#Car Wash Convenience | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

punkshort · 1 month ago

Text

Swept Away | Chapter 9: Sink or Swim

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You confront Joel and he struggles to tell you the truth and open up, leaving you with a broken heart.

Chapter Warnings: language, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, mountains of angst, jealousy, reader has long-ish hair, reader falls down into a shame spiral where she compares herself to a prostitute

WC: 5.9K

Series Masterlist

You had never felt more stupid or naive in your life.

How could you let this happen? How could you allow yourself to be put in this position, knowing deep down you would ultimately get hurt? And the worst part was, you had no one to blame but yourself. Joel was upfront from the very beginning. He was paying you to pretend to be his significant other and he repeatedly drew the line in the sand, refusing over and over again to take things further with you. But you just kept pushing and pushing and he eventually caved, your persistence finally wearing him down. And after everything, after he told you he had never been in love, after explaining he was only with Tammy for vengeance and then convenience, you still foolishly thought maybe you were different. That maybe you could change him. What the hell had gotten into you? Why couldn't you just do the job you were hired to do, collect your payment and go home?

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing the tears back as you stood over your bed, packing the rest of your belongings before the plane took off in a couple hours. Most of your things were packed, the clothes and accessories Joel and purchased for you before the trip, but you still had to gather all your own personal items. When you pulled your bag from the closet, forgotten and untouched for weeks, you immediately spotted an old, baggy shirt and your favorite pair of jeans. Without even thinking twice, you stripped off the pajamas and underwear that were purchased for you and replaced everything with your own clothes. When you pulled your shirt over your head and looked in the mirror, you took a deep breath and gave yourself a little smile.

This was the girl you knew. This was who you really were. Not some girl who pranced around in lingerie that cost more than a month's rent or a swimsuit that could cover a car payment.

You should have known this life wasn't for you. Joel had called you a hopeless romantic that day on the beach. The same day he got you the pretty pink seashells you now cradled carefully in the palms of your hands.

Maybe he was right.

"Almost ready?"

You jumped at his deep voice in your doorway and nearly dropped the seashells. With extra care, you wrapped them in an old hoodie and buried them in your bag.

"Yeah, almost," you said over your shoulder, pausing a moment when you saw the two white, unopened envelopes filled with tip money you had completely forgotten about.

Joel's arms circled your waist from behind and you quickly closed the bag.

"Feelin' sad it's over?" he asked, lips pressed gently into the crook of your neck. And you knew he meant the trip, but your heart still wrenched in your chest, anyway.

"Uh, yeah," you said, swallowing down the dejection that threatened to crawl up your throat. You carefully pried his hands off you and slipped away to pack your toiletries, leaving him standing there with a confused look on his face.

He watched you as you busied yourself with packing, taking great care to wrap your shampoo and face wash so it wouldn't leak, and he frowned.

"Somethin's up."

You shook your head and pressed your lips together, focus still fixed on your task. "No. Just... like you said. Sad it's over."

Joel ticked his jaw to the side, still not convinced. Then it dawned on him and he slowly sat down on the edge of your bed.

"We never talked last night like I said we would," he said. "'M sorry, I was thinkin' 'bout the land and all the shit I gotta do to finalize the sale... we'll talk on the plane, alright? Promise, baby."

For some reason, hearing him call you baby made your stomach turn and you instantly bristled.

"Uh, no, it's fine," you insisted, tucking your hair behind your ear when you bent over to shove your toiletries into your bag. "Nothing to talk about, it was stupid."

And now, it really did seem stupid. Admitting you would have come there without being paid just for him to lie and break your heart hours later?

But, shit... it was still true. Even after he lied, you still didn't want any of his money. He could keep it all if it meant he would open up and let you in.

"Wasn't stupid," Joel finally said softly. He was beginning to worry now. Something wasn't right and it was making his pulse race. When you breezed past him to gather the things from your nightstand, he grabbed your wrist and spun you around. Reluctantly, you met his eye and he imploringly gazed up at you.

"Talk to me."

You inhaled a shaky breath and dropped your chin to your chest. "Joel... I still have to pack-"

"I don't care," he said sternly, "I got people to do that for us. Why ain't you lookin' at me?"

Nerves shot through your limbs, fingers beginning to shake so you curled them into fists. You had to bring it up one way or another, right?

The words tumbled out before you could stop them.

"Why won't you tell me what happened with your daughter?"

Once the words left your lips, the room instantly felt colder, his grip felt tighter, and your muscles stiffened in anticipation.

"What?" he asked, his voice so low and his tone so icy that it sent a shiver down your spine. You shifted nervously from foot to foot, eyes still pinned to the floor.

"Why won't-"

"I fuckin' heard you," he snapped, dropping your wrists and standing up. "Who told you?"

You swallowed tightly and took a few steps backwards.

"Tammy."

Joel practically growled with rage as he began to pace around your room, the area that once felt so spacious and luxurious now felt so small and cold. He grumbled under his breath and dragged his hand through his hair, curls sticking up in odd directions when he turned on you with a look that could melt steel.

"The hell you talkin' to her for?"

Of all the things for him to say, you didn't expect that.

"What do you - she came at me last night! She threatened to tell Glenn about your daughter and brother and I had to pretend like I already knew!"

Tears welled up in your eyes and your hands pressed protectively against your chest.

"I was helping you, Joel. I stopped her from ruining this deal for you." And you hated the way your voice wobbled when you said, "I was doing my job."

His eyes flashed with anger when he stopped a few feet away from you with his hands propped on his hips.

"You shoulda came to get me. This didn't have anythin' to do with you," he told you. You winced and looked back down at the floor, unable to stop yourself from taking it personally.

"Why does Tammy know more about your family than I do?" you asked, your voice so small and weak it was borderline embarrassing.

"'Cause-" he cut himself off, swiping his palm over his mouth while he stared at you, wrestling with his anger and his feelings all at once.

"'Cause it ain't part of the deal?" you offered bitterly, just as surprised as him at the quick change in your tone. And because he was foolish and always quick to anger, he took the bait.

"Yeah, 'cause it ain't part of the deal," he huffed, narrowing his eyes at you.

"But it was part of her deal," you pointed out. At that, Joel rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air.

"The hell you want from me?" he asked, voice rising now. "I told you 'bout her, told you what happened-"

"And you told me she was the only reason you felt you weren't a 'good man'!" you shouted with air quotes, your heartbreak bleeding into anger. "You fucking lied to me, Joel!"

"My family ain't none of your goddamn business!" he shouted back, the look in his eye and the sting of his words making you falter for a moment. "If I wanted to tell you, I woulda told you!"

"That's the problem, isn't it? You don't want to tell me anything! It's like pulling teeth with you, Joel, I swear to god..."

You pushed past him to shove the remaining items from your end table recklessly into your bag while he stalked after you.

"You wanna know 'bout my daughter? 'Bout my brother? Will that make you happy?" he yelled, his face growing hot and his eyes flickering with anger as he towered over you. You spun around with your arms crossed, refusing to let him intimidate you. But before you could shoot back an answer, he kept going.

"You wanna know how I abandoned my kid? You want me to tell you how I turned my back on my brother, let him lose his goddamn business? Huh?"

You blinked and shook your head, stunned.

"W-what?"

"Yeah, that's right," he sneered, turning away momentarily before twisting back around to face you. "This is why I don't do shit like this. 'Cause of the look you're givin' me right now."

You were speechless. You couldn't think of a single thing to say to make the situation better, so you kept your mouth shut and held back your tears while he cursed under his breath and tried not to yank his hair out at the root. When it became apparent you had no fight left in you, he twisted his wrist to look at the time with a scowl, then haphazardly picked up your bag from the bed and tossed it on the ground next to the others.

"We're leavin' in half an hour, be ready," he muttered, then slammed your door behind him after he disappeared into the hallway.

You let the tears fall, then. Only when he was gone and couldn't see. You buried your face in your hands and fell to your knees next to your things and sobbed as silently as possible, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you so hurt.

When you found a break in the sadness after taking a deep breath and drying your cheeks, you righted your bag only to hear shards of something delicate rattling inside. You frantically dug around and found the pink seashells all but destroyed and another wave of tears washed over you, only that time you didn't try to hide it. You sobbed openly while clutching the pieces to your chest, rocking back and forth, hoping to ease the pain somehow, but nothing helped.

Nothing could put the seashells or your heart back together.

Panic seized his throat approximately four minutes after he slammed his door, storming into his bedroom and muttering angrily under his breath until the clouds cleared and he realized his mistake.

His huge, fat, monstrous fucking mistake.

The hurt he carried with him about Sarah and Tommy wasn't meant to be unloaded onto you. It was something he was responsible for and something he had to deal with. It wasn't fair to snap at you the way he did just because he felt shame. He was taken off-guard, shocked that you knew anything about them in the first place, and he lashed out. Everything between you was so new, he was too scared to tell you the truth.

But it ultimately didn't matter.

He pushed you away, like he always did. He wasn't honest, you called him out on it, and he fought back like a petulant child.

And now he was going to lose you.

He whipped out his phone and typed out a quick text to his assistant, Liam.

What should I do for a girl when I've fucked things up beyond recognition?

He waited for a response and stared listlessly out the window, fingers tapping anxiously against his leg until he heard something. He rushed to his door and pressed his ear against the wood, brows furrowing as he tried to pinpoint the sound. Then his chest ached when he heard your muffled crying from across the hall.

Are we talking Chanel bag fucked up Cartier watch fucked up?

Joel frowned at his screen before replying, remembering the relaxed outfit you were wearing when he walked into your room earlier. They were definitely not clothes he bought. He already knew, but you weren't the type of person who cared about stuff like that.

I have no idea which one of those is better or worse. I fucked up big time but I don't think designer shit's the answer.

Then something sentimental. Something that means something to her. Or the both of you, if that's possible.

Joel rolled his eyes before tapping out a thanks and sliding the phone back into his pocket. Right before he was about to step out into the hall, his phone buzzed again.

And say you're sorry. Feels like that's a given but who knows with you.

Liam had been Joel's assistant for almost a decade. He knew Joel would never fire him because he was just too damn good at his job, and he loved to wield his power whenever moments arose to do so.

A simple apology wouldn't be enough. He needed to do more. But he was so fucking terrible at this, so rusty, he could hardly even remember what it was like to be in a legitimate relationship.

Was that was this was? He never had the chance to ask. And now he could feel it slipping through his fingers, just like the sand on the beach that day he kissed you in the ocean, or the powdered paint used to decorate your faces.

Joel swung his door open, ready to barge back into your room, take you into his arms and apologize until you either accepted it or screamed at him to stop. But when he stepped across the hall, your room was empty. Your bags were gone.

He hurried into the living room to find you tugging at your luggage, hair all wild and covering most of your tear soaked face as you struggled to get your bags closer to the door.

"Darlin', you don't gotta do that, the crew'll get all this shit," he reminded you, purposely softening his voice. He rubbed at his chest as he approached, ready to apologize, but the minute he got a good look at your face, he knew it was no use. Your eyes were all puffy and filled with rage when your head snapped up to look at him.

"I don't need you or your people to help me," you hissed, angrily swiping at your hair. He held out his hands in surrender, hoping you could see how sorry he was, but you just swiveled away to grab your bag and toss it over your shoulder.

"Wait, can we talk-"

"I'll be in the lobby," you said bitterly, and before he could say anything else, you disappeared out into the hall and the door had swung shut.

Admittedly, you had envisioned using the bed on Joel's private jet for something far more fun than lying there staring at the ceiling with eyes so dry and raw, they felt like sandpaper. Yet that was exactly how you found yourself three hours into the flight, unable to find peace or rest, your argument playing on a loop in your head.

Then, of course, came the intrusive thoughts.

Were you no better than a whore? Technically, you slept with a man who was paying you for your companionship. Wasn't that the very definition of a prostitute?

Joel only carried on a relationship with Tammy when it was convenient and the moment she started to develop feelings, he cut her off. You were certainly convenient, sleeping right across the hall, practically throwing yourself at him. And although he could probably sense you wanted more from him, that you were feeling something more but too afraid to admit, at least you never got to the point where you put yourself out there. At least you still had some dignity intact.

Somewhat.

You rolled over with a frustrated groan, savoring the feeling of the expensive, buttery soft sheets against your skin, knowing in a few short hours you would be back to the worn out cotton set you had bought back in college.

The luxury items were nice, but you could live without them. There was only one thing on that plane you really wanted, but your mind won the battle over your heart: you wouldn't let him hurt you again. He told you exactly who he was, and you didn't believe him.

You wouldn't make that mistake again.

But that didn't stop your heart from splintering in your chest every time you thought about the way his lips felt against your neck, or the sweet things he whispered in your ear - my girl, all fuckin' mine, you got me, or the way he took such gentle care of you after the incident with Brooks.

He was a good man, deep down.

No, he was a fucking asshole and a liar.

With a heavy sigh, you sat up in bed and fixed your hair, bending over to look in the mirror by the closet at your appearance and swiping the pad of your finger underneath both eyes, as if it made any difference, before straightening up and opening the door.

Joel sat with his head in his hands in front of his glowing laptop. He didn't hear the door open at first, so you paused, taking a rare moment to study him when his guard was down. His shoulders looked heavy, fingers curling into his hair as if he were in pain, and his leg bounced wildly underneath the table. If you didn't know any better, he looked conflicted. Like he was wrapped in guilt and self-pity.

You tossed your hair over your shoulder and lifted your chin high. It's not about you. He's working. It's probably about some bullshit with work. Don't do this to yourself again. Don't think you're something to him when you're not.

You stared at him a minute longer, anger bubbling up inside you again, but this time your anger was directed inward. Why, after he lied to you, after he said his family ain't none of your business and if I wanted to tell you, I woulda told you and it ain't part of the deal, did you stand there wishing you could climb into his lap and bury your face against his neck? Breathe him in and let him fill you? Whisper your names into each other's mouths and scrape your nails over his scalp just to hear him groan?

You must have made a noise, or maybe he was developing a sixth sense because suddenly his hands dropped, his leg froze, and his eyes snapped up to meet yours. Your gaze darted nervously around the plane, squinting out the window through the clouds as if you could tell where you were as you flew over the entire goddamn ocean, before finding his eyes again.

"Get any sleep?" he asked. His voice was raspy from disuse and you rolled your shoulders, trying to physically rid your body of the effect those three simple words had on you.

"No," you replied before slumping down into a chair on the other side of the cabin, furthest away from him. You tucked your fist under your chin and gazed tiredly out the window. Joel's eyes could have burned holes into your head from the way he was staring at you, scanning you, trying to come up with the right combination of words that would take back everything he said, until finally he cracked.

"Please talk to me."

Your eyelids fluttered closed at the soft desperation in his tone, throat feeling like someone's fingers were squeezing around it.

"There's nothing to talk about."

Joel huffed and stood, joints cracking from sitting in the same position for too long. In three long strides, he dropped himself into the seat across from you.

"You had questions. Lemme answer 'em."

You opened your eyes and forced yourself to look at him. Up close, he looked disheveled. A little rattled, maybe. But mostly determined.

"You said it yourself. If you wanted to tell me, you would've. If she never said anything to me, would you have told me you had a daughter?"

His mouth opened and closed for a moment, considering his answer.

"No," he finally replied. You rolled your eyes and turned your head away, neck straining at an impossible angle so you could stare out the window and avoid seeing him in your peripheral vision. "But not for the reasons you think."

"Yeah? You have no idea what I'm thinking," you muttered.

