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pearlessance · 2 months

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Locked Doors - Idle Threats [ii]

Series Summary — Joel has watch duty with Jackson’s twenty-year old, smart-mouthed brat and gets more than he bargained for.

Chapter Summary — You leave your front door unlocked. The devil invites himself in.

Pairing — Joel Miller/Reader

Warnings — Explicit sexual content MDNI, brat taming, age gap, mean!Joel, religious imagery and symbolism, catholic guilt

SERIES MASTERLIST

[crossposted to AO3]

In truth, Joel is glad to be rid of you.

Not because he didn’t enjoy himself, but because he’d enjoyed the night with you too much. The two of you had fallen into an easy, respectful energy for the remainder of your watch.

Joel discovers you’re quite funny when he isn’t the butt of all your jokes. And he knows you’re beautiful, painfully so—but when you smile at him, truly smile, it lights up your whole face and ignites a warmth inside him he can’t explain, that he doesn’t even want to think about.

So, yeah, it’s a bit of a relief when the next two watchmen take over and you go your separate ways. Joel sleeps real heavy that night, more relaxed than he’s been since he set foot in Jackson.

Until Tommy knocks on his door that afternoon, that is. The moment Joel opens it his brother asks, “What the hell did you do to her last night?”

Joel feels his anxiety spike. Tommy knows him better than anyone else, and he’s not sure why he thought your tryst in the tree blind would ever be kept secret. And he knows he shouldn’t lie, but he’s too embarrassed, too afraid of his brother’s judgment. So he shrugs and says, “We…had a conversation.”

“Conversation?” Tommy laughs and shakes his head, pushing into Joel's house. He sits at the kitchen table beside Ellie, who’s shoveling a bite of scrambled eggs into her mouth. “Nah. Nah, I don’t believe that.”

Hesitantly, Joel asks, “Why not?”

“That girl has been a pain in my ass every single day. Someone has a complaint about her, or she’s hollerin’ about something or other. Never does as she’s told—fights Maria and I on everything.”

You listened to him real well last night. Joel resists the smirk that tugs on his lips.

Tommy continues. “So, I’m sure you can imagine my surprise when she comes knockin’ this morning asking Maria if she can take the rest of Mike’s shifts. After she threw a big tantrum about having to cover one of them.”

No. No. Joel’s mouth goes dry.

He can’t spend another night with you. He can’t. He’s not strong enough.

Ellie’s brows furrow together as she looks between the two brothers. “Who?”

“Strawberry scone,” Joel supplies with a casual wave of his hand.

“Oh, my future wife,” Ellie corrects. Then she turns to Tommy with a scowl. “Be nice when you talk about her.”

“She ain’t nice,” he counters.

Joel remembers how nice you’d been, begging him for mercy, begging for his hands, his mouth, his cock. How nice it sounded when you apologized to him, using that warm, wet tongue of yours as a weapon. He swallows. “We just talked. That’s all.”

Tommy eyes him suspiciously but doesn’t push the subject and Joel’s grateful for it. Instead, he says, “Yeah, well—maybe y'all can have a conversation about her giving Maria a break. She’s been back from that run for a month and she still won’t even talk to her. Maria’s tried, but she pretends she can’t hear or see her. Like she’s invisible.”

Ellie chuckles but quiets herself with another bite of eggs when Joel turns and scowls at her.

It’s a valid concern, Joel thinks. Maria and Tommy have been good to the people of Jackson, have been good to you. Given you a place to stay, a warm bed to sleep in, the protection of monitored walls. All in exchange for a little physical labor.

Joel doesn’t know what happened on that run for Maria’s barbecue flavored chips, but he understands being angry. Complete and total silent treatment is a bit harsh, however. And for weeks at a time? It’s childish, absurd—bratty. He gives his brother a reassuring nod. “I’ll…see what I can do.”

Tommy thanks him, steals a forkful of Ellie’s eggs, and bolts out of the door as she yells after him.

Once he’s gone and the noise has quieted, the panic begins to set in.

He can’t be in there with you for another night. Joel knows he has to do something, find someone to cover his watch. Maybe Bonnie will be willing to switch him for a day or two. Just until Mike returns, until Joel can control his errant desires.

“I’ve got some stuff to get done today,” he tells Ellie.

“Stuff?”

“Yeah, just…don’t go far,” he says, evading her question. “And don’t go alone, either. Stay with Dina.”

He half expects her to make some witty remark, but she must see something in him that stops her. Ellie nods slowly and asks, “Everything okay?”

No, it wasn’t. Not even close. But there’s no subtle way to explain his turmoil, no words to make her understand that Joel was currently at odds with himself and his morals. That perhaps he’d damned himself, damned you, all for a single night of perfect bliss. So he shrugs and says, “Fine.”

Bonnie’s house is a short walk from his. And when she opens the door, Joel can see her son lying on the couch in the living room. His cheeks are red and he’s got his thumb in his mouth, staring off into space. He can’t be older than four, and Joel begins to feel guilty before he can even say a word. “Joel? Everything alright?”

God, what was with people and that question today? Joel looks away from the little boy on the couch and instead at his mother, who has the same blonde curls.

He has to ask, doesn’t he? He has to. This is about more than just his peace of mind. It’s about your safety. Safety from him. And you deserve that, after all. Being a brat doesn’t mean you deserve to be preyed upon by an older man.

So, Joel swallows and forces the words out. “Hey, Bonnie. I was just wondering if maybe you could switch with me tonight. I’ll take your watch today if you’ll take the night shift.”

Please say yes. Please say yes.

Her green eyes soften, and Joel knows the answer before she speaks. “Oh, I…I’m sorry, Joel. It’s just that Sammy is sick, and…and I feel bad enough being gone all afternoon, you know? And I don’t want to leave him during the night. You can understand, right?”

He nods quickly, not wanting to make more of a scene than he already has. “No, yeah, of course. Completely. I’m sorry I asked.”

They say their goodbyes, and Bonnie suggests that he ask Greg instead.

But that thought unnerves him even more than being alone with you himself.

Greg is older than Joel by almost ten years, pushing sixty-five. And he doesn’t think he’s that type of guy—but Joel didn’t think he was that type of guy until he’d been left alone with you, either.

Maybe he’s wrong, though. Maybe Greg has more morality. Maybe he’s not as bad a man as Joel. Maybe he has more resistance to the forbidden fruit.

Maybe you’re safer with him.

It’s because of that particular thought Joel winds up on Greg’s porch.

And Greg gives him that same sympathetic look Bonnie did, and Joel’s back to square one. “I’ll ask around, though,” Greg says. “See if anyone else is willing.”

Joel thanks him, and busies himself in the stables, in the armory, in anything that keeps his hands busy and his thoughts far from you. He sends a prayer to whatever god may exist, hoping Greg will find him and let him know someone is interested in his shift. Not that Joel would be deserving of forgiveness nor a favor— especially from anyone worth praying to—but it doesn’t hurt to try.

Nightfall comes too soon and eventually, he decides that maybe it’s better to seek out the source of the problem. To tear out the rot by the roots.

You answer the door after the second knock. You’re leaning against the frame, wearing those jeans again—that dark wash denim that’s skin tight, a gentle stitch of gold down the seam of the pockets.

Joel wonders where you found them, wonders how it’s possible that he’s been reduced to finding so much sex appeal in a pair of jeans, for Christ’s sake. Your black t-shirt is cut into a low V shape, and your breasts are pushed up because of your bra, providing him with a view so tempting it hurts.

“I hear you’re trying to get rid of me,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him. “If you didn’t like me, the least you could do is say so. Kinda shitty I had to find out from Greg, of all people.” You turn away from him and walk inside, leaving the door wide open.

It’s an invitation. But Joel hesitates, because he knows, he knows what happens when he’s alone with you. Knows just how far he’ll go, how much he wants it. He’s not sure if it’s desire or shame or excitement that coils around his spine, gripping tight.

But it’s rude, isn’t it, to refuse? It’s not like you’re doing anything to tempt him apart from existing. Joel can handle that, can’t he? He’ll just explain himself. Have a quick five minute conversation about why he needs to avoid you at all costs, why you cannot—cannot—be on watch duty with him for another day.

And then he’ll leave. Wipe his hands clean of the guilt, the sin, of you.

Joel walks inside and closes the door behind him. “You need to tell Maria you can’t be on watch tonight,” he says.

Your house is small but cozy, more personalized than the other homes in Jackson. Cluttered with things you no doubt picked up on some of your runs—framed photos of landscapes, whimsically shaped, half-burned candles, a crinkled and slightly water damaged band poster that reads The Bravery. The kitchen on his left is quaint, the counters occupied by stacks of old, worn books. There’s an old vase with a faded picture of a cat sitting on the stove, filled with mismatched utensils. A small, square table sits in the corner with two upholstered chairs and in front of one of them, a leather-bound journal sits with a pen beside it.

Joel suddenly, more than anything else, wants to know what’s in that journal. Thinks about sneaking in late at night to flip through it. It’s well loved, and he knows even from several feet away that inside of it is you. The parts you don’t share with others, the parts he desperately wants to unearth.

“And why would I do that?” You follow his gaze and casually move to close the journal. You wrap the leather cord around it twice, pick up the pen, and toss both into an inconspicuous drawer.

“Because I said so,” Joel says sharply. He’s standing by the front door still, and his skin prickles as you close the distance. And for good measure, he adds, “Because you’re not feeling well. You’re sick.”

You’re standing so close now he can feel the heat of your skin, beckoning to him, pulling him in. You’re so magnetic that he doesn’t pull away when you grab his hand and place his palm against the side of your neck. “Does it feel like I have a fever?”

Feverish? No. Warm, soft, addictive? Yes. Joel can feel your pulse beneath his hand, strong and steady. He can feel himself losing the battle already. He pulls his hand away and closes it into a fist behind his back. “Stop,” he says. “We can’t do this.”

You snort but turn away to give him some much needed space. “You can’t, you mean.”

He steps forward on instinct and freezes. He can’t bring himself to retreat, but he has the strength still to keep from going to you, from seeking you out just to feel you in his hands. That has to be enough. Joel knows he needs to say what he has to say and leave, before his resistance withers into nothing. “People are already starting to talk.”

“People,” you mock. “You mean your brother?” When he doesn’t deny it, you continue. “Let me guess—he said something this morning, asking about what we did all because I said I would pick up a couple of extra shifts.”

Joel doesn’t mention the other things Tommy said, about you being a pain in his ass. Joel can relate to it. “He also said you’ve been blatantly ignoring Maria.”

“No fucking shit I’ve been ignoring her,” you snap. But your eyes widen as Joel’s whole body tightens, seeing the mistake.

But he isn’t here for that. He’s not. If you’re going to be a foul-mouthed brat, so be it. It’s not his place to discipline you. It can’t be. “You need to give her a break. Maria’s done right by all of us.”

“Why? Because you said so?” You laugh, and it’s a sick, maniacal sound that grates against his nerves. So different than the soft airy giggles he’d heard last night. “Cut the shit and be honest with yourself, Joel. You want me to be nice to Maria so you don’t have to hear Tommy bitch about me anymore and you want me off watch duty with you because you’re afraid of me.”

“Afraid? Of a little girl?” Joel thinks you're joking at first. But you’re not laughing anymore, and when he realizes you’re serious he lets out a long sigh of frustration. It releases the tension in his shoulders just enough to keep him from losing it. “You think you know everything, but you don’t.”

“Well I’m not wrong,” you say, brows raised.

It’s the attitude that gets to him, the contempt. Joel can’t stand it. He wants to take you by the throat and force you up against the wall. But he doesn’t, using the last of his patience to keep his feet planted firmly on the welcome mat.

“It was so good,” you say, the cadence of your voice lowering to a near whisper. There’s a warmth in your eyes that makes his chest ache. “I know you felt it too. You can’t tell me you didn’t. And even if you did, I wouldn’t believe you. I don’t believe you, Joel.”

The sound of his name in your mouth is nearly his undoing. It’s so pretty, you’re so pretty. Joel swallows hard, suddenly aware that for all he defiled yesterday, he’s never kissed you. Not truly.

He’s kissed your forehead, your cheek, has tasted your skin and the wetness between your thighs. But he’s never once tasted the inside of your mouth or felt your tongue against his.

Joel clenches his teeth.

He can’t. He shouldn’t.

But he has to. Good fucking God, he has to.

Joel reaches you in two strides. Your eyes widen in fear, but the moment he places his hands on either side of your face you’re melting, becoming pliable material for him to manipulate. Joel tilts your head up and leans down, crushing his mouth to yours.

You’re gripping his brown leather jacket, trying to keep your balance. But he’s crowding you, forcing himself into your space, into your mouth, pressing himself against you as if every inch of separation pains him.

Joel thinks you taste like bad decisions, like pomegranate seeds and glowing apple slices, like poisonous peach pits, like something so tempting it’s forbidden for good reason. He bites in anyway, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and dragging it out. You moan at the deviation from heaven, and he grabs a fistful of your ass and drags you impossibly closer as a low growl leaves his throat.

He knows you can feel his cock through his jeans, pressing hard against your belly, but Joel does his very best to ignore it as he licks every soft part of you. He wants to remember this, to savor it, because he promises himself it’ll be the last time he ever takes advantage of you.

When he pulls away, Joel’s gasping for air like he’s never been kissed before. Like this is his first time, like you’re his first. It’s certainly the only time it’s ever been like this, heavy and weighted, hot and desperate and sacrilegious.

Your eyes are glassy and beautiful as you look up at him, fingers still clutched in his jacket. “You’re afraid of me, Joel,” you repeat, snaking a hand between you and rubbing his cock, squeezing softly over the denim. “You’re afraid of how good this feels because you’ve never been able to hold onto anything good in your entire life.”

And, distracted by the soft feel of your mouth, by your hand, he’s able to listen. To rid himself of guilt, of shame, truly hearing you. Joel silently wonders if you’ve been the conductor of this mess all along, if you’ve somehow seen behind the scenes, if you are, impossibly, the one who’s manipulated him. Because how else would you be able to rip those razor-sharp truths out of him? Truths he’s never faced, truths he’s never planned to.

“It slips through your fingers every time, like smoke,” you say.

Joel can’t pull himself away, can’t reestablish that distance he so carelessly erased. You feel too good, touching him, sighing softly between words as if he were the one touching you.

“And so you’ll push me away, so far that you can forget whatever it is you feel for me. And it’ll work. For a little while, anyway.” You rise to your tiptoes, swollen lips a breath away from his ear. “But one day you’ll be laying in bed with some lovely, soft spoken, age-appropriate woman, and you’ll look over at her and you’ll imagine me in her place. And I think you’ll miss bossing me around, and teaching me how to behave for you, and how good it feels to be inside of me.” His cock throbs in his jeans, and he feels you smile against his skin. “I think you’ll miss me real bad, Joel Miller.”

The picture you paint is a dreary one, and it leaves Joel cold. Even colder when you finally step back and he can’t feel the warmth of your skin anymore, the heat of your breath. But he doesn’t say that, because this feels like a goodbye—the goodbye he came here for. Joel steels himself, pushing that God-forsaken image far from his brain. “Tell Maria you’re sick,” he orders.

And then he’s leaving, and it hurts to slam the door behind him, but he does it.

For the first time in days, Joel feels a drop of redemption trickle back into his bloodstream.

Thankfully, you don’t show up to the tree blind to relieve Greg and Bonnie. But no one else does either, and Joel knows that you never even attempted to speak to Maria. A last-ditch effort at defiance.

When they ask about you, he lies easily and says, “She’s running a little behind. Go on home, you’ll probably pass her on the way.”

And they do as he suggests, leaving Joel in the tree blind alone with his thoughts.

It’s almost as dangerous as being alone with you, because your words echo in his brain. I think you’ll miss me real bad, Joel Miller.

He will. He does. Already, he misses the way your body feels against his. He misses the taste of your soft tongue. He misses your sweet laughter and carefree demeanor. He misses the innocence in your eyes when you look up at him like he has all the answers. Joel wants to give them to you, wants to take care of you. Wants to make you feel good, to protect you, to keep you safe.

But you’re right. Goddamnit, you’re right. He is afraid of you. Terrified, in fact—because it could so easily turn into more than just physical need, more than just sinful desire. That one day you spoke into existence could come and he’d miss more than how it feels to be inside you, he’ll just miss you.

Joel knows how dangerous that is. It’s bad enough he’s gotta worry about Tommy and Ellie. Why would he want to add another name to that list? Another person he’d die for, another person he’d kill for.

It’s no good. He’s no good.

Joel feels the ghost of your mouth against his and can’t resist pressing his knuckles to his lips, hoping to cement your DNA there so he can keep the lingering taste of you forever.

But if not him, who else will take care of you? It’s dangerous outside these walls.

