#sorry the lighting is just. all over the place.
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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬
pairing: gojo x fem!reader
summary: once childhood friends with the crown prince, you find yourself in a troubled situation when he calls for you to help him around with his daily duties as the king to be. he seems to have forgotten everything, forgotten who you even were. but as the palace's most loyal servant there's only so many things that you can tolerate, including the prince.
warnings: 18+ mdni, slight angst misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, minor panic attack/overall anxiety (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo is a certified munch
word count: 14.1k (sorry)
note: i can only write gojo in a royal setting now so that’s that. i really liked writing this fic so comments and reblogs are always appreciated!
jjk masterlist
it all started with that night.
when the air was biting, cold and harsh. the moon offered so little of her light as you ran across the open foyer, feeling your tear stained cheeks more than you had back in the ballroom as you could barely feel your heartbeat, not stopping until you were out of the grand double doors, running as fast as you could through the gardens until you were sure everything and everybody was far behind you.
you continued for a little more, finding yourself at the foot of the rose gardens, your chest heaving up and down, sweat dotting your forehead. you were sure the rouge that you had so carefully dotted onto yourself was ruined now, but that was the least of your worries.
you place a hand on your chest, catching your breath, looking behind you to make sure that nobody had followed you outside. most nights, such as ones like this, you enjoyed the freckles of stars above you, but now, all that filled your mind were the events of moments ago.
the staring, the judgment.
“is everything all right?”
your head snaps around, your eyes wide in shock as you find a man standing behind you, a careful feet away so as to not startle you even more than he already had. you couldn't make out his face in the darkness, but with your blurry vision, you doubt you could make out your own reflection.
you nod feverishly, trying for a smile that was shaking and quivering as you turn away for a second, patting your cheeks dry as you try out for a weak laugh.
“yes, t-thank you,” your voice cracks, your lips trembling and your breathing heavy. your uniform and apron was sticking tightly to your skin and everything seemed as if it was tilted on an axis. you felt like the world was spinning in the opposite direction, and had it not been for the strong hands behind you that steadied you upwards, you were sure you would’ve fallen down.
“miss, are you sure everythings alright? surely i can call for a-” the man stops when you shake your head quickly, just realizing how much trouble you were going to be in if your superior ever saw you missing from your post.
“no, thank you, i, i have to go,” you try to stand up again but stumble, grateful that he still had a steady hand on your elbow, “i apologize, i don’t know why i’m so dizzy.” you say, holding your head in your hands, trying to ease your temple with the thumping it was doing.
“would it perhaps be because you ran through the entire courtyard in a matter of seconds?” his voice is low yet teasing, and you should be embarrassed and mortified that somebody saw you, but you feel beside yourself tonight and laugh, nodding along.
“perhaps,” there’s a small smile on your face, but the gentleman chuckles along, helping you stand comfortably, making sure you didn’t need him until he was absolutely sure you wouldn’t topple over.
“are you not enjoying the festivities?” he remains a good distance away from you, though you’re glad he’s given you some space.
you swallow thickly, rubbing at your eyes and cheeks to rid them of the tears but they just seem to be non-stop.
“the festivities aren’t the problem,” you sniffle, hiccuping as you laugh wetly, “i just seem to be too sensitive for the likes of them.” you say the last word with some weight.
you thought that after all these years, after all the times you proved you’re more than your lineage, somebody always manages to bring it up.
he doesn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, the only sound that you can hear is your shuddered breathing.
“take in a deep breath,” his words are soft, but your head snaps up, confused.
“it’s a breathing exercise,” he explains further, gently, “one in, one out,” he places a sturdy hand on your back, one that was too close for if a chaperon were to ever see you in such a compromising position you would be ruined, “we’ll do it together, i’ll count.”
your eyes are squeezed shut, but you mimic your breathing to his rhythmic breathes, your mouth open as small puffs of air fill your collapsing lungs. it takes a while for this sort of breathing pattern to take effect, but it helps you to calm down a bit. your nerves are still erratic, but it’s better than before.
“there you go,” his voice is soothing, calming, something you’ve never heard before, something you’ve never known you’ve needed.
there’s a few beats of silence, your eyes squeezed shut until you finally open them again to get a good look of who this stranger was.
“i have to thank you…” you trail off, your breath catching harshly in your throat when you're met with those familiar eyes, the same ones you see in the paintings you are set to clean each and every day, the same ones that look at yo with childish joy when he used to chase you around the courtyard when you were children. the infamous white hair, a tale telling of his lineage, and the countless medallions on his suit.
you don’t know what to do, and you take a tentative step back. all the feelings of fear, of embarrassment, of dread coming rushing back, but ten times worse.
“sato…y-your highness, i,” you stagger backwards, “i…” you’re at a loss for words, your breaths coming out erratic again.
he reaches his hand out for you to take again, his brows furrowed in confusion with you sudden change of emotions, growing into even more confusion when he gets a better look at you, memories rushing back at the strange familiarity of your face, but you don’t know as you scrunch your uniform between your fingers, muttering some unintelligible words under your breath as you bow hurriedly, brushing past him as you speedily make your way back to the palace, breaking about every protocol you have been taught since your first day there,
blissfully unaware of just how much your life was about to change.
—
the life of a palace maid is a bustling one, full of daily duties that fill your time from the moment you wake up to the moment you put your head down to rest. dusting the staircases, making sure the royal portraits are in tip-top shape, and, of course, tending to any of the needs the royals themselves need.
you were lucky in your position, not too close to the top where any slight mess up could be your undoing, but far up where you could enjoy the more tedious and rewarding of tasks that others, such as the kitchen workers or the stables servants, may not have the luxury of having. you count your lucky stars every day that you’re not stuck cleaning fru-fru’s (the king's prized horse) droppings.
“there really are no breaks,” lydia muttered under her breath, folding the freshly cleaned linen sheets as you gave her a look from under your lashes, warning her to be careful with her words, never too sure of how alone you two could be, “what? it’s just the truth.”
you snort, not disagreeing with her because it was the truth. there had been royal balls upon endless balls, countless gala’s and feasts for the past couple of months. the prince was finally rumored ready to take on a wife, and all the eligible bachelors and their mamas have flocked to the scene, ready to become part of the gojo family.
the last one had been all but two weeks ago, the same one where…you couldn’t think of it too much, glad that nobody else was there to witness your trivial breakdown. all except the prince, of course, but you hadn’t been beheaded yet so you never mentioned it to anybody.
but, despite the last social gathering being so recent, another one was about to take place in a week. everybody could feel their hands splitting raw at the thought of cleaning the palace once again, but it was all in a day's work.
“though i must say, you always seem to find a way to entertain yourself through all these surely grueling events,” you tease, a knowing look in your eyes as an unmistakable blush takes over her cheeks.
“well!” she exclaimed, laughing under her breath as she fanned herself with her gloved hand, picking up another sheet to fold, “if a young man displayed his notable affections towards me, i would only be mad not to entertain them.”
“you’re such a flirt,” you giggle, careful to keep your voices quiet so that nobody would come and break the two of you up. you were fortunate enough to spend most of your time with your closest friend, but if anybody ever got a whiff of just how much the two of you enjoyed folding bed sheets or tidying up the king's study.
“there have been countless events, and yet, there is no wife,” she says this more as a statement rather than anything, “do you think it’s because the prince is cruel?”
she was right about this, too. it was more often than not when lydia was wrong.
it had been a couple months of trying to set the prince up with his rightful match. women from corners of the earth, places you’ve never heard of, have found their ways to these balls and galas. of course, the palace did all they could to quell the rumors on why it was taking their beloved prince so long to find a wife, and yet, they could do so much. the rumors were beginning to grow, and none in his favor.
you laugh uncomfortably, hoping that nobody could hear the two of you in this closet.
“the prince? cruel?” you shrug, feigning indifference.
he wasn't cruel when you met him.
and he never was crue all those years agol, or at least from what you could recall.
because before there was lydia, there was satoru.
so many years ago, you and the prince were childhood friends. he somehow introduced himself one of the days you were cleaning the castle, your uniform still so large seeing how it was made for a teenager and you were yet to reach six, so you were swallowed by it. but he didn't seem to care much about who you were, rather the fact that he was able to find somebody around his age, happy to have a friend that didn’t have to practice fencing with.
the two of you were close, as close as a prince and a young maid can get.
you never had a semblance of a normal childhood, but for those few years that you had known him, he offered you some normality that you would've never expected from the crown prince. at nights, when the two of you would meet up in a spare closet, he’d unravel a satchel full of bread and sweets, things he had stolen from his dinner table, knowing that your meals were often far smaller than his.
he didn’t seem to forget you, even as he grew in his adolescence. he’d still find you wherever you were, a bright smile on his face as you gave yourself a quick break, running around the gardens with him as you squealed, trying not to get caught by him as he tried to push you down into the river nearby.
but, you tended to be more level-headed than him, and easily foresaw the day that came when his advisors found out he had been befriending the servant girl, more specifically the daughter of the town courtesan, and before you knew it, you had been swept away, promised to never mingle with him again. they couldn’t strip you bare of your position at the palace, knowing that you worked for far less than others asked for and longer than most did, but they changed your place, your rooms, and you barely saw him again. he soon forgot, and you counted yourself lucky that you were still able to have a memory to latch on to.
“or perhaps he’s unlikely to even take a wife. he may prefer his time spent with multiple women, if you get what i mean,” she continues, your thought coming back into focus as you suddenly realize what she just said, swatting her with one of the towels while saying such an unbecoming thing about her prince.
“or maybe he’s taking his time,” you give her a pointed look for being so crass, “he might be holding out for a love match.” you say, your gaze focused on your nimble fingers as you fold the sheets as if it were second nature, your body moving faster than your mind was.
she snorts, rolling her eyes at your romantics.
“you can’t-” she goes to say something but is crudely cut off by the doors behind the two of you swinging open.
your necks snap around as you are instant to stand, bowing deeply to whoever it is that walks in, looking up only after a brief pause.
a part of you tenses upon seeing the housekeeper, miss lottie, entering in. her graying hairs were pulled back in a tight bun, the uniform that all the maids wore ironed to perfection. though she may not be as in her youth as she once was, her face was void of wrinkles, a feat, considering her position.
two men who you had never seen before walking in behind her, standing on either side as she motions for the both of you to introduce yourselves. lydia bows once again, saying her name, and you do the same.
“these are the last of my girls, gentlemen,” she starts with a sigh, massaging her temple, missing the confused look you and lydia shared as she offered no explanation for what was happening, “these are the only other maids in my department that wear this uniform.”
the two guards look at you and lydia top and down, their eyes racking over your features, your postures, your faces. you felt sweat prickling at the back of your neck, your hands growing clammy as your mouth dried.
surely, it can’t be.
“her,” one of the guards raised his gloved hand to you.
“her?” lydia cries out loud, earning a disapproving look from miss lottie, but the old woman seems to be just as confused as you and lydia.
“come with us,” the other one says, opening the door further, not seeming to care about your stupified state as you grip onto lydia’s wrist as tightly as you could.
you couldn’t speak, couldn't breath. you felt like you did that night, the same dreadful feeling that filled your veins and your lungs, keeping you from taking in the air you so desperately needed.
“gentlemen,” lydia takes a step forward, trying to shield you with her body, “i’m sure whatever it is you’re after, she,” she points her head over to you, “is certainly not it.”
this is it, you tell yourself, they’ve finally tracked you down.
the two guards don’t pay her any mind, don’t even address nor speak to her as they push her aside, wrenching your hands away from her as they try to move you forward, trying to move you away.
“miss lydia, please,” miss lottie almost seems to beg, has her brows furrowed in puzzlement as to what was happening, her mouth agape as she watches them take you away.
you feel your mind go hazy, your vision turning blurry as you dumbly follow the guards out of the room, the muted shouts of your friends growing softer and softer behind you as you walk through the halls you[‘ve been walking through for nearly your entire life,
not knowing if it would be your last.
—
the three of you walk for a while, and it doesn't help that nauseous and sinking feeling that you have growing in the pit of your stomach. your eyes darted around, your cheeks heating up in an uncomfortable flush when you caught the glances the others servants and maids gave, the way they began instantly whispering behind their gloved hands or one another as to what could be happening.
you quickly looked down, watching your steps. if you weren't ruined after whatever this was, the gossip that was to circulate about you surely would.
they lead you up a spiral staircase, through the east wing, and after some time, the walls and the floors begin to grow unfamiliar to you. these are the places that even you weren’t authorized to clean, places that only the most trusted and known people were allowed to be.
you peek around through the corners of your eyes, trying to take it all in one last time. there is more gold encrusted into the painting, the wall decorum, the ceiling. it’s more grand than you even thought the palace could be, and had it not been for your doomed fate, you would’ve tried to savor it more.
the guards in front of you suddenly stop in front of a door, and you almost bump into one of them had you not stopped yourself milliseconds before.
one of the guards raised his fist, knocking once, letting his hands fall behind his back.
you wait with baited breath until you hear a muffled, “come in,” from behind the door, and the other guard turns the knob, the door swinging wide open.
the two men come in before you do, their bodies hiding the view. you stay outside, your hands shaking, waiting until further instruction.
the guards are speaking to the person inside, their voice mixing with each other in your muddled head, and you feel your eyes begin to wet. all of your hard work, all the sacrifices you’ve made along the way, every sleepless night devoted to securing your rank and your future were now going up in flames.
“why didn’t you tell her to come in?” the first voice grows a little louder, “come in, miss,” he calls out, and you take in a deep, shaky breath.
you take a slow, tentative step inside, and then another one. your feet pad in quietly, your head ducked down in respect but also because you couldn't have these people seeing you like this, it was mortifying as it was.
you bow, knowing that you were in the presence of royalty from just the atmosphere of the room alone. you go down as low as you can, almost kissing the floor with your nose.
“you men can go now,” the voice, an all too familiar one, says.
you hear their heavy footsteps behind you, the door shutting with a thud.
“you can stand,” the prince says, his voice less loud and commanding.
you slowly rise, still keeping your head down, your eyes meeting a desk, some papers, and when you finally look up, the prince.
his smile quickly drops when he sees your face, quickly moving away from his seat as he rounds the table, making his way over to you as you quickly wipe away at your tears. it was breaking your etiquette protocol for how you were to act if you were to ever come face to face with royalty, but you don’t see any point in acting in such a way when this is somehow quite similar to your first encounter.
“are you hurt?” he quickly asks, standing a foot away from you, his eyes darting around your body as you quickly shake your head, sniffing as you stand as perfectly still as you could.
“were my guards rough with you?” he looks behind himself at the door, “i will have a word with them immediately-”
but you shake your head again, swallowing thickly as you dip your head down once, going to speak.
“it was not the guards, your highness,” you feel like time is stopping as he stares intently at you, “i just have an apathy for being too emotional at times.” you try to joke, but with the way your heart was beating so loudly and erratically, it drowned out any humor you may have been trying for.
“is it perhaps because you’ve been called to the prince's study with no reason or explanation?” he jokes, his eyes look at you from beneath his long lashes and you laugh wetly.
“perhaps,” you accept the handkerchief he gives you with a small thank you.
you wipe at your tears, quickly composing yourself with taking a couple of more steady breaths, and you were glad that the prince was at least giving you this time to look a little more presentable until he sentenced you to your punishment.
“right, well,” he claps his hands together, a small smile on his face as he inches backwards until he’s able to sit on his desk, not caring for the slue of papers underneath, “i’m glad i was finally able to find you.”
find you?
you don’t say anything, your eyes taking him in for the first time, and for the first time, the rumors were correct.
he was positively gorgeous.
the veil of night hid a lot of his features, leaving only the more pronounced things for you to see. not only that, but you had been sworn to keep away from him, the last time you were really able to see him was years ago.
but now, illuminated under the light from the large windows to the side of him, you can see him as clearly as you possibly could. his eyes were striking and stark, a blue that you could only get if you looked at the sea and saw all the colors mixing around together. his lips were plump and pink. his jaw was sturdy, but that could’ve been said along with the rest of his body, no longer looking like the lanky little boy that you were used to envisioning. though he donned a simple white button up, the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing just how strong he was. everything about him exuded radiance, the spectacularity that only comes with being the crown prince.
you try to focus yourself again, and try not to melt under the way he noticed you staring too hard, his smile turning into something far more teasing.
he wets his lips, sitting up a little bit straight, pushing himself off the table just a bit so that he could be closer to you.
“my name is satoru,” he extends his hand outward, and you stare at it.
oh, a part of you sinks, he doesn't remember you.
“shake, please” he says as if reading your mind, “my hand isn’t infected with a fungal disease if that’s what you’re worried about.”
you quickly nod, feeling sheepish as your hands slowly raise from where they were resting on your crumpled apron, fingers gently and barely there as they glide against his palm until your hand is enclosed in his, fingers curling around his as you shake.
his palm is soft, unlike yours which had grown rough and riddles with scratches and cuts from over the years. he shakes firmly yet gently, not too harsh unlike the other men whose hands you’ve shaken before, making it somewhat a point to not only bruise your skin but to show off their strength as you look at them with a sneer.
you don’t let go until he does, not wanting to seem rude or improper, and your hands quickly fall back down to your sides. you’re aware of the stains of food and dirt on your white apron, the way it is held together through stitches and intricate sewing. it’s a stark difference to what he’s wearing, even if simple, but the quiet opulence is what differentiates the two of you so easily.
he waits patiently and you suddenly realize that he’s waiting for your name. you said it quickly, your eyes darting to him as you bow your head again.
“as i said,” he continued, his head turning as he looked out the window, taking in the scenery, “i have been trying my best to find you ever since, well, i’m sure you remember.”
“i was told by…miss marla scott, is it?” he asks, and you nod, miss lottie, “that you are one of, if not, her best girls.”
you nod again, not knowing what to do. he was going on about this as if all those years ago were a figment of your imagination, as if your childhoods weren’t linked together the way you recall them being. that could be for the best though, seeing how you could be in trouble if anyone were to remember.
“i’ve recently had to do away with some of my valets, they didn’t meet my expectations.” he scratches his jaw, looking back at you, his eyes simmering as you look at him from beneath your lashes.
“i would like for you to be my maid.” he finally said, his fingers playing with the ring on his middle finger, twisting it back and forth as it caught and reflected the sunlight.
there’s a beat of silence, a moment in which the two of you just look at each other.
you almost laughed in shock, your brows shooting upwards in surprise, hands interlinking themselves as they rested on your queasy stomach.
“p-pardon,” you swallow dryly, “pardon me?”
he waves it off, his eyes playful, obviously understanding that you weren’t expecting this and he runs a hand through his arctic hair. you intently watch his every movement, waiting for him to burst out into laughter and to say that this was all one big joke, one meant to set you up into a trap.
“you’d have to make my bed every day, make sure my room is clean. my office,” he motions to the room around the two of you, “as well. anywhere i am, you are. i’m not a particularly messy person, but i like the assurance a maid provides.”
“your highness,” you breathe deeply through your nose, a puff of air coming out as you smile shortly, “i am more than honored, but i’m not sure i’ve been trained the way a personal maid has been trained. i would hate to disappoint you,” you chose your words carefully, but he waves it all off with his gloved hand.
“you will be taught. after all, you are the best, are you not?” his eyes crease around the edges, waiting for you to simply nod once again, and you do, slowly.
“but, your highness, i…” you trail off, failing silent and running out of words as you find yourself sputtering under his gaze. you’re usually one who’s easily composed, your back straight and shoulders pressed backwards, but you feel it all slipping away.
“why me? i surely couldn’t have made a favorable impression the first time we met, your highness.”
he looks at you for a moment, brief, fleeting.
“you’re human, it happens,” he simply says, his eyes flickering a different shade, “my mother always tells me that we forget to exhaust the capabilities that connect us together,” he rubs in between his brows, soothing the crease, not going any further into his explanation when he looks up at you, his smile debonair, “now, do you accept?”
you suck in a breath.
one nod.
yes.
—-
you were quickly swept away from your normal routine of things to become the princes maid, something that you could barely even get out once lydia was able to ask you about what had happened. you can remember the looks you received after walking to your new quarters, a private room for the first time in your life, by the people who judged you the first time around, feeling a little victorious with your single back packed with the three changes of clothes you owned.
you spent days going over what was to be expected of you, and it all felt like it was a joke.
it was too simple, too easy of a job with an even simpler explanation from the prince as to why you were even here.
“his highness wakes up early, so you will need to be up before he is,” one of the ladies who was briskly walking around the princes caves explained rapidly, “and his nighttime schedule is, well, hectic, which means you will have to be with him until he goes to sleep.”
you blink, trying to get that all in as you take mental notes of everything you are being taught.
“and during the day? where should i be?”
she looked up at you as if you were an idiot, as if that was the most obvious question you could’ve asked.
“by his side, of course, you are to ensure his highness is always comfortable. your role is beyond making his bed or simply cleaning up after him. it’s making sure that our prince is at ease when he is to one day become our king.”
you never thought you would be standing behind the door of the prince's chambers, waiting for him to wake up, but your life always seemed to have a different plan waiting for you than what you’d expect.
it’s better than you’d expect it to have been, too. at first, it was difficult getting used to the prince and his way of doing things. he would act rash sometimes, acting without thinking of the consequences. he was playful, he loved laughing. there were times when you’d be standing a good distance away from him when he’d be having dinner with families of women who were there to marry him, diplomats that talked just to bore it would seem, and you’d catch his wandering eye, suppressing a smile that seemed to quirk up on his face as well.
it wasn’t long before you found yourself speaking more freely around him, keeping some of the pleasantries, but regarding him more as a friend, just as you would with lydia.
he would often spend hours away in his study just talking, telling you about his daily outings and the struggles he was having with finding a wife. whenever you offered your thoughts or opinions he listened thoughtfully, his gaze heavy and caring.
though he may not have remembered your ancient friendship, you did, and an old part of you feels like it’s coming back after all those years. the naive part that was just happy to have a person to talk to, somebody that wouldn’t look at you in disgust or pity.
but you bring your focus back to now, listening intently, waiting to hear the bed sheets ruffle and the floorboards to creak as he makes his way out of his bed.
after a couple of weeks of doing this you’ve become somewhat familiar with the prince's way of doing things, and just as you thought he was going to sleep in, you hear the bedsheets ruffle with movement.
“your highness?” you call quietly, “may i come in?”
there’s a loud yawn, something unintelligible, and then you hear the go ahead for you to go.
you slowly open the door, making sure not to be loud as you bow politely, closing the door before you as you set the tray of cold water and fruits down on the nightstand near his bed.
the prince prefers to eat something before he breaks his fast in front of his family and the watchful eyes of the palace, enjoying these small moments he has with himself.
“good morning your highness,” you greet, lighting the candle as you look behind your shoulder to see the prince groggily running at his eyes, yawning once again as he waves tiredly to you.
why he chooses to wake up before the sun is even in the sky is beyond you, but you would be mad to question the choices of the prince. unfortunately, he seems to be waking up even earlier than the times you were told, so every morning you find yourself getting up at the crack of dawn to make sure you’re up before he is.
“did you sleep well?” you walk around the bed, setting down some fresh sheets and clothes for him to pick out, opening the curtains as you watch the sun just barely peek out from the horizon.
“well enough,” his voice is deep, filled with sleep, and you're glad your back is momentarily turned so that he couldn’t see the way a smile threatened to poke its way on your face.
“i’m glad to hear,” you turn around, catching him briefly taking a swing of water, savoring its coolness, and you try not to look too long at the droplets that roll down his chin, splattering on his thigh, “would you like me to go through your events set for the day?”
he glances at you from over his cup, blinking as he wordlessly tells you to continue.
“today, you are to meet with the king's advisors after you break your fast, but i doubt they should take too long. at noon, you have a lunch meeting set with the lady dower and her daughter,” you quote from memory, “and afterwards we are to swiftly get you ready for tonight's ball.”
he groans loudly, opposing this, and you smirk, your eyes trained on him as he sets his water down, sniffing as he stands up, stretching his arms above his head. you feel like a fiend, with the way you quickly avert your gaze from his toned stomach, the happy trail of hair that leads…
your eyes shoot up at him, glad that his were still screwed shut, another yawn escaping his lips as he leans his head side to side, cracking his neck.
“i’ve already met with the lady dower,” he almost whines, his nose wrinkling at the thought, “what do they want this time?”
“a ring, probably,” you mutter under your breath, but he hears, a chuckle falling past his lips as he nods along, tsking as he shrugs. he obviously doesn’t want the dower girl to be his wife, and you could only feel sorry for how tense the meetings going to be.
he picks up a cube of melon, popping it in his mouth, humming at the sweet taste. he offers the bowl to you, just as he’s always done, but you politely decline, just as you’ve always done. you may have become friendly with the prince, but there is still some semblance of protocol that you’ll force yourself to follow.
“is this chocolate?” he pipes up, looking at the tray a bit more closely, holding up the little sweet to the light.
“you’ve mentioned how much you like them, and the kitchen has been making a plethora of them for the ball, so i thought i should snag you some before they're all gone.” you explain, and he turns it around, shooting you a thankful, genuine smile. he sets it down, most likely saving it until the very last moment.
“will you be there? tonight?” he asks, filling up his glass with water once again.
“not down there with you, your highness-”
“how many times have i told you to drop the titles?” he chides playfully, cutting you off as you sigh deeply through your nose. you’re terrified of calling him by his name too many times in private, and slipping up in public, knowing just how bad it would turn out for you if that were to happen.
“not down there with you, gojo,” you say his last name with extra weight, just a little bit of sass, and he rolls his eyes, “i am to help out elsewhere.”
he nods in understanding.
“could you be down there?” he picks up a piece of watermelon, fashioned into a sphere, eating it as you sputter, brows furrowing in slight confusion as you open your mouth, shut it, and then open it again to speak.
“unless i am serving, i would not be allowed,” you explain, following behind him as he moves away from the bed, quickly making the messed up sheets as he makes room for you. you’re supposed to wait until he’s out of the room, but in your growing friendship with the prince, you find it amusing the way he flutters away.
he makes a small sound in the back of his throat, and you look behind your shoulder to see him deep in thought.
“i’ll find a way.”
“what-”
“i’ll see you later,” he exits his room, shutting himself in his bathroom as the other servants are their, waiting with his bath drawn, leaving you there to gape in silence.