"What happened was... it's a long story, but-"

"But you told Tammy," you snapped, eyes still glued to the clouds.

"I've known both of 'em for years-"

"You said you didn't care for her that way, yet she knows so much about you," you rambled, too lost in your own anger and jealousy now.

"Can you let me-"

"God, I'm so fucking stupid. This was a huge mistake-"

"Will you let me fuckin' finish?" Joel asked, voice rising and purposely cutting you off before you could finish the sentence that might shatter his heart for good.

You whipped your head around, nostrils flaring and brows sewn together into a glare. Joel just stared right back, his chest rising a little faster under his button down shirt, dark eyes looking stormier than usual. When too much time had passed, you raised your eyebrows and wiggled your head from side to side expectantly. Go on, speak. He took a deep breath and pressed his back firmly into the plush leather chair before continuing.

"I've known her and Scott for a long time. They knew 'bout Sarah years ago. And, yeah, when I was younger and fuckin' stupid, I told both of 'em too much 'bout me. But I couldn't tell you, 'cause-"

He cut himself off, swallowing the lump in his throat as you stared one another down.

"'Cause I care what you think. 'Bout me. I care what you think 'bout me. Don't care what she thinks. Just you."

Sarah. Joel. Sarah and Joel, Joel and Sarah.

Just you.

Your eyes pinched shut and your shoulders sagged, the emotional whiplash finally taking its toll.

"I can tell you, if you want," Joel offered. His hands were fidgeting in his lap as he searched for any possible sign that he was breaking through.

"If I want. But you don't want to, right?"

Your voice sounded so small, you barely recognized it.

When he didn't answer, you lifted your chin and opened your eyes. You watched his throat bob and his lips purse before giving you a defeated look and slowly shook his head. At least he didn't lie again.

You bit your lower lip and nodded. You'd had enough.

"Then don't. Doesn't make a difference now, anyway," you told him. Reaching for your bag, you pulled out some earbuds and a hoodie, muttering angrily to yourself when you found it inside out.

Joel just watched, dejected and lost, too out of his element to undo the damage he caused as you yanked the hoodie over your head and popped your earbuds in. Once you reclined your chair and closed your eyes, he got the message.

He would just have to accept it was over.

When you finally fell into a restless slumber, you dreamt. You dreamt about a pair of soulful brown eyes, strong hands and a smile that made you weak in the knees.

The worst I'll ask is for you to hold my hand and the occasional kiss.

Only it wasn't just that, was it? It was secret touches that blossomed into flirty kisses when no one was around until the tension broke and he turned your world upside down with his deep laugh, sweet touch and torn knuckles.

Then you dreamt of broken seashells, salty tears, and you were hired to look pretty and act like you're in love with me. Everythin' else is none of your goddamn business.

He tried to warn you, you gave him that. He tried to push you away, but you persisted. You were foolish and had no idea what you were getting yourself into, and now you were left with a broken heart, heading back to Los Angeles to an empty apartment.

Joel was unavailable, plain and simple. He had a fortress built around himself that was impossible to tear down, and even though he offered to let you in, give you the grand tour, it wasn't genuine. He didn't offer because he wanted you in, he offered because it was what you wanted. And maybe to assuage his own guilt.

The flight crew woke you up when dinner was ready. You groggily sat up and tried to force feed yourself some chicken, something you assumed Joel had ordered for you, but you hardly made it halfway through before giving up.

He glanced at you occasionally but he kept to himself. He focused intently on his laptop or phone while you tried to find something to distract yourself with on TV.

When the flight crew announced you'd be landing in half an hour, Joel straightened up and began to look a little panicked, like maybe he had been expecting you to cave, trapped on his private jet with him, and you never did. And now you'd be landing soon, his chances dwindling.

"I ain't good at this," he said out of the blue. You just shrugged and kept your gaze fixed on the television.

"I noticed."

His fingers rapped impatiently on the table.

"What if we started over?"

Curiosity got the best of you and you rolled your head to the side to look at him with a raised eyebrow, which he took that as an invitation to keep talking.

"We didn't meet on the right terms. This wasn't -"

He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair.

"I don't do relationships," he began again, and at that you scoffed.

"I'm very aware of that, too."

He narrowed his eyes at your dry tone. "But you do."

You frowned and turned back to gaze blankly at the TV. "Yes, Joel. Like most normal people, I have relationships."

"Alright. What if I'd be willin' to try somethin' like that? For you? Start over and do it right?" he asked hopefully.

"Then I would say twenty four hours ago, that was exactly what I wanted to hear," you said coldly. You saw him stand out of the corner of your eye and find a swivel chair closer to where you sat on the couch.

"And now?"

The deep timber of his voice had you taking a moment to breathe deep and collect yourself. You could smell his cologne, the one you never got the name of but would spend two hours one day in the near future trying to find it in a department store just so you could smell him again.

"And now..." you echoed, your brain tossing around various replies until you settled on, "I don't know."

He inched forward on the chair and glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were alone before saying, "Listen, baby. I'm sorry. I'm so unbelievably fuckin' sorry that it makes me want to pluck by goddamn eyes out. I wanna make this right. Just tell me what to do."

The pilot announced your decent and you sat up to buckle yourself in.

"I'm not going to force you into opening up for me, Joel," you said, clicking your seatbelt loudly before meeting his eye. "You can tell me everything about you. Every ugly, horrible, nasty little thing. But unless you really want to tell me, unless you trust me and care for me enough to not judge you for it, I don't want to hear it."

His eyes dropped sadly to the floor and he nodded. He lied to you already, and he wasn't going to sit there and lie again. But maybe one day he would grow into a better person, someone who would want to share the terrible things they've done with someone they care for and trust they wouldn't think any less of him.

But today was not the day.

He sat back in his chair and you kept your focus on the television as the plane landed and began to screech to a halt. When it slowed, you leaned forward to put your earbuds and book away, then frowned when you saw the pieces of pink seashells still scattered around the bottom of your bag.

You began to scoop them up and Joel watched you curiously, ignoring the flight crew flitting around and doing all their checks.

When your hands emerged from the bag holding the broken pink pieces, he found himself lurching forward.

"They broke?" he asked, feeling far more sentimental about it than he ever expected.

You nodded and dumped them into a small trash can within reach. "When you threw my bag on the floor earlier."

Joel froze and scanned his memory. When did he throw your bag? Then he remembered angrily storming out of your room and haphazardly tossing your bag off your bed to join the rest by the door, not thinking anything of it at the time.

"Fuck," he muttered, dragging his palms roughly over his face. Yet another mistake. "Darlin', I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," you told him, cutting him off when you unbuckled your seatbelt to stand. You caught the look he gave you and you shrugged. "Really, it's fine. I'm over it."

You slung your bag over your shoulder and headed for the exit. Joel stood to follow you, glancing forlornly at the garbage one more time before swiping his wallet and phone from the table next to his laptop.

He nodded to his driver, who stood obediently next to the open car door where you had disappeared inside.

"Richie," Joel greeted him with a firm handshake. Richie smiled before holding out his arm and stepping to the side.

"Congratulations, sir. You must be thrilled."

Joel gave him a curt nod and ducked inside the backseat of the car. Thrilled? No, he was hardly thrilled. A day ago he was thrilled. A day ago he had it all. But now? He had the land, sure. He was bound to make a mountain of money off the new hotel, his business would thrive and his hotel would become a household name.

But it didn't make him happy. Not the way it used to.

"Here," you said after ten minutes of driving in silence. He turned and felt his heart skip a beat when you held out your ring. Slowly, he unfurled his fist to open his palm so you could drop it in his hand. Joel gazed down at it, the gold still warm, and wondered how long it would take for the tightness in his chest to ease.

"I'll have someone drop the clothes and stuff off sometime next week," he murmured, sliding the ring into his inside jacket pocket. It felt like a goddamn weight pressing into chest.

"Keep them," you replied, still facing away from him so you could stare out the window at the quiet, dark streets.

"Part of the contract. They're yours," he reminded you.

"I don't care. I don't have the room for them. Besides, where the hell am I going to wear a designer dress? To the grocery store?"

Joel dropped his gaze to the seat, staring at the space between you. It was only a handful of inches but it felt like miles.

"The money'll be wired tomorrow," he said, clenching his teeth when Richie turned onto your street.

"Keep that, too."

His head whipped around, eyes narrowing into a glare. "No."

"I don't want it, Joel," you insisted as you unbuckled your seatbelt. The car came to a stop and Joel shot his arm out to stop you.

"Richie, give us a second."

The driver immediately stepped out of the car and leaned against the hood to light a cigarette. You fixated on the bright orange glow so you didn't have to look at Joel.

"You're takin' the money," he told you firmly. "You ain't got a job and we signed a goddamn contract. Quit bein' so stubborn."

You sniffled and gathered your bag.

"If you send it, I'm asking my bank to reject it," you replied. Joel groaned and twisted to the side to face you.

"Why? Why are you fightin' me on this?"

"Because!" you exclaimed, emotions getting the best of you. Finally, your watery eyes found his. "Because I can't take it! Not after everything -"

Your voice caught in your throat and your lower lip trembled. Joel's eyebrows pulled together, stomach feeling like it was filled with cement as he fought the urge to cup your face and pull you into his chest.

You took a deep, steadying breath and then temporarily collected yourself.

"I signed that contract before I knew you," you said quietly. "But now... I ... I just can't." I don't want your money, I just want you.

You reached for the door handle, hellbent on leaving before he could see you cry, but his voice stopped you.

"The money's goin' in tomorrow. If you feel that strongly 'bout it, give it to charity or somethin'. But you're gettin' that money."

Before you could respond, you heard him shuffle in his seat and open his door, telling you to stay put, that he would walk you up. And in the brief few seconds it took him to round the car and shoo Richie away from your door, you tossed the two unopened envelopes onto his seat.

The door opened and you hurried out, clutching your bag tightly against your side and jogging up the few stairs to your building.

With shaky hands, you unlocked the door and took a step inside. You weren't sure what made you do it, but before you let go of the door, you turned to look at him one last time.

He stood at the bottom of your steps, staring up at you with his hands shoved into the pockets of his tailored pants. It took him no time at all to lose the casual attire and slip back into suits that probably cost thousands. Even after everything, part of you still wanted him. The pieces of you he did allow you to see were good and fun and sweet.

But just pieces wouldn't do.

"Goodbye, Joel," you said, pretending that your voice didn't crack or that a tear didn't sneak down your cheek. He didn't reply. He just continued to watch you from the sidewalk until you turned and disappeared inside, into an elevator and back into your tiny apartment to cry yourself to sleep.

He didn't say goodbye because he wasn't done. He had already decided hours ago.

He was going to do whatever he had to do to win you back.

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #joel miller au #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us au #swept away fic

806 notes · View notes

findbusiness4sale · 2 years ago

Text

Businesses for sale in Calgary

Liquor store for sale in Calgary

Convenience store for sale in Calgary

Car wash for sale in Calgary

#Business for sale in Calgary #Businesses for sale in Calgary #Franchise for sale in Calgary #Car wash for sale in Calgary #Gas station for sale in Calgary #Restaurant for sale in Calgary #Pizza store for sale in Calgary #Liquor store for sale in Calgary #Convenience store for sale in Calgary

1 note · View note

itostea · 10 months ago

Text

my first & last love (gojo x reader)

satoru realizes he's in love with you after you suggest he set you up with suguru

tags: fem! reader, Gojo praises you like A LOT! slight miscommunications, childhood friends to lovers, reader gets drunk & satoru helps, he's a lovesick idiot & dramatic, both yours & his pov, gojo’s implied to be taller than reader, slightly suggestive bc it’s gojo, slight angst

word count: 11k

The first time Gojo Satoru learned true, unadulterated jealousy was on a Friday night out in his sports car–the crickets chirping to the melody of a random song.

It was real jealousy—not just simple, petty envy. Not like the envy he felt when someone got to taste the limited edition cupcakes at the bakery before he did or the envy of studying hard and getting a lower score than someone who didn’t (which is a lie because Gojo was that very person who was effortlessly good at everything he did).

Either way, he’s never felt the bite of jealousy, breaking the flesh as blood drips slowly, lingering as if it could never be washed away from his skin. Never felt it smother his throat with needles and leave him with a metallic taste in his mouth. That is, until today.

It was colder than usual but he still insisted on grabbing some ice-cream from the local convenience store, declaring it was his your reward for putting up with the party Sukuna hosted–the same party that ended in your dress being soaked in vomit. The atmosphere was perfect for sentiment, for talking–for confessing.

You’re humming to the beat of the song, licking your lips clean of the ice cream you just ate. “Satoru,” you murmur his name softly, staring at him through your lashes.

“Yeah?” His eyes drink in the sight of you: your droopy eyes from sleep, the faded lip tint on your lips, the hoodie he let you borrow that’s obviously a few sizes too big on you. There’s hardly any light coming in but he can still feel your eyes on him, the tension so thick he thinks he might suffocate from it.

For a moment, he’s scared, fearful of what you were going to say because he knows this silence. This is the very silence that happens before someone confesses to him, the same suspense that he has to mentally prepare himself for since he knew he was going to break another heart. And he’s terrified that he might have to do it to you–his friend, his neighbor, someone who he’s known for a very long time.

“I need to tell you something,” you start and he winces, shifting uncomfortably on the driver’s seat.

“You do?” He mutters. You’re nervous. He can tell because he’s known you long enough to understand what you’re feeling–long enough to know that your eyes are darting from place to place, a habit of yours.

His chest squeezes when you take a deep breath just as he exhales, already making his mind to grant you a swift rejection. He hopes you can forgive him after this.

“--I like Getou and I need your help.”

“Listen, I’m sorry but I just don’t see you that way–”

He blinks, wondering if he heard you right or if he was drunk (he didn’t drink at the party because he was your ride home). “Wait what?”

It was your turn to blink now. “I like Getou and I–”

“I heard you the first time,” he cuts you off hastily, clearing his throat to play it cool. He runs a hand through his hair, grazing the side of his undercut. “Okay wow.”

Gojo mentally curses himself for not knowing what else to say other than humming pensively, busying himself by mixing the ice-cream in the tiny container. He still needs time to process, to mentally upload your words to his brain. You like Getou and not him? He pauses, repeating that thought again.

You like Getou and not him. Part of him tells himself that this is exactly what he wanted since your friendship wouldn’t go to ruin. You managed not to catch feelings for him–managed not to fall for him like many others. Yet, he’s confused when another part of him doesn’t respond too well once he realizes that this was you he was dealing with.

“That’s not weird right?” You question, bringing your knees up to your chest and propping your chin atop of them to watch his reaction–reminding him to keep it cool.

“Nah it’s not weird at all,” he said, not thinking straight when his next words escaped his lips. “So why Suguru?” And not me? Though, he keeps that last part to himself.

“Well isn’t it obvious? He’s tall, handsome, and has a good personality.”

Am I not that? He asks himself, not bothered by how stuck up he may seem. “That’s not very specific from someone who likes him.”

You huff and he can tell you’re narrowing your eyes at him. “I know you don’t wanna hear me yap about the specifics, Satoru.”

“I do.” He says quickly.

You make a noise of surprise, looking interested in his sudden intrigue. “Well okay… Suguru’s very caring and attentive. Being around him makes me feel warm inside you know? I’m not sure when I started liking him but I just know that I just really want to be closer to him. And it doesn’t help that he’s just so smart and nice. And his looks are just a bonus.”

