of your shared breaths melt into one. Breaking away with a bite to his kiss-swollen lower lip, you whisper into his mouth, “cum inside me, Frankie, please.”
“Baby-” he chokes, his hips speed up, arousing him beyond what he thought was possible. “Want you in me for days, Francisco,” you whimper, licking a stripe on his neck, collecting the salty liquid running down. His hand makes its way back to your throbbing bud.
Your body goes lax in his hold, you secure your grip at the base of his neck, keeping your faces close to each other. He watches with heavy eyes as you struggle to keep your gaze on his, your brows furrowing slightly as your eyelids begin to flutter. “Need you-” you start, a throaty moan cutting you off. “Need you inside me- need you to fuck it so deep, baby,” you sob, “that it has no choice but to fucking take- fuck-”
Frankie’s heart stutters and his cock twitches. “Yeah?” he grits between his teeth. “Want me to fuck you full?” A particularly hard thrust sends you cross-eyed, your nails digging into his neck. “Want me to fucking get you pregnant right now, baby?”
An appreciative little slap to your slippery clit jolts your eyes open, his lustful gaze with a hint of something more—like adoration, like pure devotion—stares you down. You pull him into you once more, a clash of spit and teeth and tongue—you can even taste a hint of your own arousal from when he ate you out before you were begging him to knock you up. “Please- fuck- yes, baby, yes- fucking- let me make you a daddy, baby, please- want you- need it- need you so fucking bad-”
Fuck. Frankie’s pace falters, his hips stammer as his orgasm consumes him—his cum painting your warm walls, filling you up to the brim. You moan at the sensation, your hips thrusting backwards into him, and before you realize it, you’re cumming again, both your bottom halves an utter mess of each other’s arousal.
Frankie softly slips from your heat, and you both hiss at the loss. He releases his hold on you, guiding you onto your back, his hands settling on the insides of your thighs to keep you open for him. His eyes can’t leave the way your pussy looks right now—completely fucked out, shiny with your slick, and filled with his cum. You feel it start to leak out of your hole, and you whine, the feeling so sensitive but dizzying, knowing you’re overflowing with Frankie.
Before you know it, his fingers are collecting the dripping spend, bringing it back to your entrance, and slowly, his fingers enter you, the initial push inward causing more of his cum to seep out of you, but he’s quick to catch the leakage, pushing it back inside of you, where it needs to be.
With one hand holding one thigh down and the other inside of your sex, Frankie’s entranced, starting up a delicious pace fucking into you with his fingers. You’re a moaning mess of curses mixed with his name, overstimulation taking over your body, but you don’t want him to stop.
He couldn’t even if he tried. He’s too caught up in the notion that after this, his sperm could latch, and in nine months from now, you’d be big and round and glowing carrying the product of your love. Fuck, he needs this to work. He’ll fill you up every fucking day if that’s what it takes.
He’s pulled from his trance when a heady moan roars from your throat, “F-fuck, fuck, Frankie, I’m gonna fucking cum again! Oh my god, baby- fuck-”
His eyes are on your face: pure ecstasy, he’s seeing, in the way your head throws back into your pillow, only the white of your eyes showing, as the veins pop out your neck as you scream out in pleasure.
He slides his fingers out, slick with a mixture of both of your arousal, and brings it up to your mouth. He knows how much you love to taste.
Immediately you open up, lapping up your combined flavors greedily, a content, blissful smile plastered lazily on your face.
“Am I full, baby?” You mumble.
“So full, querida,” he whispers, laying his body over yours, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.
“Do you think…” you trail off softly, nervous.
“I don’t know, mi amor,” he breathes, kissing your chest. “Guess we’ll just have to keep you full everyday until we can check, huh?”
Your cheeks heat up, your exhausted pussy already fluttering in anticipation. “Y-yeah. I guess so.”
