#he has all this money over their heads and that is a Big Difference between book and show babe
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Trouble
Joe Burrow x Reader
Your friends and family aren’t fond of Joe
“Seriously, he’s trouble. I can’t believe you’re going out with him.” Your friend scoffed, turning off the end of the Bengals game.
“He’s not trouble!” You defend him. “Really, he’s a nice guy!”
“Oh really? Is that why you’ve refused to tell your parents you’re dating him?”
“They’re just not big Bengal fans. It has nothing to do with Joe.” You lied as your friend rolled her eyes.
You had been secretly dating Joe Burrow, the Cincinnati Bengals Quarterback for 7 months now. It’s true, most people weren’t fond of Joe. He comes across as cocky, rude, and privileged. Plus his current bad boy edit doesn’t help much. Joe had recently gotten himself into trouble. He’s found a love for partying, blowing his money, and being reckless. All causing excess fame and a negative spotlight, something you wanted to avoid.
“Are you sure it has nothing to do with the fact that he got suspended from games for legal trouble? Or has shown up to practice violently hungover?”
“How’d you hear about that?” You questioned.
She laughed, “It’s all over the news. He’s gonna get himself into some real trouble and not have a career here soon.”
“He’s working on turning things around. Really. I swear.” You do your best to defend him again. You seem to be doing that a lot lately. “Plus we’ve only been seeing each other for a few months. I’m just having fun.”
“I know, and I’m happy for you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” She reaches out and takes your hand. “But I know none of that is going to change your mind, so go have fun tonight.”
“I love you. If my mom asks, I’m here!” You remind her and head out the door, “Your pizza should be here soon and I logged into my Netflix account!” You figured if your friend has to spend the night posted up in her room to cover for you, you might as well take care of her.
You hopped into your car and headed over to Joes house, he was throwing a party after the game. Joe’s parties were always fun, usually a little wild, and typically ended with the police kicking people out and shutting things down. As much as Joe was trying to work past his bad boy edit, he couldn’t help it. He’s young and having fun.
The loud music from Joe’s house is rattling your car as you pull into his driveway. He’s outside on the porch with some teammates smoking a cigar.
As you walk through his thick cloud of smoke and clear the air in front of your face with your hand, Joe pulls you into a hug.
“There’s my baby.” His words slurred, you’re unsure if it’s from alcohol or the thick cigar pressed between his lips.
“Hi, Joey.” You wrap your arms around his waste and snuggle into his chest. “Good game, congrats on the win.”
He pulls the cigar from his mouth, “I want you to come to the next one.” He smiles.
“Me? At the game? Isn’t it in a different state?” You question, suddenly nervous. You and Joe had been casually dating, nothing was public yet.
“The next home game.” He laughs, blowing a thick cloud of smoke over your head. “2 weeks.”
“I’ll think about it.” You try and reassure him.
“Think about it?” He asks offended.
“Well, yeah..I don’t… I’m not sure…” you feel his arms drop from around you. “I’m not sure I’m ready to go public yet.” You nervously tell him.
“It’s a football game. Not a red carpet.” He says annoyed.
“I know but…”
He cuts you off “It’s fine. Don’t come.”
“Joe I want to!” You reassure him.
“Seems like it.” He scoffs before heading inside, you following close behind.
“Joe I do! Really, there’s nothing I’d love more! I just still haven’t told many people about us, and you know, you haven’t had the best press lately and I don’t want to mess that up anymore for you and I just worry that-“
He presses the cigar to your mouth “take this.” He laughs cutting you off. “I’m sorry about the press. I’m working on it. Tomorrow I have a fun event at the elementary school. Next week, the high school. And the whole team is volunteering at the blood drive. Nothing but positive press up until the game.”
“Wow, what’s next? Taking a shift at the old folks home? Serving in the soup kitchen?” You tease.
He rolls his eyes, “So are you coming to the game or not?”
“I guess you better find me a Burrow jersey, because I’ll be there.” You smile.
The rest of the night is a blur. Lots of drinks, lots of dancing, too many sweaty bodies, and even louder music. You wake up the next morning tangled up in bed with Joe. His heavy arm around your waste and soft breathing on the backside of your neck. You slowly loosen his grip and start to make your way out of bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He grumbles, barely audible.
“Home.” You slip your shoes on. “And you need to get up too. Your elementary school meet and greet starts in 45 minutes.” You sit down on the side of the bed again. “I don’t think the elementary school principal appreciates his guest of honor showing up smelling like a mini bar.”
“You’re probably right.” He slowly starts to sit up. “I’ll reserve some spots for you for the game.” He says. “Any request on where you want to sit?”
All the nerves come back. “Doesn’t matter.” You smile at him, wishing you could avoid the game all together. It’s not that you were ashamed to be with him, you were just anxious about what people, especially your parents will say. “I’m gonna get out of here.” You quickly excuse yourself, not sure if the sudden butterflies in your stomach are from drinking too much, or the next home game.
You call your best friend on your way and tell her all about the game.
“You’re gonna have to tell your parents.”
“I can’t! They will freak if they find out I’ve been dating him!”
“So are you going to keep your relationship a secret forever?”
“I don’t know I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“Well scratch that thought, it’s not a secret anymore.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Check your phone.”
As you pull in your parents drive way, you pull out your phone to see a news article your friend sent you, a picture of you and Joe is on the front page. “Where did you find this?” You panicked.
“I was just checking E! News. It looks like every major magazine is covering it now!”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” You sigh, “I have to tell them now. I’ve got to go, but I’ll call you later. I’ll probably need some support.”
“Good luck!” She says and ends the call.
“You’re WHAT?” You dad hollers, slamming down the news paper he was reading.
“Dad, he’s a nice guy. Really I -“
“No. The little romance you guys having going on is over. I can’t believe this. You’re such a good girl, why would you want to be with someone like him?”