“Oh,” he utters, not even bothering to curse himself for his lack of response. He tries a weak smile. “You must really like him.”

Gojo can’t help but furrow his brows at the semi-embarrassed expression you wear—as if you were flustered at the mere thought of having a crush. “Oh, was I that obvious?” You ask, not even bothering to deny the fact that you were undoubtedly head over heels for his best friend.

Oh god, he thinks he might be sick and he doesn’t know why.

“Are you going to help me?” Your voice cuts him out of his reverie and he’s cut back into reality–the reality being the anticipation in your eyes. Did you always look this pretty?

Gojo nearly flinches at the thoughts that cross his mind, blaming the unprocessed shock for being the cause of these obscure ideas. He coughs. “Hold on. So you don’t like me right?”

“What? No I–” your eyes widen in understanding. “Oh so that’s what that was all about. You thought the person I liked was you! How cocky can you be to think everyone’s in love with you?”

“It’s not cocky if it’s true. I’m just really lovable y’know?”

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “That can’t be true since I’m not everyone.”

I know, he thinks to himself, staying silent as he watches you shuffle in your seat. He didn’t just dislike this idea you proposed, he hated it. It wasn’t hard to just decline and keep it like that–let you figure your feelings on your own.

Yet, something about the near-pleading look in your eyes made him reconsider and it filled him with an urge to smooth the wrinkles on your expression. He sighs loudly, rubbing the invisible crease in between his brows. “Well I guess you came to the right person because I’m an expert at this. 5 star ratings and all that. But what makes you think I’m going to do this for free?”

“Uh the goodness of your heart?”

“Cute,” he laughs. “But no. I want a coffee from the place everyday for a month.”

“What?! Are you insane? That means I’d have to wake up early everyday to get in line!”

He shakes his head, waving his finger around with a disappointed expression. “A small price for love.”

“I don’t understand why you even need me for that. You can buy the whole shop yourself, ass,” you whisper the last part behind your palm, making his eyes light up in amusement.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Actually you know what? Fine,” you huff. “You’re right. It is a small price for love. But I’m not walking back and forth around campus to deliver your coffee.”

“I got that covered,” he grins, already coming up with a plan in his head. He likes this, the banter you two typically enjoyed. It made your duo, a duo. In a normal situation, he’d relax and continue bothering you. Still, the feeling of dread gnaws at his throat and he tries to swallow it–tries to ignore it by pretending to be the same, goofy Gojo you’re used to. And he’s starting to think it’s hard to do that when you look up at him with such genuine gratitude.

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you, I mean it.”

Gojo feels that emotion again, that visceral feeling where he might go sick and vomit all over the car. “Yeah.”

He thinks he would’ve preferred if you confessed to him instead.

Gojo wonders if stress (if you can call that) is enough to make someone wake up with a hangover the next day. He didn’t drink last night but he thinks he might have–considering the headache that was interrupting his morning.

He’s in the middle of downing a glass of water when his phone buzzes, your name popping up as a notification.

(Name): i’m gonna get ur coffee pls come

Him: come ??? cum

(Name): it’s too early to be doing this

He sees the bubbles appear before they disappear for a while, only popping up again when he’s in the middle of cracking an egg over the pan

(Name): SATORU

(Name): OHMYGOD SATORY SOI SOS

Him: WHAT

Him: HELLO???

(Name): GETOUS HERE OMG IM GONNA

(Name): HE SAID HI TO ME

(Name): WHAT DO I DO?

Gojo grips his phone a bit tighter, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He sighs.

Him: say hi back

Him: and then go PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

(Name): no wtf and i meant what do i after this silly

(Name): i don’t know what to do im literally an npc rn

(Name): jk he just said bye :(

Him: should’ve done what i told u to do

Another name pops up from the top and his eyes scan the name, his brows raising in curiosity. He huffs at the message, feeling a wave of nausea cross him.

Suguru: You’re close friends with (Name) right?

Him: yeah why

Suguru: Nothing

It’s silent for a few seconds and Gojo’s back to eating his eggs, tempted to pop a Tylenol to ease the growing headache. Contrary to popular belief, he was against the reliance of pain-relieving meds, opting to let his body figure things out on its own. Luckily for him, having food in his stomach was enough to relieve the headache.

His mind wanders back to the night in the car where you told him to help you with your crush on his best friend–not fully coming to terms with the fact that he wished you liked him instead. Since when did he start feeling this way and why did he need another man to make him realize he liked or even loved you? The thought of anyone having you for themselves was like hearing the sound of nails against a chalkboard and he was jealous. He finally admitted it.

Gojo Satoru wasn’t an idiot when it came to his feelings and he’d be a fool if he kept denying his undeniable irritation that came with your crush for Suguru. He places the unwashed dish atop some other bowls and utensils, reminding himself to get to that later since his priority was not to keep you waiting at the coffee shop.

Another buzz and Satoru nearly trips over his feet at the dread he gets from seeing his best friend’s message. Are you kidding me? He thinks to himself as he reads the message again.

Suguru: She’s cute

Yeah, he thinks he might be sick again.

Music’s playing in the background to substitute the sound of chatter that’d usually fill the room if Shoko were here. It wasn’t rare for Shoko to not flake on parties and it was even rarer for you to leave your comfort zone and go to one–especially the last one hosted by Sukuna; but this one was different. Suguru was the host and you’d be an idiot to miss it.

You flinch at the feeling of your mascara poking the inside of your eye, cursing quietly as you take a q-tip to fix the mistake.

The buzz of your phone makes you freeze.

Gojo: omw to ur house

Gojo: ill be there in 10

You: wait satoru don’t get mad but what do i wear

Gojo: …

Gojo: YOU DIDNT LIKE THINK ABOUT THAT AN HR AGO?

You: I WANNA STAND OUT TO ATTRACT THE LOML OKAY?

You: so i need ur opinion

Gojo: dude

Gojo: ok

Gojo: just wear whatever u want it’ll be fine

You: yeah but what specifically?

Gojo: not smth that makes you look like a grandma

Gojo: like that dress u wore to the last party

Gojo: no offense

You: but i liked that dress :((((

You: was it that bad?? I mean i had to throw it out bc of the vomit anyways

Gojo: it made u look like a grandma but in a good way

You: wow okay thanks

Gojo: you looked nice

Gojo: ANYWAYS

Gojo: a pair of jeans

Gojo: and that light blue long sleeve that shows ur shoulders

You: really?

Gojo: yeah and i’m leaving my apartment now so hurry up

You like the message, tapping your lips to even out the lip tint before you rush to put on the shirt and jeans. Doing a quick double-take in the mirror, you spin once and prop your hands on your hips, snapping a few selfies to commemorate this day.

You’re not sure how much time passes until you hear excessive honking outside, the sound of your phone buzzing as you see Gojo’s caller id. It’s enough to make your eyes roll as you grab your bag–leaving the door locked and the lights off.

Gojo’s grin is boyish and teasing as his eyes scan you from top to bottom. “Oh look at you,” he coos. “You’re actually wearing what I told you to wear.”

“Well I felt like listening today,” you murmur, feeling a small ripple of embarrassment pass you.

“Atta girl.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, feeling a grin form when you hear him chuckle. He puts his car into reverse mode, propping his arm on the top of your seat. Up close, you can get a stronger whiff of his cologne–its musk and earthiness slowing your heartbeat, calming you. Your eyes scan his outfit: a black pullover layered atop white t-shirt, paired with a pair of pants that were on the edge of being joggers and trousers.

On anyone else, the outfit wouldn’t have done them good like it did with Gojo. To your displeasure and awe, he looked effortlessly classy. And if he noticed your lingering gaze, he didn’t mention it.

“What’s your game plan?” His voice draws you back to reality and you watch as he sets the car back into drive mode.

“Game plan?”

“That’s right,” he glances at you, his shades sliding lower on his nose bridge. “Your plan to seduce the love of your life.”

“I’m not going to seduce him!” You gape, narrowing your eyes at his widening smile. His hand reaches down to turn the volume of the song a bit louder, stopping at the upcoming red light.

“I’m just joking with you,” he laughs, his eyebrows furrowing slightly before that smile returns to his face, not quite meeting his eyes like it usually does. He sighs before breaking into a laugh that almost sounds bitter. “I’d pay to see that though.”

At the party, you’d imagine yourself “mingling” with the crowd and letting loose–being the life of the party. Unfortunately for you, your feet are still stuck on the kitchen floor and you’re glued to Gojo’s side. You’d like to blame it on the vomit incident from Sukuna’s party and you’re fortunate enough to not be known as the “girl that someone threw up on.”

Either way, you weren’t especially fond of the fact that you were keeping Gojo from having fun somewhere else. Like in one of the unoccupied rooms upstairs or in the living room playing some drinking games. It’s enough to make you feel somewhat guilty and suddenly regretful that you even came to this party.

You tap his shoulder in the kitchen, offering him a reassuring smile. “Satoru. You don’t have to stay with me. I can manage myself!”

“That’s what you said last time,” he chuckles, rummaging through Getou’s fridge to search for something sweet, frowning when he sees traditional Japanese snacks that his grandparents would eat. “What the hell?” He murmurs to himself.

“I mean it,” you say, taking a few steps back. “You have some fun. I don’t want to bother you too much.”

“You’re not–”

“Satoru. (Name),” a velvety voice greets, all too familiar. A warmth spreads over you. “You made it.”

“Getou,” you murmured to yourself, glancing at Gojo who was already staring at you.

For a second, you see a subtle tick in his jaw, a sight you blame on the lighting since he’s back to normal the moment he turns to face Getou. He grins that teasing smile of his. “Suguru.”

“You looking through my fridge again, Satoru?” The brunette huffs, kicking the fridge’s door shut lightly–exchanging the grin with his friend. Your heart squeezes as he casts a lingering look at you, his smile polite. “Hey (Name). Good seeing you here.”

“Huh?” You perk up. “Oh you too?”

You inwardly curse at yourself for how awkward you were, giving Gojo a scathing look as he hides his laughter behind his palm. Luckily for you, Getou’s sweet and he was also good at redirecting topics. “You want something to drink?”

“Oh sure,” you blink, offering a thankful smile. “Thank you Getou–”

“Suguru.”

You pause, cocking your head to the side in confusion. “Sorry?”

“Call me Suguru,” he hands you a red, plastic cup–his smile pretty enough to make your breath hitch. “We’ve known each other long enough.”

You feel your heart race as he looks at you expectantly, as if you knew what he wanted you to do next. You fidget, suddenly more bashful at the attention he was giving you. “Thank you Suguru.”

“No problem,” he smiles and you like how he looks satisfied with you. He hands another red cup to Satoru who stood beside you, the sarcastic grin of his returning. You take a tentative sip of the booze, watching curiously as Satoru and Suguru talked amongst themselves–reconnecting despite seeing each other only a day ago.

You observe the two of them, mapping the details of Suguru’s face before your eyes land on Satoru–suddenly aware of the fact that the boy you spent most of your youth with grew up. Sure, you know that his face attracts attention from everyone but that was a token from childhood. It just didn’t hit you that he matured, grew up to be the man most would dream of dating. The realization is to make you wonder if Gojo ever registered the fact that you were growing too.

Slowly, you take another sip of your drink, blinking slowly as the alcohol settles in your system. Gojo’s the first to notice when you stumble, how your skin seems to heat up. “Hey hey,” he holds you by the shoulders, his voice soft. And if you paid closer attention, you would’ve seen the way Getou’s brows raised at how gentle his friend was acting towards you. “You okay?”

Amidst your drunken state, you realize that Gojo didn’t bother drinking any of the liquor in his cup during his conversation with Suguru. And Suguru. Sweet Suguru who puts the pieces together and confirms that you’re a lightweight, the guilt evident in his expression. “Oh shit. I forgot how strong this liquor is.”

“I’m okay,” you mumble and step forward, ready to excuse yourself to the restroom. Gojo looks like he’s about to say something until a group of unfamiliar faces barge into the kitchen, their faces bright as they greet Getou and Gojo with intentions to keep them occupied. Among the chatter and crowd, you find it easy to slip away–rushing to find a restroom.

The first one you went in was already used by a couple that you remembered mumbling apologies to. The others were either locked or used. At some point, your gut told you to go upstairs and you staggered into an unoccupied bathroom where you splashed cold water on your face–sighing at how nice it felt against your skin.

The music’s only a fraction of its noise from up here and you’re surprised that there’s not much of a group upstairs. There’s a funny feeling in your stomach as you crouch slightly, mentally cursing yourself for downing the whole cup so quickly, ruining your chances to talk with Suguru–coherently at least. Part of you wants to sulk over your spoiled opportunities but another part of you just wants to crash on the tiled floor and sleep–rest your eyes for a bit.

You’re thankful your mind was still conscious enough to rationalize the unsanitary conditions of the bathroom floor, opting to curl up in one of the hallways instead–shivering at the feeling of cold marble beneath you. Your eyes droop, a yawn escaping you. And you’re almost certain you would’ve fallen asleep if not for the gentle shaking of your shoulders.

“Stop,” you whine softly, your vision blurry as you catch a glimpse of hair the color of snow and a pair of worried filled blue eyes. Your protests turn quickly to bemusement. “Satoru? What are you doing here?”

You think he smiles as he kneels down on one knee to be eye level with you. “How about I get you off the ground first?”

“I don’t wanna. Let me sleep here,” you shake your head, ignoring how your body felt warm at how softly he treated you.

“C’mon,” he chuckles. “The ground’s dirty. Let's get you to a bed at least.”

In your drunken state, your mind still decides it favors a soft comforter over cold marble and you see his eyes soften when you go limp in his arms–letting him lift you from the ground. “Good girl.”

Your mind goes fuzzy at the sound of that and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or something else that makes your temperature rise. In that simple moment, you let his arms wrap around you, cradling you to his chest as he makes his way downstairs. All your thoughts stop as your eyes close, drowning the sound of the party out as you permit sleep to take over. His hands give your thighs an occasional squeeze, the gesture oddly intimate yet you don’t bother questioning it or objecting to it.

Even with the veil of sleep dropping on your form, you still recognize Suguru’s voice as he tells Satoru to take care of you, his tone apologetic–having been the one to give you the liquor. They talk for a bit and once more, you feel the bounce of each step as he carries you out the house.

You’re barely awake when Gojo puts you in the passenger seat and you feel disappointment wash over you when he stops holding you. You’re not sure when you grabbed onto the sleeve of his shirt, your eyes half-lidded as you peered up at him. “Don’t go.”

A noise of protest escapes your lips when he removes your cold hand from his shirt gently, rather taking it in between his warmer ones. “I won’t.”

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“I like when you compliment me.”

“Oh yeah?” He says, laughing a bit. “It’s hard not to.”

The music and cheers in Suguru’s house are still audible even in Gojo’s car, your vision getting darker and darker with each blink. Still, you can still feel Gojo’s hand gripping yours–his thumb rubbing circles on the skin as you invite sleep back in, taking deep breaths as you breathe in his cologne.

And as sleep came to life, you allowed the dreams to live as well.

Was there such a thing as a relationship between dreams and memories? In moments of delirium, you can’t single out what’s real and what’s not–was it a dream or did it actually happen?

But now that days have passed and you’ve given yourself more time, you’re certain that Gojo was the one who carried you out of the house and spent his night caring for you. So you ruled out the possibility that the night was a dream, rather a memory that made you feel soft inside–grateful yet unsure. And if you wanted to ponder harder, you would’ve done so if not for the hell you were experiencing this week.