End note:
LOLOL GUYS I, UH.. I REALLY WENT HARD ON THIS ONE, I'M SORRY BUT ALSO I'M NOT SORRY ASDFGFDFH PLS LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS THINK <3 YOUR GUYS' WORDS MEAN THE WORLD TO ME, I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH
Also how you doing, babe @javierpena-inatacvest?? You alive? Still with me?? I LOVE YOU AHAHAHAH
#L's 1k follower celebration#endless thoughts fics#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#smut#pedrostories#drabble#triple frontier fic#triple frontier fanfic#triple frontier smut#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales x you#francisco catfish morales#francisco morales fanfiction#frankie morales smut#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales#francisco morales x f!reader#francisco morales smut#francisco morales
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(x)
#archive of our own#ao3 quotes#ao3 stuff#archive of our own quotes#fanfic#fanfic quotes#funny#ao3#ao3 tags#coffee shop au#this fic has unraveled l#honestly this is me w most of my fics#I tried to write a one shot#and it somehow got multiple chapters#and I thought ‘okay we’ll just make this 2-3 chapters’#and now it’s ten chapters long#so…yknow
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Y/N swap between So(u)l and Solar Lunacy by @bamsara hsdgs
#sun#moon#fnaf#so(u)l#au#y/n#y/ngineer#solar lunacy#fanfic#swap#au swap#security breach#daycare attendant#dca#sundrop#moondrop
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distraction ⭑ l. lawliet
summary: during a late night working on the kira case with L, his distractions become too overpowering and the two of you decide to blow off some steam.
( part 2 here ! )
pairing: l. lawliet x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT!! MINORS DNI!!! this gets a little filthy actually. virgin!L, praise, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy), L is needy as hell, also he swears like 3 times i think so
authors note: hiiii this isn’t proofread and it’s 4am enjoy
smut under the cut‼️
every night working with you was a long one. in the beginning it was because, try as he might, L could not seem to get you to remember the simplest things you were supposed to do to help him out. you’d forget how many sugars he took in his tea, or forget where you had filed something away the night before, whatever it was it always got on L’s nerves.
not like he could say something to you, he was always fearful that he would hurt your feelings or that you would think he was much more upset than he really was, and that would impact your work.
nowadays however, now that your working together was no longer a new thing and the both of you had gotten into more of a routine, L began to attribute the long nights to simply one thing, you.
he wasn’t sure exactly why, but he found himself distracted from the task at hand most nights of the week, usually thinking instead about how nice it is that you help him out with so much and how enjoyable it is to work with somebody as smart as you. right now in particular though, he was realizing just the reason you were becoming such a distraction.
thanks to his crunched posture, you were blissfully unaware of the growing distraction that laid underneath the zipper of his jeans.
when you’d first joined him that evening, the sight of you descending from your room adorned in pyjamas that left alarmingly little to the imagination, only being aided by a knit cardigan left hanging open, a sudden pulse shot through his body and left L truly praying you couldn’t see the tent forming in his pants. it wasn’t as if L didn’t realize before how attractive you are, but things like that had never affected him the way they were now.
if she would just button up that sweater. maybe then i’d be able to get some work done.
“hellooo?” the sweet sound of your voice interrupted his thoughts, “ryuzaki, did you hear a word i just said?”
“er- no, my apologies. what was it you were saying?”
you playfully rolled your eyes at him and stood as you spoke again, “i said, i’m going to make another tea. do you want anything?”
just to make this throbbing go away so i can get back to work. “no, thank you. hurry back though will you? i’m not getting through this as quickly as i’d like to so i’ll need as much of your help as i can get.”
he watched you hurry out of the room to make your tea and tried hard not to take notice of how little the back of your shorts covered or the sway in your hips as you walked. he placed a hand over his clothed erection and allowed his head to fall back onto the chair, a quick sigh escaping him at the accidental friction.
his few moments of solace came to an end quickly when you came back into the room, giving him little time to sit up and readjust before you took your seat in the chair next to him. almost immediately you scooted over closer and held out a closed fist in front of him, “give me your hand.”
L stretched his hand out underneath yours, a small wrapped candy falling into his palm.