“He’s nothing like what the press makes him out to be. He’s actually really kind, and supportive, and is volunteering a lot for the community.”
“I don’t care if he’s the president. You are not being seen with someone like him.”
“About that..”
“What?”
“Well the news got pictures of me at his house last night and leaked a story.” You hide your face in your hands.
“At his house?” Your mom questions. “So you’ve been lying to us? Clearly he’s a bad influence to be hanging around.”
“I lied because I knew you would react like this. You’re not even giving him a chance.”
“I’ve never seen you defend someone like this. What is going on?”
“I’m…”
Your dad crosses his arms across his chest “I’m in love with him. And I’m going to be with him and support him no matter how you feel. You don’t know him like I do.”
“I’ve never seen you fight for someone like this.”
“Because, I love him.”
Your dad sighs, “I don’t know if I like the sound of that. But I’m willing to give him a chance. Why don’t you invite him over.”
“Really?!”
“Like I said,” he pauses, “I’m not crazy about him, but I can tell that you, and for that reason, I want to get to know him.”
A few hours later, Joe shows up on your front porch and confidently knocks on the front door.
“Hi Joey.” You greet him with a smile and hug. “You look great… did you iron your shirt?” You tease him, brushing a hand across his perfectly pressed shirt.
“Steamed it actually.” He smiles, “I wanted to make a good impression.” He nervously takes your hand and follows you into the house.
“Mom, Dad, this is Joe.” You awkwardly present him to your parents.
He politely shakes their hands and takes a seat at the table next to you.
You feel his hand find its way to your thigh, his palms are sweaty, and his fingers are nervously tapping across your leg. You reassuringly take his hand into yours and lightly rub across the top and share a confident smile.
At the end of dinner, you and Joe excuse yourselves and you walk him to the porch.
“They loved you.” You kiss him.
“I’m so relieved.”
“My dad even wants to go to the game with me!”
He laughs, “I’ll get extra tickets.”
Relieved that your parents were pleased with Joe, you walked him out, he kissed you goodnight, and you sent him on his way home.
It’s official and the world knows, you’re in love with Joe Burrow.
#joe burrow#joe burrow fic#joe burrow fluff#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow one shot#joe burrow smut#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow insta au#joe burrow instagram#nfl fluff#nfl smut#nfledit#nfl fan fic#nfl imagine
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Honestly another thing that annoys me about Gabe's death in the show is that the downplayed nature of the abuse makes his fate, for lack of a better word, inappropriate. Gabe being an explicitly physically and emotionally abusive bastard was what warranted him dying in the book. Yes, he is still financially abusive in the show, but he's more of a pathetic slob than a monster. Contemptable, sure, but hardly worth killing. At best, his death is a tasteless gag. At worst, it's disproportionate retribution.
fr like. after the first episode i was like well what the hell are they gonna do at the end of the series? from episode one it was always gonna be either don’t kill off the loser and commit to erasing a woman and her child’s story of surviving abuse, or do kill off the loser and have it be a completely unjustified killing (not only bc of the reduced abuse but bc they outright state sally divorced him!! book sally had no other alternative divorce financially was Not on the table!!). he might have been killed by his own hand in-universe, but the writers made that call, purposefully, to condemn his actions so severely they warrant death. i’ve seen people who don’t even believe his death was warranted in the books just out of the principle all killing is wrong—my opinion is firstly it’s fiction but secondly it sends a pretty clear fucking message that you don’t get to be an abusive fuck and walk away scott-free. self-defense and justice have a right to serve consequences, and sometimes those consequences are your wife with righteous blood lust and a desperate need for education funds
#not to mention like!! the way gabe is abusive in the show is being purposefully incompetent#which is an abuse tactic yes#book gabe does it too#however. book gabe has a job. he makes more than sally. and yet he spends most of his time playing poker#and ordering her to do his bidding#he has all this money over their heads and that is a Big Difference between book and show babe#*gabe. i don’t feel like giving this man the respect he deserves in fixing the autocorrect#second Not To Mention is like. sally did. it just kill gabe for herself. yes of course she did it for her but also for percy#*not#her son is twelve years old. what kind of mother would she be in her own eyes if she allowed her twelve year old son to kill a man#she kept him close to her bc she by her own admission selfishly wanted to keep him close#she has this clear need to protect his innocence where she can. she’s not abt to let her kid kill a human being#she’s being the adult here and doing it herself#sally’s drive in TLT has ALWAYS been to protect her son#it’s why she dated married and stayed with gabe and ultimately part of why she herself killed him#pjo show crit#percy jackson#sally jackson#gabe ugliano#anon ask#asks#ris raves
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𝐒𝐈𝐗 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 ft Gojo Satoru
— Six years. He’s loved you for six years. He was too young back then but now he’s not. And he plans on showing you that.
᧔♡᧓ Semi Yandere! Gojo x Fem! Reader
᧔♡᧓ Content: age gap (gojo’s 21 n reader is 27), obsessive behavior, smut, pussy eating, porn with some plot, cheating while in talking stage, petnames, praise, breeding, baby trapping, manipulation, gaslighting
᧔♡᧓ A/n: reader always saw gojo as a brother since he was so young, and never really developed feelings for him. it was just lust taking over when they fucked
Six years of friendship with your current best friend. Six years in which her little brother Gojo has had a crush on you. Six years of you only cooing with a giggle as you ruffled his fluffy white head of hair before calling his doting nature cute.
Six years.
Six years that he’s waited for you, becoming more of a man for you. Working out, gaining experience. It was all for you.
You’re twenty seven now, barely any different since the first time he met you. Your soft features still as beautiful as ever and your body just as perfect as he remembered. He’s studied you over the years. Every single time you came over. Studied your patterns, your every move, your likes, your dislikes, he’d even gotten to know your type.