—-
gojo somehow stuck to his word, finding a way for you to be near him by the time the ball arrived.
you felt overwhelmed, your senses were going hardwire at the sheer size of everything. it was one thing to be part of setting up the decorations, or to view it from afar behind a pillar, but to be part of it was something totally different.
there had been a couple balls since you first started your new position, but this happened to be the first one that you had gotten clearance for. of course, you weren’t a part of the crowd, hidden somewhere in the midst of servants and servers, but you were nearer than you’ve ever been.
they even dress you up in more fashionable servant clothes, knowing that if you were to wear your tattered uniform it would easily give it away that you weren’t one of them. you didn’t have a job for the evening other than to make sure that the prince was comfortable, so you tried everything you could not to let him out of your sight.
you found yourself searching for lydia in the crowd, but she had told you that she’d be in the kitchens, having to help out with the food they’d be sending out, and so you doubted you would be able to catch a glimpse of her amongst all the chaos that is hidden to their eyes.
the prince, despite your best efforts, kept getting drowned in by the sea of people and ball gowns. every time he twirled a girl around for a dance he was hidden by a wave of colorful fabrics, and you’d have to squint to see his white hair peeking out.
you tapped your fingers on the railing you were leaning against, trying to soak it all in while you had the chance. you had heard of the royal balls and just how extravagant they truly could be, but you never thought you’d have the chance to see one in its entirety.
“i don’t believe we’ve met,”
your head snaps to your left, eyes widening in surprise at the stranger that had somehow slithered their way next to you without noticing.
“i apologize, i didn't mean to scare you,” the man says with an apologetic laugh. you huff out a small sound, shaking your head as you bow your body a little bit, watching as he bows his head in turn.
“no apology necessary, uh, mister…?” you pause, realizing that you actually haven’t even seen his face before, let alone heard of his name.
“fushiguro,” he finishes for you, the scar on his lip quirking upwards as he settles himself on teh railing, looking down at the scene below you as he shoots you a small look, “but i’d prefer it if you’d call me toji.”
you duck your head down, smiling as you repeat your name, feeling heat pricks at the back of your neck. he’s certainly handsome, and most likely higher ranked in title with the expensive material he fills out well.
you’ve seen him around, most likely from afar. his face is familiar, and you’re sure that he’s had to have at least another one of these balls considering the fact that he’s given up mixing with the ton.
he surely has to note that what you’re wearing is on par with what the other servants and maids are, but he doesn't choose to comment.
“i’ve started a little bet with myself,” he says, his voice deep and gruff. you take a second to look him over thoroughly, noting the way his hair is messy and looks undone, black as the night. his eyes shimmer green, but turn more olive toned in the light, and he has a smile exudes an air of confidence, “would you like you partake in it?”
you smile, looking at him from the side.
“i thought they taught you better manners than to introduce yourself with a bet when you first meet a lady.”
he chuckles, shrugging his shoulders as his eyes glint.
“thought i already told you my name?” he’s smooth with it, and you’re not used to this.
you don’t say anything for a second, your chest moving as you take in a necessary gulp of air. you normally try not to think too much in gojo’s flirtatious personality, because he seems to be like that with everybody he’s ever met. but this is new.
“see,” he leans in, your arms touching as you both lean a bit over the railing, and he’s lower this voice to a whisper so that nobody else can hear, “i bet that our little prince is setting his eyes on the young lady in the red dress, but i also bet that he may be mulling over the one in the green shawl.” his fingers slyly point to the two of them, and you crane your neck a bit, standing on your toes as you try to get a better look. the man, toji, isn’t incorrect in his observations. gojo has danced with miss corden almost three times at this point, and another two with miss ahura, but you remember that he only favored these two more because they tended not to step on his shoes when dancing. you suppress your smile, choosing to indulge him in his little bet.
“i say miss ahura has a better chance,” you say and he watches as gojo twirls her around on the dance floor, “her family is far more affluent and i hear that she has riches beyond comprehension in persia.”
“are you saying our prince is covetous? the sacrilege,” his voice is full of mirth and you hide your little giggle behind a gloved hand, your elbows lightly hitting his as you keep your eyes trained down below.
the waltz comes to an end, the violinists lifting their instrument off from their shoulders as they prepare for the next piece, the ladies and gentlemens who had just danced bowing to each other as they separate.
you watch for gojo, watch as he moves to the end of the floor, accepting the drink one of his companions had waiting for him as he delves into conversation. he takes a sip, nodding along to whatever it is that is being muttered in his ear.
he looks up for a second, his eyes scanning around for something. he’s careful not to attract attention to this fact, but you see him scan the entire room, the different floors, his eyes squinting as he tries to narrow his vision. he looks around for a couple more seconds, looking and looking until he finds you.
a brief and quick smile takes over his face when he finally sees your face, your own lips tugging upwards as you give him a small wave. his eyes fall to the man besides you, his smile falling as well, and toji grunts.
“are you familiar with the prince?” he asks, obviously catching this, and you gnaw on your lips in apprehension, confusion.
“barely,” you mutter, not giving him too many details, watching as gojo looks away just as quickly, as if he had never seen you and you swallow thickly, wondering what brought on his sudden change in emotions.
or why he even looked for you in the first place.
“barely doesn’t warrant the prince looking for you,” toji whispers in your ear, “‘think you know him a little better than you give yourself credit for.”
—
after the ball, gojo didn’t speak much to you when the two of you were back in his chambers.
he tended to get tired out by the end of balls, but you found yourself lonely without the endless stories he came to you with, the way he’d relive some of the events just as he was going to bed so that he wouldn’t forget them in the morning.
but he was strangely quiet right now, didn’t say anything as you helped him shrug off his coat, hanging it up in his closet as you bite your cheek, feeling some odd tension radiate off of him, something you’ve never felt before.
“did you enjoy the ball?” you asked, standing near his bed as he shuffles around, kicking off his boots as he scrunches his nose in distaste.
“it was like any other,” he says plainly, yanking his tie off as you grab it from his wordlessly, folding it up so that it wouldn’t crease.
“did you like dancing with miss ahura?” you don’t know what’s going on, why he seems so rigid, “she looked beautiful, did she not?”
he shrugs passively, not answering as he rummages around his drawers, dropping down his cufflinks in a pile with the rest of his gold ones, not knowing that a single pair of them would most likely feed you for a year.
“would you like a midnight snack? i saved some truffles for you,” you dig into your pockets, bringing some out that you had snagged from the desserts table and had wrapped in a napkin, something akin to what he used to bring you all those years ago, waiting eagerly all night to show him, “these even have some gold on them, i’ve never seen-”
“i have chefs at my disposal,” he mutters as he unbuttons his shirt, “i don’t need truffles covered in lint.”
your smile fell at the bite in his voice, the way it seemed to grip it’s claws around your lungs, squeezing the air out of them. you silently pocket the napkin.
“of course…i apologize,” there's a bitter taste in the back of your throat, catching his eyes momentarily. you see the way they shift, how his mouth parts open, and then he shuts them again.
you can feel his stare as you shove your other hand back into your other dress pocket, this one with a miniature tart that you had so carefully tried to preserve throughout the evening from breaking, and feel a heavy weight settle on your chest.
“i have your bath ready,” you point to the bathroom, ducking your head down as you bow, “i will see you in the morning, your highness.”
you left quickly, feeling foolish as you trekked down the stairs to your own room, feeling your heart slow down as you shut your door, shedding off the wretched costume that had you feeling as if you were something worthwhile for once.
—-
for a while after that night, the two of you share brief conversations, sentences kept to a minimum as you bring back the cordiality that you had begun to shed off for a while. if he noticed it, he didn’t comment on it. after some days passed, and days turned into a week and a half, he barely even looked at you, and you took it as a sign that he had tired out of the small friendship and was looking elsewhere for momentary entertainment.
tonight, you found yourself standing in the corner of his office, eyes darting around as you waited in heavy silence as his quill scratched on the parchment beneath him, dipping it in ink every now and then as he mumbled unintelligible words under his breath.
his head rests in his hands, throwing his head back in frustration at whatever it is the document is telling him.
his head falls down, his eyes slowly opening as he looks up at you.
your brow raised slightly in questioning.
“i need you,” he says, eyes widening slightly at his slip up, “i-i need your help.” he clears his throat harshly.
he ushers to the papers in front of him, and you inhale deeply, making your way from the corner that you’ve hidden yourself in as you cross the room, your steps careful as you round to his table, standing at the edge as you stay quiet.
“here,” he bites out, “come here.” he needs you next to him, and you have to control the urge to roll your eyes as you move, shuffling so that you were standing near his chair, looking down at the piece of paper that he’s been mulling over for the better half of an hour.
you look at it, mouth parting open as your brows scrunch up as you focus, trying to ignore the way his eyes were burning into the side of your face.
“i don’t understand, your highness,” you finally say, leaning away from him, “what am i supposed to be looking at?”
he pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling as he sets the paper down, leaning back in the chair.
“it’s a letter of inheritance, who gets what after the father dies,” he explains, “but the signatures don’t match up. does it seem forged to you?”
you look again, looking at the two signatures laid next to each other, the way the letters curved, which ones swooped, tilting your head, trying to see it from a different angle. the more you looked at it, the more disingenuous the signatures seemed.
“they might be,” you briefly look at him, his stare burning if you look too long, “but i’m not sure, your highness.”
his face hardens for a second, and you move away, going back to the end of the table as you bow, taking your leave to the back of the room until he speaks again. you pause, looking over your shoulder to him.
“care to look again? i have a feeling that you have a knack for schemes.” his lips are pulled back in a smile that doesn't meet his eyes, miles away from the usual smile you see from him, and if not for the benign expression, his words surely made you stumble.
“excuse me?” you bite back quickly, your nose flaring as he scoffs, shaking his head as if he expected this reaction.
“you’re shameless with it, aren’t you?” he’s alluding to something, and it’s driving you crazy. all the stares you’ve shared this past week, the silent exchange of aggravated words that grow only in size the more the two of you simmer. even when you were young, your arguments were resolved quickly.
“with what?” you snap, the accusations he’s throwing at you with no reasoning swarming your mind, clouding your judgment, your way of carrying yourself as you throw all etiquette out the window.
“i can only wonder what ploys fushiguro played out for you, but i wonder even more which ones tempted you the most?”
your tongue is heavy in your mouth, and you make a sound in the back of your throat, one of shock, one of clear surprise. was all of his unspoken anger because of…him? the man you met during the ball? surely it can’t be.
you gape, the candle flickering away in the same beats your heart was going at, illuminating his stone cold face as he stands up from his chair, moving slowly to where you were. you try to stand tall, but you can’t match up to his height.
“you,” your jaw clenches, eyes searching his to see if he was joking, “you’ve been treating me like i’m, i’m,” you stutter, your chest constricting, “the shit you wipe off your shoe because you think i’m scheming with s-some man i met for the first time?”
his expression flickers for a second, as if suddenly realizing what he was saying.
“as if you don’t know who he is,” he collects himself, a sneer making its way on his face, “as if you don’t know what they’ve done to us-”
“i don’t!” you cut him off, a shocked laugh escaping your lips, “i don’t know who he is! i just thought he was being friendly!”
gojo pauses, his eyes searching yours for any traces of lies
“come on,” he scoffs, “you know how the zenin family-”
“who, who’s the zenin family?” you exclaim, watching in real time as the facade and things he’s been convincing himself of aren’t true.
“the,” he stutters, his face scrunching up in confusion, “the zenin…? how do you not know…?”
“because i’m a maid!” you shout, not caring if others behind the door could hear you yelling at their prince, “because i’ve spent my entire life working here! i keep my head down and i do what i’m told, a-and i keep to myself. forgive me for not knowing about your royal affairs, your highness!”
he’s rendered silent, lips pulled into a thin line.
“but you only care about yourself, right? the sacred prince who had everything given to him his entire life,” you continue, feeling your own pent up frustrations spewing out. you know that you’re going to lose everything after this anyways, so you don’t care about the repercussions now. you can’t bring it in yourself to care.
“you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with some unidentifiable emotion as you roll your eyes.
“i don’t? tell me, do you even remember me?” you hate that you’re losing touch of sensibility and making it personal, personal about your own feelings and how your mind can’t wrap around the fact that he simply forgot who you were or how much he affected you, “or are your cares about the people who work for you so fleeting that you barely know our names? is my replacement coming in a week, two weeks?”
“stop,” he bites out, his eyes dark, a storming brewing on the endless sea they offer, “you don’t know-”
“what i’m taking about…right?” you finish for him, “because i’m just the simple maid who you took in as your toy because you wanted to poke and prod around at her and see if she cries again? see if you could fix something for once-”
“stop,” his voice is different, and your hairs stand up because it’s not his. it’s lower in pitch, deep, commanding. you shut your mouth, fingers flying upwards, but it’s too late, you’ve said too much, and there’s no going back. this is it, you’ve finally sealed your fate.
his head falls down for a second, licking his lips as he looks at you with a look that freezes your blood. it’s not like him, and you know that this was it.
“get out,” he mutters.
“i…” you take a step back.
“get out,” his voice is thick, nostrils flaring, cheeks red with underlying emotions that are threatening to leave, “get out and never come back.”
your eyes shine with tears, tears that you refuse to shed, tears that you don’t know are for what, but you nod once, your lips trembling as you bow down to him, your last shred of respect, and turn for the door, shutting it as you run down the corridor, run for the only thing you think can save you in the moment, and don’t look back.
—
the wind is biting and unforgiving on your skin as you ride through the night.
you lean forward on the horse, hoping it can go faster as it sprints through the open field, your eyes watering as you shout for it to go.
you packed what you could, wrote your note to lydia and escaped through the stables, glad to know that louis was guarding the horses tonight, glad to know that he often drank himself to sleep.
you knew you were in too deep. you had crossed the crown prince, your ending surely wasn’t going to be good. and so call it what you will, cowardice, fear, survival, or just something you seem to have down to your roots, but you fled. you took a horse and went as far as you could, looking over your shoulder every other minute to see if anybody was running after you.
they would at some time realize that one of their horses was missing, as well as the prince's personal maid, and easily connect the dots.
it was late, and you were glad that the night was offering you the darkness and protection you needed. you could hear thunder rumbling a distance away, the clouds looking even more irate than they usually do. rain, you noted, even more protection that you desperately needed.
“please,” you plead, with what you don’t know, “please, hurry.”
the horse, as if understanding you, seems to pick up its pace, going even faster than before. your cheeks are freezing, your hands going numb from both the cold but from holding onto the reins with all your might, and the sad excuse of a cloak you have on for both warmth and concealing your face, does nothing for its intended purposes. it’s flimsy and the hood is swept by the wind, and you sniffle, tears wetting your chin as you try to compose yourself for just a bit more.
you feel an ounce of joy when you see the yellow twinge of lights from the valley below, the small town that you once used to live in coming more into focus, and feel some sense of happiness. you would camp there for the night and leave at dawn, going east, north, anywhere away from here.
or at least that was your plan until you hear the thump of hooves from behind you.
your heart drops, head whipping around as you see another horse coming in from behind you. you can’t see the rider, but you suspect more are behind them. they’re shouting something, but with the wind roaring in your ears you can’t hear anything. you turn around, whipping the reins again, leaning even more forward as let out a sound of desperation.
it’s a race to survive now, something that you won't do if you lose it, and you feel your body turning into ice, everything is going too fast.
the rider behind you is gaining speed, and you know it’s only a matter of time before they finally catch up to you. in a split moment you try to evade them, twisting the reins of your horse in one direction, not seeing the bush that was in front of you.
in another moment you’re up in the air, losing all of your feelings as you're thrown down with a harsh thud.
in the next moment, things going to black, your lids flickering as you try to stay awake, one of the last things you see being the blurry face of the rider,
and those eyes that you think about every night.
—
the next time you open your eyes it’s to a bright light.
you ground, rubbing at your face as your mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton, your head ringing as you attempt to sit up, only to feel strong hands gently pushing you down.
there’s a voice, somebody speaking, but it’s all mushy in your brain, words melting together as you shake your head, trying to get the blinding light away from you. the voice grows a little bit closer, a little more clearer, and after a couple of seconds you’re able to make out what the person is saying.
“please rest, i’ll get the doctor,” the voice is familiar, and you reach out with slow fingers, trying to grab onto something, anything.
“n-no,” you murmur, your voice slurring, “no doctor.”
“you need a doctor,” the voice says firmly, “wait here.”
“no,” you say again, a little stronger, and the person stops moving, “s-stay…please,”
your fingers reach out, trying to latch onto a piece of their clothing, and instead find their hand. it’s warm, soft, and it quickly closes around your cold one, trying to warm it up.
you know this hand, know this voice.
“i’m sorry,” you mutter, and wonder if your voice is even something that can be heard by the human ear with the way it sounds foreign even to you, “i’m, i’m sorry about everything. about what i said.”
his hold on your hand grows tighter, his thumb moving up and down on the back of it in a soothing back as his other hands run across your forehead.
“no,” he simply says, “you don’t-”
“but i said-”
“everything that should’ve been said,” gojo finishes quickly, “but i need to go get you a doctor, check if you don’t have a concussion or worse. he checked for…other things,” he swallows thickly, not able to say what terrible words the town physician told him when they brought you into the small inn, the words that turned his skin transparent and nearly ripped the heart right out his chest, “see if you’re doing okay.”
“i don’t have a concussion,” you tell him him, finally able to blink without shooting lights and on your final squint you finally see him, sitting right next to you, his hair disheveled and face clammy, “i’ve had concussions and this isn’t a concussion.”
his brows furrow but you wave it off, sitting up so that you could rest on the head board behind you, not letting go of his hands. you’re not even sure he would let you if you wanted to, with the way he was grasping on as if his life depended on it.
you groggily rub at your face, glad that the thumping in your head is dying down, gracefully accepting the glass of water he offers you. you chug it down, feeling the droplets wet the chemise you’re wearing, but can’t find it in you to care.
you look around the room, wondering if you might actually have a concussion because you’ve never been here before, and it certainly doesn’t look like it’s part of the palace.
“we’re at an inn,” he explains as if reading your mind, “it’s the closest place i could find.”
you nod wordlessly, looking away from him because it feels raw, the emotions, the events from before, everything.
he senses your disposition and his hold on your hand loosens for a brief, flickering second. you hate the feeling.
“i shouldn’t have assumed,” he whispers, your eyes still focused on the patterns on the bed sheet, not knowing what would happen if you looked at him, “i shouldn’t have thought any of it. i just saw you and saw him and…it got in my head. it got a hold of me and for that, i’m sorry.”
your fingers curl into his hand.
“but, i, um,” he stammered, stuttering the way he used to when he was a little boy, something they surely worked on seeing how it rarely came out anymore, “i wanted you to know that i do remember.”
your head snaps up, the bed creaking at your sudden movement, your mouth slightly open in surprise.
“what?” your question is breathless, akin to the boyish, nervous, and small smile on his face. just like he used to smile when you chased him up a tree, telling him to get down or else you’d be in big trouble as if he were your responsibility.
“you used to wear a uniform that was so huge, you’d trip whenever you’d walk. you loved the fruit pies i’d bring, but you hated the ones with the pine nuts. you’d always call me ‘toru because you couldn’t say your s’s properly and you made me a doll with some fabric you found around the rooms.”
his thumb rubs on your pulse point, a melancholy smile on his face.
“you named him fru-fru,” your voice is barely above a murmur, “and you kept him on your-”
“nightstand,” he nods, “but i had to move him to my study because he was getting too fragile, i couldn’t move him too much.”
you wipe at your cheeks, sniffing as you feel a strange warmth fill your chest, filling an emptiness you didn’t know was there. his eyes shimmer, wet with tears threatening to spill, and for the first time since you met him that night, you feel like you’ve never been closer to somebody than you are now, souls interlinked together, twisting and turned as they grew with time.
all the emotions you’ve been latching onto or forcing down are coming up at once and you feel overwhelmed, not knowing how to handle them together.
“why…why did you act like you didn't know me?” you finally ask, wiping at your chin with the palm of your hand as you sniffle, “why are you telling me all this now?”
“because all this time i thought you had grown to hate me,” he mutters, “you just stopped speaking to me one day and no matter what i tried to do you never responded. i sent you letters and i visited your quarters and i even went to that scary lady,” you laugh wetly, knowing that he was referring to your old head-maid, the one that terrified him as a kid, “but they all acted as if you had forgotten about me. at some point i convinced myself that you left but when i saw you running across that field i just knew, i knew it was you.”
you shake your head, the tears coming on even harder. all those years when you had to act passive, act as if you didn't know him just so that you wouldn’t lose or jeopardize your position or life, pretending that the one friend that made your days that much brighter was a passing thought to you.
he leans in a bit, wiping at your cheeks gently with his thumb as you lean into his hand, watching as you quickly wipes at his own reddened cheeks, brows scrunching up together as you whimper.
“they f-found out,” you choke, “about us. and they knew who i w-was and who my mom was and they told me to never speak to you again,” your words come out broken, “and i left little piece of my clothes outside your door at night, ones with drawings or things i thought you’d know but every morning they would be gone. i,” you cry, your voice sputtering as you crawl closer to him, into his open arms, “i could never forget you,” your voice cracks, muffled by his chest, “you were the only f-friend i had,” he pulls you in tighter, his arms around you encaging you in a warmth that you so desperately needed. his chin rests atop your head, and you can see the way he struggles to get his own breaths out, the tears that he struggles to hide.
“don’t cry,” he pleads, begs, holding onto the last scrap of composure he had left, hating hearing your cries or seeing your tears, “please, please don’t cry,” he pulls himself away from you slightly to look at your face, to dry your cheeks as you hiccup, “you’re killing me tonight, you know that right?”
you try to laugh though it comes off as a snort, savoring the way his fingers trace your face, your cheeks, your jaw, your nose, the corners of your eyes, trying to savor every bit of you as if they’ve been starved for an eternity.
“tried to run after you after what i said…” he can’t find it in himself to repeat his wretched words, “only to find you gone. you have no idea how much of a mad man i was, ordering everybody to turn each stone inside out until they found you. then that stupid stable boy kept yelling out that a horse was gone and i thought surely you wouldn’t be foolish enough to run away, ‘specially not when a storm was coming but…”
“i ran away when a storm was coming,” you finish for him with a quiet chuckle, feeling your body heating up at the way he broke into an instant smile when he heard the sound. if only you knew the things he’d do to hear it again, to see you happy would be his three wishes if he was ever asked.
“and you were going fast,” he traces your cheekbone, his words filling the large and empty room, “so, so fast. and when you fell?” he takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his chest, setting it on his heart as you feel it thumping quickly underneath your palm, “was about to take you to the doctor and tell him to give you this,” his fingers curl above yours, his forehead resting on yours, your noses breaths away from each other, “it didn’t matter to me anymore, it doesn’t work right without you.”
you feel lightheaded like you need him more than you need oxygen, your eyes falling onto his lips, not knowing that he was mirroring your exact same motions, the two of you working in tandem like a machine and its little bolts, not working without the other.
“would it perhaps be because you can’t live without the chocolates i sneak in for you?” you try to joke but it falls flat in your head, but he still huffs out a laugh, nose nudging yours as you lean in impossibly closer.
“perhaps,” he answers, his face lit by the single candle behind the two of you, “but it could also perhaps be because i love you so fucking much.”
and you whine, tired of waiting, moving the single bit you needed to connect your lips together and fall forward on his lap, your hands shooting up to his shoulders to use as much needed stability.
he groans, a sound from the back of his throat, from deep within him, his hands moving up to hold onto your waist as you move into him, kissing him with such fervor that you felt like you were going to die without feeling his lips on you.
it was so messy, the way your teeth clash against and noses bumped against each other, but it was what you so desperately needed. he was moving fast, his lips kissing against the corners of your mouth, down you chin as they found your neck, his smile growing as you throw your head back, fingering digging into his white strands as you tried to pull him in even closer.
you let out breathless sounds, sounds that you never knew you could make, but it seems to spur him on, planting wet and sloppy kisses on the column of your neck as she sucked, marking you up so that later people would know that you were his and his alone.
“gojo, i,” your eyes screw shut at the feeling of him, “feels so good,” you say breathlessly, moving closer up on his lap, feeling his hands tug at the flimsy chemise you have on, fingers slowly tugging it down, giving you time to push him off if you wanted to.
he looks up at you, his eyes needy, desperate, just as yours, and you nod, needing him to not stop.
he continues, pulling it down so that you're bare before him, nipples pebbling in the cold air as you go to cover up, suddenly realizing just what is happening, feeling shy, never like this in front of anyone before.
“we can stop,” he muttered against your lips, pressing a small peck to them, “we don’t have to do this now, we have all the time in the world,” he teases as he tugs your chemise up but you grab his wrist, stopping him as you shake your head.
“no,” you tug it down a little bit, “i’ve just,” you take in a deep breath, “just never done this before.”
he chuckles, eyes flashing darkly for just a quick second as he kisses along your jaw, leaving your skin shining in the limited light.
“good,” he murmurs, “‘cause i think i’d have to exercise my grandfather's way of handling people if somebody else saw you like this.” you laugh shortly, tugging sharply on some of his hairs as he looks up at you, eyes full of devotion that you’ve only dreamed about.
“beheading people for just seeing my tits?” you’re more crass than he is in some places, a sign of the different language you’ve heard growing up in the circumstances you’ve had, but he doesn’t care, likes it in fact.
“i’d burn down villages if anyone saw these,” he cups them in his hands, thumb flickering over your nipples as you suddenly arch into him, head falling back, “you’re so perfect,” he whispers into your skin, his lips hovering on the slope of your breasts as he takes time to admire your chest, “so beautiful,” you would’ve smacked him if not for the way he took one in his mouth, leaving you no time to think of anything else as a moan escapes your lips, the first of its kind.
“damn you gojo,” you moan, hearing his chuckle vibrate through your tits as his sucks on your nipple, tugging it with your teeth as you feel your stomach heat up, growing more and more wet as you buck up on his thigh, “you t-talk too much,” you shudder, eyes rolling back when he presses his flat tongue on your areola, his other hand massaging your other tit until he switches, leaving it glistening his his spit.
“yeah? then where do you want this mouth, hm?” he looks up at you with his eager eyes, just wanting to please you, and you feel like you’re becoming an addict, your cunt growing more and more wet as riding his thigh proves to not satiate the hunger.
“d-down,” you can’t think clearly, “please, need you so bad.”
“where?” he plays with you, pressing his hand against your stomach, “here?”
you shake your head, feeling needy and not in the mood to play around, not knowing where your sudden surge in confidence was coming from as you grab his wrist, leading it down to your cunt as you hide your face in his neck, whining.