“i grabbed one for you from the bowl in the kitchen.” you said as you unwrapped one of your own.
he watched carefully as the candy brushed your lips before you gently placed it on your tongue, his breathing steadily becoming more heavy and intense and he could feel every pump of blood circulating through his veins, “thank you.”
“are you alright? you look a little flushed. i can turn down the heat if you want, i did turn it up a bit a little while ago.” you started to stand.
“no!” the tips of his ears began to burn with embarrassment as he quickly stood in her place, urging her back into her chair so she wouldn’t be able to see anything, “uh- no, thank you. you just sat back down, i can get it.”
L tried to steady his breathing on the walk over to the thermostat, taking this time with his back turned to attempt to shift his erection in a way it would go unseen. hesitating to turn back around, he scurried back over to his chair with his head down and hoped to whatever god might be listening that you didn’t get a chance to see.
god, how unprofessional. if she noticed, our professional relationship will be tarnished indefinitely and she’d never trust me again. not that i would really blame her, i mean how would that seem, she’s alone at night with her boss and he’s sporting an erection.
unfortunately for L, you had noticed, you actually had noticed back when you got up to get your tea but you weren’t sure if you were just fantasizing imagining things. you were sure of what you saw on his strange walk back to his seat.
while he was lost in his own worry, L failed to notice you moving your chair so your arms were practically touching until he felt you peering in front of him.
he snapped his head back, “what are you doing?”
“just looking at what you’ve got over here. if you weren’t hogging it the whole time i wouldn’t have to invade your space.”
L clutched his knees closer to his chest, at the point of being unable to hide his unsteady and shallow breaths. he wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say to get out of the position he was now in to decide what happened next.
you turned around to look at him, presumably asking him something about what you’d just read. he tried to hear you, he really did, but over his pounding heartbeat and mind full of thoughts all he could do was watch your mouth move in what felt like slow motion.
“i’m sorry, can you please say that again?” he could barely hear his own muffled words. you were so close to him and he could see directly down your top from where he was sat, not that it helped much that you were leaned directly into his eye-line.
you placed your hand on his knee and he thought he was going to throw his stomach up, “i just asked what you thought about these men from the yotsuba group. ryuzaki, seriously is everything okay?”
he wanted to answer but before he could even try you spoke again, “maybe you need to put the case down for a while, y’know, blow off some steam.”
finally, he looked you in the eye, “please forgive me.”
before you got a chance to ask what for, both of his hands held your face as he leaned forward, planting a hesitant but desperate kiss on your lips. he was sure that the moment he pulled away, your involvement in this case and his life was going to crumble in front of him.
to his surprise, he barely had a second to take a breath before you were gripping onto his shirt and pulling him back in. every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire, you were practically on top of him and he couldn’t help but try and pull you in closer, reaching for your jaw and your waist and practically anything he could get his hands on. his body was moving by itself and solely on instinct, making him feel a little self conscious about if he was doing the right things. his mind was soon put at ease when he felt his arms fall slack and your weight shift over him, the closer you got the better. you pulled away just slightly to take a breath and his legs fell to a normal position, hurriedly kissing you again and hoping you would just understand and sit down so he didn’t have to try and speak right now.
“ryuzaki—“
“L.” he interjected, “please i— please call me L. just here.”
you smiled, “L, are you sure this is alright?”
“one hundred percent.” his hands still holding onto your waist for dear life, you held his face with yours as you closed the small gap that remained between the two of you. he let out a small, involuntary groan when he felt your thighs press around his hips, “i’m going to need some guidance here, as i’m sure you’ve guessed this isn’t something i have any prior experience with.”
“don’t worry, i’ll teach you.” gently, you began to grind down on him, earning a deep sigh from L and his hands making their way from your waist down to your hips, using his white-knuckled grip to help you slowly along.