It’s only then he remembers his conversation with Tommy and Maria, who wouldn’t let Joel be on watch alone. Yet they let you go on runs alone, and often.

The realization has his blood boiling.

Because if not him, then who? Some other, older man? Someone capable of enduring your fury, your foolishness, of knowing when to have a heavy hand and when to touch you softly? No.

Fuck no.

By the time his shift is over and the next two patrolmen come to relieve him, Joel knows right where he’s headed. They ask him where you went, if you ever showed up—and he covers for you. Saying, “I cut her loose early so she could get some sleep.”

At first, he’s not sure why there’s an innate desire within him to lie for you, to keep you safe from ridicule or consequence.

But as he’s walking to that white house on the corner of the street, Joel realizes that it’s because he doesn’t want anyone else to punish you—ever.

That’s his job.

And, Christ, does he have plans for you.

Joel freezes a second before he bangs his fist against the door. The night is quiet and cold. The air is still. And, through the thin walls, he can hear you.

Can hear those sweet, soft moans. It’s faint, but it’s there. And Joel knows because those cute little sounds are forever embedded in his memory.

All the blood in his brain rushes south at the image his mind produces. He can almost see you; sprawled out on your bed, legs parted with your hand between your thighs. He wonders what you’re thinking about and selfishly hopes it’s him.

His hand shakes as he lowers it and reaches for the doorknob. You wouldn’t be so stupid, would you?

The question is quickly answered when he twists the handle and encounters no resistance. Joel suddenly thinks of a quote his old, southern pastor once told him when he was a kid. Fittingly enough, he’d used it in a sermon about abstinence.

Temptation is the devil looking through the keyhole. Yielding is opening the door and inviting him in.

But what is Joel to do when the devil leaves the door unlocked and wide open with a bratty little girl on the other side of it? How is he supposed to resist the forbidden fruit knowing just how sweet it tastes?

He just can’t help himself.

Joel eases his way inside, carefully closing the door behind him. He shrugs off his jacket and flannel, laying it over the back of the worn leather couch as if he belongs here. Your house is dark, but he’s able to follow the sound of your whimpering down the hallway. He pushes your bedroom door open as silently as he can—and what he finds is somehow a million times better than what he’d imagined.

You’re sitting in the center of your bed, straddling a pillow that’s folded in half between your legs. You’re facing the doorway, head tilted back and eyes closed in euphoria. Joel can see everything from here. The curtain over the window is open, the moonlight casting a purplish hue over your soft skin.

His whole body tenses up as he watches you, eyes stuck on the wet spot between your legs. Joel almost doesn’t believe you’re real, nearly convinces himself you’re some sort of backlit, demonic little thing. Sent to him by the devil himself to ensure his damnation. As if it somehow wasn’t already a guaranteed thing, because Joel doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his life, watching you desperately try to get yourself off.

You tilt your hips back and forth, moaning at the friction. The sounds you make are so beautiful, and Joel is thankful at this moment that you have little consideration for others. Because you’re moaning and whimpering loud enough that you don’t hear the wooden floor creak beneath his feet as he closes the space.

In a sick, sinister way, Joel enjoys the fact that he’s watching you, so close he could reach out and touch you, and you have no idea. Pretty, stupid little girl. Joel is a bad man, you know. Real bad. And he could do whatever he wanted to you right now. Could cover your mouth with his hand so you can’t scream, could force you to your knees and have his way with you.

You let out a sweet sounding gasp, and Joel knows you’re close, nearly there. He would bet your clit is throbbing against your pillow, pussy just aching to be filled.

More than anything, more than teaching you how dangerous it is to leave your doors unlocked in the dead of night, Joel wants to help you. Wants to make you feel good. Wants to show you that yeah, one day he may be lying next to another woman thinking of you, but he will be the only man to ever satisfy your sadistic cravings. No one will ever be able to touch you again and make you feel as good as he does.

He wraps his hand around your ankle and squeezes, anticipating the terrified cry you make in response. Joel holds tight, wrapping the other hand around your calf and pulling you to the edge of the bed.

But not before you reach behind, pulling a serrated sawback knife from beneath the sheets. It’s clutched tight between your fingers as you hold it towards him. Your frightened eyes soften as recognition comes. He can hear your breathing settle, but your chest is still heaving. He doesn’t think you notice as his hands begin to slide up your legs, over the softness of your thighs. “Joel? What are you doing? Did you break into my house?”

There isn’t a single trace of alarm in your voice anymore, even though you’re still pointing that knife at him. “Didn’t have to,” he says, completely unfocused on the point of the weapon. Joel leans forward, running his hands over the swell of your hips, your ribs. He takes both breasts in his hands, unable to hold back the groan at the heavy feel of them.

“I thought,” you swallow hard, inhaling a ragged breath. “I thought…you said—”

“I know what I said.” Joel takes the knife from your hand with ease and lays it on the battered nightstand. And the second he’s no longer under threat, he forces your back against the mattress and crawls between your legs, pulling them up over his hips.

He pushes his hard cock against you, the denim of his jeans rough against your bare, sensitive skin. He watches the way you immediately soak the fabric, evidence of your near-release. You prop yourself up on your elbows, brows knitted together, the cutest little pout on your lips. “Wait,” you say, and he does. “I just…I don’t understand.”

Joel sees the concern etched on your face and thinks you’ve never looked so vulnerable in front of him as your eyes search for an explanation. He doesn’t have one that makes sense, that justifies his being here, justifies his hands as they roam freely over your skin. He pushes his hand through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. “You don’t have anyone to take care of you,” he mutters. “I’m gonna keep you safe, baby. Real safe.”

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” you argue. “I can keep myself safe just fine.” He twists his hand in your hair, pulling lightly. His free hand comes between you, and Joel forces you to watch as he runs his thumb through your folds, spreading you open.

He doesn’t reply to your proclamation because he doesn’t believe it and he doesn’t think you do, either. He speaks as he circles your clit with the pad of his thumb softly. “But I gotta keep you safe from me, too, sweetheart. Can’t let an old man touch you like this. You’re just a little girl.”

Your back arches, pushing against his hand. You’re grinding against his cock over his jeans, and Joel can feel himself leaking at the warmth of you. You breathe his name, begging for more, begging for him like he knew you would.

Joel slides his thumb down further, smirking at the groan you let out as he pushes it inside you. “Precious little thing,” he whispers to himself. He switches his thumb for his middle finger, turning his hand palm up so he can press hard on that sweet spot inside of you. Your legs immediately start to tremble around him, and Joel smiles to himself knowing he’s barely touched you and already he’s accomplished what he set out to do. “I know, baby,” he says. “No one else can make you feel this good, huh? Not that pillow, not your hands, no other man but me.”

He releases his hold on your hair, letting you relax against the mattress. Your spine is still arched at the base, allowing him easy access to where you want him most. When he slips another thick finger inside of you, your hands clutch the sheets and your pleading gets a whole lot more convincing. “Joel, please—please just… mmm, Oh, God—”

Even though they burn his throat, Joel forces the words out before he loses the courage. “This is the last time, pretty girl. The last time I’ll ever touch you, okay? I promise. Gotta keep you safe…startin’ tomorrow.”

He almost wonders if you heard him, so lost in your satisfaction as he fucks you with his fingers. But then you lean forward, pulling eagerly at his leather belt, and he hears you say, “Liar.”

Joel knows you don’t believe him, but it’s true. He just needs to get it out of his system—to be inside of you knowing it’s the last time so he can savor it properly. To memorize it so he never forgets. He watches, enraptured, as you unbuckle his belt. Your hands are so much smaller than his, trembling lightly as you pull his cock out. He chuckles darkly as you lick your lips and hurry to line him up at your entrance. His middle and index fingers are still buried deep inside of you, hooked upwards right where you need him. “You want it now, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you say so quickly he laughs. “Please, Joel, please.”

With his free hand, he knocks yours away and presses his tip into you between his fingers. “Right now, huh? So fuckin’ needy, can’t wait one more minute. Just wanna be so full’a me you’re beggin’ for it, s’that it?”

He inches in further, leaving his fingers inside of you, watching the glorious stretch it makes, relishing in the whine you let out in response.

“Wait,” you say, fear laced in your voice as you realize his intent. Joel does—giving you the option to deny him, to say no. But you don’t. Of course you don’t. Instead, when your pretty eyes meet his dark gaze, something heated and curious appears on your face.

Joel sinks into you further, even as you toss your head back and force the air from your lungs in a ragged exhale. He knows it must feel so full —because he can feel every inch of you, squeezing him like a vice.

“It hurts,” you hiss, wincing. “Joel, I can’t—!”

“Yeah you can, baby,” he encourages. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Joel pulls back out slowly, cock glistening with your slick. “You say it hurts but this pretty pussy is just cryin’ for me, little girl.” When he pushes in again, stretching you slowly, he lets out a low groan at the feeling and doesn’t stop until he’s all the way in.

“Oh my God,” you whine, hooking your legs around his back. “It’s too much.”

“Is it?” Joel mocks, rocking his hips slowly. He can feel your body react immediately—walls fluttering around him with every movement. You’re a trembling, moaning mess, making an even bigger one all over the dark hair above his cock.

A single tear falls from the corner of your eye, and Joel leans forward to kiss it away. He presses his lips to your forehead and gently strokes the side of your face with his free hand. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I…it’s just,” you pause to let out an elated sigh as he thrusts in deep. “If this is the last time you—ohh, God, Joel—please, you’re gonna make me—”

“I know, little girl, I know,” he says. Joel thrusts his hips forward hard—once, twice, until your legs are shaking so bad he knows you’re one stroke away from combustion. And then he pulls his cock out of you, lips curling into a smirk at the whine you give in protest. “S’okay, baby, don't cry,” he promises, dropping to his knees and pulling you to the edge of the bed. “Wanna taste it, sweetheart.”

His mouth is bliss when he puts it on you, licking long, gentle strokes through your heat with his soft tongue. He uses both hands to spread your legs wide, holding you still even as you squirm, and his chest rumbles in satisfaction as he drinks you in. Joel wraps his lips around your clit and focuses his efforts there. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he groans against you as you tangle your hands in his hair, pulling him closer, grinding against his face as if you can’t get enough.

Joel understands. He really, really does. Because even when your body pulls tight and you moan his name over and over, soaking his facial hair, his chin, his mouth—it’s not enough. He wants more, wants you impossibly closer, wants to hear nothing but your moans for the rest of his life.

He doesn’t stop until your muscles begin to relax and your breathing slows. He releases your clit from between his lips and you shudder as he licks through your folds, devouring any trace of your orgasm left behind. The urge to praise your behavior rises in him, wanting to tell you how good you’re being, how perfect.

But this—tonight—is about Joel. It’s a selfish act, his taking you. It’s for his memory, for his satisfaction. Which is why, when he crawls back over you, Joel rests his calloused hand against your neck and crushes his mouth to yours. You open up immediately, giving him an all access pass to your tongue, moaning at his reverence. You taste so fucking sweet, and Joel knows just how easy it would be to find obsession in kissing you.

With his free hand, he reaches down and pushes his jeans off the rest of the way, the metal belt buckle clanging to the floor. He pulls away for only a second to grip the back of his shirt collar and pull it over his head, discarding it quickly.

And then he’s turning you over, grabbing your hips, and forcing them up. The sight of you with your face against the mattress and your arms braced in front of you, the enticing slope of your spine, your glistening, needy pussy—it’s almost too much. Joel’s cock throbs painfully, desperate to be inside of you. He runs his hands over the perfect globes of your ass, spreading you open. “You’re so pretty, baby. The cutest little girl I’ve ever seen,” he says, and your whimpering in response to his compliments is so cute it warms his heart.

You arch back for him, and Joel can’t resist his grin. You’re just so eager.

He gathers the spit in his mouth and lets it drip between your cheeks, watching it slide down your pussy until it reaches your clit. He lets out a sigh of relief as he pushes back into you, can’t resist leaning over and pressing sweet kisses to your spine. He won’t last long—not like this, buried so deep inside you there’s no end of you or beginning of him.

“Tell me how it feels,” he says. Joel’s thrusts are punishing and relentless. He slams into you, holding you down against the mattress with one hand and using the other to paw at your ass, pulling you back onto him every time he retreats. “This what you wanted? Hm? Wanted to be bent over and fucked like a whore, huh?”

“Yes,” you choke out. “It feels so good, Joel—fuck—”

His hips still. He fists his hand in your hair and pulls you up, back against his chest. His mouth is at your temple as he asks, “What was that?”

“I’m sorry—don't stop, don’t stop, please,” you beg. The words are desolate and frantic, but there’s a knowing, arrogant smirk on your face.

You’re playing him, Joel suddenly realizes. Playing into his games to get what you want—you clever, bratty little girl. His palms twitch with the urge to force you into true submission instead of whatever this forgery of it is.

But he can’t do that in a single night. And so Joel decides to give you exactly what you want instead.

He wraps one hand around your throat, squeezing lightly as he presses your head to his shoulder. He uses the other to reach down and stroke your clit in soft circles, thrusting up into you all the while. “Aw, baby,” he tuts. “Look at you. You’re so fuckin’ easy. Doin’ whatever I want you to. Lettin’ me fuck you however I want.”

“Oh God, oh God, oh God—Joel I’m gonna—!”

Joel thrusts harder, circles your clit faster. Arousal pools low in his belly at the delicious way you say his name. “Give it to me, baby. Yeah, there you go. Mmhm, thaaaat’s it.” You squeeze him hard, and Joel has to close his eyes to hold himself back.

Your moans are music to his ears, pretty little sounds that urge him on. His hand doesn’t stop, his hips don’t slow, and his mouth never quiets, filthy words sending you to immeasurable heights.

“Pussy was fuckin’ made for me. It’s soakin’ me so good. This what you like? Hm? Like to be fucked real rough, treated like a fuckin’ slut. That’s what makes it all wet, baby? Don’t you worry. I’ll give you everything you need, exactly what you’re beggin’ me for.” Joel feels your muscles go slack, but his hand on your neck only tightens, holding you upright. He doesn’t stop even as your hands fly to his between your legs, pulling at his wrist, needing reprieve.

“Joel, oh my God, please—I’m finished, I’m finished—!”

He presses your clit harder, fucks you deeper. “Ain’t this what you wanted? Didn’t want me to stop. Real sensitive, isn’t it?” His tone is so mocking, so mean. “Gonna fuck you till it hurts, pretty girl.”

You’re writhing in his hands, the cutest little tremors rocking through you. “It does, it does, Joel, please, it hurts so bad,” you cry. He kisses your tears away, savoring the taste of saltwater on his tongue.

“Tell me who’s pussy this is,” he whispers in your ear. “Tell me baby, who’s pretty pussy is it? Huh?”

No answer comes right away. You’re too fucked out, fucked stupid, thoughts emptying out of your head. But Joel is there, right at the precipice, and he has to hear it before he follows you.

“C’mon little girl, use your words. Tell me,” he gently urges.

“Yours! It’s yours, I swear, Joel, fuck, fuck—!”

He pulls out of you just in time to spill his come onto your back, his cock sliding against your ass. Joel feels satisfaction down to his bones, knows that it’ll be easier to resist you now that he’s succumbed to his indulgences.

But as the euphoria fades, the guilt slowly starts to seep in. Joel lays you gently against the mattress, chest heaving.

“Don’t move,” he says. And then he’s leaving your room, picking up his flannel from the back of the couch. When he returns, he wipes away the mess he made, cleans up the lingering wetness between your legs.

While you climb up the bed and slide your shaky limbs beneath the thick comforter, Joel starts to pull his clothes back on. When he’s dressed in his boxers and t-shirt you ask, “Joel? Can you…can you stay? Just for a little bit?”

Your voice is so timid, so mousy, as if you’re embarrassed to even ask. He’s never heard you like this before. It tugs on his heartstrings, makes him feel the beginnings of exactly what he’s been trying so hard to avoid.

That feeling chokes him, makes him feel covered in sin. Because you’re so young. So young that Joel should know better. He does know better. He’s just really, really bad at resisting temptation. Astronomically bad, in fact. And he doesn’t want to hurt you—truly, he doesn’t. Despite all he’s done and all he’s said, Joel has your best interest in mind. And he has no place there.

But, fuck, he wishes he did.

Words don’t come easily to him. They never have. Especially when he has so much to say. “‘Course,” is all he manages.

Joel climbs in bed next to you, shoulders relaxing for what feels like the first time in a very long time as he pulls you close. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, rests his cheek against the top of your head. He’s so warm, like a big cocoon of heat and safety.

The silence stretches on. And he thinks you may have fallen asleep already. But before you do, he says into the dark, “I didn’t mean it, you know. All the…the stuff I said. I don’t think you’re…”

You lift your head, turning those spellbinding eyes on him. He doesn’t know what to expect, but it certainly isn’t for you to give him an award-winning smile and say, “Good to know Joel Miller doesn’t think I’m an actual whore. If he did, whatever would I do?”