“h-here, ‘toru, need you here,” he throws his head back, a sound coming from somewhere in his chest as his name falls from your glossy with spit lips, tugging the ends of your chemise up to your stomach as he stares at your bare pussy.
he pushes you back gently to lie on the bed, nestling between your legs as he savors the sight.
you cover your face with your hands, hearing him laugh at your expense, keeping your thighs spread wide open with his hands as he presses tantalizing kisses on the insides of them, each one closer and closer to the unbearable heat.
“wait,” you mutter, confused as to what he was doing, watching the way he snapped up, worried eyes finding your confused ones, following your stare down to his growing bulge.
“i thought…?” all the stories lydia would tell you didn’t start this way, usually beginning his the man pulling his dick out and being done in a couple of minutes, “do you not…?”
satoru breathes easy, laughing as he shakes his head, resting on his haunches as his palm rubs against your soft thighs. he looks so pretty like this, with his hair going haywire, some of it in his face, some of it messily pushed back. there’s a pink flush to hit face, his lips plump and shinning with spit.
“trust me, you have no idea how bad i want to feel you,” his eyes are so dark that you wonder if they’re even blue, “but i’m not going to do it in your condition. i don’t want to hurt you any more-”
“but,” you whine but he shakes his head, pinching your soft skin as you wince, hitting him with your knee as he rolls his eyes.
“i promise you’re going to like this,” he rubs softly against where he pinched you, smoothing the skin over, “do you trust me?”
“yes,” you mutter, watching as he breaks into a smile, “better not disappoint me though.”
“fuck, you’re such a minx,” he groans, spreading your lips open with his pointer finger, his dick aching at the sight of the string of arousal that connects them together, at the clear shine and wetness from just how much you needed him, “you’re actually going to be the death of me.”
“then hurry u-up ‘toru,” you say, “don’t die on me now,” your fingers were cutely curling in his hair, and he’d be an insane lunatic if he made you beg any more than you have, diving in as if you were actually his last meal before he died.
your mouth falls open in a silent scream, the feeling unlike anything. he sucked on your clit, moving up and down from your cunt, wanting to taste your saccharine wetness on his tongue to back up. he was so messy, so loud, and you felt like you were going to overheat, felt like everything was fogging your vision.
it felt so good. too good. his tongue dived in and out of you in a way that had you gripping his hand and the sheets under you, your leg around around his shoulders as you bucked into his open mouth, your wetness smearing all of his lips and chin as he ate you like a man starved for years.
“o-oh my god,” you mewl out, eyes rolling back as you felt one of his long, swift fingers slowly pushing into you, his lips still sucking on your clit as you felt like you were actually entering heaven.
“not god,” his voice is muffled, “just ‘toru.” you would have laughed if you could, your smile instantly dropping when his finger pumps in and out.
your toes curl, leg around his shoulder pulling him in closer if that was even possible. if he were to die right now he’d had the giddiest smile on his face, happy to have you dancing around on his tongue.
everything about this was shameless and you wondered if all your good deeds were finally catching up to you.
you don’t even care if the people sleeping next to you, above you, under you, or even at this inn could hear you, because when he put in his middle finger you screamed, back arching off the bed.
“so good, fuck, ‘toru, i,” you could even form a complete sentence, “feel so good,”
“yeah?” you nod feverishly, “fuck, you taste amazing, love this so much, love you so much,” he’s babbling with his words too, his nose sometimes accidentally rubbing against your clit, bringing you all the much more pleasure.
sometimes when you look down to see him you moan helplessly, your chest heaving at the way he’d rut mindlessly into the bed, his dick hard and swollen and achy from eating you out, about the burst from just your scent alone.
your stomach tightens and you feel an unfamiliar thing deep in the pit of your body, growing taut with each swipe, each like, each kiss he would give you. it made your moans more breathy, your words less understandable, and you felt like you were slowly going to go insane, losing all sense of reality.
“‘toru, i, i don’t know,” you’re sputtering, nails raking into his hair, your free hand grabbing onto your tits, the bed sheet, his shoulders, anything to help you ground you back down to earth, “i feel, f-fuck, oh my god, i,”
“you got this sweetheart,” he encouraged you, his words honeyed, “come on, let go for me, you can do it,” his thumb which had found its way to your clit was speeding up, his tongue and fingers taking turns as they pounded into you.
you felt that rope getting together and tiger, about to snap at any moment as you whined, tears escaping from the corners of your eyes as your lips huffed out puffs of air.
“i, f-fuck, i’m ‘gonna, oh…” you whine out loud, the line snapping, your orgasm crashing through you as your mouth falls slack.
it was mind numbing, the way everything went white, the way you tightened around his fingers which were slowing down. you creamed around him, leaving his skin shiny with your release, your pussy still pulsing seconds after as you try to catch your breath, still seeing white behind your lids as your tits move up and down with each haggard breath.
he presses on last kiss to your fluttering clit, hands massaging your quivering thighs as you slowly yet surely come back down to reality, each second passing bringing you back down with him.
“good?” he teases, his smile coy as you cover your eyes with one arm, lightly pushing him with the other.
“fine,” you mutter, peeking over to see him positively glowing, a stupidly large smile on his face when he sees you finally looking at him, pressing the fattest kiss to your lips as you squeal, eyes fluttering for a second as you taste yourself on him, parting your lips mindlessly to let his tongue slither in.
you whined against his lips, fingers curling around the collar of his open tunic, pulling him closer to your naked body, feeling your tits press up against his chest, everything so perfect that you wondered if you were dreaming.
“wait,” he muttered, pulling away from you, a string of spit connecting your lips together as you sit uop a little, you brows scrunched in confusion as you watch him sit up from the bed, walking over to the vanity as he rumages around the drawers for something.
he pulls out a small cloth, holding it up in victory as he grins, walking over to your nightstand as he wets it with soem water, crawling back into bed as he settles back in the middle of your thighs, gently pulling them apart as he starts cleaning you.
it’s all so intimate and so loving. you feel like melting watching his focused gaze, careful to be soft and slow, knowing that you’re a little stretched out, and pat it as best he could, cleaning around your thighs as well, throwing the cloth to the side as he climbs back up to you, pressing a loving kiss to your temple.
you shrug the rest of the chemise off, riddled with your essence and sweat, and pull the covers up, feeling the sudden chill now that satoru’s no longer eating you out like both your lives depended on it, and a silence falls over the room.
“is this a bad time to tell you about my horse laundering scheme with fushiguro?” you ask, your eyes shining mischievously as satoru whines, hiding his face in your chest as he pulls you closer to his body.
“you’re so evil,” he says against your skin.
you laugh, the sound going straight to his heart, his smile hidden.
but you fall silent and when you don’t speak he looks up, his eyes searching yours.
“what now?” you whisper, your fingers carding through his hair, feeling its softness, “i don’t…” you trail off, biting your lip as every other emotion that you had tucked away comes crawling back.
his finger finds its way to the middle of your browning, easing the crease that was forming.
“now you become my wife…if you would like to, of course…”
you search his eyes to see if he’s joking, but you only see honest sincerity in that sea of blue, his cheeks pink as he blushed.
“really?” you can barely say it without a giddy smile making its way on your face, one that he glows brightly at. if only he could bottle it, save it for when the universe collapsed and was in need of light.
“really,” he promises, holding you tightly to him, not wanting to ever let you go again, needing you next to him so that he could make sure his heart was working, to make sure that he was actually alive and that this wasn’t all a dream.
“i’ve loved you since the moment i saw you, ‘toru,” you whisper, nodding off to sleep as a yawn escapes your mouth.
“is that because i used to try to swoon you with food?” he whispers, his drowsy eyes finding yours as you sleepily giggle, kissing the tip of his nose as you curl into his heat, a smile on your face when you say the last words before you finally head off into sleep.
“perhaps.”
#gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojo x you#gojo x you smut#gojo smut#satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader smut#gojo x reader angst#gojo angst#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru#gojo x reader fluff
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whatever you want, my angel | xu minghao
SYNOPSIS. in which your boyfriend calls you a term of endearment from his native tongue.
PAIRING. xu minghao x gn!reader
GENRE. fluff, a little bit of humour, established relationship
WARNINGS. a singular kiss
WORD COUNT. 845
requested by anon: Hey congratulations 🎉 on 2k! Hope you grow more (Ik you will!)! Fighting! 💓I wanted to request Minghao + #32 from List 1 (Fluff Dialogue Prompts)💖💖💖
- #32: "Did you just call me (pet name)?”
notes: hao looks so angelic in those photos i found omg going crazy. anyway, thank u sm lovely i hope u enjoy this 🥹🫶 short but cute hehe. this was the first thing ive written in 2 weeks sorry 😭😭
join the 2k celebration!
"Just a few more minutes, tiánxīn."
You never thought you could spin your head around as fast as now, eyes locking on your boyfriend casually stirring a spoon in a pot on the stove, low hums escaping his lips as if he was minding his own business.
Though as you get yourself to squint your eyes, you notice the extremely subtle curve that he has to his lips while the steam swirls around his head.
"Repeat that."
"Hm?" Minghao perks his head back up, eyelashes batting together innocently. "Did I say something?"
You place a hand at your hip, cocking your head to the side as you point a finger accusingly at him. "That. That nickname. Did you... did you just call me tyenshan?"
Minghao nearly bursts into a chuckle at your mushy pronunciation, and you feel your face growing red from the slight embarrassment. He bites his bottom lip, trying to stifle his amusement, and reaches over for the lid to cover over the pot before turning to face you with a small smirk.
"Tiánxīn."
You blink at him, still a bit puzzled. "Tyanshin? Tyen..."
Minghao just quietly watches as you struggle to grapple with the unfamiliar term. There's a hint of teasing in his eyes, but also a warmth that makes your heart skip a beat. He wipes his hands on a towel before stepping up to you, letting an arm sneakily wrap around your waist to pull you towards him.
The sudden closeness steals your breath for a moment. Minghao's arm feels warm and secure around your waist, and you can smell the faint scent of spices clinging to him from his cooking. Yet his gaze at you is filled with nothing but affection, even under the dim lighting of the kitchen light, and you can't help but melt into his touch.
"Sweetheart," he mutters casually. "That's what it means."
Your eyes grow wide momentarily, as if taking in the weight of the singular term of endearment. It's such a simple word, yet the way he says it𑁋with such tenderness and a hint of playfulness𑁋sends a warmth radiating through you.
You feel your fingers knead lightly at the fabric of his shirt at his side, and a curl passes through your lips as you get yourself to lock gazes with him.
"Can you say it again?" You ask again, a teasing tone to your voice.
MInghao just chuckles. "Tiánxīn𑁋"
He's cut off when he feels your lips softly press against his. The contact is all too brief, and nearly has him chasing after your mouth when you part away from him. There's a mischievous look blanketed to your features, but he finds himself still caught in a daze at whatever boldness you just unleashed.
"I like the sound of it," You say wistfully. "Tell me another one."
Minghao lifts a brow. He has no idea what you're trying to plot (if anything), but he complies nonetheless.
"Wǒ de tiānshǐ," he murmurs, voice soft yet confident as he gazes into your eyes. "My angel."
Your heart seems to do a tumble and a flip simultaneously in your chest, and grasping onto the urge to teasingly rebuttal seems to dissipate away right under his eyes and his cute ass smile. You can feel your feet practically melt into the floor below, and you resist the need bury your face into his shoulder out of pure, giddy shyness.
"Oh," You mumble bashfully, heat crawling up your neck and to the tips of your ears. "Hao..."
"Ah, and another one," he jests, and you perk up once more. "Bèndàn."
"Bèndàn?" You repeat right after him, before letting out a feigned gasp. "Wait, dàn? Aren't you literally calling me an egg?"
"Mhm," Minghao answers charmingly. "My beautiful, silly little egg."
An airy scoff escapes your lips, the tension dissipating into hearty laughter bouncing off the walls as you swat playfully at his chest with a hand, making Minghao bring his arms up to shield away from your playful attacks.
"Alright, alright," he utters out between breaths as he steps his way back to the stove. "I'm sorry, you know I don't mean it."
All you do is roll your eyes before placing yourself directly behind him and letting your arms wrap around his waist. You nuzzle your cheek against his back, closing your eyes for a few moments to relish the comfort of his warmth coursing through you, a few contented sighs leaving your mouth. You could probably stay in this position for hours and not get tired of it; his presence enough seems to soften away whatever worries you had throughout the day.
"Call me that more often."
Minghao just grins. "What? Bèndàn?"
"I𑁋No!" You lightly flick him with your finger. "Just... more of those other ones, please?"
Minghao lets out a soft chuckle, the rumble travelling through his chest and sending shivers down your spine. He swiftly turns off the heat to the stove, then reaches down to gently squeeze your hand where it rests on his stomach.
"Of course, tiánxīn," he replies softly, affectionately. "Whatever you want, wǒ de tiānshǐ."
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you had how many kids? (141 + more)
lost post - sorry!
captain john price -
the first time price sank his cock into you. it was game over. you are probably going to end up with at least six kids running around a big piece of land in the center of the british isle. equal split between three girls and three boys. the price genes must be strong because they all look like spitting images of their father.
price loves his wife though, he just thinks you're the sweetest thing since honey. after you put the kids to bed and you're in your bedroom, your darling husband can't help but hold onto you by the hips and maybe rub up against you. your softness, so motherly. it almost makes his mouth water. he tries to convince you for baby number seven but you just tell him that there's no way that's happening. but price is a cunning man and maybe a few mind blowing orgasms will change your mind.
simon 'ghost' riley -
your daughter was an accident. it was simon's last night at home before he got deployed again. and he spent that entire night sunk into your sweet cunt. you'd find out a month into his deployment that you were pregnant. worried about telling him, you kept it to yourself. you were anxious about the news throwing him off his game and him getting hurt. he needed to come home alive.
when he came home, he made sure he treated his missus right. while the pregnancy was a bit of a shock, he made sure he made up for lost time. and while that often had you on your back. it almost meant being spoiled by your husband. your daughter was close to being the biggest the hospital had delivered. you two would be content with your daughter, who took mostly after you. but within five years she would be going around proclaiming that she was going to be a big sister!
john 'soap' mactavish -
oh johnny was a smart man. he knew what he wanted and he got it with ease. he wanted to take you back home, settle you down in a night place in edinburgh. he was thinking in the stockbridge neighbourhood, where you and him could raise your kids in peace. the first time he held you in a mating press he knew that he wanted to be the father to your (many) children. he'd take care of ya, never let the mother of his children be without. he placed a sloppy kiss on your lips, a seal of his promise. you end up with two boys, only eleven months apart (the look you got from your doctor when she found out you were pregnant so soon). they were mactavish boys that was for sure. their father's dark hair and he winning smile.
johnny does want a daughter however, he imagined she'd be a spitting image of you. while he loved his boys, there was no question about that, he thought a daughter would complete your little family. curious eyes like yours, that beautiful smile. as he kissed your neck and dug his fingers into your soft hips. maybe he could convince you in a few years to try for one.
kyle 'gaz' garrick -
kyle never thought that he would've ever been a father. when he signed up for service, he didn't expect to be done with that role well beyond when it would be suitable to be a father. so your son was an accident. he could almost pinpoint the night of his conception. he was home from abroad and the two of you spent the entire night (and the following morning) becoming requited with your bodies. you giggled when he showed off his more toned muscles and his fingers got tangled in your hair. his dark eyes felt familiar, like home, under the soft light of your bedroom. The resulting time together produced his son.
you don't end up with a big family, while you two live in a decently sized home just outside the city he is content with it just being the three of you. he'd rather be the best parent to one then worse off to more. he was a good father to his son, proud of the little baby. even when he woke you both up at all hours of the night. it was life and kyle was happy. but when your son turned five, you had something to share with kyle. you were pregnant again. he had to admit, after that, the idea of having a few more kids wasn't a bad idea.
bonus! bonus! bonus!
phillip graves -
oh phillip wants a full house. he didn't buy that nice piece of land outside of houston for show. big yard, white picket fence, in a safe neighourhood (can't have you getting hurt!). he'd be living out his all american dream. so when you ended up pregnant five months after marriage with twins, he was beyond happy. he thought your pregnant body was beautiful, even well into your second trimester he was fucking that sweet cunt of yours. telling you how good of a mama you were.
phillip thought you were the best thing since sliced bread. even when the aches and pains of pregnancy come and go, he'd making sure that his wife is good. if he can't be around, he sends his shadows to make sure that you and the kiddos are alright. so expect a big, loving all american family. you'd never thought you'd be spending your twenties caring for almost five kids!
col. alejandro vargas -
alejandro wants you safe. and you being pregnant can cause some issues. it makes you a target, so you packed up your life and headed somewhere more quiet. most information about you was redacted from public and private records. he even went as far as to change your name and identification. it was for you, for him and for the daughter you eventually had. but despite that, when alejandro returned home. he was the shadow to your daughter. she knew who her daddy was. eventually when he can get out of the snare of the military, he was home. your little place in the middle of nowhere, he promised to protect you and your little bundle.
the times he visited while you were pregnant though. he loved to run his hands up and down your swollen middle. he smiled at you, almost proud of what he did to you. while you'd in the end have only your daughter, it was a complete home. and don't worry, after your daughter's birth he is more than willing to show how much he loved his sweet wife.
rodolfo "rudy" parra -
oh rudy, sweet rudy. he couldn't help himself. the first time you fucked, or rather made love, he knew he wanted to breed that pussy of yours. he was using a condom, but he could picture himself doing it bare backed. the feeling of your slippery cunt tight around him. nothing protecting you from accidents. he'd often daydream on his off time about the three kids you had. he had even picked names out for them, but he'd get your input on it as well. after all you were the beautiful woman who was carrying them. such a good wife to him.
he left the military when you got pregnant, as did you. life became less about the violent conflicts and more about raising your son. he was a quiet baby, and rudy adored him. he also adored his beautiful wife who worked so hard to give him his son. he reminded you of that often. you do end up with those three kids within a five year gap and rudy couldn't be happier.
könig-
oh, könig. he knew that you'd be carrying a big baby. like look at him, he towered over you and could easily bench you in your third trimester. so he wasn't expecting a whole army of children. one very large boy was enough for him. the 99th percentile. but he was there the entire time, he made sure that you were taken care of. he felt safe having his larger body up against yours, protecting it. he'd rub your belly with his large hand. even if you were very pregnant, you still were small compared to him.
he loves his son, obviously. the first time he held him, he almost cried. he was a father now. he had a wife and a child, a home to call his home and a place to feel safe. he was an attentive father, he was used to being up early. so you got to sleep in while he checked in on your son. he made sure to teach him german, english and a few of the other languages he had picked up. he was going to make sure his son knew all about the world. he was a proud father!
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Hello can you write a smut about virgin joost x virgin reader? Thankss
I wrote this pretty quickly so ignore any errors but this one's for all the horny bastards out there. I see you.
Stolen Glances
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
CW: Nsfw, age gap
word count: 2.5k
(I was writing from 1st person than kept randomly switching to 2nd person when I was thinking of Joost's pov, she's a little messy sorry)
My thoughts ran wild as I chewed on the end of my pencil. I was supposed to be revising for my biology exam tomorrow, but how could I when a man as heart throbbing as Joost was sat right in front of me. My father was a well-established manager who had represented the biggest musicians of my time. He had reached out to Joost after his breakthrough single ‘Friesenjung’ and together they had boosted Joost’s international stardom to new levels. My father always had a good eye for talent. They had developed a close bond over the short time they had worked together, my father, a clever and creative man who never stifled Joost’s artistry. Ever since I was a little girl I’ve always been involved in his work, going on tour, tagging along for press and having a string of musicians over at our house constantly. But this was different. Maybe it was just hormones or whatever, a part of growing up, or maybe it was because father was particularly fond of him, or maybe it was the way he always acknowledged me. I don’t know what it was, but he made me feel things I’ve never felt before.
He sat directly in front of me, discussing marketing for his next song, a favourable topic for both Joost and my father. They had been at it for hours, going back and forth intently at our dining room table when I walked in- deciding I wanted to do my work in more ‘natural light’. Of course, I just wanted to be around Joost, his entire demeanour utterly intoxicating to me. I sat at the end of our long dining table, and with my father’s back turned to me, I couldn’t resist stealing glances at Joost every chance I got. In a daze, I admired the way his brows subconsciously furrowed a little in concentration, the way he talked so expressively with his hands. His hands. My mind gradually became clouded with thoughts of his hands roaming my body, what his hands would look like around my neck. I bit down harder on the pencil, almost touching lead. Discreetly, I crossed my legs and squeezed my thighs together, feining for any pressure down there.
Joost could feel your eyes swallowing him whole. It was nothing new to him now, you always had your beautiful doe eyes plastered to him. He had no problem with the admiration you gave him, he understood your young curiosity. He also understood he could never act on it, could never betray his manager like that. Touching his daughter in all the places she daydreamed about, taking a bit of her sweet innocence away all for himself. No. He’d stay out of your way, be kind to you in other ways, like helping with your school work (even though he was hopeless in his own high school days) and making sure you weren’t too stressed with exams by making you laugh whenever he could. You had been staring at him for quite a while now, you must’ve been particularly horny today, he thought to himself. A slight smirk nipping at the corners of his mouth. He leaned back in his chair and adjusted his pants around his crotch knowing you’ll catch it.
I nearly threw up as he moved in his chair, legs spread as he leaned back adjusting his pants. My eyes grew wide with embarrassment when I noticed Joost’s gaze flicker towards me, evident he knew the affect he had on me. In a panic I hurriedly ran to my room. Tears welled in my eyes at the thought of Joost realising how I felt about him, all he’d ever been to me was kind and now he’s going to think of me as some naive girl with a hopeless crush on him. I cried, regret and humiliation in every drop that soaked my pillow. How could I have been so careless with my feelings?
A light knock at my bedroom door had awoken me from my tear-fueled slumber. Vaguely disorientated, I searched around for my phone. The bright, white light illuminated the room: 9:15pm. “Shit” I wasn’t meant to sleep all day. Groggily, I got to my feet and shuffled over to the door, questioning who it might be.
Joost could tell you had been crying, your eyes red-rimmed and still slightly swollen. He hated seeing you like this, “oh, I’m sorry did I wake you?” his voice soft and concerned.
“Joost…no, no it’s fine...everything okay?” the back of my throat burned, and my voice was faintly raspy.
“You left your things on the table, I just thought I’d drop them off before I went to bed,” he handed me my textbook and laptop but lingered in the doorway as if he had something else to say.
“Are you okay? You’ve been in your room since lunch, tell me what’s going on,” Joost always carried a comforting energy, I felt like I could tell him anything. But not this.
“Oh yeah I was up late last night, got really tired I guess,” followed by a small awkward laugh. Joost stood tall in front of me, having to look up to talk to him filled me with dirty thoughts. He wore a white tank, plaid pyjama pants and his night prescription glasses. His hair scruffy, signalling he had already been in bed. I began questioning the intentions of Joost’s visit, did he really just want to return my things? This late at night? No matter how guilty I felt, I couldn’t shake the butterflies growing in my stomach at the tension between us.
He looked down at you, you were avoiding eye contact now, your leg bouncing nervously and your fingers tapping the door where you held it open. Oh how shy he made you, how vulnerable and yielding. He felt bad after what had happened today, he contemplated for hours in bed if he should make it up to you tonight or just let it be. But seeing you now made it an easy choice.
“You know, I really don’t mind” he almost whispered, tilting his head and stepping ever so slightly closer. I glanced up once again, confusion and anticipation coursing through me. “Mind what?” I asked through a clueless façade. He shook his head, slowly stepping forward until he was completely in the confines of my bedroom, closing the door gently behind him. Just me and him. “I see the way you look at me…I’ve seen the way you cross your legs in the process” a wild smile danced over his lips, that’s when I realised this was all wildly funny to him. The entire time I’ve been losing my fucking mind over this man- he had been totally and utterly aware and amused. I scoffed at his upfront words, “God, what are you talking about Joost. You’re crazy, what are you getting at-” I was abruptly cut off by Joost’s huge hands firmly placed on my arms, pushing me back towards my bed.
“Sit.” With your lips still slightly parted with the ghost of whatever bullshit you were carrying on about, you obeyed, looking down into your lap and fidgeting with your fingers. Your surge of false confidence had been his last straw. He was going to give you whatever you wanted, all you had to do was tell him. He traced a tender finger along your jawline, he glimpsed your eyelashes fluttering from his angle, felt your breath hitch. He lifted your chin with his index finger, Those gorgeous eyes shimmering wide with unspoken desire.
Already, I was going to absolutely crumble under Joost’s very minimal touch. His fingers barely grazing my skin were well enough to send shivers cascading down my spine. I was timid and taken aback but at the same time I craved more; I wanted to feel him everywhere. “What were you saying?” he flashed another one of his cheeky grins I loved so much. His sly comment made me laugh this time around, turning the tense atmosphere surprisingly warm. He sat down next to me, causing fleeting touches of our arms and thighs. I was enveloped in his familiar scent, calming my nerves further. He placed a hand on my thigh, his tattooed finger drawing delicate circles as he spoke. “Let me give you what you want” his voice was low and hummed a beautiful harmony. I’d imagined this scenario countless times ever since I first laid eyes on my Joost. He had no idea what I’d let him do to me.
“Just be gentle,” the sweet sound of your consent aroused Joost more than he ever could’ve imagined. He wrapped his other hand around the back of your neck and pulled you in inches from him. With his thumb he caressed your bottom lip, your breathing heavy and erratic against every move he made. “I wouldn’t be anything else for you” he uttered softly, his words dripping with reassurance before grabbing your face and placing a light kiss over your needy lips.
For me, this small kiss was a revelation. The taste of him, the feeling of a mans lips pressed against mine while his hands caressed my body, it was a rush of sensations I’ve never experienced before. He lightly pecked my lips once more before smashing hungrily into me, kissing and sucking. With his hands still cradling my face and his lips still glued to mine he urged me to lay down. I wrapped one arm around his neck, and one hand curled around his bicep beside my head as he ruthlessly attacked my lips a while longer.
Heavenly whimpers escaped both you and Joost, still being cautious not to wake anyone. Pulling away and seeing your lips so swollen and kiss-bitten made Joost so proud.
