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thebearer · 3 days

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nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.

based off this prompt from the other day :)

contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.

“Alright, listen up,” Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. “We need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.”

“Yes, Chef!” A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmen’s pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line.

“And for table nine, we’ve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So let’s triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?” Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket.

“Yes, Chef!” Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock.

“Table nine, is that- that’s the senator?” Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoria’s station, giving her a curt nod of approval.

“No, that’s table eleven.” Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. “Nine, is… a birthday. Booked online.” Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one.

The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name?

You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. You’d even invited him over to your place a few times, he’d spent the night last week.

Still, Carmen hadn’t managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmen’s life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasn’t purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasn’t ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself.

“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. “Chef, are you- are you good?” Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows.

“What?” Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richie’s frame blocking most of it. “Sorry, yeah- yeah, I’m good, Chef.”

Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richie’s eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window.

There you were.

Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. He’d actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadn’t felt since junior high.

“Alright, walk five salads to nine.” Sydney called out. “Where’s our runners? God, Richie, can you run-”

“-I got it.” Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it.

“Cousin, I can get it.” Richie frowned.

“No, I-I got it.” Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. “I got it. I’ll be- I’ll just be a second.”

“I don’t- I can’t even handle that one right now.” Sydney sighed in exasperation. “Alright, Chefs. Let’s get back on track.” She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone.

Sugar’s cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it.

From: Richie

‘Look at table nine.’

Sugar huffed.

To: Richie

‘Why? Is there something wrong?’

She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen?

To: Richie

‘Is something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?’

From: Richie

‘No. Cousin wanted to go out there.’

Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end.

Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. “Hey,”

“Hi,” You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. “Everything looks so good.”

“Yeah? Thanks.” Carmen nodded. “I-I didn’t know you were comin’ tonight.”

“I’m sorry.” You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldn’t have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced.

“I, uh, it’s my friend’s birthday.” You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. “And I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.” Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them.

“Yeah, no, that’s really nice. Thank you.” Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didn’t see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. “Why didn’t- Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me you were comin’ in.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You muttered softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d even see us here, I swear. I didn’t mean to bother you or anything-”

“-You’re not bothering me.” Carmen’s voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. “Never a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.”

Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmen’s own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin.

“Alright?” Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge.

“Alright.” You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his.

“How’s everything so far?” Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee.

“Just let me know if you need anything, ok?” Carmen turned to you.

“I will.” You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection.

“Good. I’ll see you before you leave, alright?” Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. “You’re not botherin’ me. ‘M glad you’re here.”

Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight.

Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydney’s gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fak’s wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out.

“Hey, uh, Marcus.” Carmen ignored Richie’s raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue.

“Yes, Chef?” Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing.

“Table nine has a birthday. I was thinkin’ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?” Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face.

“Yeah, Chef, I can do that.” Marcus nodded.

“Thank you.” Carmen nodded. “And Chef? Let me know when it’s ready before you walk it.”

Marcus frowned. “No, it’s not- I just wanna walk it, ok?” Carmen shook his head.

“Alright.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Heard, Chef.”

Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. “So,” Richie hummed. “There a complaint or somethin’? Need me to go talk to ‘em-”

“-No,” Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. “Sorry, it’s- No, I-I don’t need you to do that, Chef. Everything’s good.”

Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. “You gonna tell me what that was about?”

“No, Chef.” Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. “But, uh, there’s not gonna be a check on table nine.”

“What?” Richie frowned. “Did you mess somethin’ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong it’s my job to know-”

“-No, it’s not-.” Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, that’s… The girl on the end? I-I’ve been kinda seein’ her, ya know?” He muttered.

Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. “No shit.” He grinned. “No shit? You-You’re serious?” He turned to look out the window.

“Don’t fuckin’ look.” Carmen hissed. “Look, it-it’s not a big deal, alright? Just don’t-don’t say anything o-or do anything.”

Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger.

This time, Richie held back. He wasn’t sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time.

“Alright.” Richie nodded slowly. “No ticket for nine. Heard.”

Carmen’s foot tapped anxiously. “I mean, right? Th-That’s what I should do right?” Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. “That would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?”

“Yeah,” Richie scoffed lightly. “Jagoff of the fuckin’ year. Makin’ your girl pay to come to your place.”

Carmen’s heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl.

“Walk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.” Sydney called.

Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. “So, you gonna take these out?” He muttered.

“No,” Carmen huffed. “Gonna wait until the cake.”

“Yeah, good idea, Cousin.” Richie nodded with a proud smile. “That when you’re gonna tell them no check tonight?”

“No,” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t- It would feel weird comin’ from me.” He looked up at Richie. “I was gonna let you do it.”

“Yeah, I can handle that.” Richie smirked. “And I won’t say anything, Cousin.” He stopped Carmen before he could say it. “I got you, Cousin. I won’t fuck it up, alright?”

Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmen’s heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.

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look-at-the-soul · 19 hours

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Every little thing you do - Part 6

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

🥰So another part to this series, thank you so much for all your support and encouragement! It means the world ♥️ and as I take your feedback seriously, I can assure you Tommy will be looking for a housekeeper substitute 🤭

Word count: 3,138

Y/N prayed silently her dress would close, Ada suggested getting it slightly loose at certain places just in case, because overnight, her belly was showing and most of her clothes wouldn’t fit anymore. It was funny because it only looked as if she was bloated but it was enough for a zipper to break.

“You ready?” Polly asked just as she knocked on the door, stepping in right away. As usual, she looked so elegant in her attire.

“Her dress is beautiful Mrs. Gray.” Y/N’s grandma pointed out making Y/N blush, she then turned to Polly. “And you look stunning.”

Polly nodded acknowledging her compliment.

“I can’t believe I’m wearing this gown.” Y/N stated staring at her reflection in the mirror, she looked like a completely different person with her hair up in a simple but elegant hairstyle, make up in just the right places, accenting her features, and the dress fit like a glove. She had never had a dress like this.

“You need something else though.” Her grandma suggested, she looked beautiful in her attire too, the Shelby family were too kind to extend an invitation for her.

Opening her bag, Y/N frowned confused by what she meant, she had everything already.

“Your grandfather gave me these when we got married.” From a velvet pouch, she produced a pair of gorgeous diamond studs.

“I think these will look beautiful.” Polly encouraged, feeling a swept of love by the exchange.

Y/N on the other hand felt lost for words, to some it might be a small detail, but to her, the sentimental value it’s what weighted the most.

“These are meant to be wear on occasions like this, right?” She asked holding one of the earrings for her granddaughter while she hooked the other one.

“Looks like you’re all set then… let’s welcome the guests.” Polly added taking grandma’s purse to help her. “Everything’s going accordingly so far.”

The music filled the big room, people were dancing happily, champagne flowing, staff filling empty cups with booze and plates with appetizers. Y/N felt particularly mesmerized by the chandeliers catching the light beautifully and reflecting all around as if it was dancing as well.

Tommy insisted the party should take place in Arrow House, said it would be a good excuse to do a grand opening, so she immediately got busy to have everything ready. The place oozed luxury everywhere she looked, the most important names in the country RSVP’ed faster than she thought. Never in her wildest dreams she imagined how it would turn out, she spent so much time choosing flowers for the center pieces, napkins colors to go with the tablecloths, tableware as well as the menu, days of hard work paying off finally on this night and for a brief instant, she allowed herself to feel proud because she took care meticulously of everything.

“I’ll be back in a minute, need an ashtray.” Polly announced and took grandma by the arm to chat for a while.

Y/N was taking everything in, still not fully believing it was a reality.

“Johnny, get everyone in the kitchen.” He instructed. “Five minu-“ words got caught up in his throat as he took a double look to his left and found Y/N standing by herself next to the staircase.

Her hair was pinned up, framing her face so it was fully on display instead of hiding, the dress made her look gorgeous but the cherry on top was the glowing emanating from within her heart, pregnancy was suiting her well. He then noticed she opened and closed the handbag nervously.

She wasn’t the same girl that used to run with him a race at an open fiel until they reached the river. He let her win so many times… yet that girl was somehow still in her.

He had never seen her like that before. She was more beautiful than he imagined.

But as soon as the thought entered his mind, Tommy kicked himself mentally. He shouldn’t think of her that way.

“Are you planning to give someone a heart attack?” He joked and took a few long strides to be at her side.

“I’m nervous,” she chuckled, “I’m the one having a heart attack.”

Turning around to face him, she felt her mouth going dry, the blue suit was a fabulous choice. It wasn’t traditional, but when she saw it at the tailor’s shop she knew Tommy had to wear it to the event and since she got a blank cheque, she added it to the account. He was so bloody handsome, but she thought that he looked even more that night. There, with a cocked smile and proud shining in his crystal eyes…

They stood there holding each other’s gazes, the people in the background fading away…

Until Johnny Dogs interrupted them.

“The boys are on their way Tom.” He nodded at Y/N. “Are we going, yeah?”

Tommy gave Y/N another look and she encouraged him with a smile to go.

He started to walk away, but then stopped abruptly and turning around he spoke; “Y/N you did an amazing job, thank you.”

Reaching his expectations was all Y/N wanted to achieve, to make him proud of her work. It was the way she knew in retribution to thank him for every little thing he did.

“And Johnny? Y/N told me she counted the paintings ey?” Tommy turned to give her wink. “So you better tell your kin they can’t steal anything or they’ll have to deal with a very pissed Y/N.”

Y/N gasped, of course she didn’t count the paintings. An evident blush covered her face and neck and she started shaking her head in embarrassment.

“Hey! That’s not true.” She tried to keep her manners, but her mind went back to when they were teenagers and her grandma discovered the two of them sneaking into the kitchen to get a slice of the pie she had baked and Tommy blamed it all on Y/N, the worst part is that her grandma believed him and scolded her granddaughter when it had been Tommy’s idea in the first place.

“Where are they, ey?” Tommy asked impatiently a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“I’m telling you now, we got lost,” announced Arthur. “You really need to do a map, Thomas.”

“Right, boys you’re all here.” Tommy started in a warning tone.

The blinders gathered around him in a circle.

“Tonight it’s a fucking very important day, we’re celebrating the Arrow House grand opening.”

“Yeah, and you said there’d be no bloody uniforms.” Interrupted John.

Tommy shot him a death stare. “Nevertheless… nevertheless, John… despite the bad blood, I’ll have none of it on my carpet.”

They were part of the guest list.

He made a pause and looked around to his men. “Now, for Y/N’s sake, nothing will go wrong. She has worked so fucking hard for everything you see tonight and the Shelby Institute. And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything…”

“Tom?” Once more, John interrupted his brother.

“What?”

“What about snow?” Asked Isiah.

John replied something that Tommy couldn’t understand, but he felt his blood start boiling by their silly attitude.

“No, no, no.” He stood in front of the young blinder. “No cocaine.” Then pointing at his face, he repeated; “no cocaine. No sports.” He then moved to point at John. “No telling fortunes. No racing.” Walking back towards Finn, he continued. “No fucking sucking petrol of their fucking cars.”

He hated to admit it out loud, but he was nervous to. He wanted to fit in, he needed to blend in among the richest and more powerful people, to be one of them. To prove everybody that he had been able to claim a stair that was only reserved for those who were born in a crib made of gold.

Meanwhile, upstairs Y/N attended several guests, listening to the stories they were sharing about how much it would mean to them to donate and give back to the community. Some of them, Y/N learned were important politicians who wanted to show a good image to help them gain voters, others members of the aristocracy just wanted to show their wealthy off. Whatever reason they had, Y/N was excited to see some of the cheques they were writing right there for the institution, additional to a monthly donation they promised.

Finding Tommy among the guests, Y/N approached him to ask him if she could save the cheques in his office.

“Can we see this later?” He relief not even sending a glance in her direction, his eyes were fixed like daggers in someone.

As he moved around like a gazelle, about to chase his pry, Y/N noticed a group of women eating him with their eyes, looking him up and down, seizing his frame, biting their lips, probably wondering how would it feel to be with him….