He doesn’t pick up on your sarcasm right away. And you must see something on his face that’s real amusing—because you burst into a fit of girlish giggles and Joel can’t help but mirror your grin.

“I’m kidding,” you say. And then you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his jaw. “Goodnight, Joel. You can let yourself out when you’re ready.”

He waits until you fall asleep, until your breathing evens out and you turn away from him on your side. Joel gathers his things quietly and leaves through the front door.

This time, he locks it up tight.

[part one] [part three]

#joel miller #ao3 fanfic #joel miller smut #ao3 writer #joel tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller self insert #joel miller fanfic #age difference #smut #idle threats #pearlessance

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papercorgiworld · 7 months

Text

Quiet a long night

Alternatively: Enzo’s deal with Mattheo

Enzo and Mattheo x reader

You can read this request as a summary, because I don’t want to reveal anything else.

Warning: not really a threesome, but still you get fucked by both Enzo and Mattheo, fingering, oral m and f receiving, submissive reader I guess, piv, overstimulationand maybe orgasm denial… I’m not good at warnings, but I’m sure you get it: 18+

Minimal plot, sorry. I hope it lives up to the expectations. I might have strayed a bit from the essence of the request. Not exactly a threesome, but the next best thing I guess, because I honestly believe Mattheo would go mental if he had to watch the woman he loves with another man. I’m going to be honest, I’m a softy so despite the jealousy this isn’t crazy rough, I mean this is just how I write but I did my best.

A/N: If you check out my little masterlist thingy, you’ll notice I added a little currently working on etc. This is because of some changes in life, which have me worried about how much time I’ll have to write so this way you can check up on what I’m doing.

Feedback is always welcome. Happy readings!

Tears are welling up but you hold them back as you tell Pansy everything that had happened the night before. Sympathetically she listens to your painned voice, while Lorenzo approaches you with a frown on his face as he listens in. “He just walked out and now we’re done. Can you believe it?” Enzo raises his eyebrows and uncrosses his arms to wrap you in his arms. “Mattheo’s an idiot sometimes. He’ll come around. He always does.” You huff through sobs as you break down in Enzo’s arms. “He needs to realize that I am not someone he can toss away whenever he wants to and then come back when it fits him.” Enzo places a soft kiss on your temple, arms still tightly embracing you. You stay in his arms for a while and Pansy who’s been silently watching the both of you chews her lip. “I’m not one to meddle, but if you really want Mattheo to realize that you won’t wait for him every time he gets confused over his daddy and mommy issues, you can always fake date Enzo. I’m sure Mattheo will learn.” With watery eyes you stare at Pansy, but slowly her idea starts to make a lot of sense. When you turn to look at Enzo with teary eyes he really can’t say no. A hesitant breath leaves his lips as he worries about what he’s getting himself into, before speaking up. “What are best friends for if it isn’t for fake dating.” He jokes and you cuddle up to him.

It only took Mattheo two days to lose his patience. He had endured enough of you two and was done watching you with him. You in Enzo’s lap laughing at his goofy acts. Enzo’s hand slowly moving down and resting on your ass. You wrapped in Enzo’s arms while he places a soft kiss on your forehead. Enzo leaning back in the common room just to wrap his arm around you, gently playing with your hair. Your hand on Enzo’s thigh tenderly moving up as he stares at you with adoring eyes. Mattheo was forced to watch it all.

When you and Lorenzo skipped breakfast and stayed in one morning, Mattheo had had enough. With gritted teeth and dark eyes Mattheo walks the hallways of the castle. Berkshire, you worm, you had no right to spend the night with my girl. We’re not together at the moment, but she’s still my one love and you know that, you little shit. Enzo was out of line. “Berkshire!” Enzo snapped his head around to find a fuming Mattheo approaching him. This was bound to happen, honestly Mattheo had held together for longer than Enzo expected him to. “You break it off with my girl, today!” Mattheo pushes Enzo against a wall, but Enzo bites back pushing Mattheo’s hands off of him. “Why would I do that when she’s so much fun?” Lorenzo’s suggestive teasing makes Mattheo’s heart squeeze tight. You were his girl, he needed you back. Mattheo reaches for his wand as his eyes burn with hate and he closes in on Enzo’s face. “You will step back, because I love her and I will have her back. I’ll kill for that brat, so go find someone else.” Mattheo’s voice is ice cold, but he doesn’t cast a curse. Lorenzo relaxes as he watches Mattheo turn away, but as soon as Enzo lets his guard down Mattheo throws a punch, hitting Enzo’s cheek hard, before calmly walking away.

***

Enzo lets himself fall next to you on the couch with a sigh. You immediately spot the bruise on his cheekbone with horrified eyes and gentle fingers, you brush his face. “It isn’t that bad.” Lorenzo whispers and you feel guilt well up. “This was a horrible idea.” Enzo meets your eyes with a comforting smile. He tugs your hand and you move to sit in his lap, brushing your lips over his. “Did he say something?” His eyes fall to his hand resting on your thigh. It takes a moment before Enzo meets your eyes, but when he does you notice how soft they are. “Matt loves you (y/n) and we both know you belong with him… so I guess it’s time we stop fooling around.” You look down to his hand, his thumb drawing soft circles on your thigh, and chew your lip. “What did he say exactly?” You wonder, does Mattheo really love you, does he really want you back? Lorenzo softly brushes his fingers through your hair, adoring your beauty. “It’s what you wanted right? He wants you back and I’m sure that he’s not gonna let go of you ever again.” You wanted Mattheo back so bad, you belonged with him, you were sure of that, but a part of you was going to miss Enzo. “I’ll miss our time together.” You whisper and meet his eyes. A soft smile tugs on Enzo’s lips. “Wish you could have us both?” You hide your face in the crook of his neck, before softly whispering: “Maybe.”.

***

You and Enzo decided to break things off tomorrow. After today’s classes you would have one last date night, which again ended with you underneath him.

You lay on your bed as his hands moved over your thigh, while he kissed and sucked on your neck, leaving small bruises. Your fingers entangle in his hair as you feel his hand slowly move under your dress and up to your panties. “Please, Enzo.” You moan and he traces kisses from your neck to your lips. “Take off that dress for me first.” You push him off of you and while he removes his shirt he watches you with hungry eyes as you reveal your lingerie to him. Instantly he’s back on top of you, his eyes scanning your body. “So fucking beautiful.” His fingers gently trace your bra, hips and thighs, before focussing on your panties. His hand slips underneath the soft fabric of your panties and a finger slides through your folds. “Wet, but not wet enough.” Lorenzo growls and with those words he enters a finger, sinking deep into you, making you moan. Your parted lips are a silent invitation for him to sneak his tongue in and eagerly explore your mouth. Muffled moans fill the room as his finger plays with your clit, making you arch your back and squirm underneath him. He feels your body tense as your orgasm builds up. “Not so quick, princess.” He pulls out his finger, making you whimper before whining. “Enzo.” You whine. Mattheo was right, you're spoiled rotten.

You watch him through hooded eyelids as he traces kisses over your breasts, while his hand sneaks to your back to unclasp your bra. His tongue eagerly moves over your perked nipples and you tug to his hair, whimpering underneath him as sensations build up. While his mouth plays with your nipples his hands are free to move down your panties a little, only separating his mouth from your boobs to carelessly throw your panties on your bedroom room. Enzo places soft kisses over your tummy, announcing his way down. You can feel your core get needy for him as he works his way down teasingly slow. “I beg you, Enz, please-” A soft cry interrupts your plea as his tongue slips between your folds. His hands grip your thigh forcing your legs open so he can press his face hard against your pussy. Soft desperate moans escape you, but it’s not enough for Enzo and his hands move to your boobs kneading them and fingers harshly playing with your sensitive nipples, while mercilessly devouring your cunt.

You cry out Enzo’s name as you buck your hips searching for that last touch to tip you over the edge. He grabs your ass like a brute angling you right so he can give you what you need, his tongue focused on your clit. Your lips part, but no sound comes out as you climax with Enzo’s mouth still working your pussy, thirsty to taste your juices. He finally moves away to watch you panting underneath him, slowly removing his pants and boxers revealing his large member to you. You squirm as you realize that Enzo was far from done with you, which only makes Lorenzo smirk as he jerks himself before crawling over you. He looked godly, fully naked and hovering over you, lustful for you.

He kisses you intensely and despite your already wobbly legs you bravely reach for his cock. You stroke Enzo’s painfully hard cock and he moans into the kiss, while you guide him to your entrance. “You’re so good for me.” Enzo whimpers as he slowly moves inside you, loving the feeling of your walls around him. Once he’s settled deep inside of you, Enzo grabs your hips and flips you in one swift move so you’re now on top of him. A cry leaves your lips at the sudden movement with his dick deep inside of you. “Move for me.” Enzo whispers as he brushes your hair out of your face. You nod with your mouth slightly agape and do as he asked. With your hands on his shoulders you bounce on his dick. You start slowly, but quickly try to pick up the pace. Enzo pants and moans as his eyes move from your blushed face to your pretty tits moving in front of him to your cunt taking him so fucking well. You drop your head and soft cries escape you as you struggle to take his full size, feeling him stretch you hard and deep.

As Enzo feels his orgasm approach he curses himself for making a deal with Mattheo. Your walls clench so good around him, he wants you to cum and he wants to cum, but instead he stops your hips from moving. “Get on your knees and let your mouth work.” Enzo clenches his jaw as you look at him with confused and pleading eyes. Was he punishing you for some reason allowing you to feel him inside of you to then take that away from you with any release. “Enzo, please.” You whine cupping his face and doing your best to move on his dick despite Enzo’s strong grip on your hips. “Do as I say sweetheart.” Reluctant you move up, leaving your pussy clenching around nothing as you still so desperately want to cum. With innocent eyes you watch Enzo as you move to sit between Enzo’s legs. His hand makes its way to your hair, caressing your scalp as you open your mouth to taste his cock covered in both your juices. Your legs are pressed tightly closed as you feel your clit throbbing in need of touch, but you ignore your own desire and focus on pushing Enzo’s hard member deep down your throat. Enzo moves your head just a little more, making you gag a little before allowing you to move up and down. You pause a moment to lick and suck his tip before working his dick deep again. When feels himself get close Enzo firmly grips your hair and thrusts upwards into your mouth, fucking your mouth and spilling deep inside of you. Your eyes get watery as you take his load. Surprised by his own harshness he pulls your flustered face towards his. Brushing a tear away with his thumb. “You’re so pretty. So sweet.”

Enzo pulls you close and wraps his arms around you, while kissing you passionately, before pulling away and leaving you alone and naked on your bed. You watch him confused, desperate and vulnerable. With one word from Enzo the key from the door clicks, unlocking it and it only takes a second for the door to open. Flustered and with still teary eyes you watch Mattheo walk in and instantly your lips part as a soft sound leaves your lips. Mattheo feels himself get hard the second he sees your naked body, glinstering cunt and flushed face, exactly how he wanted you. Feeling vulnerable under Mattheo’s piercing gaze you close your legs and look away in shame. Enzo places a soft hand on your thigh, squeezing gently, while his lips move close to your ear. “You said you wished you could have us both.” Your eyes move from Enzo to Mattheo who slowly removes his tie with his eyes still focussed on you. “So I managed to make a little deal with the devil.” Enzo pulls away from you and licks his lips.

“Can I watch?” Lorenzo asks with a playful smile, but Mattheo doesn’t look at him as he steps closer to your naked sheepish figure. “Get lost Berkshire, I’m the boyfriend, you’re the toy.” Your mouth drops as Enzo just grins at you, pulling up his pants and grabbing his shirt, before leaving. With confused eyes you stare at the door through which Enzo just left. You sit still on the bed, unmoved as Mattheo sits down next to you on the bed, watching you carefully while you avoid his gaze, feeling your heart race with anticipation of what is to come. “Don’t be ungrateful.” Mattheo whispers softly, while stroking your cheek. “Open your legs for me.” You part them only slightly as you feel your wetness pool at his words, stimulating your sensitive overstimulated pussy. “Wider, I’m not Enzo, I need to be deeper inside of you.” He immediately inserts two fingers harshly into you. “Berkshire lived up to his word, preparing your cunt for me. It’s soaked.” You whimper as his fingers stretch you and forcefully circle your clit. “I’m still sensitive.” You whimper barely audible, feeling your whole body fill with sensations at your boyfriend’s touch. “You wanted the both of us, love, so now you’ve got to take the both of us, no complaining.” Mattheo whispers harshly with eyes focused on your teary ones as you softly nod.

Mattheo continues to thrust his fingers inside of you, while wrapping an arm around your figure and pulling you against him. He rests his head against yours, allowing himself to take in your warmth and smell. I missed you, princess. You cling to his shirt as his fingers curl inside of you soaking his hand with your arousal. You let your head rest on his shoulder as you whimper at his touch. You missed his touch and warmth so much. “I love you, Mattheo.” You whisper with a shaky voice and watery eyes. “I love you too and I promise I’m here to stay.” He whispers softly before suddenly pulling his fingers away from your needy pussy. “But don’t ever fuck that toy of yours without my permission again or you’ll regret it.” He grabs your chin and forces you to meet his eyes. Your naked figure is shaky as you nod softly, eyes focussed on his dark ones. “How do you want me?” You ask innocently, knowing that pleasing your boyfriend is the only way he will lead you cum tonight.

“Hands and knees.” He states and gets up to undress, while you move to please him. He watches you with longing eyes, while gently stroking your thigh before harshly grabbing the flesh of your asscheeks. “I’ve been hungry for you for a while, so this really isn’t going to be pretty.” Mattheo warns as he grabs his cock and guides it to your entrance to tease you, only brushing his tip through your folds. You spread your legs a little wider and lower your hips in search of more of his touch, while simultaneously grabbing the sheets tightly and arching your back, preparing for Mattheo’s animalistic side. However, he continues to tease you and watch you squirm for a few moments. Angry with himself that he allowed Enzo to have even a glimpse of how good you could be. He needed to fuck you hard and deep and probably more than once to find peace with what you had allowed Enzo to do to you. Without warning Mattheo thrusts into you, immediately earning a cry from you.

Firmly grabbing onto your hips he pounds into you like you’re a doll. You whimper his name as he hits your sensitive spot at a ridiculous pace. In record time your moans go silent as your mouth hangs open, face pressed onto the mattress as your pussy is forced to take Mattheo’s thick cock fast and deep. His eyes carefully watch you and when notices you’re only seconds away from climaxing he reluctantly pulls out, turning you into a sobbing mess and flipping you over onto your back. “Wide.” He demands and you spread your weak legs as wide as you can, ashamed at your own state and your desperation for your boyfriend’s dick you look away as he hungrily watches you while kneading your breasts, thumb moving over your nipple, before slipping his cock back inside your cunt. Mattheo cups your cheek and forces you to meet his eyes as he pushes himself deep inside of you, watching your lips part for silent moan as he stretches your walls. Softly he brushes your cheek with his thumb. “You belong to me, princess.” He growls and you nod with submissive eyes, before snaking your arms around his neck, while he settles in the crook of your neck. He starts rutting into you again, directly hitting the spot you need him to and finally giving you that much needed orgasm that nearly has you pass out. The blissful ecstasy running through your body helps your overstimulated walls take Mattheo a little longer for him to spill his load into you, something that was only reserved for him since he’s your boyfriend.

Your fingers entangle in your favorite curly hair as Mattheo pants against your shoulder, still keeping his dick inside of you for a few more moments. “I’m sorry for what I did with Enzo.” You whisper and Mattheo places a soft sloppy kiss on your cheek. “It’s okay, princess. I was an ass to you, I deserved it and you deserved a little treat.” You rest your cheek against him, but he moves away a little. “But, I meant what I said earlier. Don’t ever let him touch him with my permission. You’re mine.” You nod knowing he was dead serious, but you can’t help but like the idea that there is a possibility of him granting permission. However, at the moment your body was not in need of another round. “How about a warm lavender bath for the princess?” You nod, eager to lay on your boyfriend’s chest as the warm water relaxes your body. After all, it had been quite a long night.

Bonus?

Relaxed and cleaned, you enjoy the intimacy of sitting together surrounded by the water. You feel yourself dozing off as Mattheo runs the washing cloth over your skin softly while you lay on his chest. He kisses your cheek and you hum at his touch, making him chuckle softly. “I’m glad the smell of Enzo is finally gone.” Your eyes flutter open again as the tone of his voice warns you. “Get up. One last fuck. Then you can rest.” Mattheo’s voice is demanding and you get up reaching for a nearby towel. He follows swiftly and lets his eyes wander shamelessly. The plan was to at least get you to the bedroom, but when Mattheo catches you staring at his hardening member through the mirror he smirks, before pulling your body against his. With your back pressed against his chest, his hand snakes between your legs making him groan and you moan. “Be good for me and maybe I’ll let that toy of yours fuck you again someday.”