“that- that feels incredible. y/n- please i don’t know if i can hold out.” his cheeks were flushed bright red—probably the most colour you’d ever seen on his face—and he looked down to where the only things standing in his way was his jeans and those godforsaken pyjama shorts you wore, “not that i want to go quickly through this, in fact that’s less than ideal it’s just— this is getting rather painful. i need— shit, can i please, you know.”
to put him out of his misery, you hushed him with a kiss and got to work on undoing the button on his pants. you’d barely gotten it undone when his hands pushed yours out of the way, pushing both his pants and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free.
you were glad you were already sitting down. not that you were expecting to be disappointed by the size of course, but just seeing it now made you feel a little nervous. drool nearly threatened to escape your mouth before you snapped back into it, making a mental note that you would have to do that another time.
L looked up to you, one hand pushing your shorts to the side trying not to cum right there when he realized you hadn’t been wearing underwear and the other slowly stroking himself, awaiting your approval.
the look on his usually-blank face would’ve been enough to make anybody weak, “L, please.”
he wasted no time in lifting your hips up and pushing himself in, pausing after just the tip to breathe and calm himself down. you could feel his hands trembling during his failed attempt to keep his composure, opting to ease yourself onto him instead.
he let out a shaky breath that caught in his throat when you’d fully sat back down. you yourself were trying to breathe through the intense feelings already taking over your whole body, you weren’t even sure you’d be able to take him fully, and now that you had you felt more full than you ever had in your life.
“let me know when it’s okay to move,” you whispered by his ear, “we’ll go as slow as you need.”
his hands returned to their spot on your hips, “dear god, move.”
you started off slow, his cock only coming out about an inch or two before pushing right back in. his head was spinning, you were invading his every sense. all he could smell was your shampoo, the taste of the candy you’d eaten still remaining both of your tongues. all he wanted to do was show you what he was feeling. he didn’t have the words to even begin to try and explain it. as if they had a mind of their own, his hips began to meet your movements, quickly picking up in speed and overtaking your control.
“fuck! that’s it— L, please.” you couldn’t say much more than that, every word being punctuated with a hushed moan, but the praise drove him crazy. any hesitation he’d had before was forgotten about, and he let his instincts take over. after all, he’d learned to always trust his instincts, why would now be any different?
he knew he wasn’t going to last very long, yet he couldn’t help pushing your hips down to meet his thrusts, hitting your g-spot with every one and making you practically cry out. if it weren’t for the quiet chants of ‘please’ he’d have thought you really were crying.
you could feel your orgasm approaching soon, and as if like he could read your mind L lifted a hand to push your shirt up above your chest and dipped his head down to take one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking so gently compared to the harshness of his cock.
your arms wrapped around his head, hands tugging at the roots of his hair which earned you a deep groan into your chest. with every thrust you were getting closer and closer, his mouth having moved on to kiss your neck with the same desperation he’s harboured since the first time.
“i’m so close, god please don’t stop. —feels so good.” you begged, throat dry and still panting and holding his hair for dear life.
“fuck,” he began losing the rhythm he had been trying to keep to, “i’m— i’m going to orgasm. i need you, please.”
his hips started to stutter as he reached his peak, panting and whining into your ear and wrapping his arms tightly around your back. the feeling of you coming undone and squeezing around him just made it that much more intense, his face felt so hot he buried it into the crook of your neck.
by the time both of your movements had come to a halt, he was laying back in the chair clutching onto you, head still held tightly to your chest and cock beginning to go soft inside you. L never wanted to move.
the embarrassment and nervousness was slowly returning and he felt his cheeks get hot again, so he tried to focus on the sweet smell of your shampoo that engulfed him to calm himself.
after a few long, perfect minutes, you broke the silence, “was that okay?”
“that was amazing.” his head remained tucked into your neck, “i’m sorry if i wasn’t very good at it, and that i couldn’t last any longer.”
“don’t be ridiculous, L it was fantastic. we’ll have plenty of time to build up your stamina if you really want to.”
and just like that at the thought that this could happen to him more than once, he felt the blood rush back into his cock and you suddenly remembered something you’d wanted to do earlier.