He’d loved you since he was fifteen.
But he’s not a little kid anymore. He’s grown. Twenty one years old. Mature enough to be yours, to take care of you. He deserved you after waiting for so long. And he would show you. Show you that you needed him just as bad, craved him as much as he craved you. He’s the one for you, you just had to open your eyes and see that.
Gojo knows you feel at least a slight bit of attraction towards him. Hell, you’d called him handsome so many times— even though it had been strictly platonic— that you have to had felt something.. right?
On his eighteenth birthday you were there with him, his friends and his sister. He’d even brought a girl, introducing her as his girlfriend to try for a reaction out of you. But you didn’t bat an eye, you were genuinely happy for him. It made his jaw clench, but he was reminded of why he loved you. You were so sweet and caring. A big smile on your face as you embraced him in a hug, giving him the present that you’d been so excited to get. It was something that he had wanted for a while. A part of you saw him and his sister as the siblings you’d never had.
He didn’t need your gift, of course. He had enough money to buy anything he wanted. But it being from you made it special.. so so very special. Especially since you had listened to him. And it was his turn to return the favor. The random expensive gifts never stopped, every time you came over for the next three years it seemed that there was always something wrapped and waiting for you. Somethings just never change, you thought to yourself, piecing together that the boy’s crush had never left.
Then his gifts started getting more and more.. well, whatever you’d consider those matching lace sets that were accompanied a little note that made you swallow hard. Followed up by short dresses and eventually fancy shoes and purses to match. Not to mention the collection of jewelry you’d gotten from him.
Then he was.. less subtle, sending small smirks and winks your way. Finding any excuse just to be next to you or let his hands innocently wander during a hug.
You were not going to tell his sister. You didn’t want there to be any problems between them. You also couldn’t just start coming over less, she was like family to you. So you let his harmless crush continue.
…
Gojo swears luck was on his side, the universe wanting to make things easier for him. You had a boyfriend, a guy you worked with who was a good five years older than you. Like he said, you had a type, and he checked out none of these boxes. He knew everything about the dude, and he knew that he was not good enough for you. He tried to warn you, but what did you do? You smiled at what you took as him being worried about your well being.
So when you came knocking on his front door, flinging yourself into his sister’s arms as you cried into her shoulder. He knew. That asshole had broken your heart. He’d deal with it. He’d truly make the guy regret hurting you.
You were at his house all week, falling into the stage of the break up where you sat in your room (with their house so big you were bound to have one if your own) watching tv with a tub of ice cream and a string of adorable laughter. Anything to take your mind off the sting in your chest.
Then you were out. Everywhere. Going to clubs and parties with his sister just as you two did when you were a little younger. It was reckless, what if you got hurt? What is someone tried something? You were a sight for sore eyes after all. He would make sure to never let that happen. It was why he always accompanied you, whether you were aware of it or not. It was no surprise that you were never able to get laid, despite all the ogling eyes set on you.
…
Gojo leaned against the bathroom’s door frame as you emptied your stomach’s contents into the toilet in front of you. Small moans of displeasure filling the room as your body slumped against it. After math of a night full of drinking.
His arms were folded across his chest, muscles bulging through the tight black fabric which was paired with grey sweats which hung lowly on his hips. Gojo chuckled, pushing himself to stand straight before walking over to you. Stooping down to your current height with the shake of his head. “You should know better than this baby.”
Your brows furrowed, opening your mouth to question him before your head was over the bowl once more. Tears welling in your eyes at the massive headache that had sprung to life. “Shh shh shh baby.” He whispered, “let it all out, you’ll feel better soon.” He soothed, pushing stray strands away from your sweaty forehead while stroking softly at your hair. Whispering little words of encouragement as he held you, smiling sadly when the hug caused you to break down in his arms. No doubt reminding you of your recent breakup.
“Here, i brought you some panadol.” He reached for the two pills and the cup of water on the counter. Letting you sit with your back against his chest as he guided them up to your mouth, bringing the cup to your lips right after. “Here, drink it all okay?” You nodded, swallowing down the water along with the pain relievers. Gojo’s lips pressing softly to your head as he continued to stroke your skin.
You’d fallen asleep. And he’d laid you down on his bed instead of yours. Tucking you in and leaving you to rest.
Downstairs he found his sister, an empty cup sat in front of her along with the pill bottle. She’d clearly been hungover too. “Where is she?”
Gojo gave her a knowing look. “She’s sleeping.”
“Where?”
“My room.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing, not liking the way she was watching him. Was she really that selfish over her best friend.
“Satoru.. she’s twenty seven. You need to get over this stupid little crush of yours and go find someone your own age. She doesn’t want you, she never will.”
Gojo seethed, fists already at his side as he stared angrily at his sister. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Satoru come on-“
“No.” His voice was firm, he didn’t look angry anymore, he looked hurt. “Just.. shut up, please.” A part of him knew that maybe he’d just never be enough for you.
…
Making his way back upstairs Gojo had a plate of pancakes, bacon and eggs along with a glass of hot tea. He walked into his room to find your eyes only just fluttering open with the small stretch of your body. Blinking your eyes to adjust to the bright light while taking in your surroundings, realizing immediately where you were, and who was standing at the door.
“Oh.. Satoru, hi.” Your voice was timid, embarrassed to have been seen in your drunken state by the boy.
“Hey, how’s your head? I brought you breakfast.” He set the food down near the bed before taking a seat next to you. Allowing his fingers to play with the fallen hair from your bun.
“T-thanks.” You nodded, shifting to sit up before grabbing a strip of the crispy meat.
He wouldn’t stop staring at you, couldn’t stop staring at you. And you smiled in his direction, “thanks a lot, i should really get back to my room though.”