My body ached for him, “I can’t take much more of this” I whined as he left a trail of kisses down my neck. He lifted my shirt up over my head and continued down my stomach, his hands eagerly grabbing the sides of my waist and tits. He stopped at the edge of my pants, sat up and came to rest his back against the head of the bed. “Come here baby” he softly instructed me while patting the space in between his outstretched legs. He held me steady while I took up position, my close to bare back comfortably leaning into his chest, the difference in size apparent. His arms draped down to my thighs, his fingers never failing to caress every inch. Waves of comfort came with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he lowered his tongue to the nape of my neck, licking a long stripe up to my ear.
“Just relax,” he breathed, making the hairs on my neck stand straight. His hands ventured back to my pants, pulling them off with deliberate slowness, I lifted my hips to help and kicked them off the bed. “You’re so beautiful,” each word warm against my skin. His tantalizing hands resumed their careful journey as the cool air nipped against my newly exposed skin. I sucked in an audible breath as his fingers trailed up my inner thigh, “Is this okay?,” he said pausing just before my underwear to gauge my reaction. A weak nod was all I could muster up, I couldn’t resist slowly rocking my hips back and forth against him from the thrill of his touch. With my eyes closed tight I buried my face into Joost as the pad of his thumb brushed over the delicate fabric along my wet slit.
You squirmed into Joost ceaselessly, as he applied more and more pressure, unknowingly giving him a massage of his own through his pants. Your panties were becoming increasingly more damp, to the point where they clung to you leaving nothing to the imagination. Joost took this as a sign you were ready for more. You hadn’t opened your eyes since he started, your head was turned to the side, buried in his chest resulting in your neck being awfully exposed. A hot half moan escaped your lips in surprise as Joost’s mouth worked skillfully on your sensitive neck, his tongue flicking against your skin before he sucked ravenously, drawing out even more of those sweet, breathless sounds. At the same time he slipped his hand underneath the waistband of your underwear. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders and mouth wide open as he stroked your swollen clit and folds. You were involuntarily trembling and bucking against him as he fingered you to the edge. Every muscle inside your body was quivering aggressively. Deep tremors formed in your core and rippled outward. All composure was gone under his overwhelming touch.
My breaths came in heavy, uneven gasps. My chest rising and falling rapidly. I was completely at his mercy as his fingers worked me closer and closer. Every nerve in my body was aflame, my senses so desperately flooded by the delicious friction and heat of his touch. I was right there, teetering on the edge, ready to dive into the abyss of ecstasy he had created. Then his hands pulled away.
The abrupt halt left me gasping, my body trembling with unfulfilled need and anguish. My eyes flew open to meet his, “Joost, why would you stop?” He ignored my question and kissed me in compensation. “Not yet” was all he gave me. I kissed him open-mouthed and needy, my heart ponded in my chest, tension lingering in my aching body. With our lips still attached I wrapped a hand around the firm forearm draped around my waist and guided him back to down to the hot mess he had left me with. Desire still burning hotter than ever.
“You need me that bad baby,” his accent a seductive melody. “Please,” the desperation in my voice so evident- my cheeks burnt red. He gave no resistance to the tiny hand around his wrist, full of urgency and insistence. This time your eyes never left his, the intensity of longing clear to him. He found his hand back where you needed It most, your hips arched, silently begging for his touch. The moment his fingers made contact once again, a shudder ran through you, a suppressed moan released. “Don’t stop,” you commanded. You had a certain feralness to you the second time around, showing him exactly where and how you wanted him. Never letting go of the tightening grip around his wrist. Your body was pressed tightly into Joost’s, using him shamelessly like a toy. You needed him to finish what he had started, and you weren’t afraid to show him how much you wanted it. The reserved nature he knew you by was overcome by an insatiable desire. He pushed his tattooed fingers deep into your gushing entrance, frantically pumping in and out of you. “Fuckk,” tears spilled down your cheeks as you finally came.
Joost’s touch softened immediately, noticing you were overstimulated. You turned to your side still heightened with emotions and riding out the orgasm. With tender care Joost cradled you in his arms, running his hand through your hair, soothing you through the storm. “You’re okay.”
Nestled into the curve of his arms, you felt a soft blanket envelop you, and with a sigh of content you allowed yourself to surrender to sleep.
----------♡--------------------♡--------------------♡--------------------♡
(And he never even took any cloths off)
Also just realised I never actually stated she was a virgin
#joost klein fanfic#joost klein requests#joost klein x reader#joost x reader#joost klein smut#justice for joost#joost klein#europapa
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Three's A Crowd
This is a multiple part story. This chapter does not have smut. But the next one does, so stay tuned and feel free to critique. I am always open to suggestions and overall thoughts. Thank you.
Stream of the Day: Novacane 🤍
Contents: Paige And The Reader Attend Paige's After-Game Homecoming Party. Where Reader Finally Meets The Infamous Laliah A Former Flame And Now Friend Of Paige's. Which puts both the reader and paige on edge as laliah makes no mistake in letting paige know she still thinks of her.
THINGS TO KNOW: The Reader Is Black As I Am A Black Girl.
Although, Paige Takes On More Of A Switch Role? Sorry, Yall She's Not Getting Dicked Down...For Now.....
Warnings: Kissing, Fingering, Swearing, Vibrating Strap, Breeding, Degration, Praise, Groping, Possesive Reader, Suggestive Language, Possesive Paige, Jealous Reader, Jealous Paige,* I can't think of anything else right now. * COMING SOON!!!
Word Count - 1.6k MEN And MINORS DNI
☆ Salem's Thoughts ☆
This Story is purely fictional I have no personal relation to anyone mentiond. And I have no malicious or weird intent when writing. These fanfictions are purely for enjoyment and obsessed girls like me.
☆ Salem's Final Thoughts ☆
Please be mindful I'm a little rusty at writing as I haven't Written serious fanfiction. Since my wattpad days, I'm Also dyslexic so read at your own risk.
Paige’s after-game homecoming party was in full swing, the living room pulsating with laughter and music, but all the sound seemed to fade as I laid eyes on Laliah. She was standing by the kitchen counter, her dark curls tumbling over her shoulders as she leaned in close to Paige, their shared history palpable in the way they moved. As I walked closer, I could see the flicker of recognition in Paige’s eyes, a mix of nostalgia and unease. Laliah's smile was warm yet carried an edge, her gaze lingering on Paige longer than necessary, making it unmistakably clear that old flames still flickered in her heart.
Earlier That Day....
I sighed as I finally turned off the alarm set for 8:15 AM, groaning softly as I pushed myself out of bed. The morning light filtered through the curtains of our hotel room in Minnesota, where Paige was born and bred, her dream of becoming a UConn Husky now a reality. Her family had moved away a year and some change after she left for Storrs, but Minnesota still held a special place in her heart. I moved quietly around the room, gathering Paige’s bags for practice and the upcoming game.
The city was buzzing with excitement, the air thick with anticipation for the game. Paige and Laliah, once formidable teammates at Hopkins, were now playing on different teams, and their reunion on the court was the talk of the town. This trip was a homecoming of sorts, and the shared history between Paige and Laliah added an extra layer of intrigue to the event. Little did they know paige and laliah shared more than a court together.
Later that day, after the game, the real test would come at the after-game party, where I knew I’d finally meet the infamous Laliah, a former flame and now friend of Paige’s. The thought of Laliah’s presence set me on edge, knowing she still harbored feelings for Paige. With a deep breath, I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on getting everything ready for Paige’s big day.
Paige stirred in bed, her eyes fluttering open as she sensed my movement. She stretched and then sat up, her expression a mix of excitement and anxiety. "I'm nervous about the game," she admitted softly, running a hand through her hair. "It’s been a while since I’ve played in front of a hometown crowd, and with Laliah on the other team..."
I walked over to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and pressing a light kiss to her forehead. "You’ve got this, my love. You’ve trained so hard, and everyone here knows what an amazing player you are." I smiled, trying to infuse my voice with confidence. "Plus, it’s just another game. You’ve faced tougher challenges."
She smiled back, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Thanks. I just...I want to make everyone proud."
"You will," I assured her, then hesitated before continuing. "And about meeting your former teammates tonight...I’m a little nervous too. Especially about Laliah."
Paige's smile faded slightly, and she nodded. "I know. It’s complicated, but you’re the one I’m with now. She’s just a friend."
"I trust you, my love," I replied, squeezing her shoulder gently and running my fingers through her hair. "But it’s still a bit intimidating, you know? Meeting people who’ve known you for so long and finally seeing Laliah after everything..."
"We’ll get through it together," Paige said, her voice steadier now. She leaned in, giving me a soft kiss. "Just focus on the game for now. We’ll deal with the rest later."
After reassuring Paige, we finished getting ready and headed to the arena. The drive was filled with quiet moments of hand-holding and exchanged glances, a mix of excitement and underlying nerves. As we pulled up, the bustling energy of the city was evident, fans already gathering in anticipation of the game.
Inside the locker room, the atmosphere was electric, teammates greeting Paige with enthusiasm. I found a spot in the stands, the sea of familiar faces reminding me of just how significant this game was. The crowd erupted in cheers as the teams took to the court, and I spotted Laliah warming up on the other side, her presence a stark reminder of the evening to come.
As I scanned the crowd from my seat in the stands, my eyes eventually landed on Laliah. She stood out effortlessly, her presence commanding attention without even trying. Her dark curls framed her face in a cascade of effortless elegance, and her smile, though warm, held a hint of mystery. Dressed in her vibrant mustard yellow and worn leather red uniform , she exuded confidence and grace.
Beside me, Paige's family chatted excitedly, her mom waving enthusiastically at every point Paige scored. Her dad and stepmother watched intently, their pride evident in every cheer and applause. Paige's two little brothers were bouncing in their seats, their energy contagious, while her little sister sat quietly, eyes fixed on the game with a thoughtful expression.
The game was intense, both teams playing with unmatched vigor. Paige moved with a grace and determination that made my heart swell with pride. Each basket, each defensive move, showcased her dedication and skill. But it was impossible to ignore Laliah's equally impressive performance, the chemistry between them on full display even as opponents.
Amidst the excitement, I couldn't help but steal glances at Laliah, her interactions with the crowd and the game itself a fascinating study. Despite the history between her and Paige, there was an air of familiarity and respect in the way she engaged with everyone around her.
Paige's family, oblivious to the significance of Laliah's presence, continued to cheer and celebrate each play with infectious enthusiasm. As the final buzzer sounded and uconn emerged victorious, the crowd erupted in cheers, and I quickly rushed down to meet her. She wrapped me in a tight hug, her face glowing with the thrill of victory.
"We did it," she whispered, her voice breathless.
"You were amazing, my love," I said, kissing her cheek. "Absolutely amazing." She said as she spun us around and cheered. In the locker room, amidst the jubilant cheers and high-fives, Paige and i shared a quiet moment of celebration, her arms wrapped tightly around me as we basked in the euphoria of victory.
After the locker room celebrations, Paige and I retreated to our hotel room to get ready for the party. As Paige changed into her usual attire—a black button-down shirt paired with loose trousers—I opted for a more toned-down look, slipping into a sleek yet understated dress that accentuated my curves in all the right places.
As I smoothed down the fabric of my dress, Paige sauntered over, a playful smirk playing on her lips. "You know, I think I prefer you in less clothing," she teased, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind.
I chuckled, leaning back into her embrace. "Oh really? And here I thought you were all about the mystery."
She nuzzled into the crook of my neck, planting soft kisses along my collarbone. "I like a little mystery, but I also like knowing what's underneath," she murmured, her voice low and suggestive.
A shiver ran down my spine at her words, the familiar heat of desire igniting between us. "Well, lucky for you, you've already unwrapped this package," I replied, turning to face her with a playful grin.
Paige chuckled, her eyes darkening with desire as she pulled me closer. "And what a delightful surprise it was," she murmured, capturing my lips in a searing kiss.
As we finally made our way to the party, the playful banter between Paige and me took on a tense edge, each teasing remark and stolen glance fueling the simmering jealousy between us. The air crackled with unspoken tension, our insecurities festering beneath the surface like a wound that refused to heal.
As we mingled amidst the crowd, Paige's gaze lingered on Laliah for a moment too long, and a surge of Jealousy with a hint of anger ignited within me. "Can we talk?" I hissed through gritted teeth, pulling her aside with a firm grip on her arm.
Paige's eyes flashed with frustration, her own insecurities about the night finally bubbling to the surface. "What now?" she snapped, her tone sharp and defensive.
"It's about her, isn't it?" I accused, my voice trembling with anger and hurt. "You can't deny that there's something between you and Laliah."
Paige's jaw tensed, her expression defensive. "She's just a friend, damn it!" she spat, her voice laced with frustration. "Why can't you trust me?"
But trust was a fragile thing, easily shattered by the lingering stares and whispered conversations that passed between them. "Because it feels like I'm competing with her for your attention!" I shot back, my voice rising in desperation.
As our argument escalated, the tension between us reached a boiling point, our words a painful reminder of the growing rift between us. And amidst the chaos, Laliah approached, her presence casting a shadow over our already strained relationship.
We soon put the argument to rest, realizing that no one would come out happier than when we entered. In Paige's attempt to reassure me, she gently guided me over to Laliah, attempting to make introductions. Despite the lingering tension, Paige's gesture was a small but significant step towards easing the palpable unease that hung in the air. As we approached Laliah, I felt a surge of apprehension coursing through me, unsure of how the encounter would unfold. Nevertheless, I squared my shoulders and forced a polite smile, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
"Laliah, this is..." Paige began, her voice trailing off as she glanced uncertainly at me, her hand still clenched in mine.
"Y/N, her girlfriend and secretary on occasion. I interrupted, my tone cool and clipped. As I smiled softly and reached out for a handshake, which she returned steadfastly, "I've heard a lot about you."
Laliah's lips curled into a knowing smirk, her gaze flickering between Paige and me with a hint of amusement. "Likewise," she replied, her voice smooth as silk. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you both."
#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#sapphic yearning#paige bueckers x black!reader#wlw smut#gxg smut#uconn wbb#uconn women’s basketball#uconn huskies#nika muhl#kk arnold#Spotify#black fem reader#women#salemswriting
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Lap Cat
I blame @ghoulphile for this because of her reply that I stole and this ask she got
“better behave yourself now, kitten. I thought we learned what happens when you use teeth.”
🔞 1,245 words | Pre-War, Post Divorce Cooper, Sometimes a lady just wants to be a good little kitten for Mr. Howard. Sorta. (established relationship, kitten pet name OBVIOUSLY, light fingering, light oral sex)
It's a lazy sort of afternoon where the warm sunlight and humidity leaves you languid. Mellow and sluggish. Being well fucked will do that to a gal. You're sore in all the right places and utterly content to sprawl out on the couch beside Cooper.
The TV drones on, a distant buzz to your ears as you let your consciousness slip in and out. You're comfortable, coiled on the couch as you are with Cooper's thigh as a pillow and an arm flung over his lap. He's reclining back, casually puffing on a cigarette as he watches the TV. You don't know that he's watching your serene expression just as often as the screen.
His other hand relocates every now and then as Cooper smokes. First at your shoulder with his thumb idly rubbing under the sleeve of your dress. Then swooping down the curve of your side to repeat the same idle stroke at your thigh. Occasionally he'll let fingers wander to stroke down the soft flesh of your thighs or give your ass a playful squeeze as you murmur and burrow closer.
You don't dip fully into sleep until Cooper starts playing with your hair, fingers combing through it while his even breaths lull you. It's soothing, being nestled against the warmth of him while Cooper pets you. His scent envelopes you fully from where your head rests on his thigh, every breath making sure your senses are full of him. The faint smell of horses, leather, stale smoke, and the woodland scent that's uniquely him. It makes you nuzzle your face against his thigh affectionately, seeking more of his scent.
You blink, time skipping ahead in an instant as you look up. There's his cigarette in the ashtray, stumped out before you glance up to catch his eyes. "There she is," He rumbles with lips turned up in a smile.
"Mhhm? Did I fall asleep? Sorry." A sigh escapes you as you rub your cheek against his lap, having scooted closer in your sleep.
"Not long. Only a few minutes, sweetheart." The hand that had been motionless on your thigh squeezes. There's a telltale twitch against your cheek.
That brings a wicked smile to your lips as you turn your head, nuzzling more insistently at the fly of his jeans. Cooper inhales sharply, palm skimming up your thigh to slide under your dress as he takes up a handful of your ass.
"Now, now. Quit your squirmin' before I make you do something about that."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Howard." You grin, shifting to turn wide innocent eyes up to him while stretching out. Which in turn presses the swell of one ass cheek further into his palm. You sigh mid-stretch, letting your nails dig into the fabric of his jeans before easing yourself back down across the couch and his lap. As content as a cat.
"Mhm, brat." Cooper's chuckle is a low rumble in his chest that vibrates down to you. There's a moment of consideration, his fingers flexing into the fat of your backside before he smiles indulgently down at you. He shifts his free hand off the arm of the couch to press the knuckle of his pointer finger insistently between your lips.
You part your lips willingly as he twists his finger, pressing down on your tongue. You promptly clamp teeth about his knuckle with a tiny growl. Defiance flashes in your eyes as you turn your head minutely to catch his eye.
“Better behave yourself now, kitten," He tuts, stern expression settling on his face. "I thought we learned what happens when you use teeth.” There's a certain tone creeping into Cooper's voice that sends an electric jolt of arousal through you. It's the sort of tone that unconsciously pulls compliance out of you.
He smirks as you relax your jaw and promptly curl your tongue about his finger, sucking diligently as commanded. "There's my good girl," He croons while stroking the curve of your ass.
At the praise, your eyes roll back in pleasure before squeezing them shut, squirming eagerly against him. Cooper's palm slides silently under your panties to cup your sex. He hums his approval, middle finger tapping against slick folds.
"So eager for me, ain'tcha kitten?" Cooper rasps out as he takes you in contently sucking on his finger. He continues to tease between your legs with his other hand, middle finger pressing insistently between slick folds. The honey brown and deep forest green of his eyes darken as he watches every reaction he pulls from you.
You can only moan about the fingers in your mouth in response, fisting up as much of his jeans as you can. He slides another digit between your lips and presses harshly down on your tongue. Automatically, you swallow about his fingers while taking care not to bite out of reflex. A disgruntled sound escapes you all the same. There are better things to have your lips wrapped around.
As if to reward you for the lack of teeth, he presses his middle finger between your folds while spreading them wider with ring and index finger. That index finger teases at your entrance, ghosting over but never slipping in. You huff about his fingers, hips canting to press into his palm only for Cooper to pull back. You need more. Either Cooper needs to start rubbing at your clit or sliding fingers inside of you. Even better if he'd let you hop astride his lap and ride him properly.
He clicks his tongue as you promptly clamp teeth about his fingers, promptly moving his hand from between your legs. He gives your ass a parting pat as you glower, his fingers still pressing insistently against your tongue until you release your teeth.
"Frustrated, baby?" He croons down to you. "Want something else in your mouth?"
Pulling his fingers free of your mouth with a sudden pop, Cooper wastes no time as he unbuttons his pants to free his already straining erection. In moments his cock is bobbing free, only inches from your face.
Biting your bottom lip, you lean closer as one hand comes to wrap fingers around the base of his shaft. It gets his cock twitching as Cooper huffs.
"Kitten, you're gonna need to take care o' this before you get anything else. You can do that for me, can't you?" He drops a hand to stroke over your hair, nudging your face closer.
You're all but purring in excitement. You're over eager as you pop the head of his cock into your mouth, tongue pressing against the crown to taste him. It earns you a groan out of Cooper as he drops her head back. His cock twitches between your lips as pre-cum dribbles freely against your tongue.
The taste is bitter salt against your tongue, but it makes you moan in pleasure all the same as you lap it up. That earns you another groan out of Cooper, fingers digging into your hair briefly. Your eyes roll up to meet his as you smirk about his cock like the wicked creature you are.
"Mind the teeth now." He murmurs, hand sliding into your hair to guide your mouth further down his cock. "How 'bout you show me how good you can be? Earn that reward, sweetheart."
What exactly your reward will end up being is a mystery, but you're eager to earn it all the same.
#Cooper Howard x Reader#the ghoul x reader#Pre-war Cooper Howard#fallout fic#x reader#x you#pure self-indulgence#..cause I'm a nibbler#sucking finger is for DOGS#cats BITE#CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP#woman with a cat avatar is into pet play? SHOCKING I know#actually I'm not LMAO#I didn't proofread this#the gif not loading fully makes it look like he's sneezing LMAO
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Hi! I just scrolled through your blog and loved your writing, so I decided to make a request! I was wondering if you could write fem!reader x Lucifer where they're kind of just hanging out but R is kind of grumpy and Luci is subtly (but not subtly cause lord knows he's too awkward to be good at hiding things) trying to figure out what it is. R kind of just dismisses him while scrolling on their phone and Lucifer's like "let me try something..." and just slides a snack to R to which she nibbles on and then becomes normal again. Bonus points if she apologizes when she realizes she was being mean without meaning to. Anyway, this got long. If you decide not to write this, I understand. If you do, you are required to drink water and eat a snack too at some point. Love you and your writing! <3
A/N — OOOOOHHHHHHH anon I love you for requesting this 😭💖 thank you so much! It's just a little short, but I wasn't sure what else to add lol
Hangry | Lucifer x Fem!Reader
Warnings: reader being a little mean, Lucifer being loving and understanding
Word Count: 489
Summary: Luci forces you to eat something after you unintentionally snap at him.
On a couch, in a palace, in hell, there was you. Glorious you. The very one who kept Lucifer sane — his Heavenly best friend turned perfect stepmother to his beloved daughter, which was a more recent (and super awesome) development.
He could tell just by looking at you that you weren't exactly feeling the best — it was clear by the present frown and the way your brows furrowed every once in a while, as if you were fighting something.
For a split second, he thought you were sick. But as he placed his hands all over your face, forcing you to look away from your phone screen, he soon realized that you weren't sick.
“Sorry. . .” He mumbled when you set your darkened glare on him.
You rolled your eyes, looking back to your phone. There was important stuff going on. Meetings to be scheduled. You didn't have time for anything else.
“Did you sleep?” Lucifer questioned not even five minutes later.
You sighed, irritated, practically growling out your answer. “Yes.”
“Okay. . . Well how long did you —”
“GOD! Can you give me five fucking minutes to do my job, Lucifer!?”
He was momentarily taken aback by your harsh tone, but then it was as if a light bulb went off in his head and he stood from where he had previously planted himself in front of you.
Guilt began to settle in your being as you nestled yourself further in the couch to continue working. You hadn't expected him to leave — just maybe stop hovering like you were going to spontaneously combust and disappear.
You knew he meant well, but you just weren't feeling it. Any of it.
Five minutes later he returned with a plate that had your favorite sandwich and bag of chips on top, snatching your phone out of your hand and replacing it with the plate and a bottle of your favorite drink.
You growled. “Luci—”
“Eat.” He demanded, holding your phone out of your reach.
And you did. That first bite of the sandwich made you realize that you hadn't eaten breakfast. . . Or lunch. . . You felt better immediately, which showed him instantly what the problem had been.
Once you finished, you sat in silence, trying to figure our what to say. . . It ended up being a ‘thank you’ that was said so low it was almost missed in the quiet room.
“You feel better?” He asked.
“Yeah. . . I'm sorry I snapped at you — I didn't mean to. . .” You trailed off when he grabbed your face in his hands and forced you to look at him.
“I forgave you the moment you started eating. Before anything, you're my best friend, and we don't need you being hangry.”
“Wife.” You corrected with a slight smile.
“Even better.” He grinned, placing sweet kisses all over your face — even the tip of your nose. Yeah. . . You were definitely forgiven.
So long as you remembered to eat and stay hydrated.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#lucifer magne#lucifer morningstar#lucifer headcanons#lucifer x female reader#hazbin hotel x female reader#fem reader#x reader
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Imagine Retired!Price who has nothing to do in his new found free time
His team was finally able to convince him to put down the gun and rest. He's done more than enough for others.
But after years of constant movement and missions he isn't comfortable with sitting in one place.
He starts to go on long walk in the afternoon to fill his time
Mostly people watching or checking out the local businesses.
One night as chilly afternoon turns into a cold evening he finds himself wondering into retro diner all lit up by neon lights.
He finds a booth and takes a look around at the polished but dated looking restaurant.
it brought him a feeling of comfort he hadn't felt in a long time.
"Hello sir, can I get you a drink to start?" A sweet voice chirps
He turn to meet your sunny smile all dressed up in a baby pink button up dress, waist cinched with a mini apron. Hair pulled back with a matching bow.
"Hello..." John looks down to your name tag. "Bunny?"
"Oh" you laugh, "It's just a nickname. The old timers think it's cute"
"What does that say about me, then?"
"You don't look too old to me."
"Let me get a coffee, bunny"
From that point on John made sure to come by the diner every night.
Rain, sleet, or shine you could bet he would be there.
You weren't there every night of course but it thrilled him to think of the possibility of seeing you again.
Always greeting him with a, "Hey stranger" or "You come here often?"
Always dressed in that little faded pink dress.
Your conversation started to take up more of your shift as time went on.
Evolving from cordial to friendly and occasionally flirty.
"Bunny, what does your boyfriend think of you working all the time?"
"I don't have a boyfriend, John"
"Then what do you do all day when you're not here?"
"Waiting for you to ask me on a date"
Then you both laugh but John knows his time will come and he's a patient man.
He was always a generous tipper, even before the flirting
He loved to watch you run around the place, espically when it was busy.
You handled yourself well under pressure. Never letting a difficult customer get under your skin.
He love to way you look after a long shift with your hair slightly tousled with a pen or two stuck somewhere in your hair or behind your ear.
He'll stack his empty plates up nicely to make it easier for you to pick up.
Pushing them to the edge of the table signaling to you he was finished up.
He made sure they were steady too, especially so after one unlucky afternoon that had you sweeping up the shards of glass under his table with an embarassed blush warming your cheeks.
But seeing you on your knees sweeping up your mess made unpure thoughts flood his mind.
He began thinking about what you wear outside of work.
What you wear when you go out.
What you look like when you don't wear anything at all.
Then one rainy afternoon, John blows in to find his usual booth vacant and waits patiently for your typical sweet greeting.
Instead you rush over and drop his coffee on the table with a thud causing tiny brown droplets to splatter over the thick rim of the diner mug.
"What's crawled up your skirt, little rabbit?" John chuckles.
You frown down at him, pulling your notebook and a pen from your apron pocket. "I'm not in the mood today. What do you want to eat?"
"I know I was a little late but, the it's pouring outside. Don't be upset with me, bunny" He says, refusing to drop his joking tone.