Y/N felt like she was out of place, she shook her head and decided to ask Ada instead where she should keep the documents. She then excused herself for a moment, feeling like the happy bubble had been popped given Tommy’s cold attitude. He was never like this, he had never left her talking alone before, but he had been a bit off the last couple of days.

For some unknown reason.

Perhaps she had been creating a fantasy in her mind, yes he was a good man, but he also had an explosive temper when he wanted to, he snapped at people at the slightest provocation. Why would he treat her differently? Just because a she was pregnant?

A knock on the door disturbed the peace she just found, and without waiting to be asked to come inside, Tommy called her name.

“Y/N you’re needed downstairs.” Tommy informed her, but he knew her too damn well. When Ada told him that Y/N was taking a minute on her own, he knew she wasn’t comfortable about something.

“What happened?” He asked patiently. She shook her head, not wanting to make a scene. “Hey, hey.. come here.”

It was everything, her pregnancy, her nerves, the bloody hormones, mood swings, worry to make everything perfect… him.

“I hope you don’t take personally what happened earlier, I was looking for someone that wasn’t invited.” Tommy explained.

Y/N looked at him tentatively. She walked into the en-suite bathroom to wet a cloth and press it into the back of her neck, careful enough to not get a stain in the dress, he followed her steps and took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. The familiarity and comfort between them was too personal.

“Is this why you’ve been acting distant the last couple of days?”

With a sigh, he nodded. “Yes, I act like this when I’m scared.”

Y/N turned around pondering into his words, giving him time and space to speak on his own terms.

“I need to make sure you’re away from this business. I don’t want you to get involved at all. Do you understand?”

“Tommy what’s happening?” It all made sense to her now, the secret phone calls, the late night drives, his mood.

“The less you know, the better.” He cleared his throat. “Promise me you won’t make something stupid.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, he was the one always making the bad decisions she wanted to say instead.

“You won’t get involved.” He was firm about his statement.

“Only if you promise to be safe.” Y/N retorted.

“I’ll try my best.” A soft smile played on his lips.

She mirrored the smile and followed him outside, to join their guest one more time.

“Mr. Shelby! This is a wonderful party.” Mrs. Lewis praised, she was the wife of a former major, a bit extravagant, she loved to show off. “And a beautiful house.”

“I appreciate your words. But all the credit goes to Y/N.”

“So the old wives tale is real huh? That babies come with a bunch of blessings.” She squinted her eyes happily at Y/N’s baby bump, then looked back at Tommy. “Congratulations! I wish this baby nothing but the best.”

Y/N opened her mouth to correct her, and clarify that Tommy wasn’t the father. But Tommy cut her out.

“Thanks, hopefully you’ll be able to help us with the fundraising.”

“I’ll tell family and friends, you can count on that Mr. Shelby.”

As the woman disappeared, Y/N turned her face around to look at him.

“Let people talk, they’re going to do it anyways.” He stated, then as a waiter passed by, he took a glass of whiskey from the tray. “Rule number two; never reveal the truth when they can barely deal with a half truth.”

“What’s number one?”

“Oh, I’d tell you… but then I’d have to kill you and I’d be kind of sad you know?” He winked at her and elegantly strode towards where the music band was playing to grab the microphone.

“Good evening everyone, thank you for joining us tonight. As some of you may know, the Shelby Foundation Institute will open doors in a couple of weeks, we’re sure with this project we’ll be able to help many many children in need, grant them the education their parents can’t afford and a safe environment to learn and develop the abilities that’ll will help them in a near future.” A round of applauses filled the room and Tommy thanked the guest with a small nod. “Your contribution is highly appreciated, it will allow us to complement and provide everything that’s needed. I can assure you, your money will be well spent and we’re more than open to welcome you any time at the Institution.” His eyes started moving across the room. “Last but not least, I’d like to thank to the responsible of this project, the one who since day one showed a genuine interest and despite the doors that were closed in her face, she never backed down until this was a reality. Y/N thank you for everything you’ve done.” Raising his glass in her direction, he recognized her effort and compromise.

Blushing from getting all the attention towards her momentarily, she started biting her lip.

When Tommy started walking, people over to the side, making something similar to a human wall and leaving a space free for him to walk until he reached Y/N.

“Dance with me?”

The gesture took her by surprise, but soon Tommy’s arm wrapped around her waist and he started swaying to the beat of the music.

“Everything is perfect, thank you for taking care of every little thing.” He admitted with a very rare smile.

Carefully to not make Y/N dizzy, Tommy spun her around, following the music beats.

“Thank you for taking us in.” Y/N replied as a wide smile spread on her lips.

Feeling like nothing she could say or do was enough to thank Tommy. She’d be in debt with him for the rest of her life.

“You’ve nothing to-” he started to say but she cut him off.

“I do, every single time I blink, I feel so grateful to have you in my life.”

Tommy gave her hand a squeeze. “If things were different… wouldn’t you do the same?”

“Yes.” She admitted in a heartbeat.

“Then this better be the last time you thank me.” He raised an eyebrow as a warning, but his eyes remained giving her a gentle look. “I know you’d do the same thing for me.”

One more careful spin and the piece was done. A round of applause filled the room and the background noises brought them back to reality.

“I’ve to go, stay here, stay safe.” Tommy stated. “You know what to do in case something bad happens.”

He had already showed her where to hide in case anyone broke into Arrow House. It wasn’t his favorite outcome, but he had assured her it was for the best of she was prepared. Luckily he hadn’t show her how to use a weapon, but she knew the day might be closer than she thought.

“Tommy…” her heart started hammering her ribcage, she could feel it in her ears too. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

The look of worry he found in her eyes made him fight the lump in his throat. If something happened to him, what would she do? Who would protect her? Who’d look after her and the baby?

“Will do. This is the last ilegal business, you know I want to make it right.”

Clearing his throat, he looked around finding Arthur giving him a nod, they were ready to go.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He assured her once more.

As a different music started to play, Y/N went on to search for her grandmother.

Meanwhile, downstairs Lizzie was crying and smocking in such a bad shape after having a word with Michael about Angel, she started shouting when she heard what they did to his restaurant, she was fuming.

“Miss Stark can I help you?” Mary asked, smoothing her apron.

“Do you’ve a gun? So I can shoot someone?” Lizzie wiped her nose.

“No ma’am.” Mary took a step closer. “May I ask what happened?”

“The Shelbys blew my boyfriend’s restaurant so he couldn’t come to the party.” She tried to smooth the black mascara under her eyes.

And she started to whine and bent into the maid all she knew about the stupid rivalry between the Shelby’s and the Changretta’s.

Mary ignored Lizzie’s past, she only knew she was her master’s secretary, so she felt naturally bad for the green-eyed woman.

“I don’t get it, Thomas gets to have the little happy family with Y/N and also dictate who am I able to be involved with.”

“But they aren’t a family, the baby isn’t Mr. Shelby’s.” Mary dropped an unexpected bomb.

Lizzie stared at her in disbelief, her jaw dropping.

“Are you sure?”

“The motives of why he keeps her under his protection are unknown to me, but he isn’t the father of that baby.” The housekeeper assured her.

Lizzie nodded automatically, processing the news and thinking how this piece of information changed a lot of things.

“So Y/N is a little slut after all.” She mumbled to herself, planning in her mind a couple of ideas that would tear down that facade of integrity and good morals Y/N carried around like a crown. A woman’s reputation meant much more than anything.

And of course, it didn’t match the wealthy people standards.

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TYSM for reading! Remember your feedback feeds a writer’s soul 🥰✨

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endeline · 2 days

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We'll Be Alright

Paring: Paige Bueckers x Reader Warnings: Angst with no comfort, closeted Paige, breakups, edited and written at 3 a.m. Words: 1,403 A/n: This is my first fic so feel free to critique the hell out of it! (The woman is making me write, send help.) Summary: "I just can’t be seen with you for a while… I can’t be with you for a while," she whispered, her voice heavy with emotion. I watched as her face crumpled under the weight of her confession. She turned away, avoiding my gaze, and in that moment, I felt my world tilt on its axis.

‘I’ve heard her wrong,’ that’s my first reaction, the only rational explanation. ‘I had to have heard her wrong.’ And I almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it, because there’s no way this is happening; it’s not possible. Out of everything I’ve learned in this life, only one thing remains steadfast: Paige won’t leave me, not like this. We've been each other's anchors for too long, willingly entwined each other into every facet of our lives—school, family, friends, work; everything leads back to Paige. My life isn’t mine anymore, it’s ours. You can’t just walk away from that; ‘she won’t walk away from that.’

She holds all of me within her grasp. I've given her everything, laid my heart bare at her feet and begged her to take it. I’m not sure I can even remember how to function without her anymore, and I really don’t want to have to re-learn.

At this, I have to take a breath - ‘she isn’t leaving you’—unclenching my fists, the pain of my nails digging into my palms fades into the background and I try to slow my pounding heart.

‘She isn’t doing this,’ ‘you heard her wrong, just ask her to repeat herself, she isn’t doing this’—I repeat like a mantra. I feel myself begin to open my mouth, but in my panic, I seem to have forgotten what to do next, how to speak, what to say.

I don’t have to though; as I watch her bury her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs, I know I've heard her correctly.

Time slows to a stop as I stare at her, the very fabric of our shared existence unraveling before my eyes. She’s trembling, her form completely hunched over, elbows resting heavily on her knees. I strain to hear the faintest sound of her sobs, unsure if it's her or my own heartbeat drowning out the world around me. Everything goes numb, or at least I think I’m going numb; I might be dying. 'I think I’m dying.’

One week earlier:

KK has perched her phone precariously above her stove, and she’s behind me. Her latest brainchild? A cooking show live, which is apparently just me awkwardly fumbling through a recipe in front of thousands of people, while KK assumes the role of my enthusiastic (if somewhat reckless) sous chef. She’s so busy scaring me half to death with her questionable knife skills and insistence upon dancing around the kitchen, requiring me to guard her away from the open flame and from knocking over everything on her chopping board (again), that we both miss Paige getting home.

I’m reaching to taste, and KK is preemptively handing me the salt as a familiar hand snakes it’s way around my waist. Paige leans over me to take my spoon in her mouth. "Tastes good, babe," she murmurs. I’m frozen under her touch, staring at our reflection on the livestream when KK bursts out in fake laughter. "Damn, all you gotta do to get Paige is know how to cook.” I laugh too, now catching on to KK’s cover story, turning to Paige. "For real, Bueckers, if you wanted some all you had to do was ask. Don’t waste your rizz on me," I joke, removing her hands from my waist. Her brow is furrowed, and a confused look passes over her face briefly until she looks up and sees the livestream, which is now blowing up. She steps away from me quickly and forces out a laugh before she slips out of frame and disappears from view. KK wraps the live up soon after this, and I rush after Paige, but the damage is done.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs, wrenching me back into this harsh reality. “P?” I manage to choke out as I reach my arms out for her. I’m pretty sure I can feel my heart fall out of my chest as she pulls away, her head shaking in silent anguish.

But she doesn’t leave yet. Instead, she’s kneeling by my bedside, where I’ve seen her praying so many nights before. But she’s not talking to her god now; she’s looking up at me, speaking to me, clutching my hands in hers. “I love you, I’m so sorry,” she repeats, and yet even with her declaration of love, all I can do is shake my head in mute denial. “I can’t do it,” she gasps, desperation tingeing her words. “I can’t tell everyone yet. I’m not ready, and I can’t put you through this. It’s not fair to you.” I flinch away from her now, curling up into the corner of my bed.

“I’m so sorry.”