Forgetting the content during a quiz. Getting yelled at by your boss. Having stepped in bird shit. Waking up late nearly every day because you’d forget to put your alarm on.

If that wasn’t enough, you got in an argument with your parents over the phone. It was about something stupid and you were so frustrated that you ended up walking to some 7/11–buying yourself an ice-cream to cheer yourself up. The argument was so dumb and you weren’t even sure what you guys were even arguing about. All you knew that you should probably call them later to talk it out; you also knew that this week couldn’t get any worse.

What was Satoru doing right now? You think to yourself, pulling out your phone to check your messages–frowning when you saw none from him. Your eyes land on a message from Suguru, seeing the link he sent you to some video he found funny or intriguing. After the party, you were shocked to see an unknown number texting you, claiming it was Suguru and that Satoru gave your number to him. The day that happened, you texted him using exclamation marks and thanked him–smiling at your phone as you two exchanged witty messages with one another.

You sighed, unlocking your phone and clicking Satoru’s contact and phoning him. You almost hang up after several rings but you hear his voice after the nth ring. “Hello?”

“Satoru?” You say, your voice cracking the second your lips part to speak. You weren’t expecting to cry and neither did Satoru–though you can hear the concern laced in his voice as he questions your whereabouts.

“Where are you sweetheart?” You hear rustling in the background amidst his voice and your sniffles. “I’ll pick you up. Your location’s shared with me right?”

“Mhm,” you wipe your eyes, fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie.

“Okay just stay there and don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in a few. Don’t cry (Name).”

You think you might cry harder with how sweet his voice was.

Satoru thinks he might be the only one who notices the rift between you and him. And he’s not sure if he’s the one causing it or if it’s you. But after that night with you (in his car again), he’s been thinking about how soft you were in his arms; how he liked the way your head drooped against his chest. Or maybe he likes you but he’s not going to think about that unless he wants another headache.

Regardless, he finds himself looking at his phone sporadically, subconsciously eager to see your name pop up unexpectedly–eager for things to go back to normal. Even though you two still speak, he’s almost sure that he’s not imagining the awkward tension in the air.

Was he too intrusive when he carried you out to his car? Were you mad at him because he didn’t leave Suguru and you alone in the kitchen? It was a selfish thing to do, he admits. His original idea was to leave you alone with Suguru so you’d get to chat with him–get to know him like you intended to do at the party; but seeing Suguru give you that sly smile of his was enough to make Gojo ditch his plans of playing Cupid.

If Gojo was a good man, he’d feel happy that you were getting what you wanted since he knew you weren’t the only one interested. Like with the message Suguru sent to Satoru and how he eyed you at the party; how he called Satoru over for a bit and told him that he understood why people liked you or found you attractive; how he commented on how the shirt you wore suited you.

No shit, I picked it, he thought to himself as he recalled that night. Satoru always knew you were beautiful and he hated that everyone else knew too. You weren’t even his yet but he didn’t want to share you–to let anyone else hold you or have you. Seeing you blush and smile shyly at his best friend made him want to puke—made him want to claw his eyes out. That should be him and god he wishes it was.

He was selfish yet he never promised to be good. Yet, this was for you. He wanted you to be happy, is what he told himself whenever he saw you and Suguru talking.

His phone buzzes and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he snatches it, the anticipation in his eyes fading when he sees that it’s Suguru messaging him about the party today. Satoru sighs, rubbing the spot between his brows as he leans on the kitchen counter, suddenly reminded that he planned a party at his place today. It was an impulsive decision to forget about the tension between you two and Satoru’s kinda wishing he took the time to talk it out with you rather than planning something else.

He invited a good amount of people and was going to invite you as well to give him a reason to call you. But lucky for him, you made things easier for him by calling him. Satoru thinks it’s not healthy for his blood temperature to rise just at the sight of your name on his phone and he’s already grinning when he picks up. “Hello?”

“Satoru?”

Oh. He pauses, his brows furrowing at how your voice cracked as you tried to hide your sniffles. His first thought was to wonder who made you sad and he thinks it’s scary how hearing you cry was enough to send his emotions in a frenzy. But you needed him and he didn’t want you to be alone. “Where are you sweetheart?” He asks, the nickname flowing off his tongue before he can stop. “I’ll pick you up. Your location’s shared with me right?”

“Mhm,” You mumbled back and his heart nearly snapped in two with how dejected you sounded. He frowns, grabbing his jacket and his keys–rushing to slip on his sneakers.

“Okay just stay there and don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in a few. Don’t cry (Name).”

You make a sound of understanding and he hangs up, his finger tapping to click on Suguru’s contact. Satoru hears other familiar voices in the background but he doesn’t pay much attention to it.

“What’s up Satoru–?”

“Party’s off.”

“What? Wait what are you–”

“Sorry something came up. I’ll tell you later,” he says, hanging up before his friend can say anything else. He knows he should feel bad for flaking out last minute but his list of priorities had you at the top of it. And he really didn’t care if anyone else would understand.

You’re regretting the choice of shorts in the chilly night air and the ice-cream you ate wasn’t helping you shiver any less.

The way Satoru sounded made that warm, fuzzy feeling settle in your stomach again. He sounded like he would drop whatever he was doing just to get to you and it made you feel special. You think back to the sound of “sweetheart” from his lips, shaking your head when you feel your blood get warm.

“(Name)?” Satoru’s voice startles you from your thoughts and you think the sound of it could erase all your troubles. “You alright?” He asks, shrugging the jacket off his shoulders and draping them over your legs, kneeling down to see your face.

You only nod. “I want to go home.”

“Yeah I can take you back–”

“No,” you shake your head. “Back to your place.”

For a moment, you’ve stunned him but that surprise left as fast as it arrived. He sighs, tapping your knee with his finger. “Usually dinner comes first–”

“Not like that you idiot,” you kick him lightly, a grin forming on your lips. “Your methods of comforting are weird.”

“Yeah?” He laughs, the sound blending with the wind. “Well maybe I’m not trying to comfort you,” he eyes you with a teasing glint in his eyes and flashes a lopsided grin. He looked almost sweet as he did sly, the blend making your heart pick up in pace.

You squirm, mustering a tone of nonchalance. “I changed my mind. I’m going back to my place.”

This time he chuckles, his eyes narrowing in amusement. “Nuh uh. It’s my job to wipe that frown off your face,” he says, the corny phrase making you roll your eyes. “C’mon, I’ll be good to you.”

You pretend to think, ignoring the attentive expression he wore. “Fine. I guess I’ll let you take me home.”

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, standing up to his full height. You beam at him, matching his steps as you two reach his door. By the time the two of you were settled at his place, you already spoke to your parents in private–clearing up the misunderstandings like Satoru reminded you to do. You were glad you had him and even more glad that things were falling back to place.

Your eyes scan your surroundings, noticing how he must’ve tidied things up. “Did you clean your place?”

“Hm?” He grabs two mugs from the cabinet. “Oh yeah. I was going to have a party here.”

“Today?”

“That’s right,” he drawls, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. “I was going to call you to see if you wanted to go.”

“Really?” That was a shock to you. “Are you still gonna have one today?”

“Nah. Canceled it last minute.”

You pause, raising your brows as you try not to jump to conclusions. “Why’d you cancel it?”

“Had better things to do. I'd rather hang out with you anyways,” he says casually, smiling when he finds the packets of hot cocoa. “Found it!”

Did he cancel the party for me? You think to yourself, a bit surprised that you came to that conclusion; but if you were right and he did, you wouldn’t know what to feel other than appreciation and maybe something else. Whether that was true or not, you know that you should be feeling guilt and not giddiness from having him prioritize you. Was it normal to feel this way for Satoru? You’re about to let your thoughts fill your head but you feel your breath hitch at how he seems to lean closer to you.

His hands move you by the hips, the touch barely lasting five seconds. “Sorry I gotta get the spoons,” he murmurs, paying no mind to how you hold your breath. Your eyes fall to his biceps, swallowing a gasp as you see how the black material of his shirt moved with every movement he makes. There was no way he was human when he looked like that.

Oh my god, you think to yourself, suddenly mortified at the fact that you were checking him out. What was wrong with you right now? You always knew Gojo was attractive but you didn’t think he was this attractive. And if he had any idea of your internal conflict he didn’t pay it any mind.

“Can you go get the movie ready for me?”

“Uh huh,” you nod immediately, quickening your pace as you try to distract yourself. By the time he sits next to you, the blankets and snacks are already placed neatly on the living room table. You smile and mutter a thank you when he hands you the mug of hot cocoa.

“Feel better?” He asks, propping an arm on the head of the couch once you’re halfway through the movie: a random romcom you picked to cheer you up. Even as someone who claims he’d rather watch a movie with more action, you think the drama that comes with romcoms intrigues him–much more than he’d like to admit.

You take a sip of your drink, your eyes flitting to him. “Much better.”

“I bet,” he murmurs, his eyes glancing at the way your knees touched. The scene panels to a teary confession the female lead does, the music dramatic with strings in the background. You watch intently, observing the expressions both characters make on screen.

“Y’know, I never understood how they can always come up with a speech like that on the spot,” Satoru comments, plopping a few gummy bears in his mouth. “Isn’t that unrealistic?”

“It’s a movie,” you point out, watching as the male lead hung onto every word the female lead had to say. “It’s not supposed to be realistic.”

“I guess you’re right. But that stuff apparently happens in real life right?”

“Wouldn’t you know? You have people confessing to you all the time.”

“I don’t give them much time to continue speaking,” he shrugs.

You don’t like how uneasy you feel after he says that. “Well, maybe it’s love that makes this kind of stuff happen.”

This earns you an amused snicker. “Of course you’d say that. You gonna do that with Suguru? Confess to him from the bottom of your heart?”

You roll your eyes. “To do that, I’d have to be in love with him.”

“Are you?”

“No,” you give him an incredulous look. “I hardly know the guy. I just really like him.”

He makes a sound of understanding but you feel as if you’re deluding yourself when you see the look of relief cross his face. You turn to him, the movie forgotten all of a sudden. “Would you do that?”

“What? Confess to Suguru with the bottom of my heart?”

“Yeah sure. That’s what I meant.” you huff, seeing his teasing grin form. You sigh. “No like…confess to someone you love.”

He’s quiet, the faraway look in his eyes confirming that he’s deep in thought. You’re not sure why a pang of irritation hits you when you realize that there might be someone Satoru’s in love with. And you’re not sure if it’s because he’s not telling you or because you want to be that someone. You go with the former because you’re supposed to like Suguru.

His eyes wander to meet yours and the tick in his jaw makes you nervous–makes your palms sweaty because he’s never looked at you like that. You’re not even sure words could describe what emotion he had on his face. He smiles–not the smile that’s crooked and boyish. It’s the smile that’s sharp and makes his eyes narrow. “I might.”

“You might?” You ask, hating how breathless your voice sounded to your ears–something that he notices with the way amusement practically glimmers in his eyes. You swallow a gasp when his gaze falls to your lips, quickly flying back to your eyes.

“Maybe,” he whispers and you can’t help but wet your lips, feeling faint when the bright blue of his eyes darkens to black. You don’t flinch when his head tilts, his arm coming to the side to trap you between the couch. His cologne overwhelms you, makes you drunk on him. He’s so close that you can feel his breath hit your face.

“Satoru–”

The sound of your phone buzzing crushes the tension quickly and you let him lean back–looking as if he had more to say. You feel a smidge of disappointment as you grab your phone. “It’s Suguru,” you say and you’re not sure why your inner voice begs Satoru to tell you to ignore the phone call–to act like he cares more.

“Shouldn’t you answer it?” He questions and you hate that sinking feeling in your stomach when he doesn’t even spare a glance at you–as if acting like he wasn’t about to kiss you seconds ago. You can only frown, nodding as you watch him stand up–still not offering you one single look. “I’ll clean up.”

As you glance at your phone, at the name of Suguru appearing on your screen, you hope for the slightest bit of joy–that lovesick feeling you get whenever you’d see him. Yet, it felt wrong. This felt wrong. And apparently, Suguru could tell from your voice that there was something bugging you.

“Is everything alright? You don’t sound too good.”

Your eyes linger on Satoru’s figure moving to the kitchen. You think Suguru mentions something about a date but you don’t pay much attention, not feeling all that bad as you drown out his voice. “Yeah. I’m fine. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with me tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 7 and we can–”

“Sure,” you say, trying to ignore the way your body lurches at your response–as if it didn’t want this. “Sure. I’ll see you at 7.”

You don’t catch what he says when he hangs up, only thinking of how Satoru looked at you when he was leaning closer. The thought doesn’t horrify you as much as it should but you think that if he had kissed you, you probably would’ve kissed him back.

If someone told you a month ago that you were going on a date with Suguru, you would’ve cried tears of joy and celebrated. But now, you’re almost undeniably feeling a wave of indifference hit you and it feels awful. Suguru’s perfect–his sharp features and his charming smile that’d send anyone into a frenzied mess. Or maybe most tend to fixate on how suave he is with his words–mixing the subtlest of flirtations with simple compliments.

He’s everything you could’ve asked for. Yet, you find yourself missing the ruthless beauty you saw in Satoru–the striking blue of his eyes and the rare color of his hair. You find yourself missing the rasp of his voice, how it’d soften that night when he comforted you; you find yourself missing his warm and strong embrace as he took care of you in your inebriated state; you find yourself missing how close he was that night on his couch and how he looked at you.

At some point, you found yourself replaying that scene over and over again. The first few times, you were giddy with hormones as you imagined him leaning closer and kissing you. After a while, you wanted the image gone because it didn’t happen. He pulled away. He let you pick up the call from Suguru. He acted like nothing happened when in reality, a lot did happen. You two were finally breaching the line of friends and he knew that.

So why? That question plagued your mind for days after and every time you think you forgot about it, the memory of him would remind you all over again. And when he only congratulated you when you told him about your date with Suguru you felt betrayed. Why don’t you care? You almost blurted out but technically he did care. After all, he was the one who was trying to set you guys up so why did you suddenly want to change your mind?

You think you might hate him a little for being so good at acting like everything’s normal and you think you might hate more for making your heart beat so fast. Things weren’t supposed to end up like this. You weren’t supposed to imagine your best friend kissing you breathless or taking you on a date.

Everything’s going to fall into place, you tell yourself. You’ve already dolled up and were in the middle of spraying your perfume when Getou messaged you that he was already here. He’s relaxed in the car as you enter the car. This scene feels the same, you think to yourself, recalling the way Gojo greeted you the last time he picked you up.

“You’re wearing the shirt you wore to the party,” Getou points out and you look down at your shirt, gaping at the revelation that you’re wearing the same top Gojo told you to wear. Even with the company of another man, your subconscious still wishes he was here.

“I didn’t even notice,” you mumble, smiling at the brown-haired male as he drives. The small talk is all natural as you two make your way to the restaurant and you’re grateful that Suguru’s such an easy person to talk with. He’s nice. Really nice and you feel almost guilty for not being as enthusiastic as you wanted to be.

It’s only when you’re midway through the meal that he mentions it. “You’re not here.”

“What?”

“Here,” he shrugs, glancing at you with an empty smile. “You’re thinking about something else aren’t you?”

“I’m not–”

“Don’t worry I’m not mad,” he says and you know he’s telling the truth. “I’m curious. What are you thinking about?”

This makes you squirm in discomfort, a bit uneasy at how perfectly he read you. Satoru’s always made comments about Getou’s intuitive feeling for emotions and you’re starting to think he wasn’t exaggerating. “What if I don’t wanna tell you?” You joke.