He shrugged, “or you could just stay, it’s not like we’re doing anything.” He grinned. “Yet.”
You couldn’t help the way your cheeks heated up at that statement. “It’s okay, i think i’ll just-“
“Stay. Come on, don’t be like that. I’ll even put on your favorite.” Reaching for the remote to search for your favorite show. You bit your lip nervously, not understanding how he could act so normal after all the inappropriate gifts and advances.
His smile never faltered as his hand ‘accidentally’ found yours, slipping his fingers into your own. Not allowing you to let go even if you tried.
…
The next few days were.. good. Gojo had assumed that everything was going well. They were going well, until you decided to ruin everything.
Toji Fushiguro.
A forty something year old man with two children. That’s who you were talking to. Gojo didn’t appreciate how hard you making things for him. You were supposed to be his and he was supposed to be yours.
He was tired of waiting for you to come to him, so he went to you. Knocking on your door with vigor and a small scowl. When the door swung open you were mid-laugh, Toji coming into view behind you with a glass of champagne in hand.
“Seriously? You’ve been ignoring us for him? Him?” Gojo accused pointedly, “My sister misses you, she’s been crying. A lot. Says you’re choosing a guy over your friendship.”
His jaw was hard as he fed you lies through his teeth. Watching your eyes widen as you pondered. Were you ignoring your best friend? You’d seen her just earlier today. You guys had hung out, gone for lunch. Talked about who you both liked with big smiles and non stop giggles. It didn’t feel like anything had changed. “I.. I didn’t realize- i’m sorry.” You didn’t know what to say, it made zero sense. But why would he lie?
Gojo silently cheered as you sadly asked Toji to leave. Giving him a small kiss on the cheek and promising to call him tomorrow. He was not very happy about the last part, but at least he was alone with you.
As soon as he left Gojo marched into your apartment. Nearly falling over his two feet when the scent hit him. Your scent, stronger than ever, that sweet strawberry smell that he’d grown to love.
“Satoru, i didn’t-”
He couldn’t help himself, he really couldn’t. “It’s okay I forgive you.” Turning around for his hand to snake to the back of your neck, heart rate speeding up as he crashed his lips onto yours.
You whimpered in surprise, Gojo controlling the kiss as he backed you up against a wall. His lips quickly traveling down to your neck in desperation. “You know, i’ve waited so long. So fucking long. Waited for you. For us. I’ve given you everything, i’ve done everything. But it’s just never enough is it? You’re just too ungrateful huh baby?”
You moaned loudly. “Satoru.. what are you.. hmm.”
“I’m taking what’s mine baby. Taking what i deserve. I’m not a little boy anymore. I’m a man. I can take care of you.” His lips moved with force, sucking harshly at your skin as he kissed down your chest, free hand roaming to your ass with a squeeze. “I’m old enough to be yours. This isn’t just some crush anymore. I fucking love you.”
You could feel your heart pounding as he uttered the words you wished he hadn’t. “Satoru we can’t.. your sister’s my best friend. I’m still older than you.”
“She’ll get over it.” He breathed, making quick work of your tank top that clung deliciously to your tits. “We’re both consenting adults now aren’t we. If you tell me to stop, i’ll stop.”
Your mouth went dry, lips parting to demand him to go but you couldn’t. You didn’t want him too. What was wrong with you?
“So what will it be baby? Stop? Or don’t stop?”
“Don’t stop..” You mumbled in shame, avoiding his eyes as you looked away. Gojo’s fingers dug into your cheeks, forcing you to turn back to face him.
“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”
“I said, don’t stop.” You said a little louder, cheeks burning up under his touch.
“Good girl. I knew you were playing hard to get.” He grinned, “You love the chase as much as i do.”
Gojo’s arms hooked under your thighs, lifting you onto him before reattaching your lips. Carrying you to your bedroom to drop you onto the sheets. Lips never leaving yours as you both hurriedly undressed. He was addicted to you, and having you set fire to his veins. This was all he’d ever wanted.
Gojo dropped to his knees before you, kissing lightly at your pussy before enclosing it with his mouth. Tongue lapping you up hungrily as you moaned, fingers finding his hair with a tremble.
“Satoru— feels so good, haah.” You breathed, Gojo burying his face between your legs with a tight grip on your thighs. Allowing your legs to wrap around his neck as he devoured your sopping heat. You were so sweet— just like everything else about you. And he couldn’t help but rut against nothing as more blood rushed to his cock. Finding pleasure in getting to taste you after years of jerking off to the image.
He’s seen your room more than you, always snatching a pair of anything he could find. Just to be able to hold you in any way or form. Feel you on his skin. Touch something that had already touched you.
Gojo pulled away with his face glistening, “Learned how to do this just for you baby. Wanted to be good for our first time.” He smiled lazily, eyes dark with need as he got back to work, sending muffled groans into your bundle of nerves while you mewled loudly. Back arching with the curl of your toes before trying to pull away.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Gojo growled lowly, fingers digging painlessly into your flesh as he pulled you impossibly closer, tongue flicking at your clit before his lips closed around it. Sucking and swirling the sensitive bud into his mouth with a satisfied hum. All while you cried out above him, moans getting louder each time you called out his name.
It was like music. The sweetest song ever. Hearing you moan for him, moan out of pleasure, need, lust. Knowing that it was him making you feel so good. He almost came right there, determined to give you the best orgasm of your life with just his tongue. You tugged at his strands, your vision blurred in the nearing of your high.
“Satoru— o-oh fuck Satoru, ‘m gonna cum. Nngh, you’re gonna make me cum.” You moaned noisily, lewd slurps and sloppily kisses filling your ears as he made out with your wet pussy.
Gojo loved how much you were squirming, your legs tightening around his neck as you screamed. You actually screamed. He made you scream. His tongue was awaiting when you began to shake, toes curled and eyes rolled back as you squirted nonstop. The clear liquid gushing onto his face and tongue in long streams.