Even as I cower away, her outstretched hand reaches for me, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Summoning what little strength remained within me, I unfurl myself from the corner of my bed and reach for her again, ‘maybe for the last time.’ I brushed away the tears that stained her cheeks, my heart aching. “What does me not being seen with you mean?" My voice tinged with a desperation I could scarcely contain. Paige finally looks up at me; her gaze met mine, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I can’t handle the rumors anymore," she cries, her words a plea for understanding. "I'm so sorry" It’s my turn to look away now, unable to bear the weight of her gaze any longer, staring into my lap. And for the first time in my life, I shake my head and lie to Paige Bueckers, gently shushing her I reach for her hand, “everything's going to be okay, we'll be alright.”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #kk arnold #womens basketball #angst #paige bueckers fic #paige buckets #wcbb #final four

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anna-scribbles · 3 months

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had a conversation last week with a 10 year old girl about the s5 finale and i can’t stop thinking about it. she said nathalie is the best because she loves adrien enough to lie to him about his father so that he stays happy. completely convinced that emilie was resurrected at the end and shocked when i suggested otherwise. i’ve been dying to know what the children think happened and it’s so interesting

#anna rambles #ml s5 #ml season 5 #ml #i personally don’t think that adrien’s gonna find out anything in future seasons #which to me feels unsatisfying #but it’s interesting that (from my sample size of one child) maybe the kids would see that as a good thing #it felt to me like the show was framing it as a good thing at least #so it would be interesting to find out how more of the (young) target audience perceived it #bc i feel like most of the adult fans i’ve seen online assume that adrien will find out or at least would find it unsatisfying if he didnt #when i asked if she thought it could’ve been amelie at the end her jaw dropped and she said ‘no because he’s always down there talking #about how he’s gonna bring his wife back! he says it all the time and that’s what he did!’#& i was like. girl yeah you’re right😭 that is also what i thought when i saw it😭#anyway I need to talk to more kids about ml. for science

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heybaetae · 1 year

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#sent my mom those bts x harry photos this morning thinking she’d find it cool #since she likes harry #but she literally just. didn’t care and it kind of hurt bc it’s such a huge deal for me #to see him and the boys in the same frame #i thought i’d get some kind of reaction and i just didn’t #so i felt kinda shitty about it #but then my younger sister came over and she came in my room to look around #and started asking me questions about bts while looking at my pc collection #and then she let me pretty much give her a two hour crash course on bts #while asking questions and letting me show her music videos while she tried to study their names/faces better #and it made me feel good bc i never have anyone around to talk to them about out loud in detail #or rave about them with or anything bc my parents don’t careeee so i suppress it all #and i literally said to her ‘i never get to talk about them’ so she just. let me #mind you my sister and i butted heads so much when we were younger bc we’re so close in age #we have very different music tastes #she will likely never stan bts and that’s FINEEE lol #but it’s nice that she respects my love for them and has even gifted me things/merch and keeps her eyes open for things #knowing how much they mean to me #she’s the only one in my family who really supports it without any weird resistance or fakeness like my parents do #even if they do sometimes try to show interest i know it’s not that genuine #anyway long post just feeling nice that my sister cared about the most important thing in my life even just for a little bit

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dirkxcaliborn · 7 months

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I'd have to say one of the cutest, novel moments in a romance manga I read recently was when one of the characters noticed the other's behavior and thought it seemed like the other character had feelings for him, but then he told himself off for making assumptions about other people's feelings lol

#coyo speaks #it just felt like something you don't see very often #especially just like... where it's not a moment of him being all cool like I know you're in love with me yada yada #but that very grounded moment of like recognizing the signs but not wanting to make assumptions #I think the only thing I'd really criticize about that manga is that I don't think the sex scene was necessary #it's not that notable ig while reading it #but if you think about it for too long it happened way too early in their relationship #for context the one who caught feelings was a cat who ~wished to be human~#but like... he's been human for like a few months at MOST #He just has a lot less understanding and reference than your average virgin #and he wasn't the one who initiated and he seemed confused the whole time #idk I just feel like a character who has ZERO frame of reference for how relationships work should've properly taken things slower #although that's framed weird bc like I said it's not him that pushed things that fast #and I think it would be different if he was the one who initiated things where like maybe he doesn't really understand it #but he wants it whatever it is #I just really think he should've been setting the pace as the one with the least experience #as it stands I don't feel like he even knew enough to know what he wants #so for someone he has such strong feelings and trust in to be like 'I'm going to show you something good'#he's not very likely to contest that... if his partner says it's good and he can't really figure out his own feelings #then obviously it must be good regardless of how he feels #thinking that hard about random single volume BL manga is never going to turn up great results tho lol

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rockleaves · 1 year

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getting crossed up jesus style by anne rice readers for saying the vampire lestat is better than interview with the vampire

#t #tvc lb tag #can’t remember which post i saw ‘crossed up jesus style’ in but it has permanently changed my vocabulary #is tvl GOOD? well. no. but i do genuinely think it’s better and more engaging.#the thing with iwtv is it IS incredibly ambitious but i don’t actually think that ambition pays off #it kind of reminds me of that saying about crime & punishment that it’s one part of crime followed by five parts of punishment #but because the crime louis is honest about punishing himself for (claudia’s death) happens so late and he glosses over/lies about/omits #any specifics of the other crimes he’s punishing himself for (his kills and his family and his relationship with lestat) it’s just like #annoying lmao. like without knowing some context of the later books i probably would have dnf’d it.#it’s good and interesting in the show because of the framing of the second interview and daniel being older and a better journalist who #notices and calls out louis’s omissions and lies #but reading the book i just felt like i was constantly waiting for a reason to care and didn’t get one until very late #like it was very much written like a short story. like you could tell it was her first novel after mostly writing short stories and she #just didn’t make as many changes as i think it would have needed when adapting iwtv from the short story to the novel.#tvl on the other hand is far less ambitious and far sillier but it does actually feel like a novel #anyway. like i said i get why iwtv was like that and why other people might like it but it did not work for me.

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bibiana112 · 1 year

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Iris looks so uncomfortable about all this and that's honestly extremely valid, Ota please stop talking

I don't wanna think of what I'd do if someone I barely vibed with spoke to me that way

#as thankful for them as I am I can barely even stand my friends being nice to me #I had this whole time when we all tried to do the ink october challenge thing and I couldn't take the compliments #they like rebound or something because the way they framed it made me think I was putting them down so I just quit #it was a sensible time too but I still don't feel very comfortable at people saying I'm good at things #and it's not low self esteem it's because I know I'm good lmao but that's not much of a conversation is it #I wish people felt more comfortable dishing out criticism even for stuff from people they like #I feel static like no one wants to trade ideas so I just can't improve cause people pretend nothing's wrong #I have a whole complex over this did it show??????#cAIta psynching time

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emeryleewho · 1 year

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I used to work for a trade book reviewer where I got paid to review people's books, and one of the rules of that review company is one that I think is just super useful to media analysis as a whole, and that is, we were told never to critique media for what it didn't do but only for what it did.

So, for instance, I couldn't say "this book didn't give its characters strong agency or goals". I instead had to say, "the characters in this book acted in ways that often felt misaligned with their characterization as if they were being pulled by the plot."

I think this is really important because a lot of "critiques" people give, if subverted to address what the book does instead of what it doesn't do, actually read pretty nonsensical. For instance, "none of the characters were unique" becomes "all of the characters read like other characters that exist in other media", which like... okay? That's not really a critique. It's just how fiction works. Or "none of the characters were likeable" becomes "all of the characters, at some point or another, did things that I found disagreeable or annoying" which is literally how every book works?

It also keeps you from holding a book to a standard it never sought to meet. "The world building in this book simply wasn't complex enough" becomes "The world building in this book was very simple", which, yes, good, that can actually be a good thing. Many books aspire to this. It's not actually a negative critique. Or "The stakes weren't very high and the climax didn't really offer any major plot twists or turns" becomes "The stakes were low and and the ending was quite predictable", which, if this is a cute romcom is exactly what I'm looking for.

Not to mention, I think this really helps to deconstruct a lot of the biases we carry into fiction. Characters not having strong agency isn't inherently bad. Characters who react to their surroundings can make a good story, so saying "the characters didn't have enough agency" is kind of weak, but when you flip it to say "the characters acted misaligned from their characterization" we can now see that the *real* problem here isn't that they lacked agency but that this lack of agency is inconsistent with the type of character that they are. a character this strong-willed *should* have more agency even if a weak-willed character might not.

So it's just a really simple way of framing the way I critique books that I think has really helped to show the difference between "this book is bad" and "this book didn't meet my personal preferences", but also, as someone talking about books, I think it helps give other people a clearer idea of what the book actually looks like so they can decide for themselves if it's worth their time.

Update: This is literally just a thought exercise to help you be more intentional with how you critique media. I'm not enforcing this as some divine rule that must be followed any time you have an opinion on fiction, and I'm definitely not saying that you have to structure every single sentence in a review to contain zero negative phrases. I'm just saying that I repurposed a rule we had at that specific reviewer to be a helpful tool to check myself when writing critiques now. If you don't want to use the tool, literally no one (especially not me) can or wants to force you to use it. As with all advice, it is a totally reasonable and normal thing to not have use for every piece of it that exists from random strangers on the internet. Use it to whatever extent it helps you or not at all.

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #am writing #books #booklr #fiction #media analysis

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screampied · 4 months

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Heyyyyy 🩷🫶🏾

Ex-husband! Choso who refuses to get remarried because he’s still in love with you. Even though you filed for divorce due to his lack of time, He still comes by the house to take care of the kids and sometimes cooks dinner. You realize that he’s not going anywhere when after every visit he fucks you like the night of your wedding. (NSFw please)?

MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE.

*ೃ༄ fem!reader, ex husband!choso, overstim, unprotected sex, whiney choso, breeding, praise, mdni. wc: 0.9k

ex-husband choso never stopped loving you, despite the two of you separating.

he couldn’t.

he’s always had a deep love for you, he couldn’t be bothered with trying to move on. he still happily wears his ring, there’s probably never a moment where he takes it off because he’s just that in love with you.

it happens every time. he ends up coming over, claiming he forgotten clothes, wants to visit the kids, anything else. yet once he has you alone with the kids being at your parents house, he shows how much he misses you.

he’s so gentle with his touch—sweet whimpers escape his lips as he creates kiss trails all over your body, savoring your sweet taste that he’s always missed.

“really missed my wife,” he’d mumble out, and his lips felt so soft, tender you started to pulse. it was incredibly embarrassing. yet you and choso both knew he knew every inch of your body. every inch that makes you whine out his name. “gorgeous body. ‘s perfect ‘n all for me.”

“c-choso,” you’d moan, bringing his head close up to your neck. he sucks on your tender collarbone, he’s buried balls deep with you being sprawled out on your back. he’s gripping your thigh, caressing it before he starts to moan against your ear.

you’re nearly losing your mind at how good your warmth swallows him, gripping tight around him, it makes him dizzy. “fuck..”

“hey hey,” he mumbles, hovering over your body, his warm breath wafts against your neck, he’s so addicted to sucking softly on your skin, nibbling it playfully to drag out and elicit the sweetest sounds from your mouth.

“don’t talk baby, jus’ want you to feel me. got me so obsessed,” he goes on to say, and he grabs onto your hand. his hands were bigger than yours, a smooth surface of his palms yet as his fingers interlock with yours, you felt the coldness of the metal. the wedding ring he still wore after all this time brush against his ring finger. “woman, y’don’t know how crazy you drive me..”

choso’s heart pounds the more he stares into your eyes. and he’s always gentle with his rhythm, but with its own sprinkle of roughness.

“can never stay a-away from you,” he moans, rutting himself against you. you’re just tightening and squeezing down on him that his jaw clenches. “baby, ‘m gonna get milked by you again. i-i feel it.”

“kiss me.” you spit out, just yearning for his touch, for more of his taste. at this point, you could care less that the two of you were split. your trembling legs locked around his slim waist as he’s pumping in and out of you.

your body cutely jerks and jolts against him, your frame he always found out to be so adorable in comparison to him.

he huffs out a breath before furrowing his eyebrows, growing more needy himself. “open your mouth then.”

you do—parting your lips, and choso leans in to kiss you, sloppily. you wrap your arms around him, his soft darkened hair tickles against your forehead, it wasn’t in its usual ponytails. he had it down because after all, he’s always had a thing for you pulling on it.

he moans in your mouth. still jackhammering his hips against yours at full throttle, your legs twitch and rub against his bare back. choso’s so high from your lips, running his tongue, tracing it against yours before you whimper once you feel him reach a hand down towards your pussy to give it a squeeze. he pulls away before whispering against your lips. “tell me you still love me, baby.”