“Then you’d leave me to assume,” he answers easily, the corner of his lips curling upwards. “I’m not an idiot (Name). I know when a lady’s thinking about someone else in my presence.”

When you try to protest, he only smiles. “Is it Satoru?”

Your silence is enough said. You want to deny him–want to shake your head and utter a firm “no.” But something about the question makes you lose your sense of thought and Suguru understands that too. “Are you in love with him?”

This catches your attention. “No. I like you not him.”

“Aren’t we well past the point of lying now?” He gives a good-natured chuckle. “If you liked me then you wouldn’t have looked at your phone so many times as if you were expecting a call.”

You widen your eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to–”

“Nah I’m really not mad,” he sighs. “But I’m interested in why you didn’t decline my offer for a date.”

You’re silent for a while, musing over his words. “When you called me, Satoru and I were about to kiss. Or well–at least I think we were about to kiss.

“So why’d you pick it up? I know Satoru enough to know that a call from me isn’t enough to make him stop with whatever he’s doing,” he raises a brow and you catch a roll of his eyes as he remembers something.

“It’s because he was the one who was setting us up together.”

Suguru makes a sound of confusion, nodding at you to continue. You take a big breath. “I asked Satoru to help me get with you.”

Getou makes a “o’ with his mouth, nodding in consideration as he processes your words. His pity makes you feel small and you’re finally experiencing the impact tenfold. “Oh (Name).”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “So now I’m pretty sure I messed up the friendship because I was stupid and he’s never gonna like me back–”

“That’s not true,” he stops you, taking a sip from his wine. “Satoru’s different around you.”

“Well that’s because I’ve known him for a while now.”

“Maybe. But he doesn’t go out of his way to help people like he does with you. Even an idiot could notice that.”

“That doesn’t mean he likes me back–”

“You don’t know that yet,” he retorts, that smile of his returning again. “Just like I didn’t know you were in love with my best friend the entire time.”

You wince, swallowing as you peer up at him. You know he didn’t intend for the comment to burn but a small part of you thinks he did it on purpose. The sight of you sulking brings a wider grin to play on his face. “Relax. I’m only playing with you,” he pauses. “I’m a bit jealous that Satoru's got such a cute girl in love with him though.”

His teasing makes you laugh. “What if he doesn’t love her back?”

“Then he’d be an idiot,” he says, giving you a look as he asks for the bill. “If he breaks your heart you know who to go to. I’d be happy to have you for myself.”

You roll your eyes, smiling softly when he coyly smiles. Suguru was kind enough to offer to drop you off at your place but you told him you wanted to see Satoru—bringing a surprised look on the brown-haired male’s face. You’re not sure how apparent it was, but you reeked of anxiety and Suguru was quick to point it out.

“I’ll wait for you,” he says nonchalantly, shooing you with his hand once you stare at him in bewilderment. “Go. Just do me a favor and message me when you guys are gonna get uh intimate.”

“We’re not—“ you click your tongue at his grin. You thank him, rushing to Satoru’s flat—the sound of your heels clicking against the floor.

If you were in a movie, there would be dramatic music playing in the background—perhaps orchestra or a sappy love song. The scene was so cliche but you’re understanding why the protagonists always ran: it was love. You were in love with Gojo Satoru.

You ring his doorbell, fixing your hair as you ready yourself to see him—mentally preparing the script of your confession. Please be home, please be home, please—

The door opens and a plethora of blue looks back at you, the surprise evident in them. You visibly brighten, smiling as you see him. “Satoru I—“

“Satoru?” another voice says from behind him—the voice evidently female. You freeze, feeling as if this image was in slow motion as you see a glimpse of a girl behind Satoru. Your eyes flit to both of them, the speech you prepared in your head drying up like a sore. “Who’s this?”

You hate that you can only watch. “It’s just a friend. Why don’t you go back inside for a bit, yeah?”

She’s so pretty, it hurts. There wasn’t a speck of imperfection on her and the need to curl up in a ball never felt stronger. The girl nods at Satoru, glancing at you in curiosity as she leaves you two alone.

You think you might hate a little bit for looking at you in concern. “Is there something wrong? Are you okay? If something—“

“No. Nothing’s wrong I’m just—“ you say, wishing your voice was louder at this moment. You avoid his eyes, fearing that you’d end up crying in front of him if you continued to stare at him. “I need to go.”

“What? But you just got here—“

“I don’t know why I came here. This was a mistake and I—“ you sigh shakily, turning on your heel to leave.

Satoru grabs you by the wrist, his gaze soft as he shakes his head when he sees you try to pry his hand off of you. “Just tell me what I can do—“

“Suguru’s waiting for me,” you say quickly, ignoring the way his face drops. “He’s outside right now.”

You hold your breath the moment his hand slowly slips off your wrist, taking a few steps back as you make your way outside. Not once do you turn back as you try your best to hold the tears in—ultimately failing as they fall as quickly as they appear.

By the time you reach Suguru’s car, your make-up is already ruined. At first, he snaps his head back at you with a smile, the curve of lips quickly disappearing as he sees your lip trembling. “No?”

“No,” you confirm, sitting back into the car and wiping your tears with a tissue he hands you. There’s no words spoken between you two as he starts the car, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Ironically, you listen to the soundtrack of “The Other Woman” playing in his car and he’s quick to change the song. He clears his throat.

“I didn’t think he was that stupid,” he says after some time, signaling right as he reaches the stop light.

“He wasn’t,” you murmur. “I was the stupid one for thinking that we could be more than friends.”

After the ordeal a couple nights ago, you’re not even ashamed that you’re blatantly avoiding Gojo like the plague. You even turned off your read receipts for him which you would’ve found so petty if you didn’t feel so frantic at the sound of his name. Originally, you thought he’d put up more of a fight and be more persistent in getting your attention–only you were proven wrong when you didn’t see any of his attempts increasing.

Disappointed, you were caught in a dilemma. You wanted this distance but craved his presence. At some point, your thoughts ran dry and you were in a slump. Were you always this bad at making up your mind?

No. You weren’t. You didn’t think excessively hard when you decided you liked Getou and when you stopped liking him. Nor did you think super hard about your other crushes. Gojo made your brain hurt and if this was love, you’re not sure you really liked it; but it felt so nice to think about how it would feel to be loved by him–to have him kiss you.

Which is why you thought it was a great idea to avoid him because surely time makes the feelings fade. And you hope they fade fast–especially after you saw him with that girl. You bite back your jealousy at the thought of what they did together. Today was supposed to be a mental health day. It was if fate allowed you to have little to nothing to do and you were going to take advantage of it.

The coffee house was ambient with the occasional loud laughter from groups of friends. You were halfway through your book, taking a sip from your drink as you flipped the pages. This was what you were meant for: reading novels in a cafe, keeping a low profile, and protecting your peace.

You’re about midway through the big plot twist until you hear the sound of a chair scraping and your heart freezes in your chest when you see Gojo stare back at you. Only this time, he looks serious and even annoyed.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he begins, tapping his finger nails on the wooden table. You don’t miss the way a few people take a few double-takes when they walk past him. So much for keeping a low profile.

“Gojo,” you acknowledge him awkwardly, fidgeting with the pages of your book.

Your stomach does a flip when his jaw twitches and his eyes cross your face. He sighs, leaning back and adjusting his seating position. “Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“You literally just called me Gojo,” he said and if you were more rational, you would’ve laughed at how childish he sounded over you not using his first name.

“A lot of people call you Gojo,” you point out, still not meeting his eyes.

“You’re not just ‘a lot of people.’ And you always call me Satoru,” he murmurs.

You tense up. There he goes again: treating you like you’re special. It makes you confused and makes your heartbeat skip. You clear your throat. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?” He says, a bit loudly at that. It was unlike Gojo to attract attention to personal matters in public and the guilt hits you. You were so caught up in your own feelings that you completely ignored how he would’ve felt. Even if he only thought of you as a friend, anyone would’ve felt mad if put in the situation you put Gojo in.

You glance at the curious gazes in the cafe, grabbing him by the hand as you pull him outside to a secluded area. You quickly drop his hand, a bit surprised that he let you even hold it. “What are you talking about?” You ask, not sure why you’re playing dumb.

“You’re avoiding me,” he says, staring down at you. Sometimes, you forget how tall Satoru really is and how his gaze can make anyone feel small. “Did I do something to make you mad?”

You think back to him and the girl. “No you didn’t do anything.”

“Then what the hell is it?” He says, sounding more mad than you initially thought. His eyes scan over your face–observing your pursed lips and aversion from his eyes. He clicks his tongue. “Is this about the other night?”

You really wish you didn’t snap your head so fast to meet his eyes. The other night could’ve meant many things but you knew he was referring to a specific one. “No,” you say and you already know he doesn’t believe you.

“(Name),” he says softly. “Were you jealous?” Hearing him saying it out loud makes you cringe. You shake your head adamantly, trying to muster up the courage to not break eye-contact with him. You wonder if he could hear how loud your heartbeat was. “I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous?”

“You tell me,” he voices in that tone that tells you that he’s already figured it out. For all the years you’ve known Gojo, you’ve become well-acquainted with his habits and his mannerisms. And you knew him well enough to realize that he wasn’t going to stop with the questions until you told him the truth.

He always did this. Always made sure to pummel the truth out of you and it didn’t matter how dirty he played. “Then why did you go to me in the first place? Didn’t you have Suguru outside waiting for you?”

“I–”

“What was so important about what you wanted to tell me that you left Suguru waiting for you? What was it and why are you so scared that you’re avoiding me?”

“It’s because I like you!” You finally say, knowing that he bested you in this game of his. The regret hits you so hard you feel like running away again. Only this, he doesn’t let you when he pulls you by the shoulder.

“What?” He says breathlessly, his eyes wide with wonder. It’s over, you think to yourself. He’s going to hate you after this because you ruined the friendship.

“I avoided you because I like you,” you admit quietly. “And because I saw you with that girl the other night.”

“(Name)...”

“Stop,” you murmur, feeling the tears form. “Stop. I already know what you’re gonna say, okay? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

You shrug him off, wiping your tears with your sleeve. The plans for “protecting your peace” almost seemed silly now because you couldn’t rewind time and undo all of this. You don’t bother saying goodbye to Gojo as you take your chances in leaving. And you desperately wonder how you were going to move on from this.

Gojo thinks he’s in a fever dream. Your confession stunned him into oblivion and if it weren’t for your tears, he thinks he might’ve stayed in one spot for hours on end. The night you came over, Gojo already had enough on his mind. Seeing you in the flesh made him lose the logical side of his brain and his mind just replayed that night you two nearly kissed.

He remembered being able to taste how nervous you were–how you found purchase on his shoulders as he tried his hardest not to pin you to the couch and kiss you stupid. He remembered how soft you were and how that thought would torture him for days on.

Gojo knew what he did after was an asshole move but he thought the phone call from Suguru served as a reminder that he couldn’t have you. You two were best friends and to ruin that because he wanted you was selfish of him. He was already selfish enough to want to keep you for himself but you wanted Suguru.

That’s why when you came to his place, he was confused. Gojo did something stupid and didn’t want the thoughts of you to keep popping up. He recalled dialing the number of some girl he stopped talking to ages ago just to not have you occupy his mind.

When he saw your brows furrow at the sight of her, he was surprised to say the least. He ruled out the possibility of jealousy early on and just kept it as that. But now, on this chilly afternoon and in some secluded corner, you were confessing to him.

You like him. You like him back. Sure, you didn’t love him like he loves you (or at least he thinks so) but that's besides the point. He collects himself the moment he sees the tears forming in your eyes, panic coursing through him.

Did his silence make you misunderstand? Did you know that he was ready to scream and tell the whole world that he finally got the girl of his dreams? How he was prepared to pull you into a crushing hug and hold you like he had heaven in his arms?

He forgot you weren’t a mind reader and it dawned on him that he caused your tears. He doesn’t want to be the guy who lets misunderstandings marinate nor does he want to be the cause of your fallout. He was going to fix this.

If you thought he was going to let you go that easily then you severely underestimate him. Because Gojo Satoru was willing to fight for your love.

You think you’re in some sappy k-drama when he grabs you by the wrist the second time. If you weren’t crying your eyes out, you would’ve laughed at him and he would’ve laughed with you. But there’s only a wave of frustration when he doesn’t let go. “Satoru let me go–”

“No,” he says with a deadpan and you almost think he sounds desperate. You’re about to say something but he only steps closer. “You can’t run away like you did before. That’s the easy way out–”

“I’m not–”

“You are,” he interrupts. “And I’m not gonna let you because you’re gonna listen to what I have to say.”

You’re almost reluctant to stay silent but you give in when he squeezes your wrist–as if begging you to stay. You sigh. “Fine.”

“Good,” he whispers, racking his brain for what to say. He takes a deep breath. “A while back, I said I didn’t understand how the characters from romance movies always knew what to say in moments like these. You know those super long speeches? It seemed unrealistic to me but I think I understand now.”

You let him continue, clinging onto every word that falls from his lips. “It’s so easy to say stuff like this. When you’re in love with someone, you notice the little things about them. I noticed you and you were the only thing on my mind. You still are the only thing on my mind. Do you get what I mean?”

You watch in awe as he continues, stuttering over some of his words which was so rare for him. “The night you told me you liked Suguru I was so annoyed. I’ve never gotten jealous of Suguru or anyone but I wanted to be the one that you liked. I wanted to be the one that you dressed up for and the one you smiled at. It drove me insane when you went on a date with him and I hate that I didn’t just say fuck it and steal you away sooner.”

He takes a chance to catch his breath, ruffling his hair as he finally flashes you a crooked grin–a mix of embarrassed and boyish. “That girl you saw me with…I never did anything with her,” he admits and you think you might fall over from shock. “I couldn’t. I just kept thinking about you and I wanted you on my mind all the time. I didn’t want to think about anyone else and didn’t want anyone to take your place–”

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m in love with you,” he finally says. “I already said that earlier but I want to say it again. I think I’ve always loved you–even when we were kids. I think little kid me always wanted your attention. I just never knew what I felt until I realized that you weren’t mine–not mine to love. And I don’t think there’s nothing in the world that I want more than you.”

At this point, your mouth is already ready to catch flies as you listen to his ramblings about his affections. You think you might cry. Gojo’s usually not good with words but you can tell how genuine he is–how much he meant this. “Then all those times you helped me with Suguru?”

“I hated doing that,” he huffs. “I swear I was about to punch Suguru every time he called you cute.”

You laugh, feeling jittery all over. “Would you?”

“I’m a bit worried that you like that idea a bit too much.”

You grin, shrugging. “Maybe a little. I guess I should tell you that I really wanted you to kiss me when we were on the couch.”

“You did?” He practically beams, cupping your face with his hand. You feel your stomach do twists when his thumb grazes the skin of your cheek softly, as if this was always normal.

“And I should probably tell you that I love you too,” you say firmly, gaining a rush of confidence. “And you should probably kiss me right now.”

The smile on his face might just be the prettiest thing you’ve seen in the world. He leans in, cupping your face as he presses his lips against yours. The way he holds you makes you feel safe and you think you might love him a little more when he moves his hand to your neck.

You break the kiss. “Does this mean we’re dating now?”

He laughs. “Do I need to kiss you again for you to say yes?”