"John" You snip.
He likes the way you say his name when you're angry.
"What's wrong?" He looks up at you with sincerity and you finally drop your arms and sigh.
"It's been a hard day. My boss is just being a total tool. The other waitresses are shit and no one is tipping well. Don't say anything but, I think I'm gonna put in my two weeks" You're words tumble from you in a rush.
"You're going to quit?"
"I can't keep working like this. I hardly make enough for rent and I still have no time to myself," You take a breath and shake your head. "Sorry, I shouldn't talk about money stuff with you. You're just here for dinner."
"Let me help you,"
"No, I don't need help. I'm fine, just a little overworked. I shouldn't have brought it up. Forget it."
"Let me take care of you"
You laugh but he does not.
"Come live with me, you'll never have to work again."
"Okay stop now, this isn't funny."
"Do you see me laughing?"
"You don't even know my real name"
"Aren't you tired? You're far too pretty to be so stressed. This job will always be here if you change your mind. I don't think you will though."
━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━
A/N: This turned out longer than anticipated but hope you enjoy. I just want a Price to sweep me off my feet and make me a house wife :'-)
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#john price x reader#john price cod#john price#captain john price#cod x reader#cod#call of duty#captain price#Jud writes
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A hug for a precious teammate
A hug for a precious teammate
malereader x Jiyan, fluff;
i already have an idea for a longer post ("normal" 4 my acc) but for now just a quick short. Jiyan can be a little out of character
He stood alone in the middle of a field, surrounded by emortia flowers. His green robes blew gently on the wind. With his back turned to you, he looked into a distance. Onto a horizon where an outline of Jinzhou city painted itself.
You approached him at a distance of few steps.
-I knew I would find you here.
Hearing your voice, chills went through Jiyan. But not the unpleasant ones, rather those of excitement.
He turned his head back, looking at you over his shoulder. Warm rays of setting sun gushed on both sides of his face, trying to escape past his figure. As a result, his face shimmered with a bright, yellowish glow of light. Messy strands of his hair (which, as always, managed to break out from not-so-perfect ponytail) flew in all directions. His facial expression represented surprise. You saw him taking a sudden gasp of breath after a spin. Yet, at sight of you, corners of his lips lifted slightly upward.
Even though an image in front of you was breathtaking, you put your focus on his eyes. They showed so many emotions. Sadness, grief, suffering. But also some sort of gratitude and relief.
A desire for touch, for warmth of another person.
You involuntarily spread your arms in an inviting gesture. And Jiyan instantly spun on his heel.
It took just a seconds. Jiyan immediately seized an opportunity. He ran into your embrace.
Before you had time to realize, your body was being squeezed tightly by a man's strong arms.
You looked down. Jiyan was stubbornly snuggling his head into your chest, avoiding eye contact.
-I'm sorry. I should be there with you.
You said with a genuine remorse. Now you deeply regretted not accompanying him today.
You knew that returning to the past by experiencing Riverside Games could be painful for your man. However, you hoped that if you let him go alone, he wouldn't be limited to only your company. And that he might be able to reintegrate with other rangers. On a different level -not only restricted to work and duties. Besides, this wasn't your festival.
That's why you decided to go to work.
However, after that decision, for a few good hours, you suffered with great guilt. You couldn't concentrate on your job. Especially after you found out that the festival got suspended. You were unable to complete any task properly. You were basically useless. To the point where your supervisor - Mortefi ordered you to leave.
Jiyan rapidly shook his head in denial. He didn't loosen his grip even slightly. You were slowly running out of breath. But you knew it was the only thing you could do for him at that moment.
-I planted a seed - he said quietly, slowly choosing his words - With Rover
-But I want to plant one with you as well - he added quickly, this time lifting his face up and looking directly into your eyes.
His golden orbs sparkled slightly with hope. Somehow like with an anticipation of approval.
-I know I know -you changed your voice to as calm and tenderful as possible- We are gonna do this
You placed your hands gently on his back and slowly began to make a circles on them. Trying as much as possible to soothe his nerves after today's events.
Jiyan dropped his head again and tightened his grip more. Even though, a second before you hardly believed that it was possible.
However, that gesture did awaken you. You looked around. And your eyes caught a glimpse of midnight rangers. Standing in the distance, guarding Knell Square. They weren't looking in your direction, not paying attention to you at all. Whether out of respect or ignorance.
But still, if this were to change, you had to do something.
Jiyan wouldn't want anyone to see him in such state. Especially his subordinates, to whom, as a general, he looked like a pure perfection. An example of someone unbreakable and with an unbelievable courage.
You were the first and last one to whom he deliberately showed his vulnerable side.
It wasn't often, because he mostly tried to play tough. Even outside of work, he felt a sense of responsibility. Though in this case, for the two of you. For your prosperity and well-being.
That just how his character was.
Sometimes, however, emotions took over him. Just like now. And Jiyan allowed himself to seek for a support in your presence.
With your right hand, you delicately grabbed his jaw and lifted his head up. His eyes were no longer glowing with ordinary sparkle. Shine came from a liquid that had accumulated inside them. Tears that he struggled hard to not let out.
-But we will get home first, okay?
Jiyan nodded and you leaned down to lovingly kiss his other cheek.
-Let's go - you said, moving away from him slightly and secondly putting one arm around his waist.
Jiyan tiredly laid his head on your shoulder and let you lead the way to your house. To your safe space.
#fanfic#fanfiction#scenarios#tmr#x reader#x male reader#wuthering waves#wuthering waves x male reader#wuthering waves x reader#x top male reader#jiyan#wuthering waves imagines#jiyan wuthering waves#jiyan x reader#jiyan x male reader#mxm#wuwa jiyan#top male reader#male reader
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One of Us
Part one
Synopsis: when you were younger, you were saved from a special grade curse by a sorcerer, he became your one-night stand and then, later on, your child’s father. You weren’t going to try and reach out to him about that one, but years after you found yourself standing in the Jujutsu High gardens ready to beg for your son’s protection.
Tags: Gojo Satoru x f!reader, reader is a mom to Gojo’s child, reader is a non-sorcerer, your son is called Yasu, possible angst (depends on what you really consider as angst :’)), mentions of violence, a bit of foul language, curses are gross.
Notes: English is not my first language, so even though I checked for mistakes and typos I made along the way, there can still be some . Sorry for that!
“Five.”
It’s been a really good day so far. It wasn’t deathly hot, but the sun was shining through the big fluffy clouds, and you could almost physically feel the ice cream you bought five minutes before already melting in the grocery bags you were carrying. Yasu was carrying some of the stuff in one of his free hands, the other deceptively loosely wrapped around your own — he was definitely a certified mama’s boy, so there was no way for you of getting away from his grip even though you were feeling like your arm was about to melt right out of it.
“What’s that?” you looked down on Yasu as he stared right in front of him, only rarely fixing his gaze on people passing by.
“Five,” he repeated. “Ugly things. I counted five in the last five minutes. That’s one ugly thing per minute.”
Walking a bit slower now, you carefully looked around, seemingly more concerned by not noticing any ugly things than how Yasu was by noticing so many. Knowing your son, he could easily call anything or anyone ugly really (you were… working on it), but also knowing your son, you were certain the ugly things were exactly the ones that somewhat made you have your son in the first place.
Ah, yes, there they were. As a non-sorcerer, you struggled with seeing curses that inevitably appeared everywhere where civilisation thrived. Or, better to say, you struggled with them way less than your definitely non-non-sorcerer son, who, although mentioning them very rarely, you were certain has been seeing them throughout his not-so-long life on everyday basis. Since the day you met your first curse face-to-face, you’ve been seeing curses or at least noticing something was off in the places the curses most certainly could appear. When it came to really small curses, which looked surprisingly like creatures from some Tim Burton fantasy-related stuff rather then curses, you were mostly oblivious to them until Yasu would point it out. The older he was getting, the less he would talk about them though. Either to not worry you, or he actually did not care. The second option was as possible as the first, since no curses tried to approach or interact with him. Because of that, although still cautious, you’d also grew way more indifferent to living in the world full of various curses.
However, the ones Yasu has mentioned just now were a bit unlike and way more eerie than the ones you were used to see. As you noticed one, it was already looking at you, for a while, you more sensed than deducted. The only thing it could do, really, since all it had were some cloud-like clot of a body and creepily impressive amount of eyes. Each and every one was following you both.
Or was it staring at your son?
“That is indeed a very ugly thing,” unnerved by the curse, you still tried to regain your composure and smirked at Yasu. He smirked back.
“Said so,” he shrugged and threw the grocery bag he was carrying over his shoulder. It was light enough for him to do so very smugly. “Oh, before we get home, can we have some donuts from that new bakery? I kinda thought the strawberry ones could be crazy good.”
You turned your head back for a second to find the eye-full curse still attentively watching your steps. Then you looked back at your unbothered son. You has almost believed his act of toughness, but he hadn’t been telling you about curses he’d been seeing for quite a while now. If he wasn’t bothered, would he say about it at all?
You sighed.
“Sure.”
The ice cream did not survive the trip to bakery, so, as soon as you got home, the messy remains of what was originally a bunch of ice cream sandwiches were thrown in the freezer. It was already past lunchtime, and you were too weak for your own good when it came to your son, so here you both were now, in the kitchen, you cutting the carrots for the soup and Yasu munching on one of his ‘crazy good’ strawberry donuts.
“You’re going to choke, baby,” you disapprovingly chuckled, bending a little back to give your son a side-eye. “Don’t bite down on it so much, it’s not going to run away.”
“How do you know that?” he argued with his mouth full, but still obeyed, slowing down and even taking a huge gulp of coconut milk. It was so cold that when Yasu put the glass down on the table, the condensate still immortalised his hand in a wet handprint.
“Good boy,” you murmured with a smile, getting back to vegetables in front of you.
After the donut was finished, Yasu was free to go to his room, however, he proceeded keeping you company. Most of the times he was a chatterbox, as loud as a whole bustling street, but you’d been walking around the city for the whole first part of the day, it was hot, and the table was appealingly cool — Yasu laid his cheek on top of it and was now silently watching you leisurely cooking late lunch.
After a long moment of peacefulness, Yasu suddenly jumped from the chair he was melting on. “Need to pee,” he informed, running almost like it was exactly one second before a disaster.
“Thanks for the info,” you chuckled, shaking your head and turning around. “Wait.”
He stopped at the doorway, bouncing a bit on his feet, and readily opened his mouth, receiving a peace of carrot from you before sprinting down the corridor. “Thanks!”
You heard a door opening and closing, and then, after about two minutes, opening and closing again. However, you never heard footsteps coming back to kitchen or at least going to turn on the TV in the living room. Thrown off by it, you decided to quickly check on Yasu and, since it was gonna be just a second, didn’t even put down your knife, only sliding it down your apron on both sides to clean it.
“Hey, baby,” you walked in the hallway, softly smiling in the direction you thought your son would be, “do you mind giving me a hand with cleaning the—“
He was standing there, frozen in place. Door to your bedroom was open wide, and Yasu was looking there, jus as wide-eyed, not like a deer in the headlights, but more like a dog that spotted something that could pose a huge threat — he wasn’t moving, but his whole little boy’s body was tense. He was scared. And he was focused.
“Yasu?..” you called out, suddenly afraid of talking too loud, and made a trial step forward. It was dark in your bedroom, and Yasu’s unblinking bright blue eyes seemed a few shades darker as well.
Wait. You hasn’t closed curtains in your bedroom yet.
It all happened within seconds. You saw it all like it took forever. Yasu slowly turned his head towards you, opened his mouth, but not a single word escaped his lips — you lunged forward, knife falling from your hand, your first instinct was to wrap yourself around your son, to protect him with your whole existence; the darkness lunged forward from your bedroom as well, almost like it was copying your movements, reflecting your thoughts and, what was the most terrifying — its main target was also your son. You changed your directions in milliseconds, turning in front of Yasu and putting your hand out. It disappeared in the darkness, immediately going numb.
Finally, you saw it too. It was not anything like darkness — it was a deformed, hideous pile of eyes and rotten body, constantly moving in chaotic ways, almost like there were thousands of maggots under a thin layer of coal-coloured flesh. It had a huge mouth-like line, and you definitely knew it was a mouth now that it had your arm almost fully in it.
“Mama!” Yasu’s high, scared voice broke through the ringing in your ears and the wall of cold sweat you broke into as soon as you saw the curse in your bedroom. It was definitely a curse.
All over again.
The mouth of the curse was gigantic, but it was obviously toothless, because your arm was in it, but it was still yours. It started to burn, and the burning became progressively worse with each passing second.
“Yasu, run,” you growled through your gritted teeth. You knew you could do literally nothing against it, and even if Yasu theoretically could, you were absolutely not going to try it out. There was no chance you would risk your kid’s life in attempt to save yours.
You slowly turned your head, struggling since burning was already almost impossible to ignore, and saw that Yasu was still standing there, staring where your hand disappeared behind the boiling cursed flesh. He was frozen still, and you jerked, yelling.
“YASU,” you screamed at the top of your lungs, “RUN!”
The curse twitched, shortly opened and closed its mouth, swallowing your arm even further down, and now you screamed because of the staggering pain — the burning had become unbearable at this point, nearly blinding you, felt like you were about to lose your consciousness at any given moment. Luckily, your screams snatched Yasu right out of his torpor, and he fled away, making your pain a little more bearable.
At least he will be safe, you thought, trying to lock your gaze on his back while you mostly felt than saw how the curse started swallowing you even further down. It didn’t matter at this moment, nothing mattered really, except you not knowing where Yasu would go after that. You started to black out, your thoughts became gooey and slow, and you started closing your eyes, thinking, hey, this case would probably attract some sorcerers, and Yasu didn’t have anywhere to go, right? He was something, really something, maybe a little bit mean to strangers and he tended to talk a lot, but he was also most certainly a sorcerer, and sorcerers seemed like a dedicated… cult? Bunch? Some weird curse anti-fanclub? Whatever they were, they wouldn't leave one of them on the streets, right? They wouldn't…
In the final moments, before closing your eyes — you stopped feeling any pain at this point — you smiled at Yasu. Wanting to see his little cute face one last time, you even managed to imagine him grabbing the knife you dropped at the kitchen doorway and dashing back to you.
What a sweet child, you thought. It was always destined to end like this, huh?
Your head finally went blissfully silent.
If this is heaven, it sucks, you thought, but if this is hell, they should bring it on because that's embarrassing.
Your head hurt like it was smashed in two, and it was spinning like you were riding on a deathly wheel for the past twenty four hours. Your mouth was a whole desert, and you winced, trying to move — it was a total mistake. Your whole hand rewarded you with a sting of pain similar to sensation of putting it in a pot of boiling water.
“I’d advise you not to do that,” as soon as you heard a male voice, you shot your eyes wide open. That was your second mistake, as it made your head hurt like it was split not in two, but in four now. You groaned, and it made your throat feel even worse. Third mistake, really. “Told ya!”
His voice was a little too cheerful for your taste (and condition), you haven’t heard your son’s voice — and your son would definitely not shut up right now, because you were definitely unconscious for some time and for some reason and—
Wait.
Wait.
“Where is my—“ you shot up on your bed, and it was your fifth mistake for the past three minutes. You tried to look around, fighting for your life against sudden dry urge to puke.
“Son? Oh, he’s fine,” you couldn’t quite focus your gaze on the man. Why was he even in your hospital room? According to all the white around you, that’s definitely where you were. “More than fine, actually, given he didn’t need our help with the whole first grade curse, y’know?”
You huffed, not following his really fast babbling — it did really remind you of someone very familiar — and rubbed your eyes, squinting at him. Your vision started slowly coming back to you.
“I would say ‘good to see you again’, but I’m not sure you can,” he said, leaning a bit forward. He had really distinguishable features, starting with his impressive height and finishing with how he was blindfolded and had this head of unduly familiar white hair.
“Yasu [Last Name] is fine,” he repeated again, his voice suddenly going way more serious. “Or should I say Yasu Gojo, hm?”
You looked at him blankly. Blinked. Blinked again.
Oh.
Oh shit.
Notes: it is literally my first time writing something in English (aside from my English assignments lol) and posting it, so I hope you enjoyed! Some advices are defo welcomed as long as they are not blatantly rude. Also, I'm sure there are plenty of fics with this idea, but I swear I haven't read any before writing this, so I'm sorry if someone had already written something similar.
#jjk x reader#jjk x you#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x y/n#jjk fanfic#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo
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NO ME QUEDA MÁS
pairing . Joost Klein x singer-gn! reader
content . you are addressed as 'reader', reader can be seen as male or female, mentions of unrequited love, jealousy, insecurities, suggestive mentions, making out, best friends to lovers, angst to fluff
summary . you find out that your crush of three years, Joost Klein, might have a girlfriend, you can't hold onto your feelings anymore.
word count . 2.7k words, 15,6k characters
author's note . i love Selena, i grew up with her music and this song is the bomb. i HAD to make a fic. wanted to make this pure angst but the angel on my shoulder said no. sorry for not uploading, gas leak in my house iususisjhs, also sorry to all the Jazlyns...
These past three years have been an agonizing struggle, concealing your true feelings in the depths of your heart. Having to pretend that you don't see him in a romantic light. During meet-ups with the friend group, you have act as if his light touches don't affect you, that they don't make you think of unspoken actions.
Despite knowing Joost for a decade, it's only recently, three years ago, that you've confronted your true feelings. The realization that your heart yearns for more than just a friendship with him shattered your view of Joost. You recalled of all the time where you dreamt of him. The way he loved you in those dreams made you squeal with excitement, though, you always remind yourself that those are just silly dreams. The weight of this secret is unbearable. No one can know of this, especially Joost.
A year ago, a new addition was made upon the friend circle you are apart of. Appie introduced her into the group, Jazlyn. She quickly found her place among the group, being welcomed with open arms by everyone, which included you. With each gathering from then on, the dynamic shifted, letting her in on the activities the group does. As precious time went by, everyone could see the slight bond between Jazlyn and Joost.
You got word that the two were hanging out privately within nine months of knowing her. There was an unwelcomed feeling in you, jealousy, which was brewing up inside you. The horrid feeling took root within your heart. The thought of Joost being with some else haunted you. When they were seen to have a moment together, shadows filled with doubt and insecurity casted over you.
They were seen as a cute match, flaunted as a picture perfect match. That ignited a volcano of emotion within you, a blend of rage and sorrow. You longed to be the one by his side, to be his perfect match. Yet the shards of your broken heart prevented you from vocalizing your feelings. Your silence was too haunting that Joost couldn't help but notice. He was accustomed to your endless support and enthusiasm, so when you kept to yourself for a few months, he sensed the complete switch.
The announcement of Joost's acceptance into Eurovision was exciting- thrilling. You were overjoyed with happiness, your heart filled with support. You were planning on congratulating him with a typical hug with words of support and love. But before you were able to, Jazlyn took the chance to lunged at him like a leech. She showered him with affection.
She held him in her grasp, not letting Joost go for what felt like two whole minutes, he didn't let go. You hoped he did, but he embraced her as well, pulling his right hand over her. Looking at everyone, then to you. Full eye contacted was made, Joost really could sense something was wrong.
That night, you made a conscious choice to retreat into silence, to shield your heart, sacrificing the warmth of his presence to protect yourself from further pain and heartbreak.
Your interactions with Joost reduced to mere small talk. Despite his much persistent attempts to figure out why you have been so detached, you would dismiss his worries by say, "I'm fine." Yet Joost remained suspicious, you're 'reassurance' was not much help.
You didn't have much courage to confess your feelings knowing something might be happening between Jazlyn and Joost.
You had nothing left other than to just cheer for the two.
All you can do is relegate yourself in the shadows, concealing the overbearing thoughts of Joost. Over the span of two lonely months, you had hope, deep in your soul, that one day he'll return to you- to stay with you. That hope slowly faded, the past two months passed breezily and there was still no confidence in you to speak your mind. Your heart having to play as if you only see him as a friend.
Within the complex code of your feelings, the realization settles in. That you played yourself a fool. You thought the love you had for Joost was to be reciprocated, but amongst more thoughts to yourself, it was truly just banter for Joost. All the jokes about being each others future every things were empty, sweet, nothings.
. year twenty thirteen
"What if I never find a boyfriend?" You say, chewing apart the gummy bear in your mouth into shreds. The scenery ahead of you two was quite beautiful. Joost and you were having a picnic in a near by park. He smiled, his eyes illuminated by the soft hues of the late afternoon. He was on your left, a light chuckles left his lips. "I'm sure you'll find someone charming and handsome, reader!"
"Someone like you?"
you joked, but now that you think back, it wasn't a joke.
He laugh at your quote-on-quote joke, his hands grabbing a gummy bear. "let's make a promise," He shifted to his right so he can fully face you, "If were are still single by the age of... thirty, we'll marry each other!" Your eyes widened, you heart beating a little more faster for some reason. Your hands shaking just a tiny bit.
"How did you come up with his promise?" You tilt your head to the right, your eyes locked with his. "I just want an excuse to be able to marry you." he pauses for your response, but your not quite sure if he's joking or not. He quickly laughed at his own joke so you can tell he wasn't serious.
Something in you wanted him to be serious.
"So?" Joost says, waiting for an answer. "Don't you think thirty is a bit young?" Joost nodded, his right hand placed on your left shoulder just now. "Fine~"
"If we are still single at thirty-five, we will marry each together!" He stuck his hand out, all his fingers down except for his pinky.
You reach for his pinky, interlocking yours with his.
"Alright!! Deal."
. year twenty twenty-four
Eurovision ended, it was an crazy event that was not at all fair. the whole time when Joost was in Sweden, he tried to text you everyday, yet you wouldn't respond. when you do reply, it would be excuses on why you haven't responded. saying that you're busy with producing your latest song, that you are at an event and so on.
Upon Joost's return to the Netherlands a week post-Eurovision, Appie and Stunje orchestrated a small gathering for everyone in the friend group to relax and celebrate the amazing achievement the three men achieved, despite the horrible treatment they got they stood tall. Reminding each other that making it to Eurovision was still a life long goal they had.
As you entered the restaurant selected by Appie and Stunje, the smell of delectable cuisines floated around the establishment lure your senses from the moment you stepped in. Approaching the hostess, you asked if there wads a reservation under the name of Joost. With a gracious smile, she directed your eyes to the spacious booth in the left side of you. You thanked her and walked to the circle booth. In the middle of the circle booth was Joost and Jazlyn, him being on Jazlyn's left side.
As you drew in a breath, a smile graced your lips. Sending a wave to your friends, commencing a exhale with a hint of nervousness. "Hey guys, sorry for being late!" You spoke up so they can hear you through out the other building's noises. Appie's grin enlarged upon your arrival. "No need for apologies, you're five minutes late tops!" He said cheerfully, as the others echoed their reassurances, Appie casually passed you a menu. "Order what you want." He encouraged you to get whatever delight you desired.
The gathering that was ensuing was a nice, relax one. Where everyone was sharing experiences and exchanges. Stunje, Appie, and Joost telling the group about the adventures they had in Sweden, beyond Eurovision. After that you eagerly said details about the latest and upcoming album in the making. The remaining in the group also recounted their own memorable adventures and enjoyed time from the preceding two months.
"To Joost!" exclaimed a friend, lifting their glass of liquor in a toast, prompting others to follow them. In unison, everyone raised their glasses, their voices saying, "To Joost!" With that announcement, they all partook in a sip, sealing the sentiment of celebration.
Some time has now past from the first shot of liquor, what seemed to be around an hour and a half of more and more talking and drinks. Throughout the event, you could feel a pair of eyes on your body. You looked at Joost a couple of times, often catching him staring at you, sometimes he wouldn't look away when you caught him. You often had to be the one looking away.
What was up with him? You think in your mind, the weight of his staring making you start to slouch in your seat. You weren't uncomfortable, you were more curious of why he would staring at you and not Jazlyn.
As the alcohol began to take its effect, the atmosphere grew increasingly relaxed, ushering in a wave of lighthearted banter.
Amidst the hangout, one friend, ventured into more intimate territory. "So, spill, Joost and Jazlyn," they teased, their curiosity peaking. "What really goes down when you guys are alone?"
When the question popped, Joost shifted in his seat, his eyes hovering over you and the friend. Jazlyn seemed to love the question, clearly into him as well. "That's a secret between us!" She exclaimed, hinting to something suggestive. Joost shook his head in defense at her as some quietly yelped an 'oooh'. "Nothing really happened, we accidentally stumbled on each other at a cafe." His defense silenced the people at the table, he soon turned his gaze at you.
An individual detected the palpable tension polluting the atmosphere and drifted the conversation towards more joyful topics. As the subject shifted, so did the collective mood, transitioning into a brighter one. However, despite the huge effort to uplift everyone, your countenance remained stone cold, a hint of heartbreak brewing beneath the surface. Despite your façade of a fake light smile, the searing ache of what really could've between them gnawed at your soul.
You found yourself stuck in your head and loathing- yearning for him still. The desire for his touch in places deemed inappropriate stirred in your head. You wanted him all over you, and you hated yourself for it. Similar thoughts were in Joost's mind, craving to feel your hands upon his body. He wished you were the one clinging on to him, not Jazlyn.
Unbeknownst to you, tears welled in your eyes until the ringtone of your phone jolted you back to the present moment. Hastily, you lowered your head to covert your face, also stealing a glance at who was calling, which was Bambie. With a shaky voice, you excused yourself from the table, "I need to take this…" The sadness in your voice betraying you. As you raised your head slightly, Joost's view revealed the glisten of tears in your eyes and the wetness of your left cheek. Rising from your chair, you swiftly answered the call and hurried out of the restaurant.
Your voice quivered slightly as you responded to the call, "Hello?" Stepping outside the establishment, you were met with Bambie's eager greeting, "Hey reader-!!!" However, their sentence trailed off as concern laced their voice. "What happened?" Bambie's voice dripped with worry, ears catching the shiver in your voice that hinted at tears.
"Nothing happened-"
"Do not say that! Tell me the truth."
You let out a resigned sigh, knowing that not answering Bambie's questions would be futile.
"It's just Joost. I need to get over him. Jazlyn is clearly into him, and he's probably reciprocates those feelings," The weight of unspoken emotions bearing down on you. Finding solace on a nearby bench along a secluded pathway, you continued,
"I've held these feelings for what feels like a lifetime, yet I've never found the courage to confess. Maybe if I had spoken up years ago… maybe then, I would have stood a chance."