“i-i still love you.” you whined, feeling your orgasm about to reach itself. it was approaching heavily, and your head went back against the pillow. choso’s eyes glimmer at your words, tracing a thumb against your lips before sneaking a kiss onto your mouth.

choso starts panting. “all i wanted to hear,” his muscles flex from his constant friction he creates with his sharp hips. you’re so full, his dick was purely appetizing, all you could even think of was your ex-husband spilling a thick load inside of you like he always does.

it always comes out a lot, thick stringy ropes of cum. his favorite thing to do would be to pull out and let the remains splatter all over your tummy.

“i wanna make you a mommy again so bad,” he stammers out. hiding his head inside of your neck, he’s nibbling near your collarbone once more. his right hand rests on your tummy as he’s still pumping in and out of you, his own strength making him whimper out. “miss seeing your pretty tummy so plump ‘n round. gorgeous body.”

“do it then,” you whined, brushing your heel against his back. his eyes light up, he prepared himself to say something but he just moans instead. choso’s voice, you could listen to it all day, whether he was whimpering or just conversing conversation. “gimme another baby, choso.”

“i’ll give you twins,” he whispers, his voice was undeniably shaky. peppering your nose with kisses. his hips rock back and forth in such a sensual way you find your nails dragging down his back. “but first,” he pauses, stopping mid thrust to bring out your hand, kissing it once. his voice was so gentle, he moans from how tight you squeeze around him.

choso slides off his ring—squeezing it on yours and it was a perfect fit, he leans in to kiss you before letting off a moan. “marry me, again?”

an. I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. requests open <3

#★vegasbaby.#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #choso kamo smut #choso x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fic #jjk smut #anime smut #female reader #anime x reader #smut #choso kamo x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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chuluoyi · 2 months

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✎ insatiable

- gojo satoru x reader

your boyfriend is hot and wild, and he has one problem: he always finds you too pretty to resist

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—in the form of heavy smut (gojo eating you out, p in v sex, missionary style, and hints of semi-rough sex?) and fluff, fluff, fluff—it gets exponentially soft during aftercare because i need fluff to live

note: i'm no saint, i know, and i'm blaming all this on my pms🤧 this is obviously not my best work but pls enjoy regardless🥲 based on this idea of love hotel dates

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Gojo Satoru is a man of demanding needs, and ‘holding back’ is never in his vocabulary.

Sometimes he swears you do it on purpose—the choice of your sundress, revealing your soft thighs for everyone to see; or pulling up your hair to enunciate the beauty of your neck, which reminds him of just how much he loves it to leave his love bites there.

And how you coyly look at him while doing so, it’s hard not to get hard.

You made him want to fuck you into the mattress and devour you whole—well, with you looking so inviting like that, you couldn’t really blame him for leading you to love hotel in the middle of your dates now, could you?

. . .

“Why are you so pretty, huh? All dolled up just for me...”

Your plush thighs framing each side of his head, your dress was long discarded as you lay sprawled out, legs parted wide . . . with Satoru sucking your dripping cunt hungrily and you pulling at his hair.

“Ahh... hah... mmnghh!” the way his voice was muffled between your legs, paired with how his tongue was tasting your clit had you moaning like a distressed kitten— and you felt hot all over.

And oh, couldn't you tell that you were so wet already down there?

You grimaced, focusing on the rising heat pooling in your lower belly. “Satoru... you're too—!”

“Hmm? Too what? Too good, sweet pea?” he edged you on, that devilish smirk on his face. “Of course I am. I'm the best.”

The way he lapped at your overflowing pussy was mind-blowing to say the least—casually nipping, licking, and overall, just scarfing down your sensitive flesh with such fervor.

How could someone be so incredibly sinful and heavenly at the same time?

"Aahhhh!" you yanked his locks and arched your back when he blowed air into your clit—your body spasming when you finally felt the knot in your belly burst once again, his awaiting tongue slurping you as if you were his tastiest treat.

And by now, you could barely form any thoughts, after he pulled the rag out from under you by making you cum four times.

“Do I make you feel good?” he chuckled, still pressing his face between your legs. With your head spinning and stars dancing in your vision, you could only whine.

Seeing you rendered into such hot mess—all because of him, Satoru smiled, ignoring the slight pain in his scalp as he swallowed your cum with that devious smirk before kissing your inner thigh with the very same daring mouth that was devouring your pussy before.

Beautifully and perfectly wet. You were like a ripe fruit for ready the taking now.

“Now, sweets... let me just show you what the best feels like.”

Suddenly, his length slid into you like a perfect fit, hitting you right where it should be. The sensation left you breathless, and in a flash, you let out hitched cries as he began to move within you, setting a relentless rhythm that seemed almost unforgiving.

“Satoru— too fast! Too de—ngh, hah—!”

Oh my, what a precious thing you are, writhing under him like this. “Really…? Then it means I’m doing—haah—a great job at this then.”

With each thrust, he marvelled at how tight your walls were engulfing him. Damn, if this kept up longer, even he wouldn’t last. Your pussy was a heavenly treasure.

“Fuck, you're so—hot,” Satoru panted, his fingers digging into your thighs as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He was really going to lose it soon, especially when right now, under him, you were a sight to behold. So pliant, so pretty, all his—

“I can't—!” you suddenly blurted, tears running down your scrunched-up face. “Satoru, I can't anymore—please—”

“Oh, but you can, baby girl,” he slowed down and countered in a low growl, interlacing his fingers with yours and folded your knees, effectively pinning you down to the bed. He had never made you hit five orgasms in one session, but now he was about to set a personal best.

His eyes captivated you, with how glittery they were. “One more time. My girl can do it.”

The underlying command in his tone triggered you, turning you on. And then he plowed into you— and then you didn't know anymore as the one thing you could utter was his name, in broken wails. “Satoru! argh—aaaah! Satoruuuu!”

His name spilling nastily from your lips, and—holy fuck, how your folds were still clenching around his cock so deliciously tight was just so—!!

He grunted, brushing his lips on yours in a messy kiss as his other hand squeezed your plump breast, making you yelp. “Can't blame me for this. Will fuck you till you can’t walk. You're mine now.”

He thrusted faster and harder, targeting your cervix repeatedly like a predator in heat. And your scream was the loudest ever yet when you cummed for the fifth time—

“Ah… ah—ahhhh!” your body shuddered, a wave of blinding pleasure crashed upon you so hard your vision dimmed, lost in the sensation of how his hips snapping and rolling into you sharply without giving you a chance to recover.

And by God, you are amazing, because in the next minute, Satoru lost all his shits and groaned loudly—his hot cum spurting in successive bursts and filling you up oh so nicely . . . even overflowing as it dripped out of your spent folds and down to the pristine sheets.

Satoru slowly sat up on the bed. The air was still thick with the aftermath of the best sex he had for the first time in a while.

It took him a few moments to realize that you passed out as you were lying face down on the pillow, motionless. A frown creased his forehead as he pulled you closer to him, tenderly brushing your hair aside.

“Sweetheart, hey? You okay?” he cautiously whispered. “Hey...”

His heart suddenly thudded within his ribcage when you failed to respond. The mere thought of you being anything less than okay was enough to send him spiraling.

You cracked your eyes open at his prodding, and let out a whimper when you felt a sudden cramp seizing your lower abdomen. In reflex, you clutched at the source of discomfort and curled upon yourself.

Satoru got a hold of you quickly, alarmed, trying to soothe you. “We're getting a bath, yeah? Hold on.”

Gone was the rabid man who senselessly fucked you over, replaced by the sweet boyfriend who was worried sick over your state.

He rushed to the bathroom to prepare a warm bath. However, noticing your slow, pained attempt to stand, he hurried back, lifting you effortlessly with one arm under your knees.

“Shh,” he quieted your whine gently, planting a swift kiss on your forehead. “You’re sore. Don't walk—let me carry you.”

And not only did he carry you, Satoru also tenderly bathed you, keeping you close to his chest. He sat behind you in the bathtub, comforting you with gentle caresses when you sniffled and pressing soft kisses on your wet shoulders, one arm securely around your waist.

After the bath, he quickly dried you off and wrapped you in the hotel's plush bathrobe. With utmost care, he lifted you again in a princess-carry and tucked you into the bed you both shared for the night.

“How are you feeling now, hmm?” he asked you softly, drawing you to his embrace again. “Better?”

Even refreshed from the bath, your mind was still partially muddled in the afterglow from the earlier lovemaking. You sought solace in his comforting presence. “Mm-hmm...”

“I was too rough on you, wasn’t I?“

He really made good on that promise—you wouldn’t be able to walk now as you felt too much like a jelly. You simply let out a soft sigh and gently bumped your forehead against his chest in a resignation, which brought a smile to his face.

“Sorry...” he murmured, his hand finding your hip to start a gentle massage. Unbeknownst to your half-sleepy state, he genuinely meant his apology. “In my defense, you are just unbelievably ravishing though...”

“You’re insatiable,” you retorted through a haze, your voice scratchy as you poked him in the chest with little force.

“Heh, for you? Most definitely.”

That got you to smile. His words, warm and fond, wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, affirming his deep, unwavering affection and desire for you alone.

The soothing motions of his hip massage lulled you back to sleep, your eyes fluttering shut with a sense of tranquility. And seeing you like this, something inside Gojo Satoru pulsed with tenderness.

“So pretty,” he blurted in pure adoration, his honored eyes fixed firmly on your sleeping form, blinking in wonder. “Wasted on someone like me…”

Suddenly, he found that he wanted to be soft to you more than ever. Next time, he would take it nice and slow. He would mold himself into your needs and desires— that was his vow to himself.

And it dawned to him, how he didn't want this love hotels anymore. Instead, he wants forever, with you—

But until then... he would relish this moment to the fullest, indulging himself in your presence, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat—secure with the knowledge that he was yours, at least until forever falls apart.

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sukunas-wife · 4 months

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Waking up pressed into Sukuna’s large frame on a cold morning, the thick heavy embroidered blankets trapping all the heat. Eyes heavy with sleep as you took a deep breath through your nose arching your back and stretching your free arm.

Turning over and looking at Sukuna who was already staring down at you. Bleary vision as you blinked away the faint blur, “Good morning.”

Sukuna’s smile was faint, lidded eyes looked over your body through the duvet, “morning.” On of his arms held you against him and the other pulled your head closer as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “There’s a surprise.” The arms on his right side moved you leaned up trying to peek over his massive chest, before you smiled laughing quietly. He held up the blanket with one arm the other holding your son Yuji curled up into his side, almost in the pit of his arm. You reached over fingers lightly tracing Yuji’s cheek, your sweet boy who resembled his father so heavily but wore his heart on his sleeve so openly.

“He’s been waiting for the first snow, he’s been so excited now that it’s getting colder, but he shouldn’t be running around in this hard floor with no shoes! Or socks at least, look at his little feet, he could get sick.” You scolded your son in his sleep before he started to stretch “Look what you did, you woke my boy.” Sukuna chided with a mischievous laugh.

“Sno?” His first words as he rubbed his eyes with his tiny fists yawning. You sat back in your spot as Sukuna evaded his question holding him up in the air with one set of arms using the other to tickle him as he spoke “Waking up and the first thing you ask is if there’s snow, need to show my little brat some manners, how about a good morning dad or how did you sleep mom, hm?” Yuji was laughing holding onto his dads forearms kicking his feet before Sukuna sat up and Yuji sat in his lap resting his chin on his dad’s chest still smiling “morning daddy,” he turned to you trying to climb off his dad “gmornin mommy.”

You cooed at him dragging him into a tight hug and kissing his head, “Good morning baby how did you sleep?” He smiled “Good! It was cold so so i came running and ume saw me and i started to run faster like daddy! I made it an ume didn’t catch me but i couldn’t make it into the bed …” he looked down at his little chubb legs, “Is to high so i used teh chair!” He perked up and pointed at a chair at the foot of the bed, you laughed and squeezed him again, “Your so smart and cute.” He laughed when your squished him peppering his face with kisses.