When you nod, he pulls you in again and again. And if this was his way of asking, you’d say yes each time.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #jjk #fluff #angst #satoru x reader #satoru x you

2K notes · View notes

lolacelest101 · 15 days ago

Text

No Need For Privacy

18+ MDNI

Hii!!! This is my first story or anything like this that I write and publish so I am sure it will be bad. I would love to get your feedback and let me know if I missed anything in the TWs. I am a big fan of F1 and other mainstream spaces so I will try to do more in the future.

Happy Reading!

Word Count: 6131

Themes: Lando!Norris x Fem!American!reader, Embarrassing moment turn spicy, next door neighbor, close proximity

Smutty tings: wall pinning, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, mirror sex, p in v, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!!!!), spanking, oral sex, slight edging, fingering, gagging, praise and degradation kink.

Your POV

I moved to Monaco a week ago with my two best friends from work, Liana and Aaliyah. It’s been a dream come true for all of us, especially since our company launched a new project in the Monaco branch and requested our expertise.

Settling in has been a breeze, mostly thanks to Alexander Qasemi, the top manager of the Monaco office. He has multiple investments in the area and offered to rent out one of his properties to us at a discount. It’s conveniently close to the office, and his wife, Catalina, has been a lifesaver, helping us get set up, showing us around, and pointing out all the spots we need to check out. Coming from Florida, Monaco feels like a mix of Palm Beach and Miami, but it’s still a world apart from Tampa, where we grew up.

The house has three bedrooms, each with its own view from the second floor. We picked rooms based on the views, but I ended up going for the one with extra closet space—even if it has a “boring” view of the street and a direct line of sight into the house next door. And judging by what I’ve seen, the neighbor isn’t big on privacy; I can see right into what looks like the main bedroom.

I wake up to Liana singing loudly to what sounds like a new song by The Weeknd, her voice filling the house. Squinting as sunlight streams into my room, I reluctantly drag myself up and into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, choosing to ignore my messy bed hair. Liana’s door is open, and she spots me staggering around like a zombie.

“Good morning, sunshine!” she shouts, singing along with the song. All I can think is, It’s way too early for this.

I shuffle back to my room and glance at the clock on my nightstand. It flashes 10:32 AM, and panic hits—I remember that Catalina mentioned she’d be here around 10:45 AM to show us more of the area, and she insisted we make time for it.

I rush back into the hallway, suddenly wide awake. “Liana, why didn’t you wake us up? Catalina’s gonna be here any minute!”

Liana smirks and says, “I did, about 30 minutes ago. Aaliyah’s already up and made coffee. You told me I was ‘handsome and sexy’ and asked for five more minutes.” She’s trying not to laugh, and my face goes red as I realize I was probably having an almost wet dream.

“Well… he sure was, wasn’t he?” I say, trying to brush it off. “But we still need to hurry.”

After a quick change into something suitable for the weather, I throw on some black skinny jeans that hug my curves, a short flowy black-and-white striped top, and sneakers.

“Y/N, come down! Catalina’s here,” Aaliyah calls up the stairs.

I see her car pulling up from my window, so I run down to grab a quick sip of coffee before she knocks on the door. Liana’s sitting on the couch, putting her shoes on, and I lean against the counter, downing my coffee like it’s a race. Aaliyah opens the door, greeting Catalina with hugs and kisses. I set my mug down, go over to greet her, and offer to make her a coffee before we start the tour.

Catalina’s dressed in a floral top and white pants, looking like the definition of “aging like fine wine.” Despite being in her 60s, she doesn’t look a day over 40. She radiates warmth, like a grandmother everyone wishes they had.

Liana goes back to grab her phone, and as Catalina and I step outside, we bump into a man with dark hair and intense eyes. Catalina lights up as soon as she sees him, opening her arms for a hug.

“Oh, Max! I didn’t know you’d be here!” she says, surprised, pulling him in for an embrace.

“It was very last-minute for the Monaco GP,” he replies, hugging her back. When he lets go, he glances at me expectantly.

“Max, this is Y/N,” Catalina says. “She moved here a week ago with her friends.”

Max extends his hand, and I shake it, trying to keep my cool. “Nice to meet you. I guess we’ll be running into each other a lot,” I say, smiling.

Holy shit, Max Fewtrell is staying next door! My mind races, and I make a mental note to change my Quadrant phone case ASAP—I don’t want him thinking I’m some obsessive fan.

Max’s voice snaps me back. “Ah, an American accent! Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

I laugh lightly as Liana and Aaliyah join us. I introduce them, and Max shakes their hands before introducing himself.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m not exactly your neighbor, but my best friend lives here, so you’ll probably see him more often than me. Oh—there he is now,” he adds, looking over my shoulder.

My heart skips. The only person this could be is Lando Norris, and I’m about to pretend I’m way cooler than I actually am.

I snap back to see Lando Norris, head down, fiddling with his car keys. When he looks up, he immediately spots Catalina, a smile breaking across his face.

“Hey, you! How’ve you been? I already miss having you as my neighbor,” he says, giving her a hug.

She laughs, “I’ve missed you too, but I brought you some new company, so you won’t miss me too much.” Catalina turns to us with a smile. “Lando, these are the new neighbors: Liana, Aaliyah, and Y/N.”

Lando shakes each of our hands. His grip is firm, his fingers slightly calloused, probably from hours on the simulator. When he gets to me, I feel his gaze linger a bit longer, like he’s trying to place me.

“I don’t mean to sound creepy, but… you’re the one sleeping in that room, right?” He nods toward my bedroom window.

Caught off guard, I stammer, “Uh… yeah, that’s mine. Why?”

A faint blush crosses his face, a sly grin forming as he glances back at me. “You might want to, uh… move your mirror. Just saying.”

It takes a second for the realization to hit, but when it does, I’m mortified. I remember putting my large gold mirror directly across from the window and how, last night, after a long day of rearranging, I decided to… “treat” myself, lights on and all.

My mind races back to that memory—me stripping down, lying on my bed, a vibrator in one hand…

I force myself back to the present, trying to salvage what little dignity I have left. “Oh! I didn’t realize anyone was home over there… It looked empty all week.”

Lando chuckles, his grin widening. “Yeah, I just got back last night. And… well, let’s just say I got quite the welcome back.”

The heat rising in my cheeks is unbearable, and I quickly turn to Catalina. “So, Catalina, you mentioned we have a lot of places to see today?”

I feel Lando’s eyes on me, making my skin prickle with heat.

“Yes! Let’s get going.” Catalina waves goodbye to the guys, and we start heading toward her SUV. As I walk away, I can still feel Lando’s gaze burning into me, like he’s savoring every second of my embarrassment.

-------------------

Later That Night

The night air is warm and slightly humid, with a faint breeze blowing in from the sea. We’d just gotten back from the club, laughing and chattering as we climbed out of the cab. Aaliyah and Liana are still buzzing with energy, but I hang back a bit, enjoying the cool air on my flushed skin.

Liana nudges my shoulder. “We’re going inside to get some water. You good out here?”

I nod, waving them off. “Yeah, I just need a moment to cool down. I’ll be right behind you.”

They head inside, leaving me alone in the quiet of the street. I close my eyes, letting the night’s calm settle around me, when I hear footsteps. I look up, and there’s Lando, standing just a few feet away with Max at his side. Max offers a friendly nod before slipping inside, leaving Lando and me alone on the sidewalk.

“Well, look who it is,” Lando drawls, a smirk playing on his lips. “Didn’t expect to see you out here this late.”

I shrug, trying to act nonchalant. “Just needed some air. The club was loud.”

He steps closer, his gaze intense. “So, have you moved that mirror yet?”

I feel my cheeks heat up despite the cool night air. “Why do you keep bringing that up?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, his tone teasing. “Maybe because it’s hard to forget. Didn’t realize you were such an exhibitionist, but hey, I’m not complaining.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “I didn’t know anyone was watching. And I’m not an exhibitionist.”

He raises an eyebrow, the smirk never leaving his face. “Could’ve fooled me. You looked pretty comfortable up there, totally absorbed… didn’t even close the blinds.”

The tension between us is thick, the memory of last night making my pulse race. I cross my arms, feeling his gaze linger on me. “Well, you could’ve looked away.”

“Could’ve,” he agrees, stepping even closer until he’s barely a foot away. His voice drops lower, his tone laced with something dark and enticing. “But I didn’t want to.”

A shiver runs through me as his words sink in. We’re standing close enough now that I can feel his warmth, his eyes scanning my face, searching for something. His gaze drops briefly to my lips, and I can feel the air crackling between us, heavy and charged.

I tilt my head, giving him a challenging look. “You get off on watching your neighbors, then?”

His smirk deepens. “Not usually. But you’re not just any neighbor, are you?”

I swallow, feeling my resolve slipping. “And what makes me so special?”

Lando’s hand lifts, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, lingering just a second too long. “Something about you… can’t quite put my finger on it.”

His voice is rougher now, barely above a whisper. Every nerve in my body is on fire, my breath hitching as his gaze drops to my lips again.

“What are you waiting for, then?” I murmur, my voice betraying a hint of a dare.

He chuckles softly, his fingers trailing down my cheek. “You sure you can handle it?”

I lean forward, closing the space between us just enough that I can feel the heat of his breath against my lips. “I think I can manage.”

Lando’s hand moves to my waist, pulling me a fraction closer until there’s barely any space left between us. “Careful, princess. Once we start, I might not stop.”

His words are a warning, but his eyes tell a different story—one that has me aching to close the distance, to see just how far this tension can go.

Just as Lando leans in, his hand firmly on my waist and his eyes locked on mine, the front door swings open, breaking the moment.

“Y/N!” Aaliyah calls out, her voice bright and oblivious. “You coming? We need you to settle a debate on which of us danced better tonight!”

I pull back, startled, and glance over at the girls standing in the doorway. They don’t notice Lando standing in the shadows just out of their line of sight.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be right in,” I call, trying to keep my voice steady, heart still racing from the almost-kiss.

Lando chuckles softly, his hand slipping from my waist, though his gaze doesn’t leave mine. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans down, his lips grazing my ear, voice low and teasing. “Guess we’ll have to pick this up some other time, hmm?”

My breath catches, and I turn to give him a playful glare, but he’s already smirking, enjoying every second of my flustered expression. I can barely think straight, still caught up in the heated moment we were just sharing.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmurs, his tone laced with a promise that has my heart thudding against my chest. He steps back, giving me one last lingering look before turning toward his house. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder with that signature smirk.

“Don’t let those blinds stay open tonight,” he says, voice dripping with suggestion. “Or do. Your call.”

I feel a blush rising to my cheeks as he disappears into the darkness, leaving me there with my heart pounding and my mind racing.

I turn back toward the house, trying to regain my composure as I walk inside. Aaliyah and Liana are too caught up in their dance debate to notice the flush on my face or the slight tremble in my hands.

But as I head upstairs, all I can think about is Lando’s words, his hand on my waist, the almost-kiss that left me wanting so much more. That smirk, that challenge—it’s all burned into my mind, and I can still feel the heat of his touch lingering on my skin.

I lie in bed, staring at my mirror across from the window, replaying the night in my mind. And, despite my better judgment, I leave the blinds just a little open.

--------------

The Next Morning

I wake up to a quiet house, the morning sun streaming in through my half-open blinds. Liana and Aaliyah left early to grab some groceries, promising to be back soon, but I decided to stay and sleep in. After a while, though, I find myself wide awake and craving something sweet—specifically, chocolate chip cookies.

I slip into some cozy clothes and head downstairs, popping on some music as I pull ingredients from the cupboards. Soon, the smell of warm cookies fills the air, and I feel a little proud of my spontaneous baking session. Figuring it’d be a nice way to break the ice, I plate a few to bring next door later.

Just as I pull out the last tray from the oven, there’s a knock at the door. I wipe my hands on a towel, open it, and, sure enough, there’s Lando, standing there with his signature smirk.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” he says, stepping in before I can even invite him. “Saw the girls head out and figured you’d still be here. Thought you’d sleep all day after last night’s… excitement.”

I feel my cheeks heat instantly, but I roll my eyes, trying to brush it off. “Good morning to you, too. And no, I don’t sleep all day. I’m actually productive.”

He glances at the mixing bowls and cooling cookies. “Productive, huh? Baking cookies for the new neighbors?” He reaches over, snagging one from the plate. “Are these just for me?”

“They’re for the neighbors,” I say, crossing my arms with a smirk. “But you’re welcome to have one.”

He takes a bite, savoring it with an approving nod. “Alright, alright—not bad. Didn’t peg you as a homemaker.”

“I’ve got layers,” I tease, nudging him lightly.

He chuckles, but his gaze drifts around the kitchen, taking in the scattered ingredients and my little baking mess. His eyes eventually settle back on me, a glint of mischief lighting them up.

“So, I gotta ask,” he says, leaning against the counter, “did you actually move that mirror? Or should I go check?”

I feel a flicker of heat under his gaze, but I keep my tone even, hoping he won’t catch on. “Of course I did. You were right—it needed to be moved.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Oh, yeah? Somehow, I don’t quite believe you.”

Before I can stop him, he’s already heading for the stairs, and my heart leaps. “Lando!” I laugh nervously, following after him. “You don’t need to go up there!”

“Need to see for myself,” he says over his shoulder, that smirk still on his face. “If you really moved it, then you shouldn’t mind me checking.”

He starts toward the stairs, and I blink, realizing what he means. “Wait, Lando—”

But he’s already halfway up, glancing back with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t tell me you’re shy now.”

I trail him up the stairs, heart racing. The truth is, I didn’t move the mirror—it’s still in the exact same spot, right across from the bed. And now he’s about to see it.

He steps into my room and glances around, his gaze landing on the mirror across from the bed, right where he left it in his memory. The corner of his mouth lifts, and he lets out a low chuckle, clearly amused.

“You didn’t move it,” he murmurs, his voice low and pleased.

I cross my arms, trying to play it off. “I like it where it is. Why should I change it just because you got an eyeful?”

Lando steps closer, his gaze never wavering from mine, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe I want another one.”

The tension between us thickens, the air electric. He’s close enough now that I can feel his warmth, his gaze dropping to my lips before returning to my eyes. His hand moves up to gently brush a strand of hair from my face, lingering just a moment too long, fingers tracing down my jaw.

“You’re not afraid of a little attention, are you?” he asks, his voice soft, teasing.

I swallow, trying to steady my breathing. “Depends on who’s watching.”

He leans in even closer, his breath warm against my skin. “Then tonight… don’t close those blinds. And don’t move that mirror.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and filled with promise. My heart races, every nerve tingling as I meet his gaze, a challenge sparking between us that’s impossible to ignore.

Lando’s fingers linger on my jaw for just a moment longer, then he pulls back, that smirk still on his lips as he steps away.

“Enjoy your cookies, Y/N,” he says, glancing over his shoulder as he heads back downstairs, leaving me standing there, breathless, the echo of his words replaying in my mind.

As I watch him leave, I can still feel the heat of his touch, the thrill of his words searing into my memory. And tonight? Well, let’s just say I don’t plan on closing those blinds.

----------

Later That Night

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting Monaco in a warm, golden glow, I stand in front of my bedroom mirror, adjusting the last few things on my dresser. The blinds are open just enough, casting a soft reflection of the room and inviting in a sliver of the night. I glance over my shoulder at the window, knowing full well who might be watching.

I breathe in, feeling the excitement build. Tonight, I’m ready to give him that “show” he teased me about. I settle onto my bed, relaxing against the pillows, and allow myself to sink into the evening’s quiet. There’s an awareness in the air, the thrill of knowing that maybe, just maybe, I’m being watched.