You whined at the overstimulation when he licked a stripe up your pussy. Collecting every last bit of your sweetness before standing up. You were panting, hard. And Gojo felt accomplished as he smirked. “Has any older man ever made you cum this hard baby?”
Your head was dizzy, trying to bring yourself back down to earth as you blinked up at him with the shake of your head.
He scoffed in pride, “Now try telling me that i’m too young for you now.”
Gojo was quick to lay you flat on the bed and crawl in on top of you. Consequences of your latest activities still fresh on his chin and chest. There were so many positions he wanted to take you in, but first he wanted to see you fall apart under him. See your face contort into one of pure bliss when he started pounding into you.
“You ready for me?” He husked, impressive cock already swiping up and down your slick filled folds. You nodded, looking up at him through your lashes with parted lips. “Ready.”
You both shared a drawn out moan when he nestled his cock past your tight entrance. Feeling him graze your gummy walls before reaching deep within you.
You felt so good, so tight.. warm. And he felt so deep, so big.. perfect.
“This pussy was made for me.” He grunted with a loud groan, slowly speeding up his pace till he was fucking into you with no end. Hips snapping into yours as his cock kissed your spot, prodding at your cervix with every hard thrust. “Fuck- look at how well you’re taking me. Fucking swallowing me all the way in.”
You only moaned in response, teary eyes meeting his sinful ones as he molded you around his cock. Making sure that you knew nothing but the shape of him, the feel of him, when you were done.
Letting out the whiniest cry, your arms reached up around his shoulders, clawing at his skin when you felt your stomach tighten.
You could feel him so deep, the roll of his hips allowing his fat tip to curl up and kiss exactly where you needed it most. The fast pace pulling short screams past your swollen lips.
“Satoru— haah, you’re so deep. I love it s’ much Toru. So m-much— ahh.” You couldn’t think straight, your brain only registering the way he was sliding in and out of you. It was all you could think about in that moment l, the way he felt.
Gojo watched you fall apart, just like he wanted. Your glossy eyes closing as your head fell further into the pillow, unable to control your noises as you got closer and closer.
“You don’t know how hot you look right now. I love seeing you like this. All for me.” His voice cracked, cock twitching in an aching cry to get its release.
“S-satoru, ‘m so close. Gonna cum again.” You choked out, nails piercing into his broad back as your hands roamed down.
“Yeah? Gonna make a mess f’ me again hmm? All that denying me, making me feel like our love was one sided. You put me through a lot you know.” He shook his head. “If only you knew the lengths i’d go for you.”
His eyes were crazed, and a shiver raked through your body at his words, whimpering as you succumbed to the building pleasure with a mewl. “O-oh fuckk.”
“Nuh uh, baby. Apologize to me first then you cum.” His tone was firm, serious. He wanted to hear you say it.
“Ahh, ‘m sorry Satoru— ‘m so so sorry. You’re goid enough f’ me. Mature enough. You’re perfect. Please let me cum. I need to cum.” You cried, the man on top of you pretending to ponder your words which went straight to his cock before smiling darkly. “Go ahead baby, cum for me.”
Your body shook as you yelled out his name, your surroundings becoming blank when you began to squirt messily, again. The intense orgasm seeming to stun all of your body’s systems as you failed to come back down. Gojo’s continued thrusts keeping pleasure flowing through your sensitive body.
“I love you so much baby. I always did. It makes me so happy that we can finally be together. Fuckk— ‘m all yours. All yours.” He buried his face in your neck, his own eyes closing shut as his body trembled, stilling inside your warmth before you felt his cum pumping into you in spurts. The thick substance coating your every wall in white.
“And now you’re mine.” He didn’t pull out, staying buried inside you in hopes of you two being connected forever. There was one thing he knew and you forgot. You hadn’t taken your birth control in a while, and a part of him hoped that you had seen this coming. That you wanted it. But one thing remained true either way, he was never letting you go.
#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader smut#satoru gojo
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DCxDP fanfic idea: Big Fish in Gotham Pond
Based off of @saphushia art found here. . I just loved the idea of Tucker not knowing his skill level because he grew up in the boonies
Tucker gets scouted by Wayne Enterprises after he fixes a kid's computer game while in Gotham visiting Danny.
See, Tucker always known he is passable at tech- one has to be when a technology theme ghost is consistently harassing one's best friend- but to be good at something in a small town like Amity Park didn't mean much .
It's a big fish in a small pound sort of deal. That's why he's never put much thought into it. If Tucker were ever to rank himself in terms of school grades, he would say his computer skills were about a C-.
B+ if it was just coding.
His parents also don't think much of his obsession with his PDA or phones. They thought he waste too many hours on them like the rest of his generation.
It didn't matter that Tucker's technology was about five or more years behind his classmates.
The Foley were hard-working people who barely scraped enough for bills. They were never below the property line, but they danced on it often enough that Tucker knew never to ask for unnecessary purchases.
For as long as he could remember, his parents have always worked long and hard hours. He never blamed them for missing so much of his childhood, in fact he was grateful that they worked so hard to keep the roof over his head, but he did miss them.
That's why Danny's house became a haven for him. He was always at the Fenton's place because the loud, wacky family was much better company than the home silence.
Tucker knew that his family's financial situation didn't change how Danny or Sam viewed him. They had his back through tick and thin just as he did for them, but as they got closer to graduation the difference between them became jarring.
Sam had easy picking of what she wanted to do and where she wanted to go. Her parents were so overjoyed that she wanted to go to a university that they didn't even argue about her wishing to major in botanical biochemistry.
She had started house hunting in Star City midway through senior year. Her parents would gift it to her as a graduation present. Sam would live there for the next eight years to finish her degree.