“Like daddy!” Pointed at your husband causing him to let out a loud laugh “Sorry brat but if you wanna be like ME you have a lot of work to do.” Resting your cheek on Yuji’s head you looked at your husband who had a set of arms folded behind his head the other set crossed against his chests, you moved your cheek watching Yuji look at his hands before feeling him shake, he looked up at you with a look of look of betrayal and teary eyes, his cheek’s reddening, “i… i only have two… two hands!” Bringing a hand to your mouth you looked away not wanting to laugh at in your son’s face, looking out the window you saw your escape, “Yuji! Honey look it’s snowing!”

He tried to rush over to the window, tripping off the bed, the patter of his feet making you shake your head. You heard Sukuna sigh before you felt a hand of his rest on your waist pulling you back to him. “You do realize he’ll want to-CAN WE GO OUTSIDE!” The scream of your son made you side eye Sukuna with a smile and he looked away rolling his eyes.

“Uraume!” A second later Uraume entered the room bowed with closed eyes, “Yes Lord Sukuna?” Sukuna pushed the duvet back “bring my robes let the maids in and then get my brat ready to go outside.” Yuji cheered and rushed to Uraume ready to get dressed. Uraume and the maids made quick work of getting you and Yuji ready to head out into the snow that was quickly piling up. Sukuna only closed his robes for a change, but it was evident he was uncomfortable from the stretch of the fabric. The three of you heading out into the snow your ladies in waiting and Uraume standing just a bit off. You watched as Yuji ran around in the snow the crunching of his foot steps as he ran throwing fallen snow into the air, Sukuna laughing loudly when Yuji tripped and disappeared into the snow, only stopping and shocked when you rushed over to Yuji and falling waist deep into the same hole. He sighed walking over to pull you both out, his arm movement restricted by his closed robes before he tore the robes entirely just to pull both of you out.

“That’s better.” Was all he said as he rolled his shoulders, chest and back exposed to the cold, and soon enough you were fighting Yuji to keep his clothes on when you had turned to him watching him try to fold his robes down the way his father had. Sukuna scoffed with a smirk watching as his son ran away from you in the snow chest bare for all to see. Your lungs aching from the cold air, Yuji was smiling big his laughs blowing out puffs of fog until he was snatched up by Sukuna who fixed his robes, “enough,” his voice was stern as Yuji sat on his forearm, “when your mother tell you to stop and come here you listen understood.”

Yuji nodded looking up at Sukuna, in his eyes his dad was the best thing in the world, to him Sukuna could say he hung every star in the sky and created the moon and sun and Yuji would awe and hold onto every word he said believing it was the absolute truth. You smiled at your husband, leaning against his arms once you were close enough, the heat of his body radiating and you realized he didn’t have a single snow flake on him.

🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤

“Yuujiii” you rubbed your sons back, he was curled up against your chest, your back against Sukuna’s chest. “Mm” he shook his head trying to bury his face in your chest and smiled down him. “Yuji, it’s Christmas don’t you wanna get up and open your gifts?” “m cold” he was quick to fall asleep as you huffed flipping over your body pulling Yuji with you

You face Sukuna with your little bundle of life between both of you, in his half awake state he pulled you closer squishing Yuji between his and your own chest. He laid on his left side on arm tucked under his head the other pulling both you and Yuji close, his right arm placed on your waist and the other pulling the duvet up to cover you all. The faint crackling wood could be heard from the smoldering fire as it slowly faded, the shadow of snow falling filled the room from the window, the soft breaths of your son squished between you and your husband. Your left hand came up to hold Ryomen’s face, his eyes opened slightly, the smile on your face as you did your best to stretch up and kiss him, he leaned down to meet your kiss.

“I love you,” was all you whispered against his lips, feeling the heat on his cheeks as he squeezed your soft side “I’ll do everything to protect you and Yuji until my last breath.” Was his affectionate response.

Your soft smile in the faint light of the rising sun, soft breaths when you whispered “Merry Christmas Ryomen.” He let out a breathy laugh amused, “mm, Merry Christmas.”

#sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen #jjk anime #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna thirst #jujutsu kaisen #daddy sukuna #yuji itadori #son Yuji #jjk au #jjk asks #ryomen sukuna #yuji and mom reader #Sukuna x wife reader #soft sukuna #Sukuna x reader fluff

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keisobe · 10 months

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── ౨ৎ ‧˚ 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 (𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧)

・⸝⸝ some hobie brown headcanons where you’re the complete opposite of him + not completely proofread

notes. this was inspired by the anon who requested for “polar opposites” (i’m still working on that request TT). i’m a sucker for couples with different aesthetics because it reminds me of hachi and nana hshshddh ♡

you guys share an apartment together, and the contrast between your guy’s decor can be laughable. hobie has crumbled newspaper cutouts and band posters sprawled all over his walls— graffiti to roughen it up even more. while you had a dainty wallpaper with printed flowers, topped with assortments of neatly lined photos of you and hobie taken during your dates.

that’s why the living room in your apartment is completely bare. except for some framed photos of more cute memories and the dried flowers that hobie (stole) bought you on your first date. mostly, the trinkets you both own are scattered around the apartment.

hobie would be pouring cereal into a pink, bunny ceramic bowl. while you drink raspberry tea in a ridged mauve mug with the words ‘fuck capitalism’ written in hobie’s scratchy handwriting. and yes, you did take hobie to a pottery class as a cool date idea (he thought it was a cute idea too).

hobie always wears a copious amount of studded leather belts but also, your plush keychain(s) securely clipped onto his belt loops. hobie loves to show them off whenever he’s out with his bandmates— “ain’t it a lil’ cute? ‘s even got a lil’ blush on ‘s cheeks.” and that doesn’t limit him during his nightly patrols, he would get a few insults about having a ‘stupid toy’ on his belt, to which he would punch the daylights out of them and trap them in a thick layer of web.

you also proudly accessorize your bags with hobie’s handmade keychains. your favorite was a little replica of his guitar and a pink star that “represents you”. but because they are personally made, he would leave song lyrics and flirty comments written in the back of each keychain— marking the date when he gifted it to you.

going shopping with hobie was also lots of fun. there was a nearby boutique that you always shop at; selling exclusively skirts and dresses adorned with frills and bows, and hair accessories that are covered in pearls and ribbon (he honestly sticks out like a sore thumb but he couldn’t care less). hobie helps you pick out stuff, taking clothes off the rack and asking you to try it on. he compliments you every time you show off, giving you a little twirl and whispering a suggestive comment that makes you slap his chest. if you decide that you weren’t particularly fond of the outfit, hobie would go out of his way to put away said clothes back into its rack whilst having a good chat with the shop owners (they love him to bits).

one time, you decided it would be fun to wear some of his stuff. putting on a studded leather choker he left on his bedside table, you walked out with your chin held high and a grin so big. immediately, hobie felt like he combusted five times and went over to graze a hand over your leathered neck— “you’re an absolute looka’ babe.”

whenever you guys are out, he would always keep an eye out for your skirt. not in a weird way, but to make sure it doesn’t show private bits that would entertain creeps that would pass by. that’s why he would subconsciously linger his hand on your hips and he would always let you sit in the subway train, amusingly eyeing down at you drawing whilst he holds onto the upper railing— guarding you with his solid frame.

you’re a real sucker for british dating shows. it wasn’t like you believed in them, but found them heavily entertaining. hobie had always been fond of the things you like, even though they completely contrasted his personal aesthetic and interest. but he cannot, for the life of him, agree with dating shows. as you snuggled into him and share a fluffy blanket— watching the latest season of said dating show, he would cackle as he gives snarky comments at every moment and heavily criticize the whole concept of “making yourself look li’ a knob on the telly” (you sent him to his room afterwards, he apologized the morning after).

#✩.*˚ — ina’s works🎂#ੈ♡˳ — (spiderverse) 📁#ੈ♡˳ — (atsv) 📁#— ౨ৎ ࣪ . ⊹ : hcs #ੈ♡˳ — (hobie brown) 🎞️#hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown headcanons #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #atsv headcanons #atsv x reader #spiderpunk headcanons #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk x y/n #spiderpunk x you

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marvelandponder · 1 year

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one amazing thing about the Owl House finale is that it finally contextualized for me one of the central metaphors of the show. Spoilers for the series finale Watching and Dreaming ahead.

we good? no one spoiling themselves? beauty

for a long time now, I thought we had a pretty standard coming-of-age metaphor dichotomized by the show's central antagonists. you've got your protestant witch hunter Belos who introduces a maturity and ugliness to Luz's narrative; he clearly represents a particular, restricting form of adulthood, and just when Belos becomes his most threatening, boom, enter the Collector, Luz's dangerously naïve inner child to ruin all her development on the Boiling Isles. Seems simple enough

what I didn't anticipate was just how specific and personal their roles in the story actually are to Luz once you have the full context from the series finale

look again

this story - this whole series - is about the grief that a neurodivergent kid experienced at a young age, introducing the cruelty of loss and adulthood before she was ready to handle it. and, how to reclaim a more whole understanding of herself as she rebuilds her life with people who get her

Belos is designed to infect the titan carcass like a disease. a cancer. it's super goddamn significant that the titan is King's dad (King, who became Luz's younger brother). they set up Belos not just to be another fascist kids' cartoon villain (although yeah, he do be doing some of that), but to specifically become a force that oppressed the weirdness from the one place that understood Luz. the Iles. the dad. And by the end of the story, Belos's goopy body-horror isn't just for show, he's just like the cancer or other terminal disease that took Luz's dad from her

he's the thing Luz hasn't processed in season 1 that comes in at the end like a warning. he's the threat that forces Luz to grapple with her own humanity, feeling somehow (often completely unjustifiably) harmful to those around her, through the grief she doesn't want to be a burden or the weirdness (neurodivergence) others don't understand. he's the force that says there is something wrong with you, Luz, give in to your grief, this is what you can't face. this is the lie you've been telling to those closest to you: that you're okay

then you have the Collector. (notable that he's a collector, and we see Luz's mom and dad had quite the collection of nerdy memorabilia)

the Collector is the child too young to understand death. Too young to understand consequences, or why their playmates don't feel like playing anymore with someone so weird and maybe a bit too involved in their own world. The Collector is Luz's inner child, that kid we see right before the "worst week ever" — the one who didn't and couldn't understand what was about to happen even as it was going down. unapologetically weird, a bit destructive and short-sighted, but wholly colourful, wholly themselves. that's why the Collector wants to live out Luz's adventures, but without all the depth. just the fun escapist fantasy

but don't think I forgot the internal conflict! :D

because Camila's role also gets an added depth too: Camila was framed at the outset of the series as someone who loved Luz, but wanted her to fit inside a box that she just didn't. later, Luz completely misconstrued her mom's breakdown when she learned that Luz chose to run away. as many people have pointed out by now, Luz misremembers the actual dialogue that Camila says: Camila only wanted her daughter safe, not to lose her. Luz meanwhile felt like she had to choose to destroy this part of herself, or give up her connection with her mom altogether

but we know now Camila actually deeply relates to Luz. she may not understand Luz's fascination with horrific things like on the boiling isles (very akin to a kid getting more grim hobbies in the wake of a death, like Luz's taxidermy), but she loves Luz for who she is. all of her. she never wanted Luz to change

Luz was the one framing the central conflict of the show as go back to her mom or stay in the boiling isles. Luz was the one who felt like she had to punish herself by rejecting the one place where she felt like herself. once Camila realizes what's been going on, and how deeply connected it is to the loss of Luz's dad, she knows Luz is trying to make a "very bad choice for herself." And she won't let that happen (what a great mom!!)