“why don’t you let me show you how good you made me feel, huh?”
#l lawliet x reader#l lawliet#l lawliet smut#l lawliet fanfiction#l lawliet fanfic#death note smut#death note fic#death note
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How to function your very tall boyfriend
Having troubles reaching things that are too high for you? Don't fret. That's what having a really tall boyfriend for.
A request by Sora.
🌻 Character x F!Reader
Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel and Caleb (first time writing for Caleb <3)Tags: soft, sweet, lovers, established relationship.This fic is for short girlies like me out there <3
Masterlist
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𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓
You stood on tiptoe, reaching the full length of your arm towards the row of shelves in front of you. A finger touched the box but you still couldn't get it. You looked around the archives, looking for the help of a ladder, chair, or anything. Then, the door opened, and you saw Xavier's face peeking inside.
Without waiting for him to speak, you waved to your savior. You looked at him, then pointed to the box located at the highest position on the shelf.
"You want me to get it down for you?"
You gave him a nod. And, with a gust of wind, he appeared right next to you.
Your hair was still hanging over your face from the breeze that had just passed. When you recovered consciousness, you noticed that the box you required was in Xavier's hands.
“Wooooooooow!”
That was all you could say. Your eyes widened and looked at him, mixed with admiration and gratitude.
Xavier maintained a somewhat tired expression on his face. He handed you the package and said in a calm tone:
“Do you need anything else?”
Your gaze was still locked on Xavier. As usual, he was already quite attractive, but when he rushed to your side and grabbed stuff for you in the blink of an eye, his coolness grew tremendously in proportion to your heartbeat.
"I need… that one!"
You pointed your finger at another row of shelves. In truth, you already had everything you needed for the mission, but watching more of Xavier using his skills in bringing everything from a higher place down for you wouldn't hurt.
"Okay."
As soon as he finished speaking, Xavier dashed to the shelf before returning to your side. All in a blink of an eye!
"That one too!" You pointed your finger in another way. "This one! That one! Two up there!…”
In only a few minutes, all the boxes stacked on high shelves were brought down and placed around you to form a wall made of cardboard.
"Woooooooow! "Xavier, you're so cool!"
You couldn't help but blurt out, causing the skin on his face below his blue eyes to grow scarlet. He came closer, put the last box in your hand and said:
“I've taken down all the things from higher shelves for you. Isn't it time I received my reward?”
Caught off guard when he suddenly leaned closer, you blushed a little in reply:
“Y-You… What do you want then…?…”
Xavier smiled mysteriously. He turned sideways and pointed at his cheek.
“You already know.”
Embarrassed, you placed a quick kiss on it. Xavier seemed unsatisfied.
“You really don't need all of these boxes, right? I heard that Jena will cut off the bonuses if she catches anyone tampering with the team's records. I can assist you clean up, but the prize must be more than this."
You chuckled. You'd become accustomed to his solicitation tactics.
"Please help me then. I assure you'll be pleased with the latter prize." After that, you lifted up his chin and gave Xavier an even deeper kiss on the opposite cheek.
𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆
You were used to visiting Zayne's house every weekend or on days off. Even when he was not home, you still liked to be there waiting for his return. You had a habit of eating snacks, especially sweets. So you brought a lot of things to his house to eat together. And always, he kept them nicely organized in the refrigerator or cupboards over the stove.
But sometimes, he put them out of your reach. At moments like that, you called out his name from the kitchen.
“Doctor Zayne. Doctor Zayne. Doctor Zayneeeee.”
He appeared soon after. On the bridge of his nose was still a pair of reading glasses. He carefully adjusted it and sighed.
“What do you need this time?”
“That jar of fruit gummies.” You pointed at it.
“I'm not your ladder.” Despite his grumbling, Zayne still took it down for you. With his height, it did not appear to be a problem at all.
"Thank you." You said. “I don't want to bother you. Why did you have to put my snacks so high up there?”