The discourse extended for an additional eight minutes, during which Bambie provided comfort and support. Throughout, a mutual exchange of humor ignited shared laughter. As the conversation drew to a conclusion, Bambie's attention was diverted by another incoming call, ending the conversation with you short.
Once you ended the call, you sat by yourself. The scenery before you was beautiful. Despite the unwavering support offered by Bambie, your heart remained steadfast in its love for Joost.
The thoughts in your head circled back. there was still tears in your eyes. You sighed at looked at your lap, not noticing the person walking up to you.
"You okay?"
You looked up to see who was there.
Joost.
With a swift gesture, you brushed away the traces of your tears, composing yourself and assuming an upright posture. "Yeah, I'm fine," you uttered, averting your gaze from his eyes. In response, he emitted a soft sigh, removing his jacket as he sat next to you. Draping it around your shoulders, "What's really going on?" he persisted, his tone had a twinged with concern, prompting a deeper exploration of your underlying emotions.
"You've been weird since Jazlyn was invited in the friend group."
You rolled your eyes at his try to get you out of your shell. You didn't respond to him, "C'mon reader! Please, tell me..." Joost's voice was very whiny, that made you bite your lip. "Why do you want to know? Go back inside, it's your party after all... you should be there."
"It's not fun without you. I miss you." You look at his eyes, around three inches apart from each others lips.
"I just been busy. It's taken effect on me." You weren't really lying, you have been busy with your new album. Although, that's not the real reason why you were crying today.
"Be honest with me!" He begged you with deep whininess in his voice. "Please."
As you remained motionless, a palpable tension hung in the air, from the intensity of his gaze. His piercing blue eyes wants to see every contour of your body, as if seeking to unravel the deepest secrets of you, imbuing the moment with an undeniable sense of desire.
"We should go back inside." Your asserted dominate. Your stern voice made him widen his eyes for a bit, catching him off guard, before going back to his begging eyes. His fingers lingered to yours momentarily, it was his silent plea of more connection to one another. "I'm begging you reader," He stopped to catch his breath.
"Please, please, please. I won't judge you."
You still didn't have the confidence to confess, yet you were prepared to get rejected. "Joost, I have to confess something."
You breathe in and exhale lightly. "I like you- a lot. I liked you since the day I met you."
His demeanor softened perceptibly, a subtle shift that suggested a newfound sense of ease. "If you don't like me back, I understand-." He stopped you by grabbing your hand. "Can I kiss you?"
"h-huh?"
You stared at him like he was crazy, yet he was still waiting for an answer. "I like you too reader. Since the day we had that picnic... it felt like you've casted a spell on me."
"You remember the promise?" Your heart swelling from his confession. You intertwined your fingers with his, placing both of your guy's hands on your lap.
"Yeah. I was afraid you forgot about." You laugh at that joke. You? Forget that precious moment?
Never.
"Kiss me." You whispered, not having much confidence behind those two words. He smiled, pride and love in his face. In the hushed intimacy of the moment, you and Joost's eyes locked in a silent exchange of longing and anticipation.
He inched his face closer to yours, his free hand was placed on your chin. You couldn't wait any longer, not even a second more. You filled the gap between you, lunging your lips onto his. Your free hand on the back of his head.
Your two's lips met in a tender collision, a symphony of sensation that sent shivers down each person's spine. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the gentle exploration of each other's warmth.
Joost pulled away before coming back for seconds. The small kisses grew more urgent, more steamy. The two lost themselves in the passionate, heated make out session. Them wanting more, to take off the cloth that's covering the parts they want to see.
As they broke off the kiss, their chests rose and fell between seconds. They stared at each other, lust in there eyes, yet loved was the more massive feelings as of right now.
HAD TO CUT IT SHORT OF I WANTED TO FINISH IT. lowkey would've wrote 1k more if i didn't have a deadline for myself. take care guys
#joost klein#joost klein x reader#joost x reader#joost klein fanfic#joost klein fanfiction#joost klein fluff#joost klein x you#joost klein x fem reader#joost klein x male reader#joost klein x gn reader
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kinda need some 80s slasher jj pleaseee!! like maybe he tries to apologize but like reader avoids him and that gets him mad!! thank you angel!
oooh! absolutely!! i literally love anything 80s you have no idea, i love talking about it!! (ignore the spelling mistakes, i'm exhausted lol)
₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - non con, cock warming, blood, death, violence, obsession, squirting, slight breeding kink, gun mentions, dark!jj - ₊˚⊹
"it's almost 1 in the morning jj, go away!" you whisper yell at him, lightly pushing his shoulder to get him to leave and climb back down your balcony.
"i tried to talk to you all day. you kept walkin' away from me…what's up with that?" he whisper yells back, not budging, he walks closer to the balcony window as if he's going to enter your room.
"i was about to go to sleep jj."
"nah, your light was on." he shakes his head.
"go away please!" you plead with him, hoping it is enough to just leave you alone.
"hey, you're not scared a'me? are you? cause, you don't need ta'be. i'm still the same jj."
"you killed someone!" you back away from him, placing your hand on the handle of the balcony door.
"well okay, but i apologized that day in the car and i've been trying to talk to you and apologize again, you were the one who kept avoiding me." he reasons, holding the door open with his hand.
"i accept your apology, now please go!" you whisper yell again.
"nah nah nah…you don't mean it, i need you to know that i fucked up n'i'm sorry."
"that you killed danny?"
"no, that you saw that i killed danny…look your my frie- no your my girl and i had to do somethin' cuz that asshole was just-" you put your hand up to get him to stop rambling "jj stop." but he just takes the opportunity to push past you and walk into your room.
"never saw your room before…y'like janet jackson?" he laughs softly and points to the poster on your wall and then looks over at the cassette tapes on your dresser. "…and madonna huh?"
"jayjay my parents are gonna freak if they wake up and find a boy in my room!" you grab onto his arm, trying to drag him back out.
"ya' got any dirty movies?" he diverts his attention over to your little tv on the other side of your dresser.
"seriously! beat it!"
he sighs dramatically and lets you walk him back over to the balcony. "fine. see ya tomorrow then?"
"yes. yeah…you will, goodnight," you assure him, watching as he nods, satisfied with your answer he climbs back down the side of your house.
you tried you best to smile at him when you happened to cross paths or make eye contact but you just couldn't help avoiding him, i mean he did still totally freak you out. you had just about survived the day without having to talk to him but then on your way back to your house you see him leaning against his truck, parked on the side walk. you decide to just pretend you don't see him and walk right past him.
"hold it." he grabs onto your arm tightly, stopping you from walking away. "…listen, i don't know if i was a total dip for apologizing cause the whole point was t'get you to stop ignoring me, and clearly the message was not received. " he squints, obviously not very happy with you.
"i was just super busy and i had a major test to study for so thats wh-"
"no no hey, don't worry about it babydoll, i know how you can make it up t'me," he loosens his grip on your arm and gives you a charming smile, dimples showing and everything.
"o-ohkay…what did you have in mind?" you begin to relax at how his demeanor has changed, hopefully, you think.
"rented this gnarly tape n'i wanted to watch it with you. your folks home?"
"no…they don't back tonight till 3 in the morning…big dinner benefit thing, they usually get drunk and stay really late into the night…" you ramble.
"right. great. i'll drive you home."
"ohkay jayjay…thank you," you respond shyly as if you two had just met and he was asking you on a date.
"so which movie did you rent?"
"its a surprise, think you'll reaaaally like it."
"i like most movies…want anything from the kitchen? water, beer…"
"m'good, i just put the tape in, cuhmon, i'll be gentle with you." he sits down on your bed and pats his lap for you to come over and sit on. you nod slowly and sit right next to him, so he grabs your waist and scooches you over onto his lap, your ass right up against his gradually hardening bulge.
"jj…what are you doin'?" you take your eyes off the tv and look down at his hand coming to flip your skirt up and feel that you're not wearing any panties, giving him full permission to rub on your pussy.
"shshsh, just focus on the TV, princess." you ignore his actions like an idiot and figure at least he's being gentle with you and focus back on the TV, the camera in a POV angle following a guy with his hands up defensively.
"what are we watching?…" you whisper, trying to push jj's hand away from your pussy, but obviously that doesn't do anything. he smacks your hand away and goes right back to touching you.
"it's a movie i made…see there that's your ex-boyfriend, talked him into the role," he whispers back, clearly very interested in what's on the screen…and playing with your pussy. the next thing you know you watch as your ex-boyfriend gets shot in the face and then shot more times in the chest, blood going everywhere.
"ohmygod jay-!" you scream, shutting your eyes and covering your mouth with one hand, while the other tries to get his hand away from you so you can get the hell off of him. he ignores your attempt and tightly wraps his other arm around you to keep you in place.
"holyfuck you're so wet." he laughs, dipping two fingers into your embarrassingly wet cunt, the intrusion making you mewl and turn your head away from the screen and the gory mess being shown.
"nah uh, keep watching." he tuts, moving his hand away from your princess parts and over to his jeans to pull his dick out to put inside you.
"i don't want to watch this anymore! i don't wanna-"
"don't care whatcha don't wanna do, worked hard to do this for you babe…so you're gonna sit here on my cock and watch the fucking movie i made for you." he grunts, lifting onto his dick, the stretch and fullness you feel is unreal, you have no choice but to sit there and soak his fat cock.
"no!" you cry, tears starting to gather at your waterline.
"yeah…she's likes it, she's squeezing me reaaaaal good baby. jj presses a wet kiss to your cheek and wraps his arms around you again to keep you there.
"turn it off, please! please!…"
"y'gonna quit ignorin me, cupcake?"
"uh huh…i swear just please!"
"it's almost over, keep watchin." but you just can't, squeezing your eyes shut you try to block out all the noise and just focus on not cumming on him, not wanting to give into him. yet, there's no use, cause now he's got his three fingers pressing down on your little clit, rubbing it fast and hard.
"jayjay!" you squeal, digging your nails into his arm that is around your waist, as you cum hard around his dick. when you blink your eyes open the tape has finished and you notice all the liquid sprayed on your sheets.
"oh ho…there she is, squirting on my cock like a dumb slut.” he smiles and presses a little kiss to your neck.
"not on birth control are you?" you can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears as he continues to softly rub your clit.
"yo, i'm talkin to you." he spits, slapping your cheek a few times with this big warm hand to get you to respond. a few more tears spill down your face and respond with a weak whisper. "no, m'not…m'not…"
"maybe y'should be." he grunts softly before dumping his huge warm load in you just from cock warming.
#that gif of him so sexy idk why!!#gardengirl'sobx!⋆₊ ⊹#lenepilar'sobx!⋆₊ ⊹#jj x reader#jj obx#jj thoughts#jj outer banks#jj x you#jj maybank smut#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank#dark!jj maybank#dark!jj maybank x reader#80s!jj maybank#80s!slasher!jj#80s!slasher!jj x reader#80s!obx#80s!obx!au#80s!slasher!au
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I fell asleep with spotify on and woke up to sea shanties. And in that honor:
Roronoa Zoro loves to drink. Everyone knows this. His high alcohol tolerance means he can usually keep himself in a pleasantly fuzzy state.
Still, there are times where he gets properly drunk. Absolutely blackout sloshed. And this poses the question of what to do with him? How to care for him?
That is, until Sanji joins the crew. See, the rest of the strawhats may be new to this sailing business, but not Sanji. Sanji was raised by pirates on the sea. Rowdy, fun loving, drink loving pirates. And he knows exactly what to do with a drunken sailor.
Snhsiwbehei this is so stupid. Just a silly thing that crossed my mind.
-♡♡ lots of love
Anything for you, ♡♡ Anon. What shall we do with the drunken sailor, indeed? I saw your ask about still thinking on the lazy sleeping Zoro. Thought I'd add a little more lazy swordsman in there for you.
Until The World Stops Spinning
Masterlist Here
Word Count: 1,000+
Synopsis: You have just come off watch-shift, just as Sanji wanders onto the top deck of the Going Merry. Both of you discuss what to do about Zoro's current state of inebriation. What shall we do with the drunken swordsman...
Themes: Zoro x reader, subtle sanji x reader, drunkenness, smoking, drinking, sleeping, written with the sea shanty "What shall we do with the drunken sailor" in mind.
Notes: I listen to shanties all the time when I write. It's seriously such a vibe. This anon comes up with the best prompts, and I seriously can't. Edit to add: That version above by The Irish Rovers is what I used to dance to when I did Irish dancing as a child. One of the old tunes that made me want to play violin.
Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @writingmysanity
Gulls singing their sweet song of the morning lingered in the air, the perch of several flocking members sat proudly atop the top mast of the Going Merry. The chef serving beneath the Straw-Hat captain wandered on the deck to enjoy his morning cigarette after setting aside the morning crepe batter to rise. What greeted him in the morning light was a sorry sight to behold.
The puddle of drool pooling from the corner of the sword wielding first mate’s mouth was indication enough that he was past the point of no return in his drunken stupor. His snore rattled and shook the top deck, the wood almost cracking beneath the intensity of the roar falling from his parted lips.
Standing over the first mate, arms folded in twine, stood the Going Merry’s latest member: the ship's counselor.
“Mornin’ chef,” you utter without turning away from the snoring first mate. Sanji pouted with a deep frown while placing the filter of his cigarette between his lips.
“Good morning, counselor. Good watch shift?” Sanji uttered while striking his flint and lighting the end of his cigarette. You nod, both of you not tearing your eyes away from Zoro as the deep rise and fall of his chest indicated traces of life within his death-like slumber.
“Not a single thing to report, aside from this thing here, of course,” you uttered, gently tapping your toes against Zoro’s thigh as he slept soundly. Sanji inhaled a lengthy breath of his morning nicotine, exhaling down at the swordsman with a soft scowl on his face.
“How many'd he have?” Sanji asked tilting his head and examining Zoro as his shaky snore.
“Around five or six, I think,” you bob your head before further clarifying, “Bottles, not short rounds.” Sanji clicked his tongue at the confirmation, gently shaking his head.
You turn towards the blonde chef, furrowing your brows and looking at him inquisitively.
“Chef?” you quirked up at him, prompting him to turn towards you in response, “You've probably had the most experience with inebriated sea-folk. Any quick remedies you can think of for this?”
“I can think of a few cures from the tales of old,” Sanji chuckled, his smile turning more playful with each passing moment. “Shave his belly with a rusty razor comes to mind.” You scoff at him, rolling your eyes with a soft chuckle.
“Zoro's stomach is as smooth as a baby bird,” you laugh at him, “Not a hair to rid him of, rusty razor and all.” Sanji hummed, pressing his index finger to his chin and thinking further.
“Put him in the longboat ‘til he's sober is the next classic suggestion,” Sanji took a moment to take a lengthy drag with a deep chuckle, “Or: stick him in the scupper with a hosepipe bottom, is another.”
“The Going Merry has no long boat,” you shrug, looking down at the snoring former pirate hunter and lulling your head to the side, “And I don't think he'd very much enjoy a swift spanking on the meat of his ass with a rubber pipe, in his current state.”
Sanji laughed in a loud and unbridled laugh, placing the cigarette on the ground and dulling it's light with the ball of his foot.
“Put him in bed with the Captain's daughter, then?” Sanji chuckled in glee, softly nudging your shoulder with his, “That's the only other option in the tales and shanties.” You nudge him in return before nuzzling your head against his bicep.
“While stringing him upside down by his ankles on the topmast is awfully tempting,” you remove your head from Sanji's arm, “We're better off just moving him and putting him to bed to sleep it off, aren't we? Wanna give me a hand, handsome?”
“Not really,” Sanji shrugged with a soft chuckle before reaching down and grappling one of Zoro’s heavy legs, “But I will because you asked me so nicely.” You shake your head, reaching down and aiding Sanji in bearing the brunt of the swordsman’s weight to take him below deck where the others began to stir from their sleep.
As Nami got up from the only bed, Usopp and Luffy rising from the hammocks, you gently aided Sanji in placing Zoro beneath the plush duvet and atop the mattress still warm from Nani's body heat. Shaking her head, Nami fishes a bucket from the side of the room and places it by Zoro’s head.
Stirring briefly from his drunken stupor, Zoro’s blurred and swirling vision glared up at you all before his gaze softened into a lazy smile.
“I… I love you guys,” Zoro’s soft, drunken drawl lazily called to you all before turning to gaze at you, “Ya’ done with the nigh’ sh-shift, ‘Selor? Gonna snooze?”
You look over at the crew, gently giving Sanji's arm a squeeze before he turns to begin breakfast for the crew wandering atop the deck. He smiled in response, gently bobbing his chin up and wordlessly telling you to get some sleep.
“Yeah, swordsman. I'm gonna 'snooze',” you confirm with him, turning to the hammocks and beginning to choose from the three suspended bed-spaces. Before you were able to move away from Zoro’s bedside, his muscular arms shoot out and snake around your midsection, tugging you into a warm embrace beside him.
Nuzzling into your hair, he takes a lengthy inhale and groans in joy at the body heat radiating from you.
“S’ay w’th me?” he slurred in question, already beginning to fall into slumber with you tucked in his arms. “Only ‘til th’ room s’ops spinnin’?” Facing away from him, you shake your head with a light smile before moving the duvet up to cover the both of you.
“Sure, Zoro,” you already feel the weight of your eyelids weighing you down the longer you linger in his embrace, “Only until the room stops spinning.” Both falling asleep almost immediately, a soft shutter of a Den-Den image conductor could be heard mixing with the harmonious snores reverberating within crew quarters.
Nami was going to hold those images over the both of you as ransom for more of a cut from your joint haul on this upcoming adventure. You both slept soundly enough to not care, dreaming of what new horizons lay waiting for you.
#one piece#x reader#opla#opla fic#one piece live action#ask snail#snail answers#zoro x reader#x gn!reader#sanji x reader#nami#usopp#luffy#strawhat!reader#straw hat crew#one piece x reader#roronoa zoro#black leg sanji#roronoa zoro x reader#black leg sanji x reader#op zoro#op sanji
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literally anything that’s dom!colby or sam please !!! love ur work !!
Enjoy!
Prompt: “Do I look like I’m messing around? Do I look like I won’t punish you?”
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, Vampire!Solby, NewbornVampire!Reader, blood sharing, blood drinking, animal hunting, reader and Sam argue, dominant!Solby, thruple acts, rough actions, kissing, biting, unprotected threesome sex, choking, hair pulling, oral (give and receive) , creampie, absolute filth
NewbornVamp!Reader doesn’t know how to control everything yet, so the vampy powers are through the roof. Sam also goes kind of nuts because of how much he cares but reader puts him in his place 🤭 Katrina is also mentioned as a witch in this! Enjoy!
Word count: 3.3k | not edited
You pace back and fourth over the hardwood floor of Sam’s room, letting out a huff when you finally hear the front door open, “Thank god.”
“I heard that.” Colby says as he walks in, smirk plastered on his face.
You roll your eyes, not really in the mood for jokes. Since you turned, you’ve been locked in the house, or when people come over, ones of the human race to be more specific, Sam or Colby’s room.
“Still not in the mood I see..” Colby presses his lips together in a thin line as you shoot him a glare, “I haven’t felt sunlight in days, Colby.” You pace some more and run your hands up your arms, “I need out. I need blood.”
Your eyes meet his, “Fresh blood.”
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he gets what you’re hinting towards. He tilts his head at the idea, knowing Sam wouldn’t like it and go on a rant about how it’s not a good idea.
But, Colby loved going up against Sam. They’ve always had a brotherly competition - With just about everything they did.
“I see.” He nods towards the window, “The sun is almost down, yeah? I’ll take you out when it fully sets.”
Your eyes light up and you race over to him, tightly gripping his bicep, “You mean that?” He smirks at the desperation seeping from your words, “Yes, sweetheart. You don’t need to be cooped up in here all night, too.”
You sigh, “Thank you, Colby.” You smile up at him, your ears perking up when you feel Sam enter the room, “Hi Sam.” Your voice is a whisper but you know he hears you.
“Hi, baby.” He says as he walks out around Colby, “Sorry for keeping you hostage.” His hands pull you into his body as his lips press to your forehead, “It’s for your safety, baby. We don’t want anything happening to you, you know that, right?”
You sigh, nodding against his chest, “I just want that frickin’ daylight ring already.”
“Kat’s coming by tomorrow.” Sam fills you in and you smirk, “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I don’t have anywhere to be, tomorrow, yesterday.”
You feel Sam’s chest heave and Colby chuckles at your slight joke, “There’s our girl.”
——
You slowly walk around the open doorway of Colby’s room and lean against the frame, “Colbs.” You whisper, biting your lip when his eyes lock onto yours, “It’s night time. Which means..” you speed over, jumping onto the bed with a smile, “It’s our time.”
“Damn right it is.” He leans in, “Gimme a kiss first.”
Your eyes move to his lips and back to his eyes as a smirk creeps across your face, “You know you’re not as mean and scary as you portray yourself to be.”
He tilts his head, “Do you want to go outside?”
You pout, nodding your head, “Yes please.” He smirks and gently grips your chin, “Good, now shut up and give me a kiss, so we can get your ass outside.”
You laugh slightly and lean in to close the space.
As soon as your lips land on Colby’s, it unlocks a whole new feeling for you, and along with your other senses, it’s heightened to the max.
You whimper against his lips, “I need..” You grip his shirt and pull him towards you, “More.”
Colby pulls you into his lap, your legs on either side of his body, “More.. what, princess?” He stares at you while he brushes hair from your face.
You sigh, leaning in to mumble against his neck, “Blood, good blood.. and you..” your lips press kisses against his skin, “And Sam..”
Colby’s grip tightens on your waist, your words enticing him, “Oh, fuck.”
This was the first time any of you have thought about sex, especially with you being, not just a vampire, but a newborn vampire.
The newly gained stamina.
The heightened senses and emotions.
Fuck, if you felt this needy just thinking about them, you were nervous to think about how you’re going to feel when it’s actually taking place.
“Tell you what.” Colby lets out a shaky breath and leans in, “Since Sam, was really-“ he furrows his brows and shakes his head, “-dumb enough to let you alone with me..”
He grips your chin, “I’ll take you out for an evening hunting session if-” He raises his brows and smirks, “-you promise me you’ll be a good little bloodsucker.”
You nod your head, “I’ll be good, I need blood, Colby. Please, come on.” You get up, pulling his arm to try and get him to move faster.
He chuckles at your attempt and shakes his head, standing up as you take a step back. He cups your cheeks, “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.”
You roll your eyes, turning to watch him walk over to where his sweatshirt lays thrown over the arm of his chair.
Your eyes move down over his torso and the way his muscles flex as he pulls the fabric down over his body has your pussy walls clenching around nothing.
You and Colby look at each other when you hear the front door open, “We’re still going.” You nod and Colby smirks, “I’ll follow your lead.”
You walk down the steps and Sam’s gaze meets yours, “Why are you so-“ his eyes move to Colby as his hands snake around your waist, “What do you two have planned?”
“Oh, not me. This is all her idea.” Colby motions to you and your mouth drops, “What happened to I’ll follow your lead?”
“What’s going on?” Sam shakes his head and looks down at you. You sigh, “Damon is ta-“
“No.” Sam shakes his head, “Not happening.”
“C’mon, brother. She’s been caged in here for the last few days, at least let her take a lap around the house.” Colby takes your side and Sam sighs, “One lap.”
You lean against Sam, your voice whiny, “I need blood.”
“Don’t worry, Sam. I told her I’d take her hunting for a rabbit or two if she was a good little bloodsucker for us.” Colby smirks as Sam looks down at you, “Mm, did you agree?”
You turn, laying your hands on his chest, “I promise I’ll be a good girl for you and Colby. I won’t run off, I’ll stay with you the whole time.”
And you did.
For first hour or so.
You listened to what Sam wanted you to do, succeeding with two rabbits, which wasn’t at all enough to make you full, but it was enough to cure the craving - for now.
As you’re walking through the woods, your mood lighter from this little hunting lesson you just had, you start to smell something - the thing you really want.
“Y/n No!”
Too late.
You’re gone, realizing what you’re doing as you come to a stop right on the edge of a path. You take a deep breath, looking down that dirt road that leads down to a popular hangout spot.
You hear people chattering, girls giggling.
You lick your lips, looking the other way and you see bodies appear on the path. You squint your eyes as the dark purple veins under them appear and disappear quickly, the smell of blood growing closer.
Sam and Colby were close, you could hear them bitching back and forth to each other.
For a second, you really thought you were finally gaining control over yourself. But, it wasn’t until you had your teeth sunk into the neck of the innocent woman walking by, that you realized you were so wrong.
“Fuck, fuck.” Sam groans, grabbing the one woman while Colby grabs the man. They compel each person and they slowly make their way back to their party, instructed to tell them that their friend went home and they don’t remember the freak from the woods who practically beheaded their friend.
Well, they didn’t say it like that, of course.
They got their point across before they both turned towards you. You drop the limp body on the ground and lick your lips, “I thought I could co-“
You groan as your back is slammed up against the nearest tree, “Wh- uh. Ow?” You look up at Colby and he glares down at you, “what happened to I’ll be a good little blood sucker, huh?”
You sigh, “if you would have let me finish speaking before throwing me up against a tree.” You raise your brows, “I was trying to tell you that I had a second where I thought I could control it, but she was hurt and then next thing I know, I’m attached to her neck.”
“It’s our fault.” Sam says walking up. He glances back, “We should probably get out of here. I’ll take care of the body, I’ll catch up with you.”
Before you can protest, Colby grabs your wrist and you take off in the opposite direction of Sam.
Coming to a stop, Colby turns around, hands on your waist, “How’d it taste?” You bite your lip, shrugging your shoulders, “Try it and tell me.”
You tilt your chin up a little bit and you smirk as you see Colby’s eyes shift before he leans in, licking over the semi-dried blood that ran down your chin and neck.
You grip his shoulders, stifling back a moan as you feel him kiss and nip his way back up to your lips, “I can’t wait to get you back home.”
Colby steps back and you look over as Sam, and before you can speak, he beats you to it, “That cannot happen again, y/n. Do you understand me?”
Yep, even as a vampire you still hate when Sam gets all stern with you.
You roll your eyes, letting out a quick sigh, “Yeah, yeah. Wont happen again, sorry.”
Sam reaches up, gripping your neck as he backs you up into another tree, “Do I look like I’m messing around?”
He raises his brows and you look at him confused, “Um, no?” You laugh slightly and Sam’s grip tightens, “Do I look like I won’t punish you?”