I reach over to my nightstand, casually bringing out my favorite toys, a purple vibrating dildo and a vibrating toy in the shape of a tongue. Slowly, I begin to lose myself in the moment, all too aware of the tantalizing possibility that Lando might be watching from his window.

Just as I’m truly relaxing into the scene, there’s a firm knock at the door, shattering the silence. My heart jumps as I glance at the door, pulse racing. I hesitate, but something inside pushes me to go see who it is.

I make my way downstairs, opening the door just wide enough to see Lando standing there, his eyes dark, filled with that same mischievous look that’s been driving me crazy. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

“You left your blinds open,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with suggestion. “Thought I’d come by and… check on you.”

In one swift motion, he closes the space between us, his hands sliding around my waist, pressing me firmly against the wall, his body heat igniting every inch of me. His gaze locks onto mine, daring me to pull away, but there’s no chance I would. He dips his head, his lips grazing my ear as he whispers, “You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”

I shiver, the thrill of his words sparking something wild and eager between us. His hands roam, fingers slipping under my shirt, exploring every curve as his lips capture mine in a kiss that’s hungry and unapologetic, each movement demanding a response.

As he carries me to the bedroom, there’s an electric anticipation, an unspoken promise that fills the space between us. The moment we reached my room, he pressed me against the wall, his hands firm on my waist, holding me steady. His gaze meets mine in the mirror across from us, dark and intense, every look fueling the thrill building between us.

He leans in, his voice a low murmur against my neck. “You knew I couldn’t stay away, didn’t you?” His words send a shiver through me, and he slides his hands along my waist, drawing me even closer, his touch both possessive and gentle, filled with the heat we’ve been holding back.

“I did—but I didn’t anticipate you barging in at this hour,” I manage to say between kisses, each one feeling more primal than the last. My core seems to have a mind of its own, my hips grinding against him, wanting more. Needing more.

He grins against my lips. “Didn’t take you for the needy type, princess.” He pulls back, sitting on the bed, leaving me craving the contact.

“Well, princess, not everything comes easy,” he murmurs, his gaze growing hungrier. “You teased me, so now it’s time you learn your lesson.”

I rise from his lap, tugging his shirt off in one motion, my hands exploring his toned chest and feeling his muscles tense under my touch. I trail kisses from his jaw down his neck, my lips grazing every inch, each one making my core ache with anticipation.

Sliding to my knees between his thighs, I reach the waistband of his trousers and boxers, sliding them down to let his hard cock spring free. My eyes, full of lust and need, are fixed on him, my mouth craving the feel of him. I waste no time wrapping my hand around his length, bringing my mouth to the tip, letting my tongue swirl slowly around the head before sliding down, inch by inch.

His moans and grunts grow stronger, more primal by the second. His hands grip my hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail, giving both of us a clearer view in the mirror.

“Fuck, princess, look at you, being such a good girl for me,” he growls, tilting my head to see his cock sliding deep into my mouth, the tip pressing at the back of my throat. Our eyes meet in the reflection, his grin never fading, eyes bright with satisfaction at the sight.

I try hard not to choke or gag as he picks up the pace, using my mouth for his pleasure. I can feel my own need intensifying, wetness pooling as I slip my free hand between my legs, seeking a hint of relief from the ache.

Just as I feel his cum on my tongue, sliding down my throat, my moans vibrate around his length, making him twitch in my mouth. His gaze shifts to the mirror, catching sight of my hand as I touch myself. In that instant, he releases his hold on my head and pulls his cock from my mouth, leaving a mix of confusion and hunger on my face.

“Princess… did I tell you that you could touch yourself?” Lando leans in, lifting my chin so our faces are close, his breath warm against my lips.

“No, you didn’t,” I reply, a hint of rebellion mixed with anticipation flashing across my face.

“Well, bad girls need punishments, so let me think of something.” An idea lights up his eyes as he guides me up onto the bed, positioning me on my hands and knees, facing the mirror. My mascara has smudged, trailing down my cheeks from the tears shed while he was in my mouth.

Part of me craves for him to finally take me and fill me up, while another part wants to see just what punishment he has in store.

He stands beside the bed and instructs me to keep my ass up and face down, so I adjust to ensure we’re both visible in the mirror. Once I settle, Lando’s hand trails from my hair down the arch of my back and onto my ass. He rubs my cheeks, his fingers dipping lower to feel my wetness, sticky and creamy, dripping onto the mattress.

“Look at you. So wet and needy for me,” he murmurs, bringing two fingers coated in my arousal back to my lips. I open my mouth, ready for a taste, and he slides his fingers in, letting me lick them clean. His breath is warm on my neck as he leans close to whisper in my ear.

“Good girls don’t touch themselves unless I say so.” He nibbles on my earlobe. “But it seems like you might just be my needy little slut instead.”

He steps away, the cool air hitting my sensitive core, sending shivers down my spine and adding a thrill to the moment.

Without warning, a sharp smack lands on one of my ass cheeks, the pain mixing with a tingling heat. He rubs over the reddened spot before delivering another smack, this time to the other side.

“Since you teased me twice, you’ll be getting four spanks—unless I see you haven’t learned your lesson.” He counts, “One,” landing a solid smack, then “Two,” and repeats on both sides. By the time he finishes the fourth, his hand has left my skin bright red, each touch leaving a sensitive, electric throb. A mix of pleasure and pain shows on my face with each strike.

“That’s it, my perfect princess,” he murmurs, brushing his fingertips gently over my sore, reddened skin. “You did so well. I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?”

“Yes, please,” I breathe, arching my back and raising my hips higher, my aching core desperate for attention. A grin spreads across his face as his fingers slip into my folds, rubbing my swollen clit, drawing a moan from my lips with every heavy breath.

Lando’s hunger grows more possessive as he slips a finger inside me, filling my tight heat. The sensation sends my body into overdrive, and the pleasure on his face only fuels the fire inside me. He slides another finger in, his free hand roaming along the curve of my arching spine.

His thumb continues to circle my sensitive clit, his pace quickening as he pumps his fingers in and out, each movement leaving me trembling with need. I bite my lip, trying to muffle my moans, but the pleasure is too much.

“Lando… I’m—close,” I manage to breathe out between gasps and moans.

“Oh, princess, I can see that,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers out of me suddenly, leaving an unbearable emptiness in their wake.

My wetness clings to his fingers in a glistening string as he pulls them away. “Fuck, you look so good on my fingers,” he growls, his gaze fixed on the sight of my arousal. Slowly, he brings his fingers to his lips, wrapping his tongue around them and sucking them clean.

“FUCK. And you taste ten thousand times better.” His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he savors the taste, the heat in the room climbing higher. The sight of him tasting me sends my brain spiraling into bliss, my gaping mouth wordlessly wishing for more.

Moments later, he leans down, his tongue sliding through my folds, the sensation stealing the air from my lungs. He places a light, teasing kiss on my core before beginning to suck and eat every inch of my pussy with eager determination.

“Fuck, you’re addictive, princess,” he murmurs against my entrance, the vibration of his voice making me shiver. His hands grip my ass firmly, spreading me wider, giving him full access to devour me.

His tongue teases my entrance, flicking and dipping inside, making my body twitch and ache for more. My hips start to move on their own, thrusting slightly, begging for him to go deeper.

Without warning, he flips me onto my back, positioning me for a better view. His hands grasp my thighs, and with quick precision, he pulls me to the edge of the bed. Dropping to his knees, he toys with my clit, his fingers circling and pressing before diving back between my legs, tongue working with unrelenting fervor.

“Now this, princess,” he murmurs between kisses and licks, his voice dripping with satisfaction, “I’d eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of my life.”

His words push me closer to the edge, my climax approaching rapidly as my legs begin to tremble. His grip tightens on me, holding me in place, preventing me from pulling away from his relentless mouth. My body shudders suddenly as the wave of relief I’ve been craving washes over me.

My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as I grind against his mouth, riding out every pulse of my orgasm, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.

I feel my arousal spill into his mouth as he greedily licks and sucks, not letting a single drop go to waste. He stands, his eyes dark and filled with hunger, leaning in to kiss me. The taste of my release lingers on his lips, and I moan softly, lost in the sensation.

His hard cock presses against my core, grinding against me with desperate need, and I instinctively move my hips, craving to feel him inside me. His kiss grows rough and possessive, his hand sliding down from my neck to my breasts. He pinches one of my nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through me and drawing a gasp that he swallows into the kiss, his grin wicked and satisfied.

“If my needy princess wants something, she has to ask for it,” he whispers, his lips parting from mine with a teasing grin, his breath warm against my ear.

His hand slides down to my clit, his fingers circling and flicking, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. My breath hitches, and a soft moan escapes my lips, my mind struggling to process his words.

“Use your words, princess. Tell me what you want,” he growls, his voice firm yet tantalizing, his fingers working me into a frenzy.

“Fuck me, please,” I murmur, my voice trembling as the heat builds in my core, every nerve in my body begging for him.

“Say that again, princess,” he demands, his tone dripping with playful dominance. “A little louder for me.”

“Fuck! I need you to fuck me—to feel you inside me. Please!” The frustration and raw need are evident in my voice, my body aching for him to claim me.

“That’s my good little slut,” he murmurs, satisfaction clear in his tone. He adjusts himself at my entrance, teasing me for a moment before slowly sliding inside, letting me adjust to his size. The stretch is overwhelming, and my fingers instinctively trail down his back, nails digging in and leaving marks. He jolts forward at the sensation, filling me deeper and making my head fall back, my back arching as I gasp at the sudden invasion.

He growls into my neck, leaving a trail of kisses and soft bites as he begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first. The rhythm shifts, his chest lifting from mine, giving him a full view of my bare body beneath him. One hand slides to my stomach, pressing down lightly as he picks up speed, fucking me harder and faster, his thrusts deep and commanding.

“That’s it, princess,” he growls, his voice raw with pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Let me stretch you just enough to make your pussy become a ring on my cock.” His hips slam into mine with a hunger that matches my own, the sound of our skin meeting echoing through the room.

As his thrusts grow more desperate, his hand reaches for the vibrating tongue toy on the nightstand. Without missing a beat, he presses it against my clit, the sudden overload of sensation making me throw my head back, a loud moan of his name escaping my lips as my hands clutch the sheets for dear life.

A wicked glint of satisfaction flashes across Lando’s face, his grin smug and proud. He leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, “Princess, as much as your moans are music to my ears, we can’t have your friends interrupting us right now—or finding out that their sweet little friend is such a good slut for the guy next door.”

Before I can respond, he grabs my black lace panties by the bed—the ones I’d removed during my earlier “show”—and gently pushes them into my mouth, muffling my cries of ecstasy as he continues to claim me.

My pussy clenches and twitches around his cock as his thrusts grow wetter, the sound of our movements filling the room. My orgasm teeters on the edge, his cum seeping into me, intensifying the sensation.

His growls and moans grow deeper and more primal. “Fuck, princess, you must be close,” he murmurs, his face satisfied as he watches my trembling legs and the euphoria written all over my face.

My muffled cries escape past the panties still in my mouth, vibrating softly in the heated air. “Cum for me, princess,” Lando commands, thrusting into me twice more. His words send me hurtling into my second orgasm of the night, my body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure consume me.

Lando’s thrusts grow sloppy, his grip on my waist tightening as he buries himself deep inside me. My pussy milks every last drop of his release, the warmth of his cum splashing against my inner walls. With a low growl, he slides out of me, both of our arousals dripping down my thighs and pooling onto the mattress.

He steps back, his eyes lighting up as he takes in the sight of my used, naked body, glistening and dripping with his cum. Slowly, his gaze traces every inch of me, savoring the evidence of what we’d just done.

“You know,” he says, his voice still thick with lust, “I might want this view every hour of the day from now on.” His tone is intoxicating, and he steps closer, gently removing the panties from my mouth before placing a soft kiss on my lips. “What do you think? You agree?” His smirk deepens, a dimple just beginning to peek through.

“I think that can be arranged,” I reply, wrapping my arms around his neck, a cheeky smile spreading across my face.

“Perfect,” he says, brushing his lips along my skin in a trail of butterfly kisses. “Let me start a shower for you, and then you can get some rest.” His voice is softer now, but still filled with care.

As he moves toward the bathroom, I pull myself up onto shaky feet, my body sore in all the best ways. Each ache is a reminder of every moment we’d just shared. I follow him, leaning on the sink in front of the mirror, catching a glimpse of my reflection—flushed, satisfied, and completely undone. The sensation of his cum still seeping out of me draws my attention, and I can’t help but slide a finger down to catch a drop, bringing it to my lips. I shut my eyes, savoring the taste.

Fuck, I need more.

Lando calls to me, his voice echoing softly under the sound of the shower. I walk toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he turns to face me. Pulling him into a sensual kiss, I whisper against his lips, “Are you up for a round two?” A glimmer of mischief dances in my eyes.

Lando grins at my request, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. Leaning close, he murmurs under the steam of the shower, “I could never deny you a request like that, princess.”

The End

#lando norris #lando x reader #ln4 #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #max fewtrell

419 notes · View notes

ilyyoomi · 3 months ago

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ taste — kageyama tobio

kageyama tobio x gn! reader

kageyama is oblivious to everything and anything that’s not related to volleyball— he eats, sleeps, and breathes the sport like his life depends on it. some of his friends would even say he lives under a rock because of it. they say this because he doesn’t understand the pop culture references they make during water breaks, the memes they send in the group chat, or when girls are hitting on him during classes.

he’s hopelessly oblivious, and he carry’s it into his relationship with you.

in the beginning it was impressive how oblivious he was to your not so subtle hints at your feelings for him. the risky pick up lines you sent resulted in him sending you many question marks and a screen shot of a google search of your pickup line, and the hearts you’d draw on his worksheets somehow went unnoticed despite how many you drew.

with time he’s gotten better— he winks (tries) back at you instead of offering a tissue for the dust he thought was in your eye, and glares at the girls flirting with him when you’re next to him because he knows what flirting is (thanks to you). though there were times where all his progress goes back to square one.

you were in the front seat of the car with kageyama, snacking on treats picked up at the convenience store. once a week you both try some sort of new snack there, this time it was cookies and cream pocky sticks. the snack was pretty good, but they were so dry that you had to keep taking sips of water which washed off your lipgloss.

“hey tobio, can you pass me my lipgloss?”

“sure.” he reaches over and grabs the product in the front compartment, he even unscrews the cap off for you.

you smile taking the product then start applying a few layers on your bare lips. kageyama watches you the whole time, his midnights tracing over the outline of your fresh glossy lips. your heart flutters whenever he’s watching you— he has that look, it’s the same as when he’s on the court calculating his next move and it makes your knees feel weak because it’s like he’s thinking what to do with you next.

“do you wanna taste it? it’s cherry flavoured.” you ask, hinting at a kiss.

kageyama raises his brows, then reluctantly nods.

you close your eyes, bracing yourself for the feeling of his hands cupping your face to kiss you— but it doesn’t come. instead when you open your eyes you see kageyama leaned over towards the lip gloss applicator literally tasting it like it’s some sort of treat.

“uhm. this doesn’t taste very good…” he sticks his tongue out disgusted and disappointed.

“tobio…”

“yeah?” he asks like he didn’t just miss what you meant earlier.

“i meant this.” you lean over to plant a kiss on the corner of his lips leaving a shimmery kiss mark.

kageyama’s face burns as bright as the stop sign a few roads ahead of you— not just from the kiss but from his embarrassment of not getting what you meant by ‘taste.’