Word count: 3414

Picture source Mattheo

Picture source Enzo

#slytherin #slytherin boys #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire imagine #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #papercorgiworldwritings

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wosoluver · 5 months

Text

Healers got to date protectors - Headcanons

Misa Rodriguez x Physio!reader

Misa Rodriguez Masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

When the two of you adopted a pet together.

"I can't believe we are doing this." said Misa.

"You said we could do whatever I wanted today..." by now, you knew her well enough, to know that she wasn't big on making friends, and that didn't only apply to humans. "I volunteered here once. You'll love them, I promise."

Deep down, she was always scared to find love in another being. Kinda how it happened to you. Love scared her. It scared her to become vulnerable.

She had been avoiding pets since moving to Madrid. Her parents had even suggested it to her, so she wouldn't feel so alone.

You immediately went to the kittens.

"Oh my god, look at them Misa!"

You sat there for a while, in love with all the cats coming to you for attention.

Without you noticing, Misa had went to walk around. And you went to look for her, coming across the dog area. Stoping to pet a cute Chihuahua, before proceeding to look for your girlfriend.

You found her sitting and playing with a big dog, chewing on a destroyed toy ball.

"Hey..."

"Amor, look at him! He's only a baby!"

"A very big baby. He's adorable." you sat next to them, petting his head. He immediately turned on his back, so you could rub his belly. "He wasn't here the last time I came."

"They said he came from another shelter, they rescued him as a puppy."

By now at least an hour went by. You checked the time on the phone screen.

"Amor, it's almost time for lunch."

"Yeah..."

"What do you want to eat?"

She didn't answer you, so you looked up from your phone. She had a tear on her eyes, threatening to fall down.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want to leave him here." you went soft right away. She was crying. Because of a dog, that she had just met.

"Oh my love" you said wiping her tear away, feeling yourself become emotional.

"Can we keep him? Please?"

"You want to adopt him?"

"I want us to adopt him."

"But we've only been dating for a couple months and we live in separate apartments." usually it was the other way around. You with the emotions and her trying to reason.

"Well, he chose you to be his other mom. Look at him." and you did. And you fell more and more in love with him. He was staring you both with loving eyes, resting his head on her thighs. "And I don't plan on separating from you anytime soon. Do you?"

"No. Not at all. I just didn't know if you wanted everything to go slowly or not."

"The two apartments thing isn't that hard to solve either..."

"Are you asking me to move in with you?"

"Is it too much?"

"It's perfect!" you said giving her a kiss. And to top everything off the dog started to jump on the two of you and lick your cheeks.

"He's ready to come home with us, aren't you baby?" you had never seen a doggy so happy in your life. "What are we naming him?"

"Miles!"

"Is it because he looks like he smiles?"

"No..." you said laughing at your terrible joke.

"But he does look like a Miles, so."

"Yes!" and you proceeded to baby talk to him while Misa signed the papers.

Leaving this morning, she hadn't imagined, coming back with a baby and a roommate.

Arriving home the first thing Miles did was grab a football your girlfriend had laying around the living room. One she liked very much.

"Miles! Your going to destroy it-"

But before she could end the sentence, he'd already bit into it. And you only laughed.

"Seems like he want's to be a footballer like his mom." you said, followed up by Misa's laugh.

"I love you. Both of you."

"Yo más, mi amor."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Any ideas for other headcanons, please send them in! 🩷

#woso x reader #misa rodriguez #misa rodriguez x reader #real madrid femenino #futfem

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atlabeth · 7 months

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she's like the wind

knight!luke masterlist

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

summary: you and luke get a reality check.

a/n: ive been on the hurricane train lately but knight!luke still has me in a chokehold lol so here's a lil blurb for you all! based off of this request; title from the patrick swayze song bc are you kidding me "just a fool to believe i am anything she needs" UGH you're everything she needs it's just that neither of you know it yet

wc: 1.8k

warning(s): angst lol! discussions of arranged marriages, luke is sad, princess is sad and a little mean bc she goes into princess mode, they both place their duty above their feelings </3

okay sooooo

last time we left off you and Luke had a nice lil moonlight dance in your room after you both had to get through a ball

and things have been pretty good since then! nothing is awkward between the two of you (sometimes being oblivious towards the depth of your feelings is a good thing) and you’re back to joking around w each other all the time

but you’re the princess and things can never be easy for you. Your whole day (and not to be dramatic but basically your whole life) is ruined by a private meeting with your parents.

It’s marriage. obviously it’s marriage.

Your kingdom needs allies at a moment like this and marriage is the easiest way to do it so. like. the sooner the better princess!!!

and like you KNEW it was coming. You knew there was really no way to avoid it. that doesn’t mean you naively hoped you could.

But it’s one thing for a prince to court you at a ball for the night and forget him as soon as you get home.

It’s another thing entirely for that prince and his parents to visit your kingdom and stay for a week. which is exactly what’s going to happen.

During that meeting, your parents tell you that the prince of the kingdom that held the last ball (the one that both sets of parents want you to marry, the one that gave you a tour, the one that is the most boring man alive) and his parents will be staying in the castle

And while your parents will be talking with his, trying to secure an alliance for any kind of protection, they’ve encouraged you to spend time with him, make him feel welcome, forge a bond, make him like you.

“Why?” you ask. You know the answer, you know what they’re implying, but you want them to say it out loud. You want them to resign you to this fate themselves.

“Because if all goes well, he will be courting you within the month,” your father says, and yeah, it does make you feel worse now that he’s blatantly said it. you didn’t really know what your plan was there.

“It is the best decision for all of us, darling,” your mother says.

You fight them over it. obviously. but it’s no good, and you leave the room absolutely fuming.

Thankfully, Luke is busy training, because you don’t think that you could explain this to him right now.

But you don’t tell him even when he later accompanies you to the library. Or when he asks you how your day went. Or when he asks in five different ways if you’re okay.

Luke knows something is off almost immediately when he meets up with you again because 1. he knows you. 2. you won’t look him in the eye 3. HE KNOWS YOU BFFR

but he doesn’t push it, and you’re eternally thankful.

Why, you may ask? Because you don’t want to talk to Luke about this kind of thing.

Why, you may ask again? Because you’re in love with him and don’t know it yet.

But because you don’t know it yet, you just feel weird talking about stuff like that with him. Even thinking about it around him. It was bad enough when Luke had to accompany you and the prince around the past week—you can’t imagine Luke being around when you’re trying to charm this guy.

He’s going to find out eventually, namely when said prince arrives in the castle, but you just can not bring yourself to tell him.

Thankfully, you don’t have to! Because he’s one of the kingsguard and one of the first things they do that next morning is discuss security for the incoming royal family. And even though Luke figures it all out pretty quickly, he figures it out even quicker with the immediate gossip through the servants and maids.

And listen.

He knows his place. He knows he’s a knight, he knows he’s your knight, and he knows that his duty is to keep you safe no matter what. He knows just as well as you do that you would be married off eventually, but just like you, he chose to naively ignore that fact for as long as he can.

And it’s not just you that he has a promise to—when he asked your father to let him be your personal guard, he swore himself to your protection and to stay away from you in that regard. Luke lied and said he would never think of it, but he’s had a thing for you since you were kids.

Luke guesses he thought he would get over it as he grew, but he’s only fallen harder for you with the years. He’s got himself stuck between a rock and a hard place and he’s got no one to blame but himself.

But he feels like his teeth are going to crack with how hard he clenches his jaw during the entire meeting. It was difficult enough maintaining his front while the prince showed you around the castle—Luke doesn’t know how he’s going to survive your parents’ most open attempt at arranging marriage thus far.

At least he has a reason to go see you right after. He is your guard, after all.

The bigger problem is the correct timing. Luke can tell that you’re upset the instant he’s in your proximity, and he doesn’t want to upset you further in his quest for answers.

But near the end of the day, when he’s escorted you back to your room after dinner and you’re beginning to take off your jewelry, he finally speaks up.

“Princess,” Luke said, standing in the doorway, “may I have a word?”

Your body tensed and your hands stopped on the clasp of a bracelet. You knew what was coming, but you nodded nonetheless. You didn’t know if you would be able to speak with the dryness of your throat.

You heard the door close behind you, and you busied yourself taking off the rest of your jewelry as Luke began.

“I’ve heard the royal family of Birchmund is visiting,” he said.

You wet your lips and swallowed, trying to alleviate the cotton in your mouth. “You’re correct.”

“And I’ve heard… other things,” he continued. “Of their prince. And you.”

You closed your jewelry box with a bit too much force. “The decision of my parents.”

“I figured.” Luke cleared his throat, and you still couldn’t stand to look at him. “What… what is going to happen?”

“Luke,” you started, “I don’t want to talk about this with you.”

“Please, princess,” he said. “I… merely want to know what to expect. If you are to be accompanying him most of the week, I’ll have to adjust my own schedule.”

You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek, steeling yourself before you finally turned around to face him. “My parents want me to get him on our side, Luke. It will be easier to forge an alliance if we have a good relationship, and it will be easier to—” You paused, closing your eyes for a moment before you finished. “To negotiate a marriage if he already likes me.”

And Luke just stared at you. You didn’t know what he wanted from you, why he wanted to hear you say it. Probably the same reason you wanted to hear your parents say it—to know it was truly real.

“You don’t want this,” Luke said. His voice was quieter, but his posture hadn’t changed. Always a knight.

“What I want doesn’t matter,” you said.

“You’re a person too,” he insisted. “You deserve to go after what you want.”

“I am a princess before I am a person.” You turned back around and started removing your jewelry again—you needed something to focus on. “I want what is necessary for my kingdom.”

“Princess.” Luke sounded a little desperate, now. “This— it’s so formal. This isn’t how we talk to each other. We’re friends above everything.”

Your skin burned where his fingers brushed over your neck, where he held you while you danced. Luke was your closest friend, but— but you couldn’t. You couldn’t have him so close and yearn for so much that you can never have, while the prince you might have to marry stood on your other side.

“Maybe my priorities have been wrong.” You planted your hands on your vanity to prevent them from shaking. “What I want doesn’t matter. If I can prevent a war by offering my hand, it is my duty to do so.”

“We…” you swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head. “We cannot keep doing this. It would be an embarrassment to any prince for his betrothed to be so attached to her knight.”

“We’re friends,” Luke insisted. “We always have been. No prince that desires your hand could understand even the slightest bit of what we’ve been through together.”

“No,” you agreed. “But that means little in the scheme of everything else.”

Luke’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. “This can’t possibly make you happy.”

“What I want doesn’t matter,” you repeated, stronger this time. “This kingdom matters more than— than my childish desires. They depend on us for their protection, and I owe it to each and every one of my people to do all I can to ensure that protection.”

“Princess—” Luke started, because you both knew what you were referring to, but you held up a hand and it stopped him in his tracks.

“You are my knight,” you said. “And I am your princess. Eventually, I will be queen. My parents have told me I need to look to the future, to stop with silly trifles before they become more.”

“It’s more than that,” he said quietly. “You’re my best friend. You’re the reason I’m standing here today.”

“You act as if your duty is to die for me,” you continued. “But your duty is to keep me safe. And this is how I stay safe—by following the word of my parents and securing it myself.”

“So this is your solution,” Luke attempted. “To try and ruin our friendship in the name of a marriage you don’t want.”

“You may retire for the night, Sir Castellan,” you said, and your words rang hollow. “I’d like to be alone.”

He stared at you, dark eyes indecipherable, but he nodded and moved to the door. Before he shut it, his gaze met yours again.

“You may not care about what you want,” Luke said quietly. “But I do. And my loyalty is to you, princess. Not your parents. And certainly no prince.”

Then he bowed, and he closed the door quietly behind him.

but that night, when you settle into your silken sheets and luke takes his place in the barracks, you think of each other as you fall asleep and you dream of each other once you are.

the ties between you are not so easily broken.

#dont worry she'll realize that she's in love with him soon enough #and luke is not going to stop fighting for her no matter what he'll try to tell himself lmao #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan headcanon #luke castellan au #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #knight!luke #sadie writes

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msbigredmachine · 1 year

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Hoochie Daddy (Jey Uso/OC)

How many of these shorts does he have? And how quickly can she take them off him? Jey Uso/OC gym one-shot.

Warnings: SMUT

Word count: 4.7k

A/N: I believe @southerngirl41 is the reason for this title, lol. Let me know what you think!

All Jey gifs by @annoyedkayah2395

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

The gym in the basement of Jey Uso’s house was something straight out of the Creed movies. The floor, walls, and ceilings were solid concrete, the old school decor contrasting with the state of the art equipment within its walls. The speaker system on the far wall blasted the late great DMX as you laid waste to the punching bag in the corner. The straining of your muscles and the aching of your joints felt good. It was helping a lot with clearing your head, given the rather stressful events of the past couple of months.

Though not directly involved yourself, you had experienced the strife within the Bloodline through your boyfriend. From Sami’s betrayal at the Royal Rumble, to Roman’s rage, Jey boycotting the shows for weeks, the uncertainty coming to a head at Wrestlemania with the twins losing the Tag Team titles to Sami and Kevin. Hit hard by the defeat, Jey reacted by keeping his distance from the group once again. He avoided everyone’s phone calls, and you happily played gatekeeper, screening his calls and keeping the doors locked from all intruders. If Jey didn’t want to communicate with anyone, then so be it. You loved his family like they were your own, but his peace of mind always came first. Always.

Which is why you let him sleep in while you came down here to beat the shit out of this damn bag. He’d gone to bed early last night and you wanted sex, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to wake him up and disturb his rest. This morning, you had to physically stop yourself from mounting him and riding him well into the afternoon. He looked so good lying there next to you, butt naked with his new chest tattoo just begging for your oral attention. That man made you horny at a moment's notice and it would have been infuriating if you weren’t already completely in love with the way he made you feel.

So, you decided an early morning exercise would help you out with your frustrations. You learned that working out brought you to a state of erotic readiness. There was a power and excitement about exerting your entire body that amplified your arousal. It also helped that you were dating a man that shared your philosophy. Exercise energized you and Jey. The changes you’d experienced sexually in the past year were testament to this. As a couple you had transitioned from traditional sex to something so much more erotic and spiritual. Your relationship thrived as a result, and for the first time in years, you were happy.

"You’re stronger. But you gon’ hurt yourself if you don't relax your shoulders," a familiar gruff voice warned from the doorway of the gym.

You turned towards your boyfriend, locking eyes with him from across the room. You nodded at his barely clothed frame. “And you’re gonna have a yeast infection if you keep wearin’ them tight ass hoochie daddy shorts,” you shot back.

He burst into a chuckle as he glanced down at his yellow shorts, smiling that breathtaking smile of his. “You got jokes, huh?” he said, pushing off the door frame. As he approached you, his dark eyes raked over the light sprinkling of freckles over your beautiful face. He knew how many there were and could locate each one with his eyes closed. Your frizzy jet black hairstyle and crafted eyebrows made your eyes pop. And though they were hidden, he couldn’t help but drool over the outline of your nipple piercings through your thin, long sleeved Nike crop top.

You picked up your bottle of water. “How long have you been standing there watching me like a creep?”

“Long enough. You know I can watch you all day, baby. You sexy as hell,” he winked, giving you a sweet kiss before swatting your backside. "How long you been in here?”

"About an hour. Did some cardio first. I was horny and you were asleep.”

“Sorry ‘bout that, babe. I’ll make it up to you later.”

“I wanna fuck you now,” you pouted like a child, “Do you know how much willpower it took to not jump your bones this morning?”

“I do. And I applaud your restraint. Usually, you can’t resist me,” he bragged.

“So damn arrogant.”

“Luh you too, boo,” he chuckled. Adjusting the Snapback around his head, he moved to the free weight area of the room. You noticed him fiddling with his phone, and rolled your eyes when he placed it in a strategic vantage point. Another IG story in the works; another day of women coming online to comment and thirst over his beautiful body. Just great.

You stared as he pulled himself over the high bar and back down in flawless repetitions. The transformation of his body over the last year was goals, and you were inspired. However, with said transformation came the sudden need to wear only the teeniest tightest outfits to the gym, and now he had these little shorts in every color imaginable; pink, green, yellow, black, literally the Power Ranger collection of bikini shorts, with the hem just a few inches below his backside and showing off the extensive leg tattoos and the fullness of the groin that belonged to you. The material bunched up in that area as he slowly lowered himself back to the ground. Sweat glistened on his body, coursing down his defined contours, and you felt an animalistic urge to go right up to him and lick off every drop...

“Like what you see, baby?” His deep voice interrupted your dirty thoughts. Forcing your gaze back up, you saw his smirk, expressing his amusement at the heat in your eyes.