“I put it away so some sweet-loving worm doesn't eat too much.”
“I'm not a worm.” You replied, pouting. Zayne patted your head.
"Alright. Would you like anything else?"
Zayne kept telling you not to eat too many snacks, but he still took them all down. He separated them into parts and placed them on a large plate. The rest was put away to make sure you did not consume too much.
Knowing he was concerned about your health, you didn't ask for anything else but ate all of the treats he brought out. However, it was only when Zayne was away that you could properly appreciate his caring nature. Outside your snack cupboard was a letter with Zayne's handwritten words, which you took forever to read. It turned out he had moved your food to another place within your reach. Inside that cabinet was a candy tray with a lid. Zayne had prepared everything for you, with one additional note: Don't eat too much.
You burst out laughing. In response to his concern, you decided to rearrange his working space. Because he had left in a hurry to go to the hospital that day, his books were still not put away. That night, you caught him walking back and forth in front of his bookshelf, his expression rather serious.
“Did you rearrange the bookshelf?”
"Yes."
You replied. He placed his both hands on the bookshelf in front of him, skimming through the book titles printed on the spine. The book he had been reading in the morning was nowhere to be seen. Rather, you slithered right into the gap between his arms, making him turn to face you.
The sudden close distance made him a bit surprised. However, he maintained his composure and gazed down at you. The book he was looking for was in your hand. He smiled:
"What's wrong? You couldn't put it back since you found its place to be too high?"
You said with a pout, "If that's the case, then I won't give it to you."
You hid the book behind your back. WWho would have imagined that Dr. Zayne would boldly lean down, one arm around your waist to draw you in, while the other hand taking the book away from you.
You could hear his heartbeat matching yours as he pressed his body against you to return that book to its proper place on the shelf. He looked down at you, who was extremely confused. You asked:
“Aren't you going to read it?”
"No. I'm preoccupied with something else.”
He leaned down again, and kissed you.
𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍
Your favorite store had just been redecorated, and the items you needed had been moved elsewhere. Most of them were within your reach, but some decorations with lights were located high up. You turned around to look for help, but the store staff was already busy with another customer. So you looked in the other direction, where you found Rafayel staring at some little decorative fish bowls.
“Rafayel. Please help me get this thing.”
Rafayel turned to face whichever way your finger was pointing. He would waste no effort to reach the lamp you needed. He placed his hand on a spherical night lamp.
"Is this the one?"
"Not that one. The one in purple.”
His hand went to another. "This?"
“Nooooo. I said the purple one…”
"This one has purple in it." Rafayel put his hand on a purple lamp, but it wasn't what you wanted.
“Rafayel. The purple one. In the shape of a jellyfish."
“Hmm…” Rafayel pretended not to see what you described, even though it was right in front of him. "All I see is a seahorse and a whale."
He's definitely teasing you. You scowled:
“I'm not joking with you, Rafayel. Get the jellyfish lamp!”
“Are you sure?” He reposed the question with great seriousness. “This jellyfish is so ugly and painful to look at that my eyes automatically ignore it.”
You puffed your cheeks and said each word clearly: “Take. That. Jellyfish. Lamp!"
"Okay." Rafayel gave a shrug. At last, his hand found the precise object you wanted. He lifted it. But instead of placing it in your eagerly outstretched palms, he put it on a higher shelf.
“Rafayel!” YYou yelled out of rage. He grinned from ear to ear.
“Here, you told me to take it, so I took it. You didn't mention that I had to give it to you"
“You!… Argghhh!…”
You were so furious that you failed to speak. You stood on your tiptoes and jumped up, trying to grab the item, but Rafayel raised the object entirely.
“Give it to me! Give it to me!” You danced in a circle around Rafayel, who was clutching the jellyfish lamp like a trophy. All eyes in the store turned to both of you. You stopped. Your face was red, both from anger and embarrassment.
You looked at Rafayel, who was teasing you with that handsome but punchable face. Then, like a light bulb had just turned on in your head, you thought of a way to "repress" him.