Danny's parents, while somewhat eccentric, were also certified geniuses. Between the two of them, they had five PHDs and were often freelancing for companies when not doing ghost research. They too could send their two kids to college States away with housing not being a issue.
Jazz went to Metropolis to study Physiology. She lived in a small apartment but was doing well off her scholarships and parent's funding. Last he heard, she had a part-time job at the Daily Planet as a research assistant to gain some independence.
Danny wanted to go to Gotham for their engineering program. He, too, had an apartment of his own, with scholarships and equal funding from his parents. He also worked at Wayne Enterprises, but he was a receptionist. He hoped that once he graduated, he could apply for their engineering program
Not Tucker. His family could only help him get into Community College near Amity. He also couldn't afford to move out so he stayed with them, picking up a part time job to help out when he could.
Tucker is a first-generation college student so even though it wasn't much, he loved to see how his parents glowed when telling others their boy was futhering his education. He wanted to do something that paid well- and after years of patching up Danny- he figured nursing would do the trick.
Tucker would do all his basics in the community College, take a break to save up some money and then move on to the bigger schools.
The day of the graduation felt bittersweet. Team Phantom was finally adults, finally starting out in the real world, but while Danny and Sam moved on to bigger and better things, Tucker knew he would be left behind in little no-where Amity Park.
He never brought it up, but he felt a small dosage of envy the last day of summer before his friends finished packing and left.
Despite both being gone, Tucker had little to no social life even though they called, texted, and emailed often. His days blurred between class, work, and home. Even then, classes were long and tedious, work often ending with one or more customers screaming in his face to try and get free food.
His parents quickly started to nag that he should find a wife as they had married young. They couldn't figure out why he didn't want the same, even though he had no social life again.
Life became dull.
Tucker's only sparks of joy were playing online with Danny and Sam - when they found the time to log in or re-coding his old tech to try and salvage it whenever it broke down.
Soon, it became apparent that Tucker was slowly lacking motivation when he started skipping classes to sleep in and started feeling anxious when he needed to clock in for shifts.
It leads to him barely getting out of bed.
He felt horrible about it, thinking his parents sacrificed so much for him only to have him throw away the opportunities they gave him, and the cycle of not being able to get out of bed would start all over again.
It was Danny who caught on, and all but begged Tucker to come to Gotham for a weekend. He even sent money over for the plane ticket.
Tucker couldn't have gotten on that plane fast enough. He arrived early on Friday since the tickets were cheaper- and Uber over to WE headquarters to pick up Danny's keys as they agreed.
That way, Tucker could sleep and rest in the apartment while Danny worked.
Danny would finish his shift and have the weekend plus Monday and Tuesday off to spend with Tucker. When he arrived, Danny was helping a school check in for a field trip, so Tucker sat down to wait.
Next to him, a kid was growling at his laptop, frankly typing and moving his fingers over the computer's touch mouse. Tucker accidentally glimpsed his screen when the kid started swearing in a different language.
It looked like a shooting game but his lag was bad. By the time the boy pressed the buttons to have his little drone move the other flying things he was chasing were flipping though the air and out of his shooting rage.
It sucked when that happened, and since he was using WE free wifi for guests, it was probably the game. The graphics were badass, though. Seemed almost real.
"Hey try updating the system" He tells the kid after seeing the boy once again lag so bad he missed his shot.
Green eyes swing to him drenched in rage. Which yeah, Tucker knows how frustrating that could be.
"Did I ask for your help!?" The boy snaps, his words lined with an upper-class accent. Made sense since he was wearing a Gotham Academy uniform like the rest of the large school group. "Why are you even looking this way, peasant?"
"No, sorry. I just noticed the lag." Tucker raised his hand, slightly amused at the peasant insult. "I thought I could fix it for you."
The boy's face spams, "You believe you have the ability?"
"Ugh sure? I can try?"
"Here. Be quick. The fate of this city's air defenses depend on it" the boy turns his lap top to him and Tucker blinks.
Okay. So fix the game. He can do that.
And he does, quickly opening the code, analyzing the control and commands , he gets it running properly in less then twenty minutes. The boy seems utterly shock but he quickly takes control of the game and shoots down all the escaping ninjas from the sky.
"Thank you." The boy says with no more tense in his shoulders. Then he closes his laptop and dissappears with the crowd of students.
Tucker thought the kid was a cute.
Danny hands him the keys not long after and he leaves.
Never was he aware of the Boy being Damian Wayne and that the game was not a game but a actual defensive drone system that was fighting off the League of Assassins.
He only finds out how important those two facts are when Danny gets a call from Tim Drake asking if he could pass along Tucker's information because the CEO wanted him on staff as soon as possible..
Both nineteen-year-olds lost their minds after getting the call, screaming at each other in ghost shrieks of glee. They called Sam to let her know- and have her lawyers look over the contact Tim Drake sent just to make sure it wasn't a big-time company trying to screw him over.
He went to an interview three days later. He faced Tim Drake, the current seventeen-year-old CEO, Leo Noir, the current head of HR, and Jessica War, the current head of computer services. They asked him many questions about himself- some of which he felt he had answered terribly- then had him take a computer test.
Tucker thought it was busy work, so he quickly breezed through it. He fixed the problem in many of the coding for various programs, adding his flare to the final product, and after thanking them for their time, went out into the lobby.
He hadn't even reached the door before Jesssica ran after him, offering him the job. Apparently, the first two problems they had him do was the busy work. Tucker had thought they were the ones to let him get comfortable with the coding program.
Like a tutorial in video games.
The other seven were actual issues; many of their latest cellphone products failed. Tucker had solved them in an hour, which had taken the actual team of coders about a month.
"Nitey one dollar and thirty-five cents an hour," Tim tells him tapping the hiring contact. "It would be eighty hours every paycheck. You can work here or at home. Full Benefits. What do you say?"