“You know I do. I’ve lost all my concentration thanks to them little ass shorts.”

“Concentrate on something else, then,” he insisted, empowered by how flustered he made you.

“I can’t. That ass is calling my name,” you whined, “You got your Daddy’s booty, I’ve told you this before.”

Jey groaned audibly. “Girl, leave my Daddy outta this!”

The side of your lips quirked, showing off the tiny dimple in your cheek that drove Jey crazy. “But it’s true. Jimmy got Kish’s face, you got his ass.”

The former tag champ burst out laughing. His girl was as crazy as she was beautiful. “You are unbelievable.”

“I know, Daddy.”

Not Daddy. Damn. His gaze followed your ample backside as you walked away, and involuntarily, his tongue darted out over his lips. Forcing himself to refocus, he settled down on the weight bench and picked up the weights he set out to train with.

The two of you worked out in comfortable silence, shooting furtive glances when the other wasn't looking. As he laid back on the bench, you ogled his dick print, his grunts of exertion causing you to bite your lip and squeeze your thighs together where you stood. Noting his attention was solely on the dumbbells, you sensed the opportunity passing you by.

Fuck it.

“Your video still on?” you asked, going over to him.

“No, why?”

You gave no answer, but proceeded to flop down directly onto his groin, smirking at his startled grunt. You could feel his eyes burning holes into the back of your head but you didn't care. Making yourself comfortable on his lap, you started slowly, grinding your ass on his cock, feeling him harden almost instantly through the thin barrier of your clothing.

“What are you doing?” Jey demanded, scrambling to sit upright. You looked over your shoulder at him with a devilish grin, noticing the struggle in his eyes.

“I told you…I want some dick...I want what’s mine,” you let him know, opening your legs a little wider to grind on him. With a steady roll of your hips, you moaned and whimpered at the feeling of the wetness pooling in your loins. You let his groans wash over you as you rocked you back and forth on him, bumping your ass against his abs repeatedly.

“Fuck, baby,” he hissed.

“Yeah, Daddy, you like that?" you taunted him, looking back at him as you rode him reverse cowgirl. "Come out here looking like that and expect me not to jump you, huh?"

Jey did not know where to put his hands. You had him all discombobulated from your little ambush. He settled for the curls of your hair, tugging your head to the side to allow his lips and tongue attack your sweaty neck. This motivated you to arch your back and roll your ass more harshly, his hand in your hair making you look back at it. You knew how good you were making him feel as he shifted multiple times to make your ass stroke his dick through his shorts. His hungry eyes watched you dry hump the shit out of him, his eyebrows pinched together in total arousal.

“Aww fuck, keep goin’,” he moaned, grabbing your gyrating backside, purposely flexing his thigh muscles to give you more friction. His husky praise encouraged you to pick up the pace. Your hips rolled diligently, your hands braced on his knees for leverage, thoroughly enjoying the sounds tumbling from his mouth. It was sweaty, it was hot, and from the way your pussy rippled, it was about to get even hotter.

Then, from out of nowhere, you stopped and stood up.

“And that’s my workout done for the day,” you announced, stepping away from him.

Jey could not keep his jaw from dropping in shock. “The fuck? Babe!” he exclaimed with wide eyes.

You casually adjusted your clothes and ignored the prominent tent in his shorts. “Yep. Pelvic thrusts. Great for mobility,” you explained, fighting the urge to laugh. He looked so frustrated, it was hilarious.

The Samoan squared his shoulders and glared at you. “Damn dick tease. I’ma get you for that, ya hear me?” he threatened.

“I hope so.” For a long moment, you regarded him, talking to him without saying a word. You were checking on him, hoping he was okay. Jey’s expression softened in understanding, and he grabbed your hand and pressed his lips to your inner wrist. The feeling of his mouth gently pressed to your skin made your stomach clench with a sweet mix of affection and need.

“See you upstairs, baby. I’ll be right up, a’ight?” he prodded gently, his eyes shining with gratitude.

You nodded. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go, before I bend your fine ass over my lap.” He burst out laughing as your eyes lit up at the prospect. “Go!”

“Fine.” Blowing him a kiss, you left the room before he could change his mind and carry out his dastardly threat. Like he did a couple of weeks ago, when he locked you inside the laundry room and proceeded to fuck you for an hour. In eight different positions. All while getting the laundry done. Good Lord. Could you do that again, actually?

Buying a jetted jacuzzi tub big enough for two, was one of the best decisions you and Jey had ever made, expense be damned. It was one of your favorite things about the whole house, your place of Zen and tranquility after a long day. You ensured the water was adequately seasoned with Epsom salts and eucalyptus mints among others. Turning off the hot water, you stripped off, tucked your hair into a shower cap, and lowered yourself carefully into the tub. You leaned back and closed your eyes with a deep sigh, allowing the quiet to take over the ambience. You could feel your pores opening instantly, absorbing the mint and the steam, making you feel much more relaxed.

The sound of shoes being noisily kicked off forced your eyes open, landing on the handsome Samoan culprit grinning cheekily at you.

“That looks nice,” he commented.

“It feels amazing,” you concurred, crooking your finger at him. "C'mere, Daddy. Come join me."

Like he would ever turn down such an offer. He peeled off the t-shirt that stuck to his sweaty skin, followed by his so-called hoochie daddy shorts. He blushed at the way your eyes glossed over with desire as they raked over his body. He would never stop enjoying the way you looked at him. He descended into the tub on the opposite side, allowing his legs to entwine with yours underneath the water. Once he was seated, he exhaled loudly, leaning back and closing his eyes like you did.

“Your mind’s a mile away from here,” you spoke up after a few minutes of observing him in silence. “Come back to me, baby. Talk to me.”

Jey turned his head toward the window, staring dully at the bright sky outside. When he spoke, the pain in his voice hurt your soul.

“Tell me how I let all of this shit happen,” he whispered. “I thought I was doing the right thing, man. Staying in the Bloodline to protect Jimmy. I thought I had everything under control. Until I got in that ring on Saturday night. It shoulda been just another match for me. But one look at Sami and all I saw was red. I let my emotions get the best of me. Now we’ve lost the fucking titles.” He paused, dragging a hand down his face. “The crazy part is, I believe Sami. I know he’s right about everything. Everything he warned me about is happenin’ now. Baby I just don’t know what to do.”

He looked over at you, and your heartstrings tugged at the helplessness you saw in his eyes, something you realized you’d been seeing too often lately. It was taking a toll on the usually confident, self-assured man you knew and loved. It was no secret that your boyfriend was under the Tribal Chief’s thumb, with no true will of his own. You had your own opinions on everything that was happening and you had told Jey that much, but it was ultimately up to him to do what he needed to do.

Pushing away from your end of the tub, you waded in between his spread legs, resting your back against his chest. You always seemed to fit so perfectly against him. His arms instantly came around you, feeding off your warmth, your aura, your quiet strength that he so desperately needed.

“You’re not happy, Jey,” you assessed. “I wish you didn’t second-guess yourself so much, because your instincts are almost always right. You need to act on them again. I want you to do what’s best for you. Nobody else. Not Sami, not your brothers, not your cousin…not even me. Look out for Jey Uso this time. Just this once. And as always, whatever you decide, I got your back one hundred percent.”

Although you couldn’t see him, you could feel him absorbing your advice, letting your words swirl around in his head. You only hoped this meant that his misery would come to an end sooner rather than later. Exhaling heavily, he reclined again, stretching one arm across the top of the tub’s ceramic surface and holding onto you with the other.

“After this shit is over, I owe you a vacation,” he spoke. “Just you and me, far away from here.”

“Ooh, yes I’m down for that,” you nodded eagerly.

“Yeah. I definitely owe you a ring, too.”

“A ring?” Your brows furrowed in confusion at first, and then it hit you. Your head angled up to meet his eyes. “Mr. Ucey Jucey, are you proposing to me?”

Jey shrugged. “I told you I’ma marry you one day, lil’ mama. I ain’t changed my mind,” he said.

“You sure you’re ready for my craziness on a full-time basis?”

“That’s what I love about you the most, baby. I ain’t letting nobody else have you, that’s for damn sure.”

“Hmm. So you’re possessive,” you interrogated.

“I just know a good thing when I see it,” he stated, gazing deep into your eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I ain’t letting it go, not even with my last breath.”

“And I’m not letting you go either,” you smiled, leaning into him, “You’re all mine, my big bad hoochie daddy.”

“Stop,” he warned, licking his lips.

“Stop what?”

“Calling me that.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Make me.”

Jey's amused expression instantly became serious, and he swallowed hard as his eyes dilated. It was always a thrill for you, challenging his control, anticipating what he would do to you afterwards. Just as that thought crossed your mind, you felt his right hand glide slowly down your body.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your words dissolving into a gasp when he squeezed your right breast.

“Finishing what you started.”

Your breath hitched when his hand continued its journey down south and slipped between your thighs. Instinctively you opened them, letting him play with your pussy using the tips of his long fingers. "Oh fuck," you gasped, your head tilting back when they breached your folds, going in deep. Licking your lips, you moaned and then grunted as he scissored his fingers back and forth inside you. “Oh god, Jey, yes…”

His lips swept the length of your neck, your little moans music to his ears. "You like that, mama? Like my fingers deep in you?"

You tried to respond, but the words evaporated as he dug deeper into your pussy. You spread your legs wider in the water, letting him work you at the pace he wanted. His mouth suckled your throat, and a blissful sigh sang from inside your heaving chest, your body awash with heat as his fingers probed you.

“Daddy…”

“Yeah, say my name, baby.”

It was as though he’d cast a spell on you, the urgency with which you needed him inside you, on you, all over you. Holding the back of your head steady with his other hand, he leaned down and covered your lips with his. Your fingers raked through the wetness of his mullet fade, moving your lips greedily against his as he sped up the movements of his fingers.

“Mmm, these lips were made for kissing me,” he murmured dreamily, and his soft words turned you to mush. Your mouth remained on his even as you rotated your body, unwilling to release him for even the few seconds it took to turn around. You climbed onto his lap and sat on him. His hands immediately sought the curve of your ass, squeezing in large handfuls. Your pierced, erect nipples pressed against his chest, delightfully rising and sinking like two round buoys in the sea. His groin felt hot against yours, just like it did in the gym. As he guided you down his length, you quickly grabbed the edge of the tub to keep from slipping. You both gasped from the familiar joy of your bodies joining, with every inch of Jey’s thick length sliding all the way inside you.

Jey didn't think he had ever felt you so tight, yet so slick and easy to penetrate. He watched you closely as you rocked your hips slowly, carefully, making sure you had all of him. You lifted your knees and wrapped your legs around his hips, your heels pressing against his lower back and prompting Jey to sit up and hug you tight. The tilt of his cock as you rolled your hips forward brought out another groan from you both. You rode him at a variety of paces, watching the pleasure wash over his face with each change. He lifted one hand to toy with your nipple, his palm squeezing your breast as you moaned in response. You paused for a second to adjust yourself on top of him, then switched up your movements, rising and falling, your pussy gripping his length tightly with every drop and dragging a hiss from his lips. You rode him good, rode him hard, your wanton gasps of pleasure echoing around the bathroom. Jey’s bottom lip disappeared between his teeth as he kneaded and massaged your ass, then gripping hard as he took control, working you on his dick.

“Fuck, yes, yes!” you groaned into his neck as he steered you on his pole, his fingers digging into your hip bones as he grinded you onto him, increasing the stimulation on your clit. Then, he was lifting you up and down, bouncing you with a desperation that turned you on even more. Words failed you at this point, reduced to a panting, moaning mess. You were dizzy from pleasure, almost at the edge of release. The water splashing around you went ignored in the throes of passion, with him growling against your throat as you whimpered in his arms.

Jey’s grip on your waist was vice-like as he bounced you harder, chasing his own release. It felt like you were cracking in two from the scorching heat you and Jey had created. You didn’t try to tamp down your moans as you came. It was sweet and ferocious and ravaging all at once, ushering Jey himself past the point of control as he spurted generously inside you. His deep, raspy groan broke you all over again, and you let the ripples plunge you into another incredible orgasm, brought on by the sheer force of his. When it was over, you were both spent and trembling in the water, breathing raggedly, clinging to each other for dear life. Jey dropped a kiss to your forehead and then your nose, the gesture warm and tender.

“Damn, Daddy,” you moaned, earning a proud grin from him.

"Ay, you wanted dick, you got it. You're welcome," he said matter-of-factly, carefully lifting you off his cock and helping you out of the water.

“So arrogant.”

“Luh you too, boo.”

After draining the tub, the two of you made your way into the shower for a proper cleansing. You ended up in there for much longer than usual thanks to your make-out session beneath the cascading water while soaping each other up. There was something so sexy about him pinning you to the wall as you kissed, your wet bodies pressed together, the little sensual noises of pleasure you both made while he gripped and massaged your ass cheeks. As you left the shower, he maneuvered you towards the sink, facing the mirror. You hissed softly as the cold surface contrasted erotically with the heat of your man's body on your back, and you braced your hands on the bathroom countertop. He started kissing your neck, his hand shifting upwards so he could caress your breasts. You watched him in the mirror, your pussy moistening further at the sexy sight.

As he continued to nuzzle your throat, you flexed your spine, pressing your ass into his groin, and was rewarded by the sharp breath he sucked in. Relieving you of your shower cap, he swept your curly hair into his fist and pressed another kiss to your throat, meeting your eyes through the mirror.

“I love the way you look at me, like you want me,” he whispered.

“I do want you. I want you every day of my life. I’ll always want you, Jey,” you vowed. The look he gave you in response was so purely masculine, so primal, visibly turned on by your declaration.

"That’s my girl. Keep your eyes on me, baby,” he instructed, kissing your cheek, “Let me show you what I see every time we fuck."

Swallowing hard, you watched his head drop, and gasped as his fingers slipped unexpectedly between your legs, gathering your juices. You could hear the wet sound of his hand stroking his dick, and you longed to turn around and look, to watch him spread your essence all over himself. His husky groan as he lined his dick up with your entrance made your pussy flutter. Catching your eye in the mirror, he smirked at your impatient expression and smacked your backside for your troubles.

"Don’t worry, you gon’ get every inch, baby, all of it, it’s yours," he promised. With no further preamble, he bent you over, used your hips to pull you up onto your tiptoes, and entered you from behind. Your sharp gasp filled the bathroom as your walls stretched to accommodate his length and girth, your body almost doubling over in the process. His eyes remained on yours through the mirror as he slowly started to thrust in and out of you, reveling in the pleasure washing over your features.

A string of moans left your lips as his cock speared you over and over, his tattooed arm around your waist to hold you steady. Your breasts jutted forward as your spine arched back, both of you transfixed by the reflection in the mirror, both of you extremely turned on, panting with the sheer eroticism of watching yourselves have sex.

"Baby, you feel so good," you groaned, bending over slightly as he thrust deeper into you. His long fingers threaded through your hair, and he used it to roughly pull you back up, almost to a standing position. Both of you were panting, moaning, the scent of sex heavy in the air, the sounds of your flesh pounding together ringing in your ears.

Dropping a wet kiss to your neck, he growled in your ear as he stared you down through the mirror. "Look at us, baby. Look how fucking good we look together."

You did look good, especially with him inside you. Together, your joined reflection looked good. You were an amazing pair, you and the man of your wildest dreams. You spread your legs further and rocked onto the balls of your feet, bringing him deeper into you, your breasts bouncing in time to his fierce thrusts, his hand still in your hair to hold you in place. He was insatiable for you, and you for him.

"Shit, baby, your pussy is so good. You’re takin’ Daddy’s dick so well," he rasped.

His glassy eyes and barely contained groans told you he was close to coming. A naughty idea came to your mind, and you brought your hand down to touch yourself, moaning when your fingers slipped easily over the slick wetness you found there. Jey's eyes darkened in the mirror as he watched you, his hand in your hair tightening reflexively as you started stroking rapidly, right over where his dick made that sweet connection with your pussy.

Being the showman that he was, Jey loved himself a good show. And you found that you quite liked putting on a show for your man.

You could feel your body start to heat up, your swollen clit protruding against your fingers at the same time he deep-stroked your wetness. As you watched him in the mirror, you could see and feel the tension building inside him, matching yours, your naked bodies starting to tremble from the climbing pleasure.

“Daddy, I’m gonna come,” you whined. Those four words seemed to set him off. His movements became wilder, rougher, mounting to a rising crescendo. He had you literally on the tips of your toes, at the very edge of euphoria, finally falling over when his teeth sank into your shoulder.

“Jey!”

You exploded. Releasing one more time all over his dick. Jey was right behind you, pumping hard inside you once, twice, and groaning into your shoulder as he came. His body shuddered against yours, your orgasms seemingly pulsing through both of you together. Gripping your hips tight, he moaned again, rolling his pelvis against your thick, juicy backside to drain every drop of his cum into your warm, intoxicating pussy. You purred softly with satisfaction and rested your head on his shoulder, letting him envelop you in those strong arms of his as your bodies calmed down.