Your hands stretched out. Rafayel thought you were aiming for the lamp so he raised it even higher. But it was his collar you were after. He wasn't on guard so you pulled him down so easily, so close. Until your lips touch his delicate ones.
Rafayel rolled his eyes. He was so surprised. Taking advantage of the situation when his arm was gradually falling, you immediately grabbed the jellyfish lamp and stepped back, holding it triumphantly in your arms.
“Ha! I snatched it from you!”
Rafayel was in disbelief. He had earlobes the color of ripe tomatoes. With one hand softly brushing his lips, he turned to face you.
“You… cheated.” He said, "In that case, you can snatch me too!"
𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃
It had been a long time since both Caleb and you had a chance to go home to visit Grandma. A family meal was inevitable. He took you to the supermarket near your house to shop and prepare dinner.
Caleb knew too much about your taste. You simply followed him and let him select nearly everything. But when you were walking by the snack shelves, your gaze unintentionally paused at the top row, where there was a particular kind of cookie that you and Caleb used to enjoy together as children.
After noticing your halt, Caleb turned to face you.
“Oh, they still sell this?” He spoke up.
“I want to buy it!” You told him. One hand reached up but you couldn't get the snacks. You heard Caleb laughing hysterically next to you. You folded your arms and pouted: "What are you laughing at?" Why don't you get it for me?"
"I assumed you could handle anything on your own since you're already an adult." Caleb made a joke. “Remember when we were kids? Every time you couldn't reach something, you ran to me and tugged my arm?”
You reminisced about your childhood days. Whenever you needed to get something from a high place, the first person you called was Caleb. He would bend down so you could climb on his shoulders and then carry you like that until you got what you wanted.
“Yeah. I remember." You replied. “But why— Ouch!”
Caleb suddenly bent down, wrapped his muscular arms around your thighs and lifted you up.
“Caleb?! What are you doing?!" Your arms wrapped around Caleb's neck, holding on tight as if your life depended on this. You looked down at Caleb's grinning face. He responded:
“I'm helping you get your cookies.”
“N-Not like this!…” You blushed. You had grown up and no longer the innocent little girl you used to be. Being lifted up by him like this made you extremely timid. “People… People are looking at us…”
“Ignore them.” Caleb paid no attention to his surroundings. “Just look at me.”
You felt the heat radiating from your cheeks. Caleb didn't stop there, he asked you:
"Ready?"
"Huh?"
Without waiting for your response, he spun around so fast in that posture, which made you scream suddenly. You leaned entirely on Caleb, counting on him to keep you both balanced. He continued to rotate a few more times, before becoming lightheaded himself. Then he came to a complete halt and rested his back against the shelf.
You both burst into laughter. Laughing until your stomach muscles start to hurt. But Caleb still didn't let you go. He breathed heavily and said:
“I just remembered. Besides helping you get things from high places, I also helped you climb that wall when you snuck out without Gran knowing!"
“It was completely your idea!” You pinched his nose. “After that, both of us got grounded by Grandma.”
"Sorry." Caleb chuckled. “Shall I make it up to you with cookies?”
“Then help me up a little higher.” You uttered it out with joy. “Let's buy all the cookies here!”
#fanfiction#fanfic#heart hunters series#love and deepspace fanfic#character x reader#character x mc#zayne#xavier#caleb#rafayel#zayne x mc#zayne x reader#zayne x you#caleb x mc#caleb x reader#caleb x you#rafayel x mc#rafayel x reader#rafayel x you#xavier x mc#xavier x reader#xavier x you#li shen#shen xinghui#xia yizhou#qi yu#lnd#l&d#banners and dividers by me
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fanfiction is so great. like it's just saying, "hey love that character, imma take their name and the vaguest bits of their personality and just see what happens" like canon sirius is absolutely nothing compared to the sheer greatness of fanon sirius
#fanfic#fanfiction#sirius black#marauders#the marauders era#sirius orion black#canon should just take the l
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