But Luz does have one real choice ahead of her

because of the inner child who once again has to confront death (this time, Luz's own), Luz is able to connect with a father figure, the titan, the one place she feels understood. in the form of a power-up that makes her into a fantasy witch straight out of the Good Witch Azura, the one place she got joy after that huge loss, the titan gives her the strength to face the cancer—a force draining everything good in her life from her and making her question she deserves it in the first place—but only if she can choose herself

and that means choosing happiness, choosing found family, choosing love and friendship and self-discovery in the place she feels most at home! every bond she's forged, everything she's worked for, it all comes down to choosing to face grief and move on in life with weirdos who stick together.

hoot hoot, that's some good metaphor

#the owl house #toh spoilers #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #king clawthorne #the collector #emperor belos #camila noceda #i may update the post with images at some point but I figured that's more likely to unintentionally spoil others #watching and dreaming

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fictionalmenmakemecry · 3 months

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Pretty Little Outfit

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x reader(fem!)

Summary: With a new job in your grasp, you decide it's time for some new work outfits. Carmy realizes that he can't get over a new skirt that you bought, only to find out you've unlocked a new kink of his.

Warnings: SMUT (fem oral), cursing, masturbation, hair pulling.

A/N: WOOOOO seeing him in the CK ad only feeds the hunger I have for him. Lord have mercy.. This man has too much of a grip on me. Let's say Carmy isn't the greatest at oral first but with a lot of practice (that I'm not against) he would have me in a chokehold. Just one night. That's all I'm asking.

Anyway.. my rant is done!

Enjoy :)

"I look ridiculous" you huffed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You self-consciously pulled at the pencil skirt that was clinging your curves.

You just got a new job and it was in the contract that formal office wear was expected. When you went into the office for the interview, you noticed no one was wearing jeans and sweaters. It was all slacks, skirts and blazers.

You had spent the day frantically running store to store trying to make a new closet for the job that you gladly accepted the previous day.

You started Monday, and you were petrified. You had experience, but you never were in such a high-end environment which you felt also had very high expectations of their employees.

You cursed to yourself as you adjusted the new bra you also bought. It was uncomfortable and tight as hell.

"Fuck" You cursed, feeling panic set in.

You turned around analyzing your clothes to realise that from the back of your white shirt, you could see your bra straps clearly. The one decent shirt you felt somewhat comfortable and it was see through.

You groaned, bringing your hands to your face. Usually, you didn't give a shit but you had a feeling HR wouldn't feel the same.

You took a deep breath in and stood up straight, looking back into the mirror.

"Good morning," you smiled brightly, pretending to lean into a handshake towards the mirror. You were trying to imagine yourself in these clothes in an unknown environment. The more you looked at yourself, the more you started to overthink.

His eyes were on you through the gap on the ajar door. His stare traveled the length of your body and paused at your hips, shifting to your ass. He bit his lip, trying to hold back any audible moan he felt climb up through his throat.

Carmy rarely ever saw you in skirts. He didn't think he had a thing for them but when he unexpectedly came home to see you in the bedroom trying on some clothes he couldn't take his eyes away.

You didn't know he was home. He felt bad spying on you, but he couldn't pull himself away.

Carmy leaned against the door frame, being careful not to make the wood creak. He watched as you bend over to grab something from the clothes bag. His eyes fell on your cleave, which showed through the reflection of the mirror. Your soft plump breasts pressing against the shirt.

He swallowed, feeling his crotch getting tighter and tighter. The material straining against his growing dick.

The thoughts that spun in his head, with your legs up on his shoulder, the skirt riding up as he drilled into you. His eyes darkened, imagining you all roughed up in your office wear. Make up smudged, skirt rolled up, shirt wrinkled. Your pretty little outfit completely fucked in. Tainted. Corrupted.

He shook his head softly, trying to clear his mind. He needed to pull himself together before he completely unraveled at the door.

You heard a gentle knock on the door. You saw Carmy enter in while looking at the mirror.

"Hi babe" you greeted, giving a soft smile.

You turned around to see his eyes locked on your body. He stood there in a white t-shirt and jeans with his arms above his head, and his mouth scrunched up like he was trying to hold himself back.

"What ya think?" You did a spin, feeling his stare.

The more he stared, the shyier you got.

"Uh y-you look unbelievable," He stuttered, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know.. I think the skirt is too tight. I can barely walk in it"

You turned back around, showing him the back of it. To which he brought his hand to his face, trying to hide the fact he was forcefully biting his lip. Your eyes flickered to him, and in that moment, you saw the haze in his eyes.

A small smirk crept up on your face.

Your hands ran over your thighs, flattening out any wrinkles in the skirt and seeing your hands travel, wanted Carmy's hands to be there even more.

You continued to look in the mirror briefly, bringing your flirtatious stare back to him through the mirror.

"What do you think about my hair up?" You gather the ends of your hair loosely, holding it there with one hand while looking at him teasingly.

He licked his dry lips and gazed at your neck. He took a couple of steps forward, getting closer behind you. You knew you had him.

You would do it every time you were on top. As you would grind on him, you would bring your hair up the same way. It would only make he want to flip you over and get to that one weak spot you had. The one angle he knew made your shake in complete pleasure. He would feel you milk him, and he would lose it.

With that thought vivid in his head, he leans down and kisses your exposed neck gently. You felt his soft lips pressed against your hot skin.

He placed his hands on your hips and moved them down your sides while you both watched him make his way to your ass.

You let out a light gasp, feeling his grip get tighter.

"Jesus- feel what you're doing to me" He whispered in your ear. You felt goosebumps raise on the back of your neck.

He leaned in closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You felt his stiffened dick pressed against your ass. You could feel everything in this tight skirt. His stare was dripping with lust, just want your body rubbing up against his.

"Is this a new bra?" He asked flirtatiously

His hands bring your focus up to your chest, where you watch him lightly trace his finger on top of your cup.

"Mmm hmmm" you hummed, feeling like putty in his grasp.

"Can I get a better look?" He whispered, side eyeing you in the mirror.

You nodded, angling your head to the side as he kissed you a few more times down the neck. He started to unbuttoned one button after another, starting from the bottom, making his way up. With the last button popping open, the shirt gave a peek to your new bra you were wearing. The tip of his fingers gently pulled the shirt away from you, giving him full view from the mirrors reflection.

A small croak escaped his throat, and you heard him swallow, trying to hide it.

He brought his hand up to your new bra and massaged your breast while he pulled his stare up to your eyes. He watched as yours glazed over. He continued to watch you crumble in front of him. He felt you push your ass out, asking him to grind up against you more.

"Carmy... my new clothes.." You whined, feeling yourself get more lost as he felt more of you.

"Keep the skirt on" He ordered, spinning you around and bringing his hands to your face.

"But-"

"But nothing, I'll buy you a new outfit, but.. keep it on," His stare darkened as he played with your lips.

He leaned down, kissing your neck all the way down your chest. He gave wet open kisses to the top of your breasts, massaging them with both hands. You looked down and watched his curls move as he made his way further down. You felt him hike up your skirt, giving him more access to the heat between your legs.

His fingers lightly traveled up the inside of your thighs until he felt a moist patch.

"Fuck, you're all ready for me" He moaned lightly, kissing your covered pussy.

You felt his fingers move your underwear to the side, making them slick with your arousal as he played with your folds. He focused on your clit lightly making you fall into him a little, leaning on his shoulder from the welcomed pressure of his fingers.

He smirked to himself, looking up at you as he worked his fingers back and slowly slipped them in with ease. One finger teasingly first, but he could feel your hunger for the second. With ease, he added another finger.

"Oh shit," you gasped, spreading your legs more trying to hold yourself up.

"Mhmm, good girl," he praised, gently pumping his fingers out of you.

One of your hands went to his hair, and you placed the other one flat against the wall.

Your breath only got more and more shakey. You looked down and watched him bringing his mouth your clit. The sole sight made you pulse. You felt his soft lips pressed against wet ones. His relaxed tongue licking your sensitive bud. Your whole body quivered underneath his tender touch.

You felt yourself building, the pleasurable rhythm his fingers moved at and him sucking your clit made you fight against the urge of climbing higher and higher. You closed your eyes and listened to the wet sounds he was making with his mouth.

Fingers on his other hand were digging into your thigh, holding you steady. His curls tickled your abdomen with every movement he made.

Him watching you above only made him harder. He wanted you to let go. He opened his mouth, giving you wet kisses on your clit, with some light sucking. He pulled away and watched the mess you were. Your chest heaving, your hair tossed, and your brows furrowed with pleasure. He could stare at you forever like this.

"Use me." He breathed out

You opened your eyes to see him gazing up at you. His eyes flickered down to his hand, while his fingers continued to disappear in you.

"W-what?" You stuttered, it getting harder and harder for you to concentrate.

"Use me," He repeated, staring at you with his blown out pupils.

He placed his free hand on top yours that was in his hair. You felt him tighten your grip on his hair.

A grunt came out of his mouth and in that moment, you realized he liked his hair getting pulled.

Your mouth fell open to the thought of him being at your mercy. You watched as he eagerly brought his mouth back to pulsing core.

His tongue lovingly licking your bundle of nerves, with his lips wrapping around and sucking every so often. He could feel your wall gripping onto his fingers. He knew you were close.

"Carmyyy.." You whined, gripping onto his curls.

You felt yourself slowly start to grind your hips into him. A muffled groan came from him, the sound traveling straight to your clit. You fumbled, feeling it travel up your spine.

You felt his hand lift your leg over his shoulder, bringing him deeper into your folds. His finger tips traveled up and down your thigh as he devoured your pussy.

He watched you whimpering out and calling out his name weakly. He couldn't resist, and brought his hand down, palming his harden self in his tight jeans. He hastily unbuckled and unzipped them, giving him a little bit of relief and ease of access. Calvin Klein briefs peeked out from the undone jeans and were stretched against his bulge. He felt the moistness in his underwear from the continuous leaking cock. He half-ass pulled out it, giving himself some relieving strokes from the sight of you fucking his face.

With his sucks and kisses getting sloppier, he passionately focused on your throbbing pussy. He knew you couldn't last much longer. Hell, he wasn't going to last much longer. He pulled his hand away from his begging erection and wrapped his arm around your thigh. He gently nursing your throbbing clit with his tongue. Slowly, he added his index finger, feeling your lips suck them in as he pumped more.

You looked down and saw his blue love-drunken eyes on you, with a smirk on his face. He started angling his hand, sending another wave through you.

"Oh god.." You cried out, leaning more of your weight on to him.

He pulled his glistening mouth away, "Come f'me," His breath rugged and heavy.

"Carrmmyy-"

"Ssshhh, come on baby girl" He rasped, kissing your inner thigh.

You couldn't fight it anymore. You felt the pressure of pleasure build fast.

"Keep g-goin'" you whined, your hands tangled in his hair.

He leaned in and went back to sucking your clit. He felt your hips faulter feeling his tongue there again. Your thrusts became more desperate as you chased the high that he was inflicting on your pussy. He looked up seeing your mouth open in pure ecstasy.

You felt his fingers hit that one spot over and over again and mixed with his tongue lapping up your clit, you couldn't hold on any longer.

"Carm- Babe... I'm comin-" You gasped, your grip tightening on his hair.

He hungrily devouring your pussy, sucking on your clit and lips as your legs shook around him.

As he watched you fall apart in front of him, he couldn't hold back anymore. He impulsively brought his hand down to his weeping cock and stroked himself eagerly while lapping up your juices. He felt you tug his hair harder, and with that he let out a pleasurable moan.

The wave washed over you with the tension in your body melting away with orgasm. Your head fell back, breathing rapidly, trying to recover from the rush that was still flowing in your veins.

Your eyes fluttered open, and fell on Carmy below you gently kissing your outer lips before easing his fingers out of you, his hand completely covered in your juices. He pecked your inner thigh a couple of times before bringing your leg down from his shoulder.

As he pulled away from you, your eyes landed on white globs all over the bottom of his white t-shirt.

"Babe... Did you?" You asked a cheeky smile crept up on your face.

"Yea- Yeah I did" He looked down and chuckled.

You leaned down bringing him into a kiss, tasting yourself off of him. His tongue brushing against yours. With him still on his knees, he gently pulled down, the now, wrinkled pencil skirt.

"I think I owe you a skirt" He grinned, as you helped him up to his feet,

"I think so." You looked down, flattening the wrinkled with both hands.