Jey slowly pulled out of you, his eyes flickering to your stance; naked, bent over with your legs splayed, with his seed trickling down your inner thighs. So fucking hot. He turned you back to him, a small smile on his face when you tiptoed up to kiss his lips and play with his hair.

“So…what else are we doin’ today?” he asked you.

“We might need another shower,” you giggled, rubbing his back, “Also, I want you to make me breakfast wearing one of them tiny shorts,” you added. “You’re gonna wear them all day and nothing else.”

“That what you want, baby?”

“Yeah, and for me and my eyes only. No videos,” you quickly added the caveat.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he quipped, laughing when you smacked his arm.

“I said what I said. I think your beloved IG fangirls have seen enough for today,” you pouted.

He chuckled at your little riot act and pecked your pouty lips. “Fine. Anything for you, pretty girl.”

“Thanks, Hoochie Daddy. Love you.”

Jey could only sigh and shake his head with a big smile. He wouldn’t have your cheeky self any other way. “Love you, too, lil’ mama.”

THE END.

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

I’m on a roll with Jey rn. But I’ll 100% go back to my Tribal Chief soon. This one didn’t have too much drama, but I hope you liked it, still.

Please leave comments. I love comments!

Banner made by me. Credit to owners of the pics and gifs.

#jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso smut #roman reigns #the usos #the usos fanfic #jey uso imagines #jey uso x reader #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x black oc #wwe smut #wwe #the bloodline

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feyhunter78 · 2 months

Note

I’m actually DYING for part 14 of the Dreadful Need of the Devotee, like my pain is clinical and your writing is the only thing that will cure me 🙏

No rush of course, I’m just in love with this story!! (But please, I need it badly)

I got you babe!!!! Enjoy <3

Chapter Fourteen - Ser Arthur Dayne has returned to court. Ch 15

Jon sits in Tyrion’s solar, the small table that sits between you all laden down with breakfast foods and teas. He is seated across from Tyrion, while you are seated next to Jon across from Ser Arthur, your soon-to-be good-father.

Introductions had gone well, you complimented his father, he complimented you, your betrothal was announced, and Jon had to keep himself from kissing you. The joy that radiated from you was so intense, he could not help but smile like a lovesick fool. But now, now the doubts begin to creep in.

If he had been told at the age of two and ten, he would be sitting with his soon-to-be wife a Lannister, the Imp Lannister and Ser Arthur Dayne the Sword of the Morning who was also his true father, Jon would not have believed whoever spoke such things to him. Truly he would have thought them playing a cruel joke, but now he sat in that very position wondering if it would all be revealed a horrid prank. A test to see how much the bastard boy could be convinced to believe.

You place your hand atop Jon’s where it rests on his knee, your brows furrowing in concern, and he waves you off, focusing on the meal set in front of him. You and him often broke fast together, and it was not too uncommon for your father to join the both of you, but this time it was different.

“Lady y/n, your father tells me you are a talented seamstress.” His father says, cutting into his sausage, his eyes, those dark purple eyes, so like Jon’s in the right light, observe you with an oddly formal air.

“I am, in fact the tunic Jon is wearing this morn is one I made myself.” You say, gracing Jon with a smile so bright it rivals the sun, and he turns further towards you following it as crops do, ever reaching, ever seeking your warmth and light.

His father hums in acknowledgement, examining every stitch of his tunic. “It is well-made; and the embroidery is quite detailed. It is not what one would think a sworn sword would be given by his charge.”

“He is my champion, seen as an extension of myself, I would never leave my chambers in rags, or dull, dreary clothing, so why should my sworn sword?” You say, taking a sip of your tea, sizing the man up.

“An interesting perspective.” His father comments, his eyes flickering to Jon.

“I suppose so.” You respond, dabbing your mouth with your cloth napkin.

“She is also a wonderful dancer.” Jon adds, unsure of his place in the conversation. He has never before been privy to these situations, and it is both exhilarating and terrifying.

“I am only wonderful because I have such an excellent partner that allows me to keep my skills sharp.” You smile prettily at him, and he watches the mask slip into place, you are attempting to charm the father by charming the son.

“They are a most excellent pairing, even Robert before he oh so tragically passed said they would make a good couple.” Tyrion says, spreading strawberry jam onto a thick slice of bread.

If I were not a bastard. He said we would be a good match if I was not a bastard. Jon thought bitterly.

“It pains me to know my son had love within his grasp for so long and could not claim it, I would soon see that rectified.” His father says, pulling a folded letter from his pocket. “I have kept this for you, it is a signed statement from the septon that presided over your mother, and I’s wedding. It was quick, not the lavish affair I would have wished to give her, but it was true in the eyes of The Seven.”

Jon feels you lean into him, reading the letter along with him.

“I fear it will not be enough. Aunt Cersei tore up Uncle Robert’s will, what if someone does the same to this?” You ask.

“Your Uncle Robert was dead he could not defend his will, but Ser Arthur is here, in the flesh.” Tyrion says.

Jon folds the letter and returns it to his father. “When would this take place? I would like to inform my siblings; they should not hear it from strangers or gossip.”

“They know, Lord Stark told them and Lady Stark once I had confirmed Ser Arthur was alive and wished to see you.” Tyrion assures him.

Jon pokes at his eggs, the yolk running, yellow-orange liquid tainting the white outer edges. He is glad the truth is known, but will this change how they see him? Will little Arya no longer trust him, will she keep him at a distance as Sansa had now that he is revealed as an impostor, a stranger? And Robb, his brother, will he still call him by that name, will he still hold the same love for him? At least Lady Catelyn will no longer have reason to hate him, he is not proof of her husband’s indiscretions, but his love for his sister.

“Where does Jon fall in the line of succession for Starfell?” Y/N directs the question towards his father, bringing him out of his gloom-stricken thoughts. “I know Lord Edric Dayne is your eldest brother’s son, but he is still a child close to Arya’s age, and your sister does not yet have children, does this not make him third after you?”

His father smirks and leans forward, placing his elbows on the table. “Do you wish him to be second?”

You mimic his posture, voice deadly calm, face unreadable. “I do not condone the murder of children, even if it would catapult Jon to heir of Starfell. I was merely asking a question.”

His father laughs, the sound warm, boisterous, filling the room as he leans back in his chair. “Your father has taught you well, lioness. But yes, Jon is third, if Edric, Seven forbid, were to die then I would take the seat, and Jon would follow after me.”

“We need not worry about that though, he will be by my side at Casterly Rock, is that not right, Father?” You hold your position, eyes still on Jon’s father.

“I have not yet heard word back on our family’s succession, your grandsire still holds out hope that Jaime will leave the Kingsguard and return home.” Tyrion drawls, before taking a sip of his tea.

“But he will not, and even if he did, would it not be shameful?” You venture, stirring your own tea with the tiny spoon provided.

“We shall see what options lay before him when our new king takes the throne, he could take Jaime’s head.” Tyrion says, his eyes on his bread, he has still not taken a bite, Jon feels confident that Tyrion will not be eating this morn.

“I am sure Robb will be merciful to Uncle Jaime, perhaps he could send him to the Wall? As loathe I am to think of him being sent far away, I imagine his skills would be of good use there?” You turn to Jon for confirmation.

Jon’s stomach churns, he wishes to tell you the truth, that it matters not what Robb thinks. “Yes, they are always in need of skilled and hearty men.”

“Oh, and then we could visit him, could we not?” Again, your question is directed at him, and he fights back the bile rising in his throat. He did not like this new weight, this new secret he must keep from you.

“The Wall is a long journey, even from Winterfell.”

“No journey is too long when it comes to family.” You say, dismissing his spoken worries with a smile and a wave of your hand.

“Little lion, perhaps we save our travel plans for after the new king arrives?” Tyrion suggests, seeming unfazed by the half-truths that roll off his tongue.

“Of course, Father.” You say, giving him a smile and tucking back into your breakfast.

Jon cannot eat, he can barely swallow. He wants to tell you the truth, wants to throw you over his shoulder and run, run all the way to Winterfell and hide you there until all this chaos has subsided.

“I think a wedding in Dorne is completely out of the question Ser Arthur, do you really believe people would attend a Lannister wedding that is not held at Casterly Rock or the Red Keep?” Tyrion says, pulling him back into the conversation that had proceeded without him.

“But it is not a Lannister wedding, it is a Dayne wedding.” His father smiles, sending Jon a wink.

“My daughter is a Lannister, in the eyes of Westeros it is a Lannister wedding, and truly it must be held at Casterly Rock, gods know the Red Keep has seen enough weddings.”

“House Martell will not attend if it is at Casterly Rock, which means Myrcella will not attend.” His father reminds Tyrion.

“Father could it not be held somewhere more neutral? I so want Myrcella to be able to attend.” You ask, looking at him pleadingly.

“I am sure once the new king comes into power, the Martells will not hold the same anger towards our family as they once did.” Tyrion reassures you, reaching across the small circular table to pat your hand.

Yes, because all who they hold anger towards will be dead. Jon thinks solemnly, guilt eating him alive.

“I will trust you then.” You say, before turning to Jon’s father. “Ser Arthur, are there any marital traditions that you would like us to observed for the wedding?”

He thinks for a moment, resting his hand on his chin, the dark stubble so like Jon’s but flecked with gray. “There are none that come to my mind at the moment, but I will think on it and if any return to me, I will inform you.”

“No bedding ceremony.” Jon says, he will fight for this, not only to spare you the brutality, but as an apology for the secrets he must keep.

“I will not argue with that.” You laugh, picking up two strawberries and handing one to him as you bite into the other one.

Jon takes it from you, his teeth breaking the delicate flesh, the sweet juice tasting like ash on his tongue.

The look upon Cersei Lannister’s face when his father steps into Highgarden’s Great Hall, is enough to make Jon forget why he is even standing before the royal family. His father wears a cloak of lilac, the white sword and falling star crossed in the center proudly displayed, Dawn strapped to his side. His curls are cleaned and styled, his beard trimmed, his armor and boots shining. When he takes a knee bowing his head to Tommen, Jon does the same, feeling a flicker of excitement when their knees hit the floor at the same time. Perfect synchronicity.

“Ser Arthur?” The startled exhale of his father’s name escapes Ser Jamie’s lips before he can stop it, his conflicted expression betraying far more than simply shock. There is grief, rage, longing, and confusion all whirling within Ser Jamie’s widened emerald eyes.

“My King, I have come to ask that you legitimize my son. I have brought the parchment signed by the septon that married myself and Lady Lyanna Stark. Jon is not a snow, he is a Dayne, my trueborn and only child.”

Tommen does not move, does not speak, he looks at Margaery who has her hand in her grandmother’s.

“Let us see this parchment.” Lady Tyrell says, holding a wizened hand out.

His father rises, and Jon does as well, watching as he delivers the paper to Lady Tyrell, who shares it with Margaery.

“You were thought dead Ser Dayne, why did you not return to King's Landing to take up in the service of your new king when my husband ascended to the throne?” Cersei asks, her jade eyes alight with rage, sparking like wildfire.

“I was badly injured at the Tower of Joy and was unable to make the journey for many years.”

“Unable to make the journey and to retrieve your son, it seems.” Cersei drawls, skimming the parchment, then handing it to Ser Jaime.

Jon can see how his hands shake, the color draining from his face.

“I was told Lord Stark treated him kindly, as if he were his own son, it was better for him to remain there than at the bedside of a nearly crippled man.” The shame that colors his tone clearly tugs on Tommen’s heartstrings.

He has not dared to think what his life would have been like if he had lived with his father. All he knows is he would not have met you, and he does not consider that much a life at all.

Tommen clears his throat, looking at Margaery once more, she nods.

“Ser Dayne, you swore an oath, Kingsguard cannot marry or have children.” Cersei cuts in, stepping forward, her head held high.

Jon bites his tongue hard. The irony in her statement…

His father fares better, nodding his head towards her, his tone steady. “I am no longer a whitecloak, I lost the right to that title when I aided Prince Rhaegar in stealing away my dear Lyanna. I am only a knight of the realm now, Queen Mother.”

Tommen goes to speak, surely in agreement with his mother, but Margaery puts her hand on his arm and leans down to whisper in his ear.

Jon tries not to fidget, tries not to look at you, you who sits beside your father, dressed in a well-tailored gown the shade of pomegranates, your hair swept away from your face, a golden pendant around your neck. He will ruin it all if he looks at you.

His father puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly.

“In honor of my queen’s nameday I will grant her request. Ser Jon Snow, you shall no longer be a Snow, but a Dayne, Lord or Ser Jon, whichever you would like, of House Dayne, son of Ser Arthur Dayne the Sword of the Morning.” Tommen says, smiling brightly when Margaery plants a chaste kiss of thanks to his cheek.

His father gives his thanks, bowing low. Jon follows his example, keeping his expression grateful but neutral as they return to the sidelines, ducking behind the crowds of nobles as Tommen and Margaery begin to leave the hall. It is only when they have disappeared from view that his father embraces him, crushing him to his chest.

Jon returns the embrace, joy running wild through him.

His father pulls back, a wide smile on his tanned face. “My son, oh, it is good to say that aloud, to say it where anyone can hear. We must celebrate, do you have a preference for wine? ”

“No, Father.” Jon tests the word out, rolling it on his tongue, it feels strange but pleasant. “I do not.”

His father smiles. “We shall soon fix that, but first, you must return to your duties, no?” He jerks his head towards you.

Jon nods. “I must.”

TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz, @idohknow, @bdudette, @pluraldoggo, @legolastheleafyelf, @faerie-film, @wifiatthetrainstation, @duskypinki, @tartine-de-pain

#meg's writing #jon snow x reader #jon snow x y/n #jon snow x you #lannister!reader #jon snow imagine #got fanfiction #jon snow #Jon Dayne

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24hlevi · 1 year

Text

— fever

jigokuraku characters (chobe, toma, sagiri, yuzuriha, & shion) x gn!reader

summary: how the jgkrk characters would react to sharing a bed with you

warnings: language, a lil suggestive

Aza Chobe

— does not give a single fuck, he probably did it on purpose even, as an excuse

— he'll be super cocky about it at first, making suggestive jokes about what could happen during the cold hours of the night even if it's summer

— if you want to find another sleeping space of sorts he'll try and convince you that one bed is better than two, saying how he'll keep you warm

— hate to say it but he would definitely try to hit, it's the perfect opportunity for him to try and he would definitely do his best to hook up with you

— by the time its time to sleep it's probably past midnight for sure, and he doesn't sleep well so he will probably be asleep for a few hours then wake up and stay awake

— will not cuddle with you whatsoever, but he sleeps on his back with his arms supporting his head so if you wanna try go ahead, he might smack you though

— chobe moves around a lot in his sleep whether it's rolling over repeatedly, spreading his legs apart so you have little to no room at all, or just simply ending up on the floor when he wakes up

— when the two of you awake the next morning, he's likely already awake ready to get the day started, ignoring however you feel about the situation and whatever happened during the night

Aza Toma

— feigns being confused over the situation at first as if he didn't deliberately ask for a room with only one bed

— then would pretend that getting a new room would be too much of a hassle, even going as far as offering to sleep on the floor until you agree

— but toma is genuine in making sure you're comfortable with it and he truly doesn't want you to feel weirded out by the matter

— when you do say it's fine he is ecstatic about it, grinning widely as he hugs you tightly saying how he'll keep you safe despite knowing nothing would happen

— toma is a big cuddler unlike his brother, he is always holding onto you and will wrap around you like a koala when sleeping because he loves you so much

— he sleeps super deeply like you could shake him and he wouldn't wake up, he also has an iron tight grip on you when sleeping, so you'll unfortunately have to pry him off you if you need to use the restroom or anything at all

— he mumbles a little bit when he's super deep in sleep, it's rarely full sentences but it is freaky at times with what he says

— you'll likely wake up before him because he constantly sleeps, and will have to forcibly shove him off of you for him to wake up, but he smiles at you as soon as he sees you're still there with him

Yamada Asaemon Sagiri

— literally the only one genuinely confused on how it happened

— will immediately offer to ask for another room if you are uncomfortable with it but won't if you say it's fine then she's fine with it

— ngl it's probably super awkward between you two for some reason, she's busy overthinking everything and you're just trying to make sure she's genuinely okay and not just lying to make you feel better

— she'll likely try to make up an excuse for you to sleep on the bed and her on the floor or somewhere else, but if you tell her it's fine enough times she'll eventually believe you

— sagiri isn't much of a cuddler but she will at least have an arm secured around you lightly, laying on her side with you in front of her so she can know you're there still

— she sleeps quite light and will awake at the slightest movements, but she falls back asleep super fast so it doesn't really matter too much

— halfway through the night she gives up and just fully cuddles you while mumbling how much she loves you

— sagiri will likely wake up before you by a few hours simply because she's so used to waking up early that her body naturally does now, and will wake you up by gently kissing your face until you open your eyes and see her

Yuzuriha

— she didn't do it on purpose but she definitely won't be complaining about it that's for sure

— doesn't bother asking if you're okay with it or not, simply assumes you don't care so therefore she doesn't either

— like chobe, she will likely try to hit but she'll stop eventually, hopefully

— does not know what personal space is, like at all, she will be halfway across the bed sprawled onto your side

— she'll try and convince you to cuddle, not for any other motive but simply because she enjoys it and says it helps her sleep better

— the girl completely sprawls out when sleeping she can't stay still literally her legs will be across your body and she's not waking up anytime soon, so good luck struggling to move her

— like toma, yuzuriha has a hard grip she keeps on you so you won't be able to move a whole lot, whoops!