You clench your jaw, voice becoming a low whispers as he squeezes harder, “Sam.” You push his arm away and he shakes his head, putting his hand right back to where it was, “I just don’t really think you actually get it.”
You scoff, “Oh my god, Sam. Really? You’re acting like you didn’t have any slip ups like this when you were a new vampire.”
“I didn’t have two vampires trying to help me.” He argues back.
You glance at Colby who is standing there watching, waiting to see how this is going to unfold.
You all know how it’s going to unfold.
“Colby.” Sam says, eyes still on yours. Colby walks up next to Sam, head tilted as his gaze falls on your, “What’s up?”
Sam nods towards you, his hand moving to cup your jaw, “I think our bad little bloodsucker here, needs to be taught a lesson.” Sam leans in slightly, his thumb runs over your bottom lip, “Given a punishment.”
The wall of your empty cunt spasms around nothing as you let a whimper fall out.
Colby nods his head, dragging his fingers against your scalp to get a better grip on your hair, “Right before we left, she was telling me how much she needed us.”
Sam nods, biting down on his lip, “Is that so?” He tilts his head as you nod and he licks his lips, “Should be good for a few hours, yeah? Since you like to not listen, we’re going to fuck some sense into you.”
You whimper from both excitement and fear, nodding your head, “Please.”
Colby chuckles, reaching out to grip your chin to make you look at him, “Oh baby girl. We’re going to ruin you.”
——
“You’ve driven me insane these last few days.” Sam mumbles before crashing his lips onto yours. He back you up to the bed and pushes you down, his body moving to hover over yours.
His eyes move to the dried blood that’s on your chin and neck, smudged from when Colby tasted it for himself.
His vampire look flashing through and you can’t help but smirk - and keep running your mouth, “All you want me to do is hunt animals. I don’t want to hunt fucking animals.”
“Then what do you want to do, baby?” Sam asks, his thumb trailing down your red soaked skin.
You swallow when you feel his hand slide against the side of your neck, “All I really want to do-“ your voice is quiet as you look up, eyes meeting his now darker blue ones, “-Is fuck both of you like an animal.”
Colby speeds over and he sits down next you, “You really are just a perverted little demon, aren’t ya?”
He rubs his thumb over your lips and you quickly part them, taking his thumb between. You let out a low hums as your tongue swirls around it.
“Fuck.” He curses quietly, “Our little bloodsucking slut.”
You moan at his words, nodding as he pulls his thumb out of your mouth, “Please.” You whimper out, “I promise I’ll be good.”
“Promising to be good, is way out the window, sweetheart.” Sam grips your neck and slams you back onto the bed, his body over yours as his face is an inch from yours, “Look at you, all bloody and turned on.”
You whimper, arching your back to get him closer to you, “p-le-“
Sam crashes his lips into yours, “Not another fucking word.”
You bite your lip, looking over at Colby and Sam turns your head back towards him, “mm. No. He ain’t saving you this time.”
You pout, reaching up to grab Sam as he moves off the bed, but Colby stops you. His fingers interlocking his fingers with yours before pinning it to the bed, “Let him blow off steam, baby.”
Sam returns, his clothes gone and he doesn’t give you any warning about him pushing your legs back and slipping his cock into you.
You let out a loud moan, gripping the sheets below you as you squeeze Colby’s hand. Colby leans in, kisses down your neck as Sam holds his stare on you.
Slowly pulling out and thrusting back in, quickly getting into a rough, punishing pace that has you ready to rip Colby’s arm from his body.
You wanted to scream out his name, beg him to stop, but he was already mad at you, you didn’t want to push him over the edge completely.
You turn your head, moaning against Colby’s cheek. He tilts his head up, sliding his free hand up your arm before moving it to your neck, gaining a whimper from you before his lips are on yours.
“If you’re not going to have her mouth on your dick, then get out, Colby.” Sam groans , his grip on your thighs is definitely hard enough to leave bruises, but sadly, with your super healing ability, you wouldn’t get to admire them.
“Fine.” Colby sits up, removing any grip he has on you has you whimpering. Your eyes roll shut, your body tensing up in an arch as his cock repetitively hits your cervix, earning yelps and moans.
You feel the bed dip down by your head, Colby reaches down to brush hair from your face, “Open.”
You comply, looking up at him as he strokes his cock a few times before slipping the tip between your lips, “That’s it.” He breathes out, his hand resting on the top of your head as you work your way into a bobbing rhythm.
All of your senses are HIGH.
Sam is using that against you, mainly to try and teach you a lesson, but you sure has he’ll aren’t taking it as that.
“Gonna cum on my cock?” Sam asks, “I’m sure you’re all ready there.”
You pop off of Colby’s cock, your walls squeezing Sam like your life depends on it.
Until he pulls out.
Before you can say anything, you’re flipped over and pulled down the bed by your ankles.
Sam is now by your head, and Colby is now behind you.
Colby’s hands rib over your hips before he grips, lifting them up off the bed so your ass is pointed up, “i think this vampiness has made you hotter.”
“Hence why you need to learn how to control yourself, baby.” Sam runs a hand over your hair, moving it down to grip your chin, “Open wide.”
Colby slides in, causing your mouth to drop open which Sam takes to his advantage and pushed your head down onto him, earning a gag at the sudden feeling.
“Fuck, take it. I know you can.” Sam’s chest jolts out with each bob of your head. You moan around him, sending shivers of pleasure through his body.
Colby’s hand comes down to leave a welted red handprint on your ass cheek. Your long moan from him is muffled by Sam keeping his cock in your mouth,
“Fuck, fuck. C’mon baby.” Colby groans, hands squeezing your hips harder as he tries to get you right where you want to be.
“Fuck.” Sam throws his head back, quickly returning to the sight between his legs. He lifts your head, watching as the tears spill over the edge, painting your cheeks with glossy lines.
“Are you going to listen?” Sam asks and you nod, moans falling from your lips as Colby leans down, his arm wrapping around your waist so his hand can massage your clit.
“Words baby, time for words.” Sam cups your cheek and you lose it.
“Yes! Yes! Yesyesyes.” You whine loudly, pushing your hips back to meet Colby’s thrusts, “Fuckfuckfuck.”
Sam watches your face, studying how its twists and turns with the pleasure you feel.
“Are you going to try and control yourself?” Sam again and you groan, “I said fucking yes, Sam.”
Colby’s quick to move and before you know it, you’re against the wall, Sam inches from your face, “I’m sorry, did I ask for the fucking attitude?”
You stay silent as Sam continues, “I’m sorry that me actually fucking giving a shit about you is so annoying that you feel like it’s okay to ju-“
Sam was on the bed.
His back against the mattress as your hand is around his neck, “I never fucking said that it was annoying and that I didn’t like it. I’m fucking losing it, Sam.”
He stares up at you, pursing his lips as he tries to hide his smirk.
You tighten your grip, “I swear to god Sam. I promise, I’ll work on controlling my impulses.. just..” you whine, “Just let me cum.”
He looks over at Colby and back to you, “If that’s what you want.“
You nod, not really knowing what you’re signing up for.
“Let me up and we can give that to you.”
Your grip loosens, but it wasn’t long before your back was against Colby’s chest, legs pushed up by Sam and your cunt is taking both of them beautifully.
“Just gotta be a good girl.” Colby groans in your ear, “Maybe if you’re good, we can reward you like this in the future.”
You whimper, “Y-yes. yes.”
Your eyes roll back, unable to process what either of them are saying to you anymore.
Colby’s arm goes to lay across your body, holding you tight as you feel his thrusts grow sloppy, same with Sam, “Cum for us, y/n.”
You look up at him, moaning as his name rolls off your tongue with such grace.
Your body was twitching, tensing up as your orgasm rolled through you, taking your energy with it.
You continue to lay against Colby’s shaking, your vision was blurred and you honestly felt weak.
“Here.” Colby bites his wrist, bringing it level to your eyes and you’re quick to look. You eyes turn red and veiny eyes, “Drink.”
You don’t hesitate, leaning forward you push his palm to your mouth and he gasps as your fangs sink into his skin, sucking away at his blood.
“That’s it, baby.” Colby whispers as he runs his free hand up and down your bare back, “Good girl.”
You were so lost in the bloodlust of Colby that you didn’t realize Sam made sure you were cleaned up.
You pull off of Colby, letting your head fall against his shoulder with a relieved sigh.
“You gonna listen to us now?” Sam chuckles as he brushes your cheek. You open your eyes, smiling as you see him through your blurred vision.
“Yes.” You say quietly, “I promise I’ll be a good little bloodsucker.”
“We just want you safe, okay?” Colby kisses your head and you nod, “I know.”
“We love you.”
——
Okay okay okay, I kinda rushed this at the end but it still alright to me! Let me know how you liked it and as always, I love ya!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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Conquer the Heart
Summary: Joel comes out - written for @romanarose Pride Event Week 1: Coming Out
Word Count: 3,981
Pairing: Joel Miller x M! Reader
Rating: Mature (but my blog is 18+ mdni)
Warnings: vague descriptions of sex, fluff, kissing, conversations about sexuality, really that's it this is pretty much just sweet and fluffy with a tiny hint of spice
Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar who could have guessed? Love y'all <3
A/N: I just wanted to make Joel queer idk. Title from an Orville Peck song because of course
You don’t know what possessed you to pay the $5 cover to check that place out. The Round-Up Saloon, perched on a street corner in downtown Austin. The outside was unassuming enough, but the neon lights and mechanical bull and rotating dance floor inside made it look like something straight out of Urban Cowboy.
There were all kinds of crowds. College kids and business casuals and actual cowboys. And it’s Austin, so all the sexualities were represented in one way or another as you took note of the couples at tables and on the dance floor. You couldn’t really care about any of them, though, as soon as you laid eyes on him.
You were drawn to him and his broad shoulders and tight Wrangler blue jeans.
He was with a big group of women and men, all drinking and laughing and taking turns line-dancing with each other on the dance floor.
And to think you only stumbled into the honky tonk cowboy bar out of curiosity… It certainly wasn’t your scene.
But you’d watched Joel dance with a few women with respectful hand placement, and then he danced with a man, and hope had bubbled up inside of you to the sound of Alan Jackson.
He was a little sweaty when you worked up the courage to talk to him, and his cologne masked all the alcohol and cigarettes in the air.
You plastered on a flirty smile and asked him if he could teach you some of his moves. When he looked taken aback and flustered, you backtracked.
“I’m sorry, I saw you dancing with that guy— I didn’t mean to assume.”
“Tommy? That’s my brother,” he’d explained, a little flushed in the face.
“Oh! Shit, sorry, ignore me.”
But he’d caught your arm as you turned to hibernate for approximately 5-10 business days.
“I don’t see no harm in teachin’ you.”
And so he did. And it was fun, and his hands on you were so warm you swear they branded his mark all over your skin.
A few songs, all background noise to the ‘he’s just straight, don’t do this’ mantra in your head, and he was leading you off the dance floor for another beer.
A friendly beer. Surely that’s all it was.
But he was so friendly. He gave you pointers on how to dance, and then asked if you’re from around here, and then he was waving off his group of friends when they all announced their departure.
He asked you about your job, and you asked about his, and then the way his hands felt rough on the skin of your arm made more sense.
Maybe you were crazy, or the two beers you had were really getting to your head, but there was something so unspeakably electric between you. You felt it when he’d lean in closer to hear you, the way he touched your arm with the back of his bottle-filled fist, the way his hoppy breath ghosted across your cheek to reach your ear.
And then he said he should probably get home, and asked if he should walk you to your car, and maybe he wasn’t straight, you thought, as he briefly placed his hand on your back to guide you through the packed bar.
And you really, really shouldn’t have. But you asked for his number, and he put it in your shitty flip phone, and then you kissed him.
Right on the mouth. A quick peck that was so short you could’ve nearly pretended it was an accident.
He looked so stunned, and guilt boiled up in your stomach.
But he’d grabbed your wrist gently, and looked you in the eyes.
“I’m uh… I don’t… I haven’t ever done that.”
“That was your first kiss?”
It was a joke, and thank god he laughed. His smile looked so fucking good under the shitty, flickering street lamps.
“Call me, okay?”
And then he was gone. You thought about him the whole drive home, while you got undressed and ready for bed, as you fell asleep. You felt his touch in your dreams, and when you woke in the morning you could hardly believe he was real.
But his phone number was burning a hole in your cell phone. You stared at it on and off all Saturday long. What would you even say? Why did he even want you to call him, if he’d never even kissed a guy before? Did he just want a new drinking buddy?
The dread built up all day long, until it was late, and a sense of now or never goaded you into calling his number.
He answered, and you told him who you were, and he’d sounded so surprised to hear from you. He didn’t think you’d want to see him again, after he embarrassed himself, and his admission made you balk.
You told him you were the one who felt embarrassed. He laughed at that. Said he’s a lot smoother with ladies, but you made him feel nervous. He said he wanted to meet up again.
And so you did.
Just a shitty diner for an early dinner on Sunday, unassuming enough. The chemistry you felt at the bar hadn’t faded. If anything, it was so much more apparent now. The way he blushed when you flirted seemed less like the bad kind of gay panic. His foot kept nudging yours under the table.
He walked you to your car again, and then he kissed you, much less chaste than the night at the bar, with one big, rough hand on your neck and the other on your hip.
“That was pretty good for only your second kiss,” you’d said.
He shrugged, a sheepish smile gracing his heated face.
“Should stick around and find out about the third.”
And if you hadn’t already been wrapped around his finger, he certainly secured the spot for you then.
He wasn’t new to dating, but he was new to this, and it showed. He got pretty easily flustered around you. On your second date, he brought up his daughter for the first time like he’d forgotten he hadn’t mentioned her before. A casual thing, talking about her getting ready to graduate high school.
“Does Sarah know… who you’re on a date with?”
Joel shook his head.
“Not yet. No one does… Not even sure how to explain it to myself, if I’m honest.”
You were patient with him. It’s gotta be culture shock, living nearly 40 years of your life completely straight and having some random guy at a bar change that for you overnight.
You took things slow. You talked a lot over the phone, after Sarah went to sleep. He told you about his dating history, Sarah’s mom and only a few unserious flings after. You tried not to psychoanalyze him, but it makes a little bit of sense. Getting some girl pregnant at 19, marrying her, getting ditched with a toddler and a curt ‘good luck’ and then raising her on your own?
No wonder he never questioned his sexuality. There was genuinely no time to.
At first, you thought you may just be a stepping stone. A news flash for him, an experiment, something fun for a season. It didn’t bother you. It’s happened before. But as your nightly talks got longer, and as you took each other out more and more often, it became clear that it wasn’t like that.
You watched with fascination and adoration as Joel figured things out. It was so endearing when he asked if he should hold the door open for you, or if you should take turns. Likewise, when he held your hand in public for the first time, the way he asked your permission made your heart grow way too big for your rib cage.
Things weren’t perfect, of course, but nothing ever is. You didn’t get to see him as much as you ideally would. You were both busy during the work week, and he often had father duties on the weekends. Most of your dates were quick dinner bites when Sarah had a school thing, or an odd Saturday here or there when Sarah had a sleepover.
But that was quite enough for you. You weren’t even looking for something when you’d met him. You didn’t feel the need to move quickly when you hadn’t planned on going anywhere in the first place.
And he was sweet, and quite self-aware.
“Wish we could spend more time together,” he’d tell you over the phone, “I know this ain’t the way things normally go.”
But you liked him. So much. So it didn’t bother you.
And, as the weeks passed by, he opened up more. He started asking you more pointed questions, like how you came out to those closest to, and what it was like. He asked if you were seeing other people— it’s okay if you are, was just wonderin’— and then he asked you if you wanted to be together when you made it clear you weren’t.
“Like… as boyfriend and boyfriend?”
He chuckled, the deep gravel a familiar tone swimming through your landline with a nervous twinge to it.
“Yeah, as boyfriend and boyfriend.”
And he treated you right, and you got along with him so well, and he was so put together and responsible and respectful.
“I’d really like to be your boyfriend.”
And his breath had hitched so loud it was caught by the receiver, but you could hear the smile in his voice when he told you that he’d really like that, too.
A few days after that, he told you Sarah would be gone all weekend, on a team trip for some hiking and kayaking and bonding.
“Could I stay at yours? I hate to invite myself, it’s just— Tommy’s got no boundaries. Wouldn’t want him bargin’ in, y’know, before I get to tell him.”
You didn’t mind one bit, aside from the mountain of laundry you had to fold in preparation for his arrival.
It was the first time you’d been truly alone with him. Your dates were always public, at least somewhat. And he’d kissed you, a ton, but that’s as far as it had ever gone.
You definitely wanted him. You’d wanted him since the very second you laid eyes on him at that cheesy honky tonk bar. But it was funny how nervous you were, even though your experience with men put Joel’s to shame.
It was a lot like high school, in the way you danced around each other at first. A movie on your couch, with his arm draped along the back of it. Readjusting to ‘get comfy,’ inching, until the warmth of his body was pressed against yours and his arm dropped from the back of the couch to your shoulders.
His heartbeat was deafening, hard and fast, when you’d tucked your head against his chest. You moved your hand to his knee in the world’s most intense match of The Nervous Game and feared for his cardiovascular health.
He said your name, and like it was the magic word, every single facade crumbled around you in an instant.
His kisses made your head spin, and the way his thick thighs felt under your own was addictive, and it was over before either of you realized it had started. Two sets of soiled pants and underwear thrown into your washing machine, along with the last of the pretenses. And then you’d dragged him to your bed.
The sex wasn’t even your favorite part. The best was the morning after, and how you were plastered to his back as you woke up slow and easy. The way he held your arm to his stomach, even in his sleep. And the way you only got out of bed for food or bathroom breaks, a whole day with him, alone, uninterrupted.
Just as you started to worry that this was a one-time thing, at least for a while, Joel huffed beside you and nuzzled his head into your shoulder.
“I wanna come out. At least to Tommy ‘n Sarah. S’not right, keeping you a secret like this when you’ve been makin’ me so happy. I know you’d make them happy too.”
You stroked his hair, and asked if he was sure, and though his pretty brown eyes looked wide and scared, his jaw was set with a determined nod.
So you devised a plan. Or— Joel devised it, and asked for your input, and it all made you a bit giddy.
He had you over for dinner. Just as a friend, at first. He’d ordered pizza and stocked beer and told Tommy and Sarah he was having a friend over.
You wondered if Tommy would recognize you from the bar, but if he did, he didn’t show it. He just talked your ear off about Texas sports and old cars.
Sarah was… well, you understood why Joel could never seem to smile wide enough when he talked about her. She was so smart, and kind-hearted, and funny. You had a hard time keeping up, but the way Joel and Tommy were around her, you think she probably has that effect on most people.
It was a nice night, fun and easy conversation, good pizza, and a very competitive game of Boggle in which Sarah dominated.
And it was only a little bit difficult to spend the evening as just Joel’s friend, solely because of how easily you fit into his life. You wanted to scream it from the rooftops, that Joel wanted you to be a piece in his puzzle.
Sarah, so politely, excused herself to go to bed as it got later. The three of you left shuffled around, gathering game pieces and paper plates and empty cans, until you all eventually met back in the kitchen. Joel gave you a look, and you gave him a comforting smile right back, and it was like the room’s air was replaced with water as he spoke up.
“Tommy?”
“Mmhmm?”
The younger brother whipped around to face you both, sliding the leftovers into the fridge with a slice in his mouth.
“I uh… I wanted to let you know that I’m— that we’re, uh… Together?”
You watched as his dark eyes glazed over for a second, brow scrunched up in confusion. And then his gaze flickered from you to him, and back to you, and his eyes grew as big as saucers.
“No kiddin’?”
Joel laughed.
“Serious. He’s my… He’s my boyfriend.”
Tommy swallowed his mouthful of pizza, wiped his mustache, and smiled. A genuine smile, sweet and warm, reaching his eyes.
“Hermano, good for you. That’s— I’m happy for you.”
He opened his arms and tugged Joel into a hug, and Joel grumbled something about Tommy getting pizza grease on his clothes, but he was smiling wide and relieved over Tommy’s shoulder.
But then Joel’s face got serious again as Tommy pulled away with a manly slap to his shoulder.
“Sarah doesn’t know yet. I wanted to make sure everyone got along first, y’know?”
And then Tommy was looking at you and rolling his eyes and chuckling.
“Think we all get along just fine. You should tell her soon.”
And Joel knew Tommy was right, but it didn’t stop him from looking so anxious when Tommy left with another round of goodbye hugs.
“What are you most worried about?”
You asked him because you knew there were many things to fret over, in his situation.
“Just that… She’s had this idea of me this whole time, y’know? What if she sees me different, and then things change between us?”
And god, that made your throat feel thick, and Joel’s eyes got a little misty, so you pulled him tight against you and let him sag into your hold.
“I know the feeling,” you told him, “but I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
“No?”
You huffed a laugh and tangled your fingers in the curls at the back of his neck.
“You mean everything to her. I can tell just by how she looks at you. Never seen a teenager like their dad that much.”
And he laughed too, a little wet against your shoulder.
“Will you be there with me when I tell her? I don’t— I don’t think I can do it alone.”
Your lips found his bristly cheek and planted a kiss there, and you mumbled of course into the salty skin.
So you went home, with plans to come back the next day. This wasn’t easy for you, either, dating a guy with a kid for the first time. You knew she liked you, at least, but that was a face value assessment. Would she mind you taking up more of her dad’s time? Would she mind you in their space every so often? Would she mind if you came around to her soccer games or science fairs or graduation, as her dad’s boyfriend, in front of all the other kids with nuclear families? Would she resent you for shaking up what they had?
You didn’t get much sleep, thinking about it. You wondered if you should bring her some kind of gift, flowers or a trinket or something, but then you’d be trying too hard, right?
As you got ready the next morning, you thought about all the ways it could go wrong, but none of them really seemed realistic. Sarah was sweet, and intelligent, and surely if she did have reservations, they’d be able to talk them through civilly.
Right?
You couldn’t even listen to music on your way to their house. It was a silent fifteen minute drive with your nerves boiling over and spilling out, thinking of how awkward things could get.
But all of that kind of fell to the wayside when Sarah answered the door and said “I haven’t seen you in forever” with a cheeky grin and those bright eyes she definitely got from Joel.
It felt cozy when you sat down at their kitchen table while they sipped their coffee and orange juice and Sarah told you both all about the English project she was working on. It put you at ease to ask her questions about things you have in common, and for all of you to mesh so well into a normal conversation.
But as it lulled, you noticed Joel getting restless, and you noticed Sarah noticing his uneasiness.
“Dad, you’re acting weird in front of our company.”
And while she was alway kind and respectful, she was still a teenager with a dorky dad.
“Well… I wanted to talk to you about somethin’.”
She looked at him with her head tilted and her eyebrow raised.
“Now?”
She nodded her head toward you as she asked, and you couldn’t blame her for being confused as to why he had to have a heart-to-heart with his ‘friend’ visiting.
“Yeah um… You know how you’re always tellin’ me I should get a life and start datin’?”
Sarah laughed and looked at you.
“Yeah, could you be his wingman? It’s getting sad.”
And you laughed, and Joel laughed, but it was a little forced, and Sarah’s smart, so you could read the confusion on her face.
“What’s this about, dad?”
Joel took a big, deep breath and took Sarah’s hand on the table. You watched her squeeze his fingers as her face twisted up in worry.
“He’s my— we’re dating. He’s my… boyfriend.”
The worry dissipated, and her eyes got wide and her lips pursed before her jaw slowly dropped with surprise.
“You guys are together?”
She looked over to you, then, and all you could do was give her a soft smile and nod.
“I know you might have some questions—”
“How long? When did you guys meet?”
She looked back to Joel to answer, but you could see he was still reeling, with sweat saturating the curls at his temples.
“Just a couple months ago, he taught me how to dance to the Boot Scootin’ Boogie.”
She made a noise, like a scoff, and it made you wince.
“Months!? Dad, why didn’t you tell me?”
You watched Joel’s eyes cloud with— fear? You’d never seen him look so scared.
“I’m sorry, babygirl. I just— I guess I didn’t know how. At first.”
His voice trembled, and you watched Sarah’s lip quiver before she shot out of her chair and lunged toward her dad, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
“I love you,” she’d mumbled, like she knew it was what he needed to hear, because his shoulders slumped and his arms wrapped around her back.
You thought maybe you should look away. It felt real personal. But Joel had asked you to be here, and it was about you, too, as much as that fact made you want to burrow underground.
“You could have told me sooner. I love boy talk.”
Her voice was muffled and heavy with tears, but Joel chuckled all the same through his own misty gaze.
“I didn’t know you liked boys.”
She pulled away but didn’t go far, letting her hands squeeze his biceps as she looked to him for an answer.
“Me neither,” he shrugged, “I like this boy, though. A lot.”
And he got this goofy smile on his face, even though it was a little wet, and he looked at you, and you felt so awkward but so head over heels.
“Okay, well, you still should have told me. I would’ve been on the porch cleaning Uncle Tommy’s shotgun when he pulled up.”
Joel groaned and covered his face but you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up out of you.
“What are your intentions with my father?”
And though her tone was joking, her eyes grew soft as she waited for an answer.
“I guess I just wanna make him happy. Because he makes me happy. If that’s alright with you?”
She sat back down and rested her chin in her hand, with her lips pursed again as she thought.
“Sarah, you can have time to think—”
“Deal.”
She extended her hand out to you from across the table, and you took it eagerly to shake on it. But after an appropriate amount of handshake time, she didn’t let your hand go.
“You have to come over for movie nights now.”
“I can do that.”
“And I have to make sure your taste in movies doesn’t suck before I let you pick one.”
“That’s fair.”
“ALSO—“
“Sarah,” Joel interrupted, “this isn’t how deals work. You can’t add stuff while he’s still shaking your hand.”
“As I was saying,” Sarah rolled her eyes, squeezing your hand tighter, “you have to treat him right. He acts all tough but he’s just a softy.”
“Oh Christ,” Joel huffed.
“No, she has a point,” you told him with a smirk, “I promise I will, Sarah.”
Her eyes narrowed at you, but then she grinned, and finally let go of your hand.
So yeah, you really really like Joel Miller. You’re never happier than you are when you spend the evening at his house, snuggled up on one side of him while Sarah’s snuggled up to the other, watching some movie Sarah’s usually the one to pick.
Or when you meet him and Tommy at Sarah’s soccer game, and he greets you with a smile and lifts the bill of your Miller Contracting hat you’ve stolen to peck your lips.