Tucker's jaw drops. "When do I start!?"
He calls his parents to tell them he will be staying in Gotham with Danny. He tries to explain what had happened but it was all so fast that he can only babble about certain parts.
They tell him not to worry about explaining because they understand how much this means to him.
His parents help pack everything for him and when he flies back for it they, offer him hugs and support. Tucker is so glad they aren't mad.
"I sort of knew it was coming," His dad laughs. "You and that Fenton boy have always been inseparable."
"I did the same thing, you know," His mom says, wiping tears from her eyes but smiling all the same. "I moved with your father states away with little to no plan when I turned twenty too. Drove your grandfather mad."
He loves them both so much. He promises to send money- disregarding their denials- and flies back to Gotham, where Danny has opened his apartment until he gets enough for his own place.
He plans on renting a house with three bedrooms, one for him, one for his office, and another for Danny, as soon as he can. He wants to pay his friend back for everything he did and Danny deserves a bigger living space.
And for once, he'll not have to worry about money!
For once, life is looking up!
(What Tucker is unaware of, is that his parents think he moved to the big city to be with his childhood best friend turned recent lover. They don't know that the money he is sending home is from his own payroll and not Danny's. They think he's a stay-at-home husband.
Tucker is also unaware that the Bats are closely watching him in case he goes rogue. They have been slowly "causally" running into him in the city and breaking into his place to check for supervillain activity.)
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#Big Fish in Gotham Pond au#Tucker is unaware of his skills#The Bat's are keeping a eye on him#His parents think he dropped out to be gay in Gotham'#Danny is happy for his best friend#Sam is laughing silly in Star City#Tucker in his main character era#Is Danny in love with him? Who knows
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Older! Boyfriend Toji Headcanons
MDNI! (Slightly) EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD!
Soft headcanons:
Older! Toji, who adores the huge size difference between the two of you. He loves how you tilt your head back to look at him or stand on your tippy toes, pushing on his shoulders, just to kiss his cheek.
Older! Toji, who has a ton of money (shout out to broke ass Toji, though 😔). You have no idea what he does for a living. You're pretty sure it isn't something totally legal, like accounting, but whatever. He doesn't mention it and you don't ask. His favorite thing to do is turn you spoiled rotten. He constantly takes you on shopping trips, although his attitude is astronomical, only letting himself smirk when you thank him for buying you a cute little sundress.
"That one's real cute, baby."
"Yeah, bub, that color is really nice."
"Just buy 'em both, I'll take you somewhere nice to show them off."
He can barley constrain himself from pinning you against the dressing room wall and pushing the faint yellow fabric of the dress away from your skin, tasting you through your little lace panties.
Older! Toji whose love language is quality time and physical touch. No matter what he's doing, he needs to have you next to him. He never thought he'd fall so hard for someone, yet here we are...
"Toji, baby please, I'm trying to cook dinner." Toji only tightens his grip around your waist.
"I know, pretty. Just want to feel you." He responded, hooking his chin over your shoulder, peering at the vegetable you were currently mutilating.
"That's definitely not how you cut garlic." You feel him turn his head, smirking into your neck.
"Shut up."
Older! Toji, who would never, EVER let you drive him anywhere. You're forever stuck as a passenger princess. Hell would have to freeze over before Toji would let you be responsible for transporting him somewhere. This includes the time he accidentally shot himself in the upper thigh (long story 🙄) and REFUSED to let you drive to the hospital. You belong in the passenger seat, and his big hand belongs rested on your thigh, gently squeezing the squishy flesh from time to time.
Older! Toji, who pays for your bi-weekly manicures.
"What about these?" You tilt your phone screen towards him, showing him the set of acrylics you saved to your pinterest board earlier that week.
"Hmm, very nice." He flashed you a small smile of approval before grabbing your hand, kissing each knuckle.
They'd look so small and delicate wrapped around his dick.
Older! Toji whose most embarrassing secret is his love-hate relationship with the Kardashians. At first it was baffling... he doesn't even look like he'd know who they are. However, this man is INVESTED. You heard it here first. He lives for the pettiness of it all.
"What the fuck is Khloé's problem now?"
Toji strolls into the living room where you're perched on the couch, eyes glued to the new episode of 'The Kardashians'. He huffs, plopping down next to you.
"She always acts like she's some mediator for Kim and Kourtney, but she's an instigator. Always whining and complaining about something." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. You laugh, humming in agreement.
His favorite thing to rag on them about is their baby names.
"North West? That's a fucking direction."
Older! Toji, who holds you at night. Feeling your chest rise and fall rhythmically with his is the most comforting feeling in the world. He never falls asleep before you, finding peace only when you've found yours. He only becomes sappy after midnight, the loneliness of a quiet bedroom forcing him to face his emotions. Once he's positive you're passed out for the night, he moves his hand from your upper back to your head, gently stroking back stray strands of hair that were previously covering your precious face.
"You looked so beautiful today. I need to tell you that more." He whispered.
"I'm so lucky to have such a sweet girl all to myself."
"I love you so much. More than anything."
Older! Toji, who sees you as his entire world. Scratch that, his entire universe.