"Are you going to be wearing skirts every day?" He raised an eyebrow, playing with the buttons on your shirt.

"Uh.. Most likely"

He sucked in his lips and glanced away for a moment.

"That's going to be hard" He hummed bringing his blue eyes back down to yours.

"I'll make sure it won't be an issue" You winked before giggling

A smile played on his lips before he leaned into give you a tender kiss.

"Here, let's get this off," you tugged the bottom of his t-shirt.

He raised his arms, letting you slip the shirt off of him and being met with his toned chest that only made you want to go for round two.

You could feel your sensitive pussy murmur awake from the thought of him bending you over and railing you. The thought made your stomach twist with excitement.

"C'mon, let's go take a shower" You teasingly smiled, and grabbed his undone belt that was still wrapped around his jeans making him follow you to the bathroom obediently.

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jamminvroomvroom · 5 months

Text

777.

ln x fem!reader

in which lando has a wild week in vegas

on a bit of a roll whoops! had to write something slutty for vegas week/lando’s birthday so here it is! enjoy my loves and please please pleeeeease tell me what you think! 🎲💘 have literally been thinking about this since vegas was announced and i couldn’t stop listening to silk sonic lol

posting this with the @lavenderlando seal of approval 🫡🤍

inspired loosely by 777 by silk sonic

warnings: 18+ minors dni i am so serious!! listen it’s smut. it’s a lot lot lot of smut. alcohol, swearing, fuckboy!lando, one night stand vibes, choking, unprotected sex, general sex acts, some kinky shit, fluff, minor angst bc lando is a moody little shit

5k words

lando had gotten used to the taste of champagne.

the golden bubbles had grown on him over the course of the season, they tasted like success. so, he didn’t protest when several magnums showed up at the round table, some ridiculous happy birthday remix being blasted over the casino speakers.

it was the night of his 24th birthday, and the drinks hadn’t stopped flowing. he was surrounded by his friends, max and ash joining him, as well as the drivers that had arrived in vegas. the crisp white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows by now, midnight fast approaching, the material half unbuttoned.

they’d started the night in a bar, drowning in a river of alcohol, and now they were in a casino, one of many on the strip. it was all a bit predictable, kitschy decor everywhere he looked since he’d arrived in las vegas, but that’s what made it iconic. the tackiness seemed to mesh well with the old money vibe, and lando knew this would be a birthday to remember.  

everything was mahogany, gold or red. nothing didn’t twinkle in the lights. his suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, curls messy already from the light breeze of november in the desert. his cheeks were champagne rosy, the alcohol going straight to his head and he felt so fucking good.

everyone toasted to the birthday boy, slot machines rattling in the background. lando didn’t usually enjoy this sort of environment, but he was too drunk to care, deciding to embrace the insanity of his life and live on the edge for one night.

he found himself hunched over a gaming table, fingers drumming against the green felt. his eyes scanned the embroidery, taking in the game that was being played. blackjack, he assumed. this really wasn’t his type of place.

by then, as if by some sort of divine intervention, it was.

a flash of red. a swish of hair. manicured nails on a martini glass.

suddenly blackjack seemed like the best fucking game in the world.

lando couldn’t look away from you.

you were stood right opposite him, drink in hand, red satin draping over every curve of your frame. the dress seemed to cover everything, and nothing at all, perfect for the environment you were in. it was daring, enticing, and lando sure liked being enticed.

from the very second he laid eyes on you, he was picturing what you’d look like against a clean, white bedspread, how his name would sound rolling off your tongue in the form of a desperate whimper. it was a crude thought, but he’d become a crude man.

things had changed a lot since his last breakup. he was messy, leaving a trail of clothes and kisses across every country he stepped foot in. he didn’t get off on the number of people he’d slept with, he got off on the rush of someone new, and he knew before he’d even touched down in vegas, a week earlier than he needed to, that this would probably be the messiest week of his life.

but then he saw you, and it felt weird. he didn’t just want to learn your name and bend you over the nearest surface, gone from your bed before the sun was even in the sky. he was addicted at first sight; he had to take you home, at the very least.

his fixation on you was broken by the dealers voice; it seemed like you were up to play next and you needed at least another player. lando’s eyes flitted back to you, wondering if he even knew how to play blackjack before he offered himself up to you on a glaring shiny platter. you took the decision away from him, because this time, you were staring right back at him.

internally, he was choking on air. externally, he was mentally undressing you with a filthy smirk on his face.

“wanna play, birthday boy?” you smiled coyly, an eyebrow quirked seductively. he could have fallen right to his knees at just the sound of your voice. sweet and spicy.

lando realised that you’d seen the embarrassing display the boys had put on for him. maybe you even knew who he was. he definitely wanted to know who you were, and that’s why he decided to give in to your electric stare.

“you’re on.”

he lost.

every. single. game.

numbers were never lando’s thing.

it was hard to care, though, when he had you sprawled out on the desk of his hotel room, his lips all over your neck.

the walk from the casino up to his room had been short, a bottle of champagne in his left hand and the curve of your ass in his right. there’d been very little small talk, very little convincing needed to seduce you, not with the way you’d been eye-fucking from opposite sides of the table, cards laid bare before you both.

he’d kissed you in the elevator, sloppy and desperate, pressed you against the door to his suite, and quickly pinned you to the other side of it once you were finally inside. you tasted like fruit liquor and cigarettes, your dress slowly bunching at your hips as his hands roamed the silky material. lando was restless, craving everything you had to offer, so he picked you up effortlessly, spreading his palms across the back of your thighs.

it had been a short walk to the desk from the door, and he placed you down carefully. lando slid the dress up your thighs, his finger grazing your calf as he did. you were arching into him, pushing his jacket off his frame and frantically tugging at the buttons of his dress shirt until it was hanging undone off his shoulders.

the look in your eyes sent his blood rushing, frenzied and desperate for him as much as he was for you. taking your jaw in his hand, he tilted your chin towards him until you were looking up at him through your lashes. lando tucked your hair behind your ear, continuing to graze down your neck until he reached the flimsy strap of your dress.

“are you gonna let me have you?” his grip on your jaw tightened and he studied your face.

he gulped when your lips twisted into a smile, conniving, dangerous, red lipstick smudged deliciously. you hadn’t caved into his touch, fallen into submission, and suddenly lando was swimming way out of his depth.

it seemed he’d finally met his match.

you pushed him away, giggling as he stumbled backwards towards the bed, and stood from your place on the desk. slowly, you made your way towards him, until you’d backed him up all the way to the foot of the bed, at which point he collapsed. he scrambled up onto his elbows, smirking up at you.

your eyes raked over his frame, swollen lip caught between your teeth. he looked disheveled in the best way, shirt framing lean sun kissed skin.

slowly, you unzipped your dress, letting it fall off your frame. the material pooled at your feet and you stepped out of it carefully, kicking it away. lando had moved up the bed so that he was sitting against the headboard, watching you hungrily. you were left bare, aside from a lacy thong and red stilettos. lando could have cried tears of joy.

happy fucking birthday.

lando’s eyes lit up like 777 had spun onto a slot machine. he may have lost at blackjack but he’d definitely hit the jackpot.

you crawled onto the bed towards him, not stopping until you were sat on his lap. his hands scaled your thighs, stroking up and down the soft skin. you rolled your hips, experimenting, toying with him, and he groaned, low and loud.

“does this answer your your question?” you whispered, leaning into him so that you could loop your arms around his neck.

lando kissed you, slow and sloppy, sitting up even further just to feel you closer. he could feel your nipples brushing against his bare chest, low whines breaking through the kiss your shared every time you felt too sensitive. your bodies were rolling together in unison, friction building nicely between your legs.

he was growing impatient, itching to get rid of the remaining barriers between you. lando held you still, tight, flipping you both over so that he was hovering over you. his lips worked your neck, hickeys littered down your neck and over your collarbone, while his hands moved down your body. he toyed with the band of your thong, snapping the material against your waist.

lando left you there, keening for his touch, while he peeled his shirt off. his trousers went next, along with his boxers, and then he was right back where he’d left off. your panties disappeared in a flash, his kisses punctuated by a splotchy purple mark sucked below your left breast.

and then he was buried between your legs, licking stripes into you like he was starving. he moaned into your pussy when he felt the first pull on his hair, spurring him on. he applied more pressure, taking it slow, revelling in the way you tugged harder and harder with every swipe. lando slid two fingers through your folds, coating them in your slick.

when he slid the digits inside of you, his mouth latched onto your clit, flicking against it relentlessly. he found the perfect rhythm, balance, everything he was doing made you see stars behind your eyelids. you were thrashing, helpless, and he was getting off on it.

you jaw went slack when you raised yourself onto your elbows just to find him grinding against the mattress, groaning into your cunt at the sensation, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. you couldn’t even hold yourself up then, dropping into the mattress as you fell apart beneath him.

lando resurfaced a few moments later, a glint in his eyes, his mouth glistening in the dim light. your vision was hazy, body shattered, but you ached for more of him. the feeling only intensified, your legs tightening around his waist, when he raised his coated fingers to his lips, lapping up every last drop of you. his tongue swirled around his digits lewdly, and you shuddered.

lando didn’t mind at all when you pushed him onto his back, clambering on top of him. you looked wild, animalistic even, as you guided the tip of his cock through your folds, and he folded his arms behind his head to enjoy the view. once you’d slicked him up, not that he really needed it, you sunk down on him.

fingerprints stained your hips; his grip on you increased tenfold as you adjusted around him, your walls throbbing around his swollen cock. lando sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, holding you down on him. your movements were stuttering, trying to hold yourself together and ignore the way he fit inside you so damn perfectly. you tested the waters, rolling your hips a few times, and his eyes rolled back in his skull.

you felt heavenly, like velvet and butterflies.

he lost all sense of control, every fibre keeping him from wrecking you. his grip didn’t loosen when he fucked up into you, bending his knees for any extra leverage he could get. your nails scraped down his chest, his abs, dripping at the way he tensed under your touch. you tried your best to keep up with him, to meet his thrusts, holding your own for longer than you thought you would.

and then you were folding, melting into his chest, one of his hands pulling both of your behind your back, holding you down as he fucked you into your orgasm. your whines were panted right into his ear, sending him hurtling towards his own high.

lando couldn’t help himself, spilling into you, your body pressed helplessly into his. you were exhausted, wrecked, grinning lazily against the thrumming of his heartbeat.

with your hands held behind your back, you couldn’t stop him from planting you on your back, snaking down your body, burying his tongue deep inside you. the room was filled with the sound of sex, his tongue dragging over you like you were the last meal on earth and he was ravenous. he cleaned up the mess he’d made quickly, sounds that would make the population of sin city blush bouncing off the walls.

your vision was white, maybe your were screaming, it was hard to know what was going on when he had you about ready to ascend. when you fell over the edge, you were boneless, at one with the bed. you watched as he licked his lips, flopping onto the bed beside you.

he stroked your hair and you hummed, content and satiated.

lando didn’t dare look away from you while you came down.

apparently, it was rare to wake up after a wild night in vegas and remember the events of the night before.

lando remembered everything.

the exact shade of your eyes, the feel of red satin and black lace, the way you tasted.

your lips on his skin, hips in his hands, the way you moulded pliantly to his touch.

the way you gave as good as you got.

he was smiling before he’d even opened his eyes, reaching blinding across the bed, ready to propose round… four? five? lando had lost count.

warm hands met cold sheets and suddenly he was wide awake.

lando sat up dead straight, searching for a sign of life in the room. there was none. no shoes on the floor, no dress to match, no thong hanging from the door handle. a pit formed in his stomach.

is this how he made people feel?

waking up alone after the best sex of his life and no trace of the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on was quite miserable.

he thudded back into the mattress, hands shielding his eyes from the burn of daylight. he felt like shit, that was undeniable. when he’d fallen asleep, naked and with you nestled into his side, he couldn’t wait to wake up, perhaps arrogantly thinking that you’d be waking up with him. what was that saying, again?

hope breeds eternal misery.

his brain was wracked with the image of you and him, champagne flowing right before he’d taken you again, bent over the desk. and then again in the shower, a harmless attempt to clean yourselves up ending up with you on your knees before your cheek was pressed against the shower screen.

lando tried to fathom why you’d leave after the night you’d shared. there was something about it, something more intimate in the desperation you’d shared, that left him senseless as to why you were gone before the sun was in the sky.

just like he usually was.

it dawned on him, quite quickly, that the habits he’d made of quick fucks and fast getaways was not good form. it was reckless and casually cruel, and he felt guilt for the first time since his string of one night stands had begun. perspective was a crazy thing.

when he sluggishly made his way out of bed, he felt even worse.