“oh— that’s what you meant. i’m sorry.” he apologies with so much embarrassment and sincerity that it makes you melt inside.

“hey it’s okay.” you place your hand on top of his and give him a reassuring squeeze. “wanna make it up to me?”

and the disappointment from his lips not on yours earlier disappears, because this time he gets what you mean and kisses you— tasting you along with the cherry flavoured lipgloss.

kageyama is oblivious, but you adore this boy so much that you wouldn’t have him any other way.

authors note: i wrote this based off a tik tok i saw abt a girl being oblivious to a guy wanting to kiss her when she was putting on lip gloss HAHA (i can’t find it anymore) i hope u enjoyed!! reblogs or comments are appreciated <33

#haikyuu #haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq #hq x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama x reader #tobio kageyama x reader #tobio x reader #kageyama tobio fluff

565 notes · View notes

deanssluvr · 5 months ago

Text

midnight memories

pairings: frat!joost klein x fem!reader, friends to lovers

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drugs. SMUT. handjob. cowgirl. unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it). mdni.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: I did it. Literally couldn’t think of anything else but this. yes the title is based on a one direction song. It’s what sparked this idea. hope yall like it. requests for Joost Klein are open.

You entered your new dorm, heavy boxes in your arms. You always hated this process of moving back in. But you were happy about the upgrade. Only one roommate this time, and a bathroom in your dorm meaning no more communal bathroom. You walked to your shared living room and you set the boxes on the floor. A loud crack as they hit the ground. You cursed yourself as you knelt to open the box and assess the damage.

“Fuck.” You picked up the pieces of the now broken desktop mirror. You loved this mirror because it was so convenient and you’ve had it since your freshman year. But now you have to trash it. You decided it was a good idea to pick up the pieces with your bare hands, but quickly regretted it when one of them cut your hand. You let a string of curses leave your mouth as you rushed to the sink. You winced as cold water washed over your wound. You spent 15 minutes tending to your hand and finally wrapped it in gauze.

You walked back out to your car to grab another box. As soon as you picked it up, your wound stung but you ignored it. You just wanted to finish unpacking as quickly as possible. You treaded back up the stairs to your dorm and stopped at your door. You set the boxes on the ground so you could get your keys out of your pockets.

“Heyyyy” You knew that voice and you groaned.

“Hey, Joost.” You turned to see your friend Joost standing in the doorway. He was in a plain white shirt and black sweatpants. You were confused about what he was doing in the girl dormitories, especially during move-in day. “What’re you doing here?”

“I’m just here to help a girl move in.” You knew he was lying.

“Right. You’re just gonna help her. That’s it. Isn’t that how you ended up sleeping with my roommate last year?” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“What? First, that was a coincidence. And second I’m genuinely going to help her.” He attempts to explain himself. Because he was looking for a reason to see you, but he would never admit that.

“No. I don’t believe it. You do this all the time. You’re just trying to sleep with her.” You finally find your key in your pocket and open your door.

“I would never. What do you take me for? A whore?” You looked at him, giving him his answer. It’s not a secret that he sleeps with a lot of girls. And you see why. He’s attractive but cocky and you would never give him the satisfaction. He looks at your hand and sees the bandage. His face changes to concern and he gently picks up your hand. You wince a little at the contact and he apologizes, examining the wound. “What happened?”

“I broke my mirror that’s all.” You should’ve pulled away, but you didn’t. His hands were gentle with yours. Almost as if he cared. He looked at you with expression you couldn’t make out.

“Let me help you unpack the rest of your stuff.” He offers as he picks up the boxes that are still sitting next to the doorway.

“Are you trying that trick on me?” You raised your brow at him.

“I mean is it working?” He smirked, but you weren’t falling for it. “I’m kidding. I promise. I just want to help you out.” He gave you a genuine smile. You opened the door to your dorm allowing him to come in and set the boxes down.

—

After some time, the boxes finally made their way to your dorm. The hard part was over. You both sat on your couch, collectively deciding to take a well-needed break. It was silent between the both of you, but comfortable silence.

“We’re throwing a party tomorrow to celebrate coming back. You should come.” You knew exactly what party he was talking about. His frat always throws the biggest parties at the beginning of the year. They’re known for it.

“I don’t think I have a choice. My friends are dragging me there.” You chuckled looking at the unopened boxes that now littered your floor. If you looked at him, you would’ve seen him. looking at you like he thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Which is exactly what he thought. He was so incredibly in love with you and has been since freshman year. But he would never tell you that. He believes that you deserve better. Better than him at least. He was brought out of his trance by his phone vibrating. He took it out of his pocket and looked at it and sighed.

“Hey I’m sorry but I gotta go. The guys need wanna go shopping for tomorrow. But I can stay if you need help.” He hoped you’d ask him to stay. Partially because he doesn’t feel like going and mostly because he wants to stay here with you.

“No, I’ll be fine. All I gotta do is unpack at this point. Plus my roommate should be here in an hour and she can help me if I need it.” you give him a reassuring smile. “Plus if you want to help somebody, I’m sure that girl that you mentioned probably still needs it.” you laugh and he rolls at you.

“You got jokes?” he gives you a smirk and playfully laughs. When you both stop you’re just looking at each other. It was quiet between the both of you.

“Uhm well, I should head out before they leave without me.” He looks away and gets up. You both say your goodbyes before he leaves your dorm.

—

You and your friend had decided to get ready together in your dorm since it was closer to where the party was being held. Your friends all crowded into your bathroom trying to finish their makeup. You had already completed it before they arrived and now struggling to pick an outfit. You just wanted something comfortable but cute because you’ll most likely be on your feet all night. You finally settled on an outfit that you were happy with and picked up your phone.

“Guys, we’re already 45 minutes late.” You yelled across from across the hall. You groaned when you heard no response and walked over to the bathroom. 2 of them were already finished while one was still working on her makeup.

“Sophie, how much longer are you gonna be? Because at this rate we’ll never make it to the party.” everyone laughed except Sophie.

“I’m sorry. This lash isn’t sticking no matter how much glue I put on it.” You watched as she tried placing a lash on her eye again only to take it off in frustration. Walking over, you take the lash out of her hand. You reapplied the lash glue and gently grabbed her face. You carefully placed the lash on her eye.

“How does that look?” You both were looking at her in the mirror.

“It looks so good thanks.” She smiled.

“Okay. Well, let’s get going.” All four of you quickly gathered your things and made your way out of your dorm.

—

The walk to the frat house wasn’t too long which you were grateful for. As you walked up to the place you could hear the music blaring and see multiple different colored lights through the windows. You and your friends arrived at the front door and were greeted by two guys. Obviously, they were members of the frat.

“Heyyy ladies.” One of them greeted you. Both of them looked at you and your friends like you guys were a full-course meal. It creeped you out. They moved out of the way to let you all in. The fraternity house throbbed with pulsating basslines that reverberated through every corner. Dim lights flickered overhead, casting shadows that danced against the walls as bodies moved to the rhythm of the music. It was packed. Two of your friends went to find their boyfriends and promised they’d meet up with you later into the night. Leaving you with Sophie who was already eyeing a guy.

“Wanna go get drinks?” You pull her from her trance, and you both stumble through the crowded living room, waving to familiar faces and exchanging playful banter. You both finally made your way to the drink table. You looked at the mystery punch and immediately passed it up opting for a beer. You were about to pick one out of the cooler before a rowdy group of students clamored over the table looking for refills. You rolled your eyes, grabbed your desired drink, and found your back to Sophie. She softly nudged your arm.

“Hey isn’t that the cute frat guy that you’re always around.” You looked in the same direction as her and your eyes met Joost’s. The room seemed to quiet down for a moment. The both of you just smiled at each other. Sophie grabbed your attention by pulling you by the arm.

“Let’s go dance!” You nodded and gave one quick look over to him again, but he had already turned back to talk to his friends. The part of the room that was considered the dance floor was tightly packed. But Sophie was able to find a spot in the crowd for the both of you. Your favorite song had come and Sophie was screaming the lyrics with you. You both were feeding off the energy of the crowd, dancing along with them. You had to admit that the playlist was fantastic because never was there one full moment on that dance floor. You were too busy having fun to notice Joost’s eyes on you. He had completely zoned out of his friends’ conversation to look at you. He was mesmerized by the way your body moved to the music. His mind drifted to dirtier things as he thought about his hands exploring your curves as you danced against him. He was quickly pulled from his trance by his friends pulling him to go get more shots. But after 15 minutes you were getting quite tired. Then one of the frat guys from earlier asked her to dance. She looked at you with pleading eyes.

“It’s okay. Go have fun. I’m gonna go take a break.” You tried yelling over the music, but she heard you anyway. She mouthed you a thank you and was pulled away to another part of the dance floor, leaving you to yourself. You made your through the crowd. You wanted to find somewhere where you could breathe for a moment, so you made your way to the front. You passed two guys on the threadbare couches who seemed to be engaged in a debate over something. On the patio outside, you leaned against the railing, escaping the heat and chaos inside. you watched as groups of friends played beer pong with fervor, their competitive spirits adding to the party's vibrant energy. The cool night air offered a brief respite from the sensory overload indoors.

“Want some company?” Turning your head, you see Joost walking over to join you. You smiled softly, silently allowing him to stand out on the patio with you. You both didn’t say anything for a few moments. You feel the cool breeze blow past, letting the heat you felt earlier go with it. You hear him dig through his pocket for something.

“You want one.” He offered as he held out a box of cigarettes. You shook your head, and took one out, putting it between his lips. He pulled out a lighter and lit it. You watched as he inhaled and blew the smoke into your face.

“Oh my god. You asshole.” He chuckled as he watched as you fanned the smoke away from your face which resulted in you laughing. A few moments pass again before you speak again. “Can I ask what you’re doing out here? I thought you would’ve been doing something stupid with your friends or trying to get in some girl's pants.” You took another sip of your beer.

“All of my friends are wasted,” he paused briefly, “And the only girl I care about is standing right here.” You looked at him in disbelief, but he was avoiding your eyes.

“You mean…” that statement could mean anything. You watched as he took in a breath and looked at you. It was dark with only the light of from the party seeping through the window behind you. Through the faint multi colored light you could see the hesitation in his face.

“I mean I like you. Like really like you.” You’d never seen him nervous until now. He flirts with so many other girls, but when it comes to you it’s different. He tries to read your face for any sign that you might feel the same.

“Joost I…” Words were lost to you. Nothing you could think of didn’t feel like enough of a response for him.

“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t expecting you to feel the same.” He gave you a pathetic smile. A bad attempt at hiding how he was feeling. “I was just tired of you not knowing how I really felt.” He sighed. He was sure that he just ruined everything between the both of you. He dropped the cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. Anything to avoid your gaze. But you gently grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you. You watched as his eyes scanned over your face. He thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. You finally pull him into a kiss. He was caught off guard but enjoyed it nonetheless. He was hesitant to touch you at first, but his hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer to him.

Out of nowhere, a group of clearly drunk guys came yelling and laughing out of the party. They noticed you and Joost and cheered him on. You both pulled away a bit embarrassed. Joost more than you. You can see a faint blush rise on his cheeks and you giggle at him.

“I know somewhere more private.” He took you by the hand and you both went back inside. He pushed his way through the crowd of people. The energy still hadn’t died down in the slightest. As you both made your way through the crowd, you spotted Sophie still dancing with the guy from earlier. Then you saw your other friends watching their boyfriends play beer pong and losing. Joost led you up some stairs and into a hallway, which was crowded with random people making out with each other. It was awkward pushing past them, but you did it anyway.

He stopped once he arrived at a room. He opened the door and you both went inside. He locked the door behind you. The room was relatively tidy. You looked around and saw multiple posters littered on his walls. All pictures are different from artists to video games. There was also a flag that you assumed was from where he’s from.

You lifted his shirt over his and tossed it somewhere on the floor. Your hands were quick to explore the exposed skin.

“Is this okay?” You felt his hands reach up your back to your zipper. He was nervous and he hated it. You were the only one who made him feel like this. You nodded. He unzipped it and lifted it over your head. Then toss it on the floor along with the rest of your clothes. His lips found their way to your neck, kissing and sucking where he could. His hands carefully reach up your back to your bra. When he tries to unclasp it, he starts having trouble. You couldn’t help but giggle at the struggle, so you reached back to do it for him. He slides it off your arms and tosses it aside. One of his hands was in your hair, pulling you into another kiss. Your fingers unbuttoned his jeans and wrapped around his desperate cock and started stroking softly. He pulled away and inhaled sharply. You pick up the pace and he leans his head back, a low groan escaping his lips. You leaned forward kissing and sucking at the new exposed skin. He curses under his breath and grabs your hand, stopping your actions.

“I need to fuck you schat (baby).” he breathes, panting hard, his chest heaving. He sounded desperate. He sat up on your knees giving him room to pull his pants and underwear down. You pulled your panties to the and grabbed him, lining him up with your entrance. You slowly sank, letting yourself adjust to his size. One of Joost's hands went to your waist, to help support you. You sank lower, having to bite your lip but unable to stop a low moan from escaping you. Once he was fully inside you stopped. You placed a hand on his chest gently pushing so he was lying on his back. He had many meaningless one-night stands, but you were more than that to him. His eyes scanned over your body and he looked at you like you were the most beautiful girl to him, a goddess even. His hands come to rest on your hips. Without warning you start moving your hips at a quick pace. You feel his fingertips digging into your soft flesh. Strings of curses mixed with broken praises leave his lips. His breathing was fast and heavy, and while he continued rubbing you, he had a moan of his own escape him.

"Fuck," he said, the curse not typical for him. "You're so tight." You were becoming a moaning mess with every thrust. The loud music still blaring downstairs was the only sound blocking your near pornographic noises. You looked down at him while you moved. There was a light film of sweat on his brow and his face was one of utmost pleasure as he watched where you both connected. It was filthy and beautiful he thought to himself. He knew you were both close when your movements became messier. So he sat up, his arm around your back. He was meeting your movements with his thrusts, pulling you against him. His mouth landed between your neck, kissing you there, as he kept using his new leverage to fuck up into you. In this new position, he was able to find your sweet causing this newfound pleasure to surge through you as he relentlessly kept hitting it.

“I’m going to, i’m clo-“ You could barely talk, but Joost knew what you were saying.

“It’s okay. I want to feel you come.” He thrusted up into you a few more times and you held onto his neck for support. That was enough to bring you over the edge. Your orgasm hit you like a train and it felt as though fireworks were going off all over your body. He followed suit as he came only a few seconds behind you. His grip on your hips was tight as he brought himself over the edge. Then he stuttered to a stop, breathing heavily, his face against yours. When it was over you nearly collapsed on Joost, your forehead falling on his shoulder. He laid you both back, careful of how sensitive you were at the moment. You both lie there catching your breath. Your hand rubbed soft circles over his chest.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” This question had been gnawing at you since he said it, “about liking me?” He looked down at you in disbelief. But then he realized he was never the most honest with girls of his past and you knew this. But he wanted to make you see that you were different from any other girl he’d met.

“I meant every word. I promise.” You chose to trust and believe him. As much as you wanted to speak further about it, sleep was quick to take over you. Your eyes fluttered closed and he noticed.

“Slaapwel (goodnight).” He placed a kiss on your forehead and that was the last thing you felt before you blissfully fell asleep.

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost klein x fem!reader

309 notes · View notes