Or when you’re in your own kitchen, making his coffee, and you feel sleepy arms wrap around your waist and a sleep warm kiss at the nape of your neck.
Really, as long as you’re with Joel, you’re the happiest you’ve ever been. And if those three little words slip out one day soon, well, there isn’t a single thing that makes you think Joel would be surprised by them.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller x you#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fluff#joel miller fanfic#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#OscarPedroPrideEvent2024
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He’s begging babe stay, stay, stay- Matty Healy x Reader
a/n: self titled era has a special place in my heart and I wanted to write a proper story regarding this era. Sorry if it’s shit and it feels like it’s very long.
content warning: maybe a bit angsty? fluff, smut, 18+ MDNI, p in v, dry humping, fingering, praise, dirty talk
It’s a shit day. All you have done until now is count the hours until your brother Ross is leaving to go on tour with his band.
The past days the boys were at your house just hanging around, smoking and to practice in your garage. You know because you spent time in the living room, pretending to work when all you’ve done is watch him or listen to his voice.
Matty's voice, raw and magnetic, cut through the music. Every time he sang, it felt like the world around you blurred, leaving only his voice in sharp focus.
Some times in their breaks you prayed that he would leave the garage to get a drink and when he did you felt giddy, like a nervous school girl.
Your eyes followed his every move. His black skinny jeans clinging to his body, the black shirt and leather jacket matching his persona. He’s just so attractive.
You’re grateful that Ross is part of the band. The past years have been a blessing because you could innocently see Matty and be around him without it being weird.
Your heart started racing when he entered the room, most of the times it was the middle of the night and you were grateful for the darkness that hid your flushed cheeks. You tried to focus on your breathing, but it was futile. The mere thought of him noticing you made you feel like a bundle of nerves. You had been around these boys all your life, but Matty—Matty was different.
You’re dreading the moment he leaves the house for good..
21:18- You’re sitting on the porch trying to smoke the thoughts away but every drag hurts your lung immensely.
They’re playing ‘you’ right now and you can’t help but close your eyes to the muffled music. You really will cry to the end. Cry until there’s no tears left. Maybe it’s over the top because you can’t even hold eye contact with Matty and he would never fall for you.
You’re very aware of the many different girls he had or has. And you, you had your first kiss a month ago with some football player because you tried to forget about him but you just can’t.
The reality of their imminent departure is settling in. The garage is alive with music, but you feel the weight of the upcoming silence. You will miss Ross, of course. His absence will leave a void in the house, but Matty's absence will leave a void in your heart.
You take another drag, the smoke burning your throat. The stars above are a blur through your tears. You wish you can be brave enough to tell him how you feel, but the fear of rejection is paralyzing. You would rather suffer in silence than risk the delicate balance of your current reality.
As the song changes to ‘robbers’, you let yourself sink into the music. The lyrics feel like they are written for you, capturing the longing and the heartache you can’t express. Tomorrow, they will be gone, and you will be left with nothing but memories and unspoken words.
You exhale slowly, the smoke dissipating into the night air. The porch light flicker, casting fleeting shadows. The night is as restless as you are, and the loneliness is beginning to set in. You hug your knees to your chest, feeling the cold concrete against your skin, and let the tears fall.
The music winds down, the final chords of hanging in the air like a whispered goodbye. You feel the silence settling in, heavy and inevitable. The garage door creaks open, and the boys' laughter floats out into the night, but it feels distant, like it belongs to another world. You crush the cigarette under your foot, watching the embers fade, a mirror to your fading hope.
You’re sitting there hugging your knees, covering your face and you can’t even hear footsteps approaching.
“D’you mind some company?”
This can’t be.
You look up, mascara completely ruined but you wipe your face with your sleeves. Matty is looking at you and his gaze drops, you think it’s almost a bit of worry.
“Shit,” he says, “sorry, I can go if I’m interrupting?”
“No no, it’s ok.” You say, pulling out another cigarette.
He nods as he leans against a wooden beam in your driveway, mirroring your movements by also lighting a cigarette.
The silence is sickening. You sure as hell won’t say anything because he caught you crying like a wimp in front of the door while they are playing their songs.
“S’ it Ross?” You think about how stupid the question is and you agree with Matty even though you want to say, ‘No, it's you.’
"Yeah," you lie, nodding. "It's Ross. Just gonna miss having him around."
Matty takes a drag, his eyes fixed on some distant point in the darkness. "He'll be back, you know. It’s just a tour. He’ll come home."
You nod, the lie sitting heavy in your chest. "I know. It's just... different without him here."
He flicks the ash from his cigarette, the glow illuminating his features for a brief moment. "Yeah, it's always different when someone's gone. Makes you realize how much you take them for granted."
He’s looking at you. He’s seeing you. The way he looks at you makes your breath catch in your throat. There's an intensity in his gaze, a softness that you rarely see. It's like he's trying to understand, to reach out without words.
You wonder how he sees you. Here you are, sitting on the porch with ruined mascara, tears staining your cheeks, and your heart on display. It's embarrassing, and you feel exposed under his gaze. But there's something in the way he looks at you that makes you think he sees more than just the tears and the smudged makeup. Maybe he sees the vulnerability, the raw emotion that you've been trying to hide.
You want to tell him it's not just Ross. That the thought of him leaving is what's tearing you apart. But the words stick in your throat, and you just nod again, staring at the ground.
“Ross became my family as well,” he says softly, “means you’re family too and we all are going to miss you.”
Your heart aches at his words, knowing how much more they mean to you than they do to him. "Thanks, Matty.“
You wonder if it’s the last time you’ll say his name, how long it will take for you to say it again.
“How long until you leave here?” You ask hoping deep down he tells you they won’t leave at all.
“Planned on leaving at 2,” he tries to smile, “punctuality isn’t our strength as you may know.”
You manage a small laugh, though it feels hollow. "Yeah, I know."
He glances at his watch and then back at you. "It's not too late. We still have some time. You should come inside, hang out with us for a bit.”
“I think I’ll stay out here for a bit.” You want to be alone with him, and the thought of being in a room with the whole band right now feels overwhelming. So you decline, shaking your head gently.
He seems to understand, not pushing further. Instead, he surprises you by sitting down next to you on the porch steps. The proximity sends a rush of warmth through you, even in the cool night air.
"Y'know, I've always liked these quiet moments. Sometimes, it's nice to just... be.”
You nod, appreciating his words. "Yeah, it is.”
He turns his head slightly to look at you, and you meet his gaze. There's a softness in his eyes, a hint of something that feels almost like longing.
You notice Matty's smell—a mix of his cologne, a hint of leather from his jacket, and something distinctly him. It’s comforting and intoxicating, a scent you know you'll miss.
You shift slightly, turning to face him. "Do you ever think about what comes next?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
He looks at you, his eyes reflecting the dim porch light. "Sometimes," he admits. "But it's hard to focus on the future when the present is so demanding."
You nod, understanding all too well. "I get that. But I mean, beyond the tours and the music. What do you see for yourself?"
He takes a deep breath, his gaze thoughtful. "Honestly, I don't know. I guess I hope for something more stable, something real. It's easy to get lost in the chaos, but I want to find something that grounds me." His eyes drop to your lips and if you would have blinked in that moment you would have missed it. “Someone who grounds me.”
“I understand,” you gulp, wanting to be the person.
“I think about it.” You frown, not knowing what he means. “What it would be like to settle down, find someone real.”
“Like a relationship?”
“Yeah,” he says quietly, “someone who just gets it. Would sort me out I think.”
“Maybe.” You could fucking punch yourself. You’re giving short ass answers but you’re scared to say more. You’re scared that if you reveal yourself it would be so much worse when he’s gone.
He leans back slightly, his arm brushing against yours. "Maybe it's not so far off, you know? Sometimes, the right person is closer than you think."
You feel a blush rising to your cheeks, and you look away, hoping he doesn't notice. But he does and he thinks it’s for the wrong reason.
“Do you have a person?” He asks.
“Don’t you think you would know, you’re here all the time.”
He chuckles and it might be your favorite sound. “Alright you’ve got a point there, love.”
Love. It’s a british thing but your heart still skips a beat, and a warmth spreads through your chest, melting away any lingering doubts or fears. The simple term of endearment feels like a promise, a glimpse of something more between you.
“Does it mean you still haven’t had your first kiss yet?” The question surprises you, he’s very forward and it makes you regret that you didn’t wait. Because maybe he could’ve been your first kiss.
“No I had my first kiss,” you say, “wasn’t anything serious though.”
“How was it?”
That’s the Matty you’re familiar with. Not the ‘romance talk’ kind of guy but the guy who has a shit eating grin on his face because he’s experienced and wants to know everything about the sex life of others.
“Not sure,” you cringe, “wasn’t how I imagined it.”
“How did you imagine it?”
“I didn’t imagine him slipping me tongue the second we kiss,” you groan at the memory and he laughs, “and he was just so violent, didn’t really feel good.”
He hums, stepping out the cigarette. “S’ a bummer, everyone should know how a good kiss feels.”
You don’t know what he’s hinting at because it would be dumb to assume he’s projecting the statement on to you.
“Not every guy is like that.” He says and your eyes find his again, “mate was bloody inexperienced.”
Matty is only 23 years old, three years older than you. Can’t be that much of a different between the guys.
"Yeah, well, it's not like I've got a lot of experience either," you admit, feeling a bit exposed.
He gives you a sympathetic look, but there's a playful edge to it. "Experience isn't everything, love. It's about the connection, the moment. And trust me, when it's right, you'll know."
You do know. You know with him, you’re sure that you want to kiss him. You want to experience life with him, do everything.
“A good kiss shouldn’t leave you feeling anything but wanted.” He shifts closer, his thigh now next to yours.
You look at him, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach. "Yeah?"
He nods, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah.”
You can feel the electricity in the air as Matty leans closer, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. Your mind is a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, fear, longing. For years, you’ve harbored these feelings for him, tucking them away in the corners of your heart. He’s always been more than just your brother’s bandmate. He’s been the one who makes your pulse quicken, the one whose presence can light up your entire day.
You've watched him with other girls, feeling a pang of jealousy each time. You've imagined what it would be like to be the one he looks at with that mischievous grin, the one he holds close in the quiet moments. And now, here you are, on the brink of something you’ve dreamed about for so long.
Your thoughts are a jumble, your heart pounding in your chest. You want to kiss him so badly it aches. The desire has been building for years, a slow burn that has now become an overwhelming flame. The way he makes you feel—giddy, nervous, hopeful—no one else has ever come close. He’s the reason you find yourself smiling for no reason, the reason your heart feels too big for your chest sometimes.
You glance at his lips, and the anticipation makes your breath hitch. You’re nervous, of course you are—this is Matty, the guy you’ve loved from a distance for so long. But beneath the nerves, there’s a deeper, more insistent feeling: the need to finally close the gap, to feel his lips on yours and know what it’s like to be kissed by him.
You swallow hard, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. "Matty, I... I don't know what I'm doing."
"That's alright, love. Everyone's gotta start somewhere. Just tell me what you want." He gives you a reassuring smile, his hand brushing against yours.
You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. "I want... I want to know what a good kiss feels like."
His smile widens, a glint of something mischievous in his eyes. "Well, I can help with that."
You nod, feeling a rush of anticipation.
He leans in slowly, giving you time to back away if you want. But you don't. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips meet yours.
The kiss is gentle at first, his lips soft and warm against yours. There's no rush, no urgency, just a slow, deliberate exploration. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.
You relax into the kiss, feeling the spark, the connection. It's everything he said it would be—electric, grounding, and utterly unforgettable.
It's like every dream, every late-night fantasy you've ever had is coming to life in this single, perfect moment. His lips are warm and soft, moving gently against yours, and it feels as if time has stopped.
Your heart is racing, pounding so hard you're sure he must feel it too. There's a nervous excitement bubbling inside you, mingling with a deep, almost overwhelming sense of joy. The kiss is tender, unhurried, and you can feel the care and attention he's giving to every movement. It's everything you imagined and more.
Years of unspoken longing, of watching him from afar and wishing for this very moment, flood through you. You've dreamed of this kiss, of being close to him like this, feeling his breath mix with yours. The reality of it surpasses every fantasy, every hopeful thought. The connection you feel is electric, a spark igniting between you that sends shivers down your spine.
His hands are gentle, one cupping your cheek, the other resting lightly on the small of your back. The warmth of his touch sends shivers through your body, grounding you in this moment. The way he holds you feels protective, yet respectful, as if he's cradling something precious.
You almost whine when he pulls back.
“How’s that?” He asks, a soft murmur, his thumb still caressing your cheek.
You don’t have any words. You have to concentrate that you won’t start crying because of all the things you felt while his lips were on yours.
“Where’s your mind gone, love?” He asks, lifting your chin, not even realizing that you dropped it. “Care to tell me?”
He stops and he puts his hand back to his own body. You’re scared now, that you’ve done something wrong, that you’re too innocent for him.
“Was the kiss shit?”
“No!” It comes out way too fast, “it was the opposite.”
You can tell he’s relieved but he still doesn’t know why you’re reacting this way.
“I just don’t- ugh,” you groan.
“Take your time.”
You would but the truth is you don’t have time.
“I don’t want it to end but I don’t think you realize what you’re doing to me.” You admit and it’s a huge step for you.
“I think we have a lot to chat about hm?” He says and stands up. You don’t, you only stand up when he offers you his hand.
Matty’s hand reaches out, his fingers slowly intertwining with yours. The contact is gentle yet firm, his touch sending a thrill through your body. Your fingers are cold from the night air, but his are warm, and the contrast makes you shiver slightly.
The warmth of his hand spreads through you, soothing the anxiety that had been knotting in your stomach. His fingers fit perfectly between yours, like two pieces of a puzzle coming together. It feels so natural, so right, and you can’t help but squeeze his hand gently, as if to reassure yourself that this is real.
He smiles, his eyes filled with a mix of affection and relief. "Your hands are freezing," he murmurs, his thumb lightly brushing over the back of your hand.
You laugh softly, the sound a little shaky. "Yeah, well, it’s not exactly warm out here."
“Let me talk to the boys real quick, then we can go inside yeah?”
“Sure.” You don’t know what he’s going to say to them, if he’s going to tell them the truth about where he’s going and what he’s doing but on the other hand you don’t even know what he’s doing.
He’s leaving you on the doorstep and you already pull out your keys to open the door. When he comes back you embrace him. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, everything else fades away. He's wearing that familiar smirk, his hair tousled, and you can't help but admire how effortlessly handsome he looks. There's a magnetism to him, a charm that draws you in
“Your room alright to talk?” He asks as you both go inside, where it is a lot warmer. The heat is getting to you and you feel a familiar tingly feeling in your stomach.
You don’t want to wait until you can talk or kiss again or feel him on you. You want to grab his arm and pull him against you and devour him whole. But you’re too shy to let him know.
“It’s straight down the hall,” you mumble, letting him lead you upstairs, his hands now intertwined with yours again.
22:30- And you’re in your room, sitting on the bed which is fucking exciting because Matty is sitting on your bed.
He’s getting rid of his jacket and throws it on a little chair next to your dest. He’s wearing a basic black shirt with a cutout, his tattoo on display for you.
“Talk to me, I want to know what’s on your mind, and clearly there’s a lot on your mind.” You both sit on the edge of the bed and after he’s gotten rid of his jacket he grabbed your hand again.
“I don’t know where to start,” you whisper truthfully.
Matty's hand tightens around yours, and you feel a rush of nerves as you meet his gaze. His eyes hold a mixture of curiosity and warmth, encouraging you to speak your mind.
“I don't know how to say this," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I've... I've liked you for a while now."
He raises an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Is that so?" he says, his tone light.
You nod, feeling a flush creeping up your cheeks. "Yeah. And I don't know... I don't know how to interpret the kiss. Why did you kiss me?"
Matty lets out a soft laugh, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "Why does anyone kiss anyone?" he replies, his gaze meeting yours. "Because they want to, I s’pose."
You can't help but scoff at his nonchalant response.
“You think too much, love.” He chuckles and grabs your chin to look at him. “I kissed you because I like you as well.”
“You do?” You ask.
This is all happening very fast and you doubt his words, not believing that he likes you.
As Matty's words sink in, you feel like you're floating in a dream. Did he really just say that he kissed you because he likes you too? The thought sends a rush of warmth through your entire being, and you can't help but let out a breathless laugh.
“I do,” he nods.
“Now what?”
“Up to you, love,” your head is pounding, the room is spinning, the kiss from earlier still in your head and you just want the feeling back.
You lean forward to kiss him again, your lips finding his and his hand on the back of your neck, making sure you won’t leave his your place. You can’t breathe which makes you gasp and matty slides his tongue into your mouth.
You didn’t know that this can be hot, you go with the flow, letting your tongue brush against his in a steady rhythm. You’re getting hot, your skin is on fire and you’re sure he can feel it.
You’re panting more than Matty when you both pull back to breathe. Your pupils are already dilated and you’re ready for more. You’re never ready for anything but with Matty it just feels right.
“Can we just do this for a while?” You ask, wanting to be absolutely sure of what you’re going to ask him in a couple of minutes.
“Of course, love, it’s your pace we’re going for.” You smile at his answer but before you can kiss him again he speaks.
“Can you get on my lap, it’s more comfortable this way.” You blush but nod.
You waist no time to sit yourself fully on top of him, your legs on each side of his narrow hips. You stare at him through half lidded eyes, if you were a cartoon there would surely be hearts drawn all over them, as he captures your lips in a slow kiss. The two of you sigh and grunt into each other's mouths, moaning softly when hands met bare skin, pulling and squeezing all the right places.
“Breathe, love, we’ve got time.”
“We don’t.”
You melt into the next kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck. You feel him, he’s hard and you want to grind your hips but you have self control and you don’t know if that’s what you want.
He feels the same though, wanting to touch you everywhere at the same time, wanting to undress you and show you how much you mean to him.
He finally lets his hands wander over your sides, under your shirt and you sigh into his mouth. You still need more. “Can I touch you here?” He asks, referring to your boobs and you nod.
His hands meet your waist, run over your tummy, and up to your breasts, palming them lightly, not quite the way you are expecting. You grab wherever you can get your hands on — his shoulders, his back, pulling him closer and closer — huffing when it’s getting too much, or too little.
The kisses you share are still slow, sensual, following the rise and fall your shared breathing, but this time he follows your lead, running his hands over your thighs, your hips, grabbing your ass and dragging it over the front of his jeans, where you can feel him. You bite his lower lip, and your eyes are still closed but you can feel his smile.
“Need to tell me f’ you want something,” he says against your lips.
You hum, not saying anything but you roll your hips again, whimpering when the friction is perfect against your clothed pussy.
“Wait, love,” he makes you whine as he stills your hips. “Need to know what you’ve done.”
“Nothing more then kiss.” You say and he’s not even surprised anymore.
“Oh,” he groans, he’s fully turned on and he can’t believe it’s him who’s going to show you how perfect you can feel. “I don’t want to pressure you, I’m fine with kissing.”
“I’m not,” you interrupt, “please just do something.”
You’re begging and it drives him insane. “Alright alright, lay down for me, will you?”
You lay down on the bed and watch him get rid of his shirt, throwing it on top of his jacket. He’s crawling over you, kissing your face before moving down to your neck.
“You touched yourself before though right?”
You nod, feeling too embarrassed to let out words. He’s sucking at your neck so sweetly you’re sure you’ll forget your name.
“Can I?” He refers to your shirt and you answer with a short ‘yes.’ He pulls your shirt over your head and you reveal your black lace bra to him.
He groans, “if you want me to stop,” he says, his lips returning to your fiery skin, trailing barely there kisses down the expanse of your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, hands grasping at his bare sides. “You tell me right away.” His kisses litter your throat, your collarbone, all the way to your breasts. “Understand?”
“Yes,” you moan.
“Clever girl,” the praise goes straight to your core which you are pressing against his bulge.
“Lift up—” he says, giving your thighs a light tap. You lift your hips from the mattress, allowing him room to shuffle the fabric off your legs. You assist him towards the end, fluttering your feet until you could kick the jeans to the floor. Within seconds, he is back between your thighs, this time straddling his shoulders as he settles further down the mattress. His face inches away from your cunt, now only protected by the thin cotton barrier.
“And when you touch yourself,” he continues, fingers tracing the softest shapes on the outside of your thighs, over your hips. You can feel his hot breath through your panties, and it makes you squirm. “How many fingers do you use?”
“Two- sometimes three, like to rub my clit though.” You are even surprised that you’re vocal but your eyes are on the clock and you know there’s no time for being shy.
“Can do that f’you, let me?”
“Yes yes.” He slides off your panties.
He never takes his lips off of yours when you feel the pads of his fingers prod at your hole, already leaking with desire. You anticipated his fingers to be much larger than yours, but when he sinks his two digits in, the stretch is satisfying. The way he works up your arousal aiding in how easy it is to slowly pump them in and out, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you.
“Matty.”
He begins to quicken his pace, the flex of his forearm curving his fingers up into that sweet spot with precision, leaving your toes to clench and your thighs to squeeze around his head.
You are begging for his name like a prayer, the only word you can find as your abdomen tightens, a subtle tremor cursing through your legs.
“You’re a dream come true.”
You brush his hair from his forehead, wanting to have a clear view of his eyes when your jaw falls slack, the euphoric high starting at your core and bursting out over the rest of you.
At first, you couldn’t move, can’t think, couldn’t breathe. But Matty keeps working thumb on your clit and his fingers inside of you through your orgasm so adamantly that your head flings back, and a lewd moan echoing off your lips.
“Fuck,” you whine and when he drags his fingers out of you, you can hear the sound of your slick.
He takes them into his mouth, licking the glistening off of his finger. “Taste so sweet, love.”
He lays completely on top of you again, he’s trying not to rut into your leg but you got him so turned on it hurts.
You whine into his mouth, wanting him to fuck you but it’s your first time and you’re nervous and your mind starts rushing again.
“I got you, love, it’s just me,” yeah that’s the fucking problem. “We don’t need to go any further since you have never.”
“My first time was shit, don’t want that for you,” he continues, now you wonder about the details but maybe he can tell you some other time.
“I want this, with you Matty, no one else.” You earn another kiss to you lips.
“Hang on then,” he stands up to grab his wallet from his jacket and he pulls out a condom, it’s cliche and it’s making you giggle that he has a fucking condom in his wallet.
He pulls his pants down and his boxers and your eyes drop down to his fully hard length which is dripping red. He’s big. Now you’re scared of how it will fit.
He puts the condom on and moves on top of you again. “I’m going slow, don’t want to hurt you now do I.”
“If I do though, you tell me or tap my head okay?”
You nod and he tuts, “tell me, love.”
“I will, I promise.”
His mouth lowers down to yours as he slowly begins sheathing himself inside you, inch by inch. He is taking it slowly, which you appreciate. Feeling tears prick in the corners of your eyes at the painful but pleasurable fullness, he leans down to kiss them away.
“I will make it better yeah?, s’ normal that it hurts.”
Once he’s fully buried inside you he keeps his hips still, peppering kisses all over your face. “Shit,” you hiss, still feeling a sting.
“I know,” he keeps kissing your face, your neck, your arms to try to make it better. “Don’t worry, keep that head here with me.” He realized that you wanted to drift off again, but he keeps you in reality.
After a while the smile that adorns your lips makes him feel relieved, hating that he hurt you even for a minute. Once you are some what used to the feeling of him inside you, you lift your hips gently to show him you are ready. Matty is still hesitant with his movements, that is until you start moaning. The pain still lingers faintly, but the pleasure that’s coursing through you is enough to over come it.
“You’re such a good girl,” your hands grip his shoulders as continues to rock his hips into yours, his pace beginning to speed up. Matty is pressing a messy kiss to your lips, tongues dancing together as he makes love to you. There isn’t a doubt in your mind that this is what making love should feel like.
He brings his finger between your bodies, gently rubbing your clit. You don’t stop the constant cries from falling from your lips, head falling deeper into the pillows behind you. Matty can’t help but groan, your noises spurring him on further.
“You’re doing so good, showing me how good you feel, keep that going.”
Your nails are leaving behind crescents in the skin of his shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to mind. With his available hand he slips a pillow under your hips. Providing him a deeper angle as his thrusts become sharper.
“Stay, stay Matty, stay,” you moan. You both know how you mean those words. Of course you want him to stay inside of you but the real meaning behind those words are that you don’t want him to leave ever. You can’t handle him going away.
“It’s alright, everything’s alright hm,” You can barely get a sentence out, Matty fucking any remaining thoughts from your head.
He knows you aren’t going to last much longer, as your walls repeatedly pulse around his cock. He rubs your clit faster, feeling himself starting to loose it as you scream out his name. Your orgasm shakes your frame, as he continues to fuck you through the euphoria. It only takes a few more thrusts before Matty meets his end, singing you sweet praises as he spills into the condom.
“You’ve done so fucking good, Christ,” you can’t help but smile as he nearly collapses on top of you, his lips leaving kisses anywhere he can reach.
You’re both sweaty and exhausted, as he slowly slips out of you. You try not to wince as you feel so empty, already missing the feeling of him nestled inside you. You wonder if you ever going to know the feeling.
You watch fondly as Matty ties off the condom and tosses it in bin next to your bed. You immediately reach for him once he’s done, pulling him back down onto the blankets with you. Matty lays his head on your breasts with a content sign as you stroke your hand through his hair. The only sounds are of your breathing.
00:30- and you’re cuddling in your bed, you’re clinging to him, holding on to the remaining touch he can give you.
“Are you alright, love?” He asks.
“Yes, thank you matty.”
“Nonsense,” he says, rolling on to his back to pull you on top of him, “thank you, big step for you.”
“Yeah,” you sigh in contentment.
You drape one leg over his thigh, a hand of yours traveling over his tattoos.
“Matty?” You break the silence, looking up at him. You want to tell him how you feel, how he made you feel and how you want him in your life. You don’t want this to be the last time and you don’t want him to come back in two years with some random girl. You want to be his girl.
You think about how you tell him, if you should tell him. Minutes pass and he lifts your chin to give you a kiss. “I know.” Is all he says.
You stay like this for some time, not wanting to know the time.
-
2:15- and you look outside your window to see him driving away.
#the 1975#matty healy#matty healy smut#matty healy fluff#Matty Healy imagine#matty healy comfort#matty healy angst#matty healy x you#matty healy x reader#ross macdonald#george daniel#adam hann#the 1975 fic#credit to cafekitsune for the divider
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