— you probably wake up first solely because when she has availability to sleep in she is definitely sleeping in, you'll have to bribe her with food to wake her up

Yamada Asaemon Shion

— is almost as confused as sagiri, but also doesn't mind it too much

— he will first ask your thoughts on the situation, if you want another room, him to sleep somewhere else, etc. then decide what to do

— once it's decided you two will share the bed, shion does everything in his power to make sure you aren't uncomfortable

— he won't even go near the bed until it's actually time to sleep

— when it is time to sleep he is so far away from you that you wonder if maybe he wants to get another room cause it seems like he's avoiding you but he just wants to ensure you have enough space

— he sleeps on his back straight like a stick figure trying to not take up a lot of space so you have more room

— but if you were to cuddle with him in the middle of the night he wouldn't be against it, would lean into it and keep an arm secured around you so he knows you're still there

— shion sleeps very lightly, so he will likely wake up a few times before eventually fully waking up, probably drinking tea while watching nature outside waiting for you to awake

#hells paradise x reader #jigokuraku x reader #hells paradise #jigokuraku #aza chobe #aza chobe x reader #chobe x reader #aza toma #aza toma x reader #toma x reader #yuzuriha jigokuraku #yuzuriha x reader #yamada asaemon shion #yamada asaemon shion x reader #shion x reader #yamada asaemon sagiri #yamada asaemon sagiri x reader #sagiri x reader

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daisyblog · 1 year

Text

Carpool Karaoke

When We Were Young Masterlist Summary: One Direction help James get to work.

“Hey man, hey mate..it’s me. Listen..I’m in a real bind traffic-wise, I know you’re in town, is there any way you’ll just be able to help me get to work?...Ugh are you serious?..Alright…yeah I’ll see you in two minutes okay” James spoke into his phone whilst sitting in the driver's seat of the car.

The passenger's side door opened and James greeted Niall “Hey man..thanks..thanks for this..I really appreciate it. The traffic...”, James was interrupted with the back door of the car opening with Louis entering, “James”.

“I only need one” James tried to explain but YN, Harry and Liam followed behind Louis and began to get comfy in the backseats, “I really don’t need everyone...Waaw” James said whilst looking confused at the entire band sitting in the car. Despite YN and Louis not being on the best of terms right now, since they broke up, they both put their media training to use and wear their best fake smiles as they were told they had to sit next to each other, to avoid fans and press thinking they were anything but civil right now.

“The more the merrier right?” Niall asked James.

“I guess, I guess..yeah, alright”

"Make sure you get your belts on" Louis spoke next to YN as he reached for his seatbelt behind him. There wasn't much room in the back so YN was squished between Harry and Louis, so she leaned forward in her seat, one for more space and two so she could avoid looking at her ex-boyfriend.

"If anyone needs a wee-" James said.

"I need a wee" YN joked, hoping James might stop the car to allow her to change spots.

"Hold it" James instructed, making YN pout "Do you mind if we listen to some music"

From her place between Louis and Harry, YN began to shout “One, two, three”

The whole band and James began to sing…

You're insecure, don't know what for You're turning heads when you walk through the door Don't need makeup to cover up Being the way that you are is enough

Everyone else in the room can see it Everyone else, but you, ooh Baby, you light up my world like nobody else The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed

But when you smile at the ground, it ain't hard to tell You don't know, oh-oh You don't know you're beautiful

If only you saw what I can see You'll understand why I want you so desperately Right now I'm lookin' at you, and I can't believe You don't know, oh-oh You don't know you're beautiful, oh, oh-oh That's what makes you beautiful

As YN wiggled back slightly because she could feel her seat getting warmer, she could feel Louis' eyes on her but she choose to stay looking in front before she spoke.

“Who the hell put my seat heater on…stop it boys" James and Niall laughed hysterically in the front “My ass is on fire” YN continued, but Louis was quick to turn to look out the window with a smirk on his face.

As James pointed out a car that was following them with some fans inside trying to take photos, Liam explained that the fan had been following him for weeks.

"Is it scary having people find out where you live?" James asked.

"It does get a bit..um..scary when they're kinda like close to your house" Louis began to explain, before turning to YN "Do you remember..that time I tweeted about there being nothing worse than not being able to have a cup of tea in the morning 'cause we didn't have any milk" YN swallowed at Louis mentioning the memory so casually despite them hardly saying two words to each other for what felt like years. "Within an hour...someone's ringing me doorbell..there's like this forty-five-year-old woman..she comes to the door she's like 'here's the milk'..and I'm like aw well thanks love"

Noticing YN dip her head to her eyes are focused on the floor, Harry playfully pinches her hip and she turns her head towards him and he puts up his thumb, a little gesture they do when they want to check that each other is okay.

The band had just done a band harmony with James and the intro of Best Song Ever began. YN, Liam and Harry moved their fists up and down into the air as they were dancing together. “..to the best song ever” James hit Zayn’s high note, and in sync, the whole band stopped and stared at him in shock with the biggest smiles on their faces.

“Go on James..hit that note” YN encouraged and start clapping for him, making James laugh.

“Bands when I was growing up would always do dance routines and wear the same clothes..and you’ve really kicked against that..why?” James asked.

“Because it’s weird” Harry said with a serious expression on his face.

“We just made a decision that we weren’t going to be that band” Niall explained.

Harry interrupted “I think it makes that when at the start people are dancers..and none of us danced”

"Don't put YN into the same category as us for dancing lad" Louis tried to compliment, making YN turn her head to look at him, to which he gave a friendly smile. She knew he was trying to win her back, he'd been trying for weeks but she wishes he would stop saying little things in interviews, on stage and when others were around. It was getting harder each day for her to get over him. Wishful thinking on her behalf.

With an idea already in his head, James suggested the band have a dance routine at some point.

“Why don’t you choreograph it for us and we’ll do it” YN suggested.

“Here’s the thing” James began “You never made a video of No Control..and I think we could make a video with choreography” At the mention of No Control, YN tensed up because it was no secret that Louis had written the song and it wasn't rocket science to know that he had written it about his sex life with YN.

“Alright” Louis agreed.

“Ok..come with me on this” James said before showing the band the actions to each line from the chorus of No Control.

“So you do this…waking up beside you” James instructed whilst leaning his head on his hand and then lifting his head up and pointing forward, each of you copying his actions.

The next action made everyone laugh, “I’m a loaded gun”, James points down to his crotch, all of them copying. YN and Harry glanced at each other with raised eyebrows, wondering what James was going to think of next. Not going unnoticed Louis whispers something into YN's ear, making her roll her eyes at him but fans were quick to point out that whatever Louis had said to her made her lips turn up into a little smile.

“I can’t contain this anymore” with everyone's hands out in front of them. For “there’s no control, no control” James instructed them all to wave their finger out in front of them.

Next, James and Niall gave the band in the back, matching denim jackets to create the video. Everyone performed with sass and really gave the fans what they wanted.

“Do you know the game sleep with, marry, cruise?” James asked and continued to explain the rules of the game.

Niall was first, “Niall I’ll give you three people, you're three are Demi Lovato, Selena Gomez and Tina Fay” James stated with a cheeky grin on his face.

Niall began to think, but it didn’t take him too long “Sleep with Tina Fay”

“Nice” James interrupted with an impressed smile.

“Marry Selena Gomez”

“Good choice, why not”

“And go on..go on a cruise with Demi Lovato” “Great fun, great voice” James stated and was proud of Niall’s choices.

But what fans were really interested in was Louis clearly looking at YN whilst Niall answered and mouthing the words "I'd marry you".

The intro to Perfect began to play and instantly the band all started to sing whilst clapping their hands to the beat.

But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms And if you like having secret little rendezvous If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn't do Then baby, I'm perfect Baby, I'm perfect for you And if you like midnight driving with the windows down And if you like going places we can't even pronounce If you like to do whatever you've been dreaming about Then baby, you're perfect Baby, you're perfect So let's start right now

One thing that didn’t go unnoticed was the way YN kept glancing in Louis's direction as she sang.

To end the band and James sang Drag Me Down, all clapping in sync.

All my life, you stood by me When no one else was ever behind me All these lights, they can't blind me With your love, nobody can drag me down

Nobody, nobody

Nobody can drag me down

During the bridge, YN began to rap,

Ain't nothing to break a chain or two Nothing to nothing to break chain W Hear the spit about a penthouse view Yo changing, looking out from my red house view yo That's all is done when the boys come through yo Changing, looking out from my red house view (what) Don't think about, be it What nobody can do D to the R to the A to the G me down, ain't nothing to be around Harry and, James, woah woah Niall, Liam, and Louis and YN too Woah, hey, woah, hey, woah, hey, woah, hey, woah, hey, woah, hey, woah, woah, woah, woah The boys looked at her in shock but couldn’t help but dance and encourage her. Louis started shouting, and Harry clapped along.

YN and Harry harmonise your first high-note riffs together.

“Nobody can drag me down!”

They both keep singing loudly in Liam and Louis's ears to annoy them but as they both get to the second note they can’t help it any longer and just both burst into laughter. James turns in his seat and bursts into a high-pitched laughter too!

“Thanks for helping me get to work guys”

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @peterholland04

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dr-trafalgar-law · 3 months

Text

Trafalgar Law X CisFem Reader

The morning started calmly enough. You'd woken up a little too early, so you pulled Azul up from the foot of the bed to snuggle. She'd turned out to be very affectionate, especially after being able to remove her e-collar. Wherever you sat or laid down, she was right there. If she could crawl up into your clothes to be closer to you, you believed she would.

As you were drifting back off to get a few more minutes of sleep something shifted and fell outside your window. The loud thud startled Azul and she reared back headbutting you in the mouth. It took a few seconds for you to register what just happened between the pain and Azul's barking. You nearly gagged as blood pooled over your tongue.

Quickly you hopped up and rinsed your mouth out so you could assess the damage. Thankfully your teeth were still intact. Your bottom lip however, was split and swelling by the second. After grabbing a paper towel and an ice pack you sat back down in your bed to calm down. Poor Azul approached carefully with her ears back and licked your forearm.

“I'm ok mama,” you rubbed between her ears, “I know you didn't mean to.”

It was still early as you stood in the break room sipping your cold brew. The last thing you wanted was hot coffee touching your poor split lip.

Law also arrived at the practice before most of the day shift to do some prep before a day full of procedures. He'd hoped to make it to the break room before anyone else to make his coffee in peace. When he rounded the corner, there you were. Coffee already brewed and his favorite mug set out next to Marco's.

You winced, flashing a quick smile at him, “Thanks for the coffee the other day.”

His gaze dropped straight to your lips, “What happened there?”

“You should see the other guy.” You chuckled, covering the wound with your left hand.

“What?” His eyes widened in genuine surprise.

“Ahah-ow.” You winced again, “it hurts to laugh. I was joking. Azul bonked me in the face this morning.”

“May I?” He asked, stepping closer to you.

It was endearing to see the doctors get into their medical zone. You nodded, moving your hand. Your stomach flipped as he carefully tipped your chin up to get a better look. He didn't make any more effort to touch you other than tilting your head slightly left and then right. The contusion was deep purple, almost making the cut impossible to see. You started to feel warm having him so close and focused on your face.

“Think I'll recover doc?”

“Of course.” He blinked and stepped back, “Honestly, it might need a stitch. The cut is pretty deep.”

“Ah,” he watched you shift, “I was going to have Dr. Newgate, uhm… take a look at it.”

Law's brow twitched before relaxing in realization, “So, you know.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, “All of the staff does. We don't talk about it though, don't worry.”

“You two look cozy over there.” Shachi called as he entered the room.

“I was just…” Law trailed off as the redhead swiftly stepped forward cupping your cheeks.

“F/N! What happened?!” He snapped back to the doctor, “you let her just walk around in pain like this?”

Law's eyes widened briefly before narrowing in irritation, “I-”

“Azul headbutted me. Dr. Trafalgar was only taking a look, calm down.” You chuckled, placing your hands on Shachi’s wrists.

Law filled his cup and made his way back to his office while the tech gushed and prattled on. He couldn't believe he'd just done that. If there was one non-medical thing he was skilled at since joining Phoenix Rising - it was avoiding the adorable, charming, doe-eyed receptionist. He didn't have time in his life for love. Especially not with a coworker.

“Well, you never do anything half assed-yoi.” Dr. Newgate adjusted his glasses with his free hand while your chin rested in the other.

“Consistency is something I strive for.” You replied.

“As usual, I won't heal it completely but you won't need any stitches.” He held up his right hand as his index finger ignited into soft blue flames.

“Are you sure your girlfriend is ok with this~?” You teased as he lowered his hand to touch your lip.

Marco furrowed his brow in contrast to the bright blush that spread across his face.

“Hush, or I won't heal anything-yoi.” A devious smirk tugged at his lips, “I hear you and Trafalgar were getting along this morning.”

It was your turn to blush.

“Do me a favor and don't heal Shashi’s fat lips when I'm done with him.”

“I'm almost done, be still.” He chuckled.

The flames of Marco's phoenix devil fruit were warm and comforting. You could feel the sting of your cut lessen as it was healed.

“All finished-yoi.” He declared stepped away from you.

“Thanks doc, you're the best.” You gently touched your lip and gave him a bright smile before reaching for the door.

“I expect a coffee tomorrow as payment!” He called after you.

“You got it.” You waved as the door shut behind you.

The majority of the day passed by uneventfully. Dr. Newgate left early after his last appointment for the day cancelled. After Dr. Trafalgar’s last procedure of the day he appeared in the lobby still dressed in his navy scrubs. He walked over to stand across the desk from you with a few forms in his hands.

You watched his eyes shift from the paper to you, “Sugar -” A bright blush exploded across his face while you looked up at him equally embarrassed.

He opened his mouth again but nothing came out.

You cleared your throat as he looked at the papers again.

“That's the patient I just worked on.. not you.” He murmured, “Can you please scan this and email it to the client?”

“Sure.” You reached up for the paper.

Normally he would have left by now but an awkward silence was building.

“Do you need it back?”

Before he could answer you the front door swung open startling you both.

“Quick please!” A woman shouted as she burst into the lobby carrying a miniature dachshund that was convulsing.

Law didn't hesitate to take the dog from her and rush to the treatment area. You paged for the treatment techs to meet him there and grabbed a premade folder of paperwork you kept on hand for just such occasions. Quickly you took the frantic client into an exam room to get the forms filled out and help her calm down before one of the treatment techs could come in and get history from her.

“I… Google said it would treat his cancer.” She muttered, shakily taking the clipboard.

“What did you give him?” You asked, feeling uneasy.

“I-it said ivermectin* w-would help…” She sobbed.

“Ivermectin?” You asked hoping that wasn't what she’d actually said.

“Yes. The article said it would-”

“How much did you give him?” You interrupted knowing you needed to get this information to the doctor immediately.

“Half the tube.”

“I'll be right back.” You stepped out the backdoor into the treatment area and froze.

The room was buzzing as a translucent blue sphere bloomed around Dr. Trafalgar and the seizing dachshund. His golden eyes snapped to you as he raised his left hand.

He has a devil fruit.

** Ivermectin is a horse dewormer. Do NOT ever take this yourself or give to any pet that isn't a horse!

This is actually something that happened. (Not at my clinic)

Do not give your pet anything that was not authorized by their veterinarian.

#puppy love #one piece #slow burn #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #x reader #18+ mdni #marco the phoenix #fem reader #closure #lyndsyh24

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barcalover86 · 1 year

Note

Can we please get sick gavi being looked after by his girl and he’s just pouty and sad but she fully babies him? 🥹 your writing is so good your updates make my day!!

Sacrifice

Thank youu!!

Masterlist

Pablo wasn't feeling too well today, since morning when you woke up next to him you noticed that he was acting different.

You asked him if he was okay and he only told you that he is just feeling a little dizzy, but only because he didn't eat enough, which you believed.

