── ✎ SOMETHING, SOMETHING...
“damn, your past lovers were a greedy men, aye!” johnny’s voice echoes through your flat.
he’s sitting at his desk in front of the fan, wearing nothing but his boxers. you’re sprawled out on the bed, lying on your stomach, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. just your panties and one of johnny’s old oversized military shirts hang off you. for the past few minutes, you’ve felt his eyes glued to your arse. it’s practically right in his line of sight, so you can’t exactly blame him.
you glance up at him, confused and already fed up with his nonsense. you’re used to his random comments, he says whatever pops into his head, no filter. and he knows you won’t really judge him for it, so he lets his thoughts run wild.
“what the fuck does that even mean?” you ask with a sigh, shaking your head.
you had been right, his eyes were locked on your arse, not even pretending to look away.
“well, you see, when i was waiting in line for coffee yesterday, there were these two women in front of me. really, i say women, but they were barely fourteen. i should’ve said girls,” he starts, already drifting from the main point. “so, these two girls, they were talking, right? waiting in line, of course they were talking. and i know you always tell me not to listen to other people’s conversations, but i couldn’t—”
most of the time, when his mind wandered like that, you just let him play in the background, white noise, until you heard a few keywords that meant he’d finally circled back to the point.
but right now, you’re stuck on what he said before. you’re confused, maybe a little humiliated. he hadn’t said it like an insult, it sounded casual, but still, why the hell was he talking about your past lovers?
“johnny,” you cut him off. “back to the main point. what was that about my past lover?” you snap, sharper than intended.
“yeah, sorry,” he says quickly, catching the edge in your voice. “they were talking about this theory, about beauty spots. how they’re the favorite places for your past lover to kiss you… you know, in another life and stuff? and well...”
his eyes drop again, landing on your arse, where six small, dark beauty marks scatter across the skin.
“oh,” you breathe out, feeling the heat rise to your face.
the shame bubbles up, not because you were wrong to feel thrown off, but because he hadn’t meant “past lover” in the way you thought. he wasn’t talking about before him, he meant before this life.
getting up from his chair, he kneels beside you on the bed, his eyes never leaving your arse. he doesn’t say anything, just starts grabbing at you like a kitten making bread. he kneads the skin so good, you let out a small, involuntary whine.
the way he looks at your body always amazes you. like he’s discovering it for the first time, every single time. you know johnny's a generous lover, always giving, rarely taking, and his filthy mouth never shuts up about how much he adores every inch of you.
“and you know, i was thinking…” he murmurs, slowly bending down to nip at the soft curve of your cheek. “with the way i leave teeth marks and hickeys on this pretty arse, maybe we were lovers in a past life.”
before you can respond, his mouth is back on your skin, his teeth nipping, his tongue soothing the sting. your phone slips from your hand, landing with a soft thud on the mattress as a moan escapes you.
it isn't even truly sexual, not yet. johnny just loves to worship you. he doesn’t need anything in return. he loves to kiss you, taste you, study your skin like it holds every answer he's ever wanted.
his mouth leaves your arse and begins its slow journey upward. his hands slide your shirt higher as his lips follow, until he reaches your neck. he pushes the shirt away from your shoulder and reconnects his lips with your skin a second later.
“isn’t it fucking romantic, bonnie?” he murmurs into your ear, already knowing you’re drifting into that soft, horny daze he loves. “you and me, we were always meant to be.”
he kisses a beauty spot on your neck. the one he always returns to. the one so often hidden beneath his teeth marks and hickeys, it barely has time to fade.
“you see, i fucking love this theory, baby,” he coos against your skin, laying his body over yours, grinding his now-hard cock against your arse.
“i was you lover in every fucking life you've ever lived. you've been mine since the dawn of time. always”
fun fact : i might have six beauty spots on my arse... i know no shame