“where’d you get to last night? we lost you after that terrible game of blackjack.” max teased, sipping his coffee.

lando found himself at the breakfast table, head rested on his hand and hoodie pulled tight. he wasn’t in the mood to talk, but max was like a dog with a bone; there was no avoiding this conversation.

“met a girl.” lando mumbled, aimlessly stirring the tea he knew he wasn’t going to drink.

“ah, understood.” max said, grinning knowingly. but then, as if lando’s bad mood finally clicked, he continued. “wait, why are you in a mood then?”

“tired.” lando replied, monotonously. he wasn’t quite sure how to unpack this one.

“bullshit.”

“woke up alone.”

“oh.”

“she was- i don’t know. just thought it would be different, that’s all.” lando couldn’t disguise the deflated tone of his voice.

“don’t tell me you caught feelings from a shag.” max rolled his eyes, chomping away at his toast. lando could barely stomach the sight of food.

“shut up, i’m not saying i fell in love. just liked something about her.”

“well, anything can happen in vegas. you never know, mate. she might find her way back to you.”

lando was getting ready for the netflix cup before he knew it. he’d managed to shake off max, escaping to the darkness of his room, the curtains drawn and the lights off.

he pretended it was the hangover that had him laying face down on his bed.

the last thing he wanted was to go and play corporate circus on the golfing green, but he figured some fresh air wouldn’t hurt. and so, he was in the backseat of a car well on his way to the tournament.

carlos couldn’t distract him, neither could alex or pierre. rickie fowler was much less interesting that he hoped, or maybe he wasn’t and lando just wasn’t interested enough. not even zak’s mclaren printed trousers could cheer him up.

lando was leaning into his golf club, starting mindlessly into the crowd, waiting for this garish event to begin when he caught a glimpse of someone he recognised. in a sea of influencers and obnoxious businessmen, there you were.

there you fucking were, in your knee high boots and a mini skirt, sunglasses perched on your nose, skintight top under an oversized blazer and hair shining under the warm sunlight. he lost his balance, the golf club slipping from underneath him, and the only thing that kept him upright was the burning urge to keep his eyes on you.

just who were you?

lando didn’t need to clarify whether or not you were looking at him, too. no, you made it abundantly clear by the way you winked at him, before pushing your sunglasses back up the bridge of your nose.

you fucking winked.

he took a step in your direction, shaky legs ready to carry him all the way over to you. he only had your first name and he craved your second, your phone number, anything really. he’d just take the small talk, to be completely honest.

but then the klaxon screeched, knocking him out of his trance and he whipped round to discover that they were ready to tee off. lando cursed under his breath, rapidly turning to search for your face but you were nowhere to be seen.

had he imagined you? had he imagined all of it?

every golf ball hit was hit with frustrated vengeance.

the week disappeared in a bittersweet blur.

lando had achieved multiple hangovers and about zero dollars in winnings, but he’d successfully managed to take his mind off of you.

okay, so that was a bare faced lie, but if lando didn’t lie to himself, he wouldn’t be able to lie to anyone else.

he wouldn’t be able to lie to max that he was no longer moping. he wouldn’t be able to lie to the media when they asked him if he was oh so excited about the race. he wouldn’t be able to lie to his team when they asked him if he was still suffering the consequences of his week long hangover.

lando had been rushing around all day, after a solid p4 in qualifying the night before. the entire day had been horrendous, sequins and bright lights being shone in his eyes. all he wanted to do was hide, get in the car and then go to bed.

fate had other plans.

lando was rushing to the front of the grid for the national anthem, certain that whatever display that was about to occur would make him nauseous. he was derailed on his journey, caught by rachel brookes in the pitlane, and then accosted by martin brundle once he’d made his was onto the grid.

“good qualifying yesterday and good luck today!” martin called to lando, turning to wrestle another insufferable celebrity.

as lando was making his getaway, ready to jog through the masses of people to his place at the front, he went barrelling into another body, putting his hands out to steady himself and the poor person that had become his collateral damage. as he regained his balance, he must have looked like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his head.

“are you stalking me?” was all he could choke out when his eyes met yours.

what the actual fuck were you doing here?

lando had given up on the possibility of ever seeing you again, and yet, here you were, stood under the bright floodlights on the grid, his office. this was the last place he’d expected you to show up, paddock pass swinging from your neck. again, what the actual fuck were you doing here?

“might as well be, at this point.” you teased. “hopefully you’ll do better today than you did at golf on tuesday.” you smiled coyly up at him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

lando was on quite the time crunch, glancing at the time on the clock at the front of the grid. he had a minute to spare, if he was lucky, but he had to talk to you, before you inevitably disappeared again.

“thought i’d get at least your phone number before you left.”

“from what i hear, you don’t usually stick around long enough for those.” you smirked.

well, his reputation certainly proceeded him. he couldn’t really argue with that.

“maybe i’m trying to change that.” lando attempted to flirt but really, he sounded desperate. you didn’t seem to mind.

“i’ll make you a deal,” you proposed, leaning in just a little bit closer. lando’s breath hitched in his throat. “get on that podium, and i’ll be waiting in your hotel lobby.”

“and if i don’t?” lando’s mouth was dry.

“maybe i’ll see you next year.”

lando watched you walk away, your hips swaying tantalisingly, wondering if the hefty fine he would be bollocked with would be worth it if he didn’t move his ass for the national anthem.

this would be the drive of his fucking life.

lando couldn’t recall a time he’d left a track faster in his life.

media duties were rushed, so was the shower he had before he fled. it was lucky he was already on the strip, so the walk to his hotel was blissfully short.

he entered the lobby with a shit eating grin and a comically large bottle of champagne in hand.

a string of second places had gotten rather frustrating, but this one felt particularly good. a podium was a podium, fair and square, and assuming you’d kept to your end of the bargain, he was in for the best celebration of his life.

sitting pretty at the bar that stretched through the lobby, you were waiting for him, heels swinging from the stool you rested on. denim clung to your hips, a dark corset style top moulding to your curves. he wondered if love at first sight was real; lust at first sight certainly was.

lando’s eyes beckoned to towards him, and you slipped inconspicuously into the elevator together, not wanting to draw too much attention to your rendezvous. it was a futile attempt, frankly, because he had you backed into the mirror before the doors had even fully shut.

kisses on your neck had your eyes fluttering closed, one of his knees slotting comfortably between your thighs. one of his hands was clasped tight around the neck of the neck of the bottle, giving lando the fantastic idea to find your neck with his free one. he held you firmly, forcing you to look at him.

“i’m gonna make you wish you never left.”

hours on the mattress pulling countless orgasms from one another left you both weak, exhausted, a little bit clingy.

lando felt electric. no other person had ever left him so feral, so euphoric.

he’d had you first against the door, pulling your jeans off and pinning you against it, your thighs in his firm grasp as he fucked you into the wooden panel. then, he’d taken you to bed, your knuckles turning white from your brutal grip on the headboard when he’d planted you down on his mouth. two orgasms later, you were face down in the sheets, ass in the air for him while he slammed into you like his life depended on it, pulling you into his chest by your hair when you reached your climaxes.

all that hard work called for a bath, where you both found yourselves now. it had started off quite innocently, sat at opposite ends of the extravagantly large bathtub amongst the bubbles. but then you’d given him those eyes, and then your back was pressed against his chest, your body draped over his. his head was nestled into the crook of your neck, one arm slung over your waist. his other hand brought the bottle of champagne to his lips, the liquid going down smoothly. lando pressed the bottle to your pursed lips too, trading backwards and forwards while your bodies relaxed into the hot water.

lando’s hand on your waist was getting restless, fingers drumming over your abdomen, up, up, up, until he found your breast. he circled your nipple with his finger, not quite touching the bud yet, but he could feel it hardening from his scarce touch. your hips rolled backwards into his, feeling him hardening once again against your lower back. lando cupped your breast, massaging it in his hands before he switched, flitting between your tits.

you slumped somehow even further into him, not a millimetre of space between your bodies. he was winding you up beautifully, heat burning between your legs once more. you didn’t know how you did it, how you could be so ready for each other after the eventful evening you’d already shared.

lando was flicking your nipples between his finger, switching back and fourth until you were moaning quietly. you took charge, the sensitivity building too quickly, and so you rolled over in his arms, clambering into his lap.

the bath water splashed around you, moving in small waves across the tub as you situated yourself on top of him, grinding down on him until he was buried deep within your walls. he found that spot, rolling your hips against his, and then you were rocking up and down on him, nice and slow. he touched parts of you that never had been before, the pace and the angle intensifying every little sensation. your head was thrown back, hands clawing at his shoulders for something to hold onto, just for the feel of him.

lando reached over the edge of the bathtub, blindly searching for the bottle he’d discarded while you’d been switching positions. he felt the green glass grazing his fingertips and brought it back to his lips, eyes trailing over your body in sheer awe.

he couldn’t help himself, taking a sip before tilting it towards you, pouring the golden bubbles over your clavicle, jaw tightening - just like your cunt did at the sensation - as he watched the sticky alcohol drip down over the curve of your bouncing breasts.

you quivered when you felt his tongue lap over your nipple, then the other, dragging over your sodden flesh until he reached the junction between your neck and your shoulder. he bit down, hard, eyes rolling back at the taste in his mouth and the way you clamped down around him, whimpering out between breathless pants.

lando felt you let go, stuttering on his cock and sinking down on top of him, the water - now lukewarm - soothing your tired limbs. he held you close, basking in the intimacy of the moment, his hearing honing in on the dull hum of ecstasy you expelled.

the bath grew colder and colder as you sat there, comfortable silence filling the air along with the quiet rush of water that came with any movements made. when the time came, lando held you up as you got off of him and stepped onto the plush rug, quickly following suit. you were eyeing the shower when he turned to hand you a towel.

“i think i need a shower, as much as i enjoyed the bath.” you spoke, opening the screen and stepping in to adjust the knobs.

lando weighed up his options, agonising over joining you or doing his back in. he couldn’t exactly tell his trainer that his back gave out from too much sex.

“am i invited?” lando asked, stepping in behind you, hands on your waist.

“seems like you’ve already invited yourself.” you teased, looking at him over your shoulder.

“no funny business, you.” lando rested his head on your shoulder.

“from me? you’re just as bad.” you quipped, letting the hot warm stream all over your flushed bodies.

lando stayed as he was for a second, but then you turned your head again, looking at him from the corner of your eye and he needed to kiss you. he couldn’t help but, and so he twisted you round to face him and leaned in. you were more than receptive, fingers raking through his wet curls.

the hot water rained down on you while you stood there, holding each other close. lando couldn’t put his finger on it, why he didn’t want to let you go. he couldn’t even begin to process the idea of having anyone else in his arms like this. it was absurd, really, but he was too caught up in the moment to care.

when you were both clean and dry, you laid down in bed, gazing mindlessly at one another. his eyes followed the lines of your face, the curve of your lips. he learned a lot about you, a formula 1 fan with who ran her own business and took herself on holiday to vegas. the conversation flowed like the champagne had and you were laughing at all his stupid jokes. in turn he grinned like a fool at your quick wit, the sound of your laughter.

“so what are you doing next? back to work?” lando asked, an idea forming in his mind like a tornado.

“nope,” you popped the p. “giving myself some well deserved time off.”

“have you ever been to abu dhabi?” lando asked, lips quirking mischievously.

inbox me your thoughts bc aaaaaaaa 😨😨

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