It was the Sunday after a game and it was his day off. You talked a few days before that you were going to visit his parents today and go to some party together, but now you were eating and Pablo seemed like he only got worse.

"Amor, you don't look too well. Please tell me, does something hurt you because it's clearly not the hunger anymore?"

"I don't know, I just feel...weak? I don't even have the strength to stand up now" he laughed, but you were serious.

"No joking, Pablo! Let's go to the couch and I'll see what I can get you to feel better"

He did as you said, and you tried to look for some special medicinel (anti-doping). There weren't many options, so you decided to give him some tea, hoping it would make him feel better.

"I don't have any pills for you so I'm just gonna go buy some, ok? Wait for me here, I'll be back. Drink your tea!!" you said to him while kissing his forehead, which was kinda more hot than his normal temperature.

You looked at him in awe, with a sad face. He only smiled back at you and thanked you.

"Come back quickly, please." he laughed and your rolled your eyes.

You went to buy him some plants medicine and some things to make him a soup. When you got back, Pablo was still on the couch, but now he was sleeping. He was sweating like crazy and he was really red which made you a bit scared.

You tried to prepare him a glass of water, seeing that he finished his tea, to give him the pills you bought, without making any loud noises to wake him up.

"Cariño, wake up a second, please!" you said gently, touching his face slowly.

"Hmmmmm" he said with a crying voice.

"Is it that bad, Pablito?" you asked him while giving him the glass of water.

He only nodded and you touched his forehead and cheeks, feeling the hotness from his skin. You made a sad face, seeing your boyfriend that sick, made you really scared and in that moment, all you wanted to do was to take his pain away.

You kissed his cheek and helped Pablo to go to sleep again, telling him that after 2 hours, you would wake him up to eat some soup.

Pablo was sleeping peacefully while you were preparing the food for him and when it was ready, you woke him up again to help him eat.

He had tears in his eyes, saying to you that it was hard for him to breath and that he is feeling really hot. You gave him a towel that you put in really cold water to put it on his forehead and cheeks, so that he would feel a bit better. It helped him a lot and you gave him another pill, hoping that it would help him even more.

You called his parents to say that you can't make it today and they understood, hoping for their boy to be healthy again. They were really thankful for you, taking care of their son.

You as well called Xavi to tell him that Gavi is not feeling well and he might miss some of his training sessions.

Now you were on the couch, playing with Gavi's hair while he was holding your hand, sleeping. You didn't do anything for hours, only watching him.

He was sleeping a lot, that being the only think he could do, without being in pain. Every hour, you would change his towel to another and at every 3 hours, you wpuld give him his medicine again with a cup of tea with honey.

That night, you hadn't slept at all. You only watched him sleep on you. You wanted to be sure that nothing happened to him.

You did everything to make him feel better. You even helped him shower in the morning so that he wouldn't feel the hotness for some time. You would make him food that helped him recover quickly and were sure to give him enough protein to not lose that much of his muscles. He had to return soon to his training so you tried to prepare him a bit.

You would stay with him all the time, him being really clingy now. Always cuddling with you, sleeping on your lap, or holding one of your fingers. You were always there for him, and he was so thankful for having you in his life.

It wasn't easy to look out for Gavi, but you really loved him, and for every sacrifice you did to stay beside him, you knew he deserved it.

I hope you liked it!!! Have a nice day love youu

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beaker1636 · 10 months

Text

MIW how you met and when they realized they liked you

Vinny

I feel like the two of you would meet through mutual friends honestly, he’s a gamer and clearly enjoys doing it with his friends (his LAN stream) so I feel like you would meet through mutual friends at some get together he’s having

And he’s like woah? A girl that’s playing WoW and not bitching about it? She’s actively enjoying it? She’s not whining all the boys are spending so much time doing it? Maybe I should like get to know her a little bit and make friends

And that leads to active gaming sessions together both when he’s home and on tour

And during said gaming sessions you two grow closer, starting to talk more 1-1 and about your lives, etc.

And one day he’s suddenly like wait, I am constantly checking my messages and shit to see if I’m hearing from her, what the hell is wrong with me?

Truthfully I could see him realizing he likes you and then distancing himself a little bit to try and figure out if he actually likes you like that or not

But once he realizes he does, and he misses hearing from you all the time it’s game over.

Next time y’all play he’d causally make a joke or something about you having a boyfriend just to feel you out, see if you do or not

And the second you say you don’t well, now the two of you have a date planned for when tour is over.

Ricky

I hands down believe that you’d meet Ricky in a way to do with books. For this I’m going with an online book club

The two of you wind up replying back to each others comments a lot and seem to enjoy talking about the books so much that eventually one of you starts your own conversation in the others inbox

That leads to you having more in depth conversations about the books you are both reading and you both find out you are authors

So then you two discuss what you are writing with each other, glad to finally have a friend who understands what it’s like to wake up from a dream with a random idea, to hate what your idea turned into, etc.

Eventually it leads to more personal conversations and you realize you both live close by so you meet for coffee after months of talking online to each other

By the end of that conversation he knows that he can’t let you walk away without at least trying to get a date with you so he asks

A couple dates in he’s convinced this is it, he wants nothing more than being in a relationship with you and finally asks

Chris

Chris low key confuses me a little bit

I feel like you would meet through work somehow, that you were a makeup artist, photographer that shot them for something, an interviewer, something along those lines

And the two of you have to remain in contact to discuss your ongoing project, slowly getting to know each other as time goes on

But you’d have to deal with his stubborn and hard head, because this man is a perfectionist and if the project you are working on together isn’t going how he wants it to he’s going to be up your ass and frustrated

Like we’re talking the two of you arguing for hours because you think this idea for the photo shoot would be better than his, or that this makeup look is better than what he is wanting you to do

But in the end it comes out great and he comes out of his shell, the two of you continuing to talk long after the project is done.

I think it would take him the longest to come to terms with the fact that he likes you

Okay but I just want to know how her day is because she’s my friend

Yeah she’s beautiful but just because I think she is doesn’t mean I like her

Oh fuck, I do have a crush on her

Like he would be pissed off with himself for the fact he likes you, because he’s too busy and doesn’t have enough time to worry about someone else

Honestly I could see him debating if he should continue to talk to you or not anymore because he doesn’t want a relationship, isn’t looking for one

But you’re stubborn so when he tries to cut you off you make sure you still send him a good morning text, or whatever every single day until you finally see him in person

Which leads to a fight, him trying to say can’t you see I’m too busy for this? That I’m not interested?

And by the end of the fight he’s kissing you and that’s how the cookie crumbles

Ryan

He confuses me slightly

He’s really chill but I genuinely think he’d be impressed with someone who is an amazing artist in their own right

Whether that be you’re a fellow musician, an author, etc

So going with musician he sees you playing one night with your band that his friend drug him to go see

And you’re just fucking amazing at guitar, like you blow him away with how talented you are

His friend knows someone in your band so they introduce the two of you and you spend half the night talking about your set ups, favorite brands of guitars and strings, your pedals, etc

This leads to you exchanging numbers and discussing different things musically

He continues to go to your bands shows at the local bars/venues

One day he sees you on stage and suddenly he finds you attractive

Like fuck, has her hair always been that nice? Have her eyes always been that bright? She looks so amazing and happy up there doing it, I love that

And eventually the messages about your music turns into more

And one day he accidentally texts you instead of his friend saying how he’s debating asking you out

And you of course message him back asking him to just ask you so that you can say yes already 😅

Justin

I feel like he’d be one that would 100% run into you at a bar and be like fuck, who’s that?

Admires you all night from afar, maybe buy you a drink

And when the bartender points out who bought your next drink you make your way over

Just to say thanks, not intending to hit on him or anything

And that’s all it is, you say thanks, you talk for a little bit and get along and then your friends want to move on to the next bar so you do, not exchanging numbers

He wishes you both did because the two of you hit it off pretty well in his opinion

A week or two later you are out with friends again and he’s at a bar you are at, and is like fuck this, I’m going to go talk to her

You both wind up talking for hours, long after both of your friends left, giving up on getting you to go with them and same for him.

Next thing you know the two of you are at a late night diner having dinner together and still enjoying your company, finally exchanging numbers before you leave

You wind up asking him out before he asks you, deciding you liked him and it was worth just being forward.

It doesn’t take long before he asks you to be his girlfriend though, you beat him to asking him on a date but he’s determined he’s going to beat you to defining the relationship

#okay I loved this one #had a lot of fun with it #motionless in white #vinny mauro #fanfiction #bree sucks at fanfiction #motionless in white imagine #chris motionless #ryan sitkowski #justin morrow #miw #miw band #vinny mauro x reader #chris motionless x reader #ricky olson x reader #Ryan sitkowski x reader #justin morrow x reader

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23starii · 3 months

Text

Part 2/2 Kenma Kozume X Reader

((Not my photos!!))

Find part one here

The game of connection!! ♡︎♥︎♥︎♡︎

Summary: Kenma will!! He will get your number.. or something.

Warnings/notes:intrusive thoughts, anxiety, I'm really sorry if this is dookie, tumblr deleted my progress twice, I gave up a little bit 😹pls lmk if I missed any warnings I'm not good at identifying them!!

It had been two whole days since Kenma last saw you.

As he begrudgingly made his way home after a long day of practice, along with Kuroo, he theorized that you might be avoiding him.

But no, that couldn't possibly be the case..why would you not show up to class just to avoid him?

He was playing tricks on himself again, making himself worry for no reason at all.

"Did ya get her number??" Kuroo questioned.

"..I didn't get a chance. She wasn't here." He reluctantly replied.

"What? Seriously?"

"Mhm."

"Ha! Maybe she hates you or something!!" Kuroo joked, Kenma didn't find it so funny.

Kuroo's words shot through his body, leaving him paralyzed, or well, that's what it felt like, but he was still moving. His eyes shot open, and he grumbled quietly.

Kuroo glanced at the shorter setter, finding him distraught.

"Hey, it was a joke!" He cleared, realizing his effect.

"I know.."

That night, Kenma got home, and he hoped he would see you the next day, back in your seat.

Attempt number one: Fail

Kenma sat in his seat, staring at the screen of his Nintendo. It was not lit. The colors were not reflected on his face. He wasn't playing. He was thinking.

If she misses today, too, then she definitely hates me.

His intrusive thoughts were demanding.

"Good morning, Kenma!" Your sweet voice snapped him from his horrid thoughts.

"Kenma?"

"Oh, hello." He finally responded, only taking a second to glance at you.

"What's up?? Did you miss me?" She teased, sitting to his left. That wasn't her seat, but it wasn't class time yet, so she supposed it was okay.

Kenma clicked the POWER button of his Nintendo. He could finally play again. Your presence eased him.

He didn't answer your question.

"Kenmaaa~," she called, a giggle escaping her lips, clouding the boy's thought process.

"Aren't colds the worst? I can't believe I missed out on two whole days.." She mentioned, leaving Kenma relieved. His breathing felt easier.

"Mhm. Yeah, they suck." He answered. The bright colors of his game reflected onto his face his fingers moved quickly and with ease as he clicked the buttons and rolled the black joystick.

"Do you ever get colds? I feel like you would get them often." She stuck her head closer, taking a peak at his game while she spoke.

"Oh, I do, actually. It really sucks. I guess I'm prone to them or something."

You hummed in response, focusing on the screen in his hands. You thought he was really good at video games.

Kenma suddenly got an uncomfortable reminder that he was supposed to ask for your number.

Well, he didn't have to. But it would be nice to have it. It was only the process of getting it that stumped him. How would he go about it?

He wasn't made for these sorts of situations. That much was evident. There was also the chance that you didn't even want to give him your number. What, then? It would be awkward.

...

Then again, if you hated him for asking, it would hurt, but at least he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.

That's what he had to live by in order to have a chance. A singular, minuscule chance.

With you?

But..not yet. He just wasn't brave enough.

Attempt number two: Not close enough.

"Kenmaa"

"Kenma?"

His head lifted, by the time you called out his name for a second time.

It was nice.. waking up to your voice.

He lifted his head from the desk it rested on.

"You fell asleep. Again." You stated, watching the sleepy boy wake up and rub his face before turning his attention to you.

God, why does he look so attractive when he's just waking up..

This is what you thought every single time you had to wake the sleeping boy up.

When his eyes adjusted to the lights and your face, he noticed your arm was stretched out to him.

"Here." You said. You held his book bag in your hand. Yours strapped onto your shoulder.

"Oh, thank you." He said, lifting his body from the desk before taking the bag from you ny the strap.

"It's club time! Shall we go?" You grinned. He nodded and hummed in agreement.

"Volleyball, right?" You wondered, glancing at him as the two of you exited the classroom.

"Yeah. What do you have?" That was one of the first times kenma mustered up the courage to ask you a question about yourself.

"I have [club name]!"

"Hm. That actually makes sense." He responded, a smile creeping onto his lips.

"What's that supposed to mean..?"

"Nothing."

You laughed.

As the two of you made your ways through the emty and emptier halls, Kenma realized it was over.

There was no way he could ask for your number now...

He should just try again tomorrow.. when he comes up with a plan.

He just wasn't brave enough..

Attempt three: win, win!

Kenma spent all of practice hoping to come up with a plan.

"Kenma, you're slower than usual." He hears the voice of his upperclassmen, yaku state.

"Sorry.." he replies, hiding behind his hair.

The short third year gives Kuroo, who was close by, a look.

Being the captain and concerned for his younger friend, Kuroo called for a five minute break.

Kenma, along with his teammates, headed for the water bottles.

When he finally got his hands on his own bottle, he made his way to a corner of the gym where he usually played on his phone until break was over.

"Kenma. Did you get it?" Kuroo asks. He was already at the corner, waiting for the second year.

"What? Oh.." Kenma didn't give a direct answer. He only held onto his bottle and stared at the floor.

"..did she show up?" The raven haired male crossed his arms, wishing for a good update.

"She did.. but I didn't get a chance. I didn't know how to ask."

Kuroo sighed.

"She didn't show up for the past few days, right?"

Kenma looked up at the captain, confused.

"She didn't." He replied anyway.

"Okay, so how about you ask her if she needs notes? Then, offer to take her number so you can send them?" Kuroo suggested. He also hoped this was a good plan. He didn't have much experience with asking girls for their numbers, actually..

"Um.." Kenma thought that was a good idea actually. He thought he would have to use that excuse the next time he saw you.

Hopefully, you hadn't gotten the notes from a different classmate already.

He was about to say something when suddenly, he was caught completely off guard.

It was you, right at the door. You were talking with Yaku, and you looked lost.

Kenma was absolutely mortified.

What the hell??

What are you doing here? What?? What???

Kuroo didn't fail to catch the sudden shift in his friends expression. He followed the setters eyes to you.

What really pushed kenma over the edge was the moment yaku looked around, spotted kenma, lifted his arm to point a finger at him, and then said something to you.

The second year immediately averted his eyes. He did his best to act nonchalant, like he hadn't seen you.

You aren't there if he can't see you..

"Kenma!" He had no choice but to look up. You were heading his way, you book bag strapped to your shoulder like before.

"Kenma! I'm so sorry! I messed up!"

Sorry? Wait. What?

You stopped right in front of him, cheeks burning out of embarrassment. An upperclassmen was watching too. You were super embarrassed.

"Um.. I accidentally swapped our bags..I'm really sorry!" You bowed your head apologetically.

"Oh..that's okay." Kenma answered, stunned.

"So.. can I have mine back?" You wondered, straightening your back and lifting your head to face him.

"Oh, yeah.. it's over here." He didn't wait for you to react before quickly making his way over to a nearby bench.

You turned to the tall third year who had been standing there and gave a quick bow rigjt before speedwalking to catch up with your classmate.

"Again, I'm really sorry.." You repeated.

"It's okay, really." He said.

His mind was racing. He said he'd ask you the next time he saw you.. did he manifest this or something??

Oh crap..

Is he brave enough to do it now..?

No, no way.

Kenma closed his eyes, turned away from you, and took a deep breath, knowing he'd probably never do it. He picked up the book bag and turned to hand it over. He felt absolutely defeated.

He was a coward.

"Thank you, kenma. Here's yours." You smiled gingerly, taking the bag and handling over his.

"Yeah, no problem." He glanced at you for a second.

"Um..Kenma?" You spoke.

He looked at you.

"So.. I haven't been here the past few days.. I was told I missed a lot." You began, a flip switched inside of the young setter.

"Could you possibly lend me some notes.. if you took any, that is." You scratched your cheek, looking off to the side.

Now kenma stared at you.

You opened up a path. An opportunity.

"I'm kind of busy right now."

"Oh..thats okay I can just get them from someone else-"

"I can send them to you later..?" He quickly added, not letting you finish. He was not letting you take this opportunity when he just got it.

Your eyes lit up and you looked at him.

"Really?!"

"Yeah, if you wanna give me your number..or something."

Mission: Success!

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