Hope you enjoyed! xoxo
#fem reader#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#jjk toji#toji smut#jjk x reader#jjk#Spotify#size difference#age difference
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lots of scent talk? fingering; foursome; MDNI 18+
w/ ART DONALDSON & PATRICK ZWEIG & TASHI DUNCAN
the hotel room is victim to a stiff heat unlike anything you've ever felt before. you've been privy to the heat that comes with matches in the south, and you're well aware of what happens when the AC decides to break in the tiny hotel rooms they've put you in.
but this heat is different. it's uncomfortable, yes, but that makes you want it more. it has a stench, strong to the point where it's loud. it blares in your face, almost taking your attention off of them. almost.
you're surrounded by their bodies, the heat of the room radiating off of them. there's a different heat to all of them. unique in ways that will implement itself into your mind to be called on later.
art has a cleanliness to him. he's warm, burning up when you touch his face, ears, and neck. but he's sturdy. he's desperate, pulling your leg over his hip as he grinds his crotch into yours. his boner presses into you almost awkwardly. it's maneuvered by art's hips, and eventually, it lays flat against you through his gingham boxers after some effort. you have your legs spread as far as they can go, welcoming the heat of art's dick against the taunt crotch of your panties. when he's not kissing you, he's breathing into you. this is supposed to be foreplay, but art's getting off to it. his forehead rests against yours and his nose is slotted right up against yours as he breathes onto you. he breathes with you. he breathes into you, releasing air into your awaiting mouth.
every so often, he'll stick his tongue out and probe it into your mouth, maybe swipe it along your bottom lip. eventually, you catch his tongue with your lips, puckering them around the muscle until you have a good enough grip to suck. your head even starts bobbing as if you're sucking him off. and this gets art. he grinds into you with more fervor. he groans low in the back of his throat in the way that he does when you've helped him roll out a particularly tense part of his body.
you have to slow him down from cumming too soon by bringing your bent leg up between you both, nudging your knee cap into his chest. one of his big hands pushes your leg out from between you both, and then he goes in. he doesn't wait, he doesn't hesitate, and it's only through the jesting coming from beside you that he stops. you take your lips from around his tongue and he keeps the muscle there for a second, suspended in air, before he licks his lips and finally closes his mouth.
and then comes the heat from patrick. this heat is similar to the one in the hotel room, likely the largest contributor. stiff, a strong stench. he's musky in the way that says he isn't completely well groomed, but it works for him. his musk is one of money. you can smell it on him—the hints of cologne still not washed off, the smell of fabric softener you likely cannot and will not get in the aisles of a regular grocery store, the waft of hair products that smell just clean enough. it all works to barely mask the musk from his skin, the smell of sweat working against deodorant and everything else included.
patrick kisses at your neck first, burying his nose behind your ear as his hand slides over your collarbones and latches onto the other side of your neck. he pulls you closer to him. he grips the side of your neck, digging his fingertips into the flesh, bringing his thumb around front and clutching. he holds you and you like it. your back arches and you don't have to be told to turn your head, but patrick directs you anyway.
his hand is warm when it slides up to your cheek. he sandwiches your face, pressing four of his fingers into one cheek and his thumb into the other. he pulls you towards him, bringing you to the heat of his mouth. there isn't any hesitance before he has his tongue pressing against yours, your tongues sliding together from the tips to as far back as you can reach.
there comes a moment where patrick, likely driven by his need to be as close to you as possible, nudges his tongue a little too far back. he slides it along the top of your mouth, running it along the ridges, and then he presses into the back of your tongue, almost triggering your gag reflex. you jerk as if he had and try to move back, but patrick holds you still. he eases up a bit, ceasing his almost never ending addition of saliva onto your mouth.
art has stilled a bit between your legs, but he's still fidgety. he has his fingers tapping against your knees and eventually, without much warning at all, they stop. your eyes are closed, lost in bliss of patrick giving you yet another prideful mark, but you open them to the sound of kissing. you see tashi attached to art. she has her hands on his face, pulling him away from you. he leaves the space between your legs empty as he crawls over to tashi, his head tilted up as he rests upon her altar.
you don't know how long they're there. you're too busy sitting in the fever settling over your body while trying your best to reciprocate patrick's lips over yours while his fingers pump in and out of you. but soon there's another pair of fingers gliding down your cunt, running around patrick's two thick fingers down to where you're gushing out arousal. it's tashi, kneeling between your legs. over patrick's head, you see art sitting off to the side, his feet tucked under his butt and his hands rubbing up and down his legs almost as if he's nervously waiting for something.
you can't attempt to decipher his intentions when tashi nudges patrick's wrist to the side, turning his fingers inside of you to a new angle that has you gasping. patrick shushes you quickly, kissing into the center pit of your neck.
tashi's heat is sweet. it's comforting and familiar. she places her fingers onto your clit, rubbing your own arousal around your pert bud. she settles in between your thighs, running her tongue along your inner thigh. you can't smell her until a gust of wind pushes through the open window, and she smells like perfumes and body oils and lotions. they are either all the same, or they just compliment each other well enough. she smells like a kiosk in the mall, but less over powering. she smells gentle, like warm flowers. the heat of her lips against your inner thighs is nice. it's heavy, but less imposing than the heat of curiosity from patrick on your neck. less intense than the heat of primal desire you felt from art.
she's gentle, the reprieve you need from the intense way patrick shoves his fingers into you and the satisfaction you desired from when art had clumsily knocked his hips into yours. she's slower on your clit, helping your orgasm build up as patrick digs and searches for the spot that she can find easily.
"it's to the left," she tells him, and just like that, patrick finds the spot. your hand wraps around patrick's wrist, your nails digging into his skin.
tashi looks up at you, her smile small but very much there. it's visible and familiar, the same smile you saw her wear whenever patrick and art pushed their lips together for the first time without any inhibitions. it's knowing.
she knows that despite the stiff heat circulating through the room, and the individual heat coming from each of you only making it worse, this is part of your dream. your deepest darkest desire that you only admitted to her no more than 48 hours ago whenever you first laid eyes on fire and ice as they'd been dubbed.
she jerks her head to her right just a bit, enough to signal something to you. your eyes turn and you see art, still sitting in the same spot but with his cock pulled out. he's slowly tracing his thumb over the tip, spreading what looks to be a sizable drop of precum over his head. when you find tashi again, she lifts her thick eyebrows once and you know that look. she's asking you if you want a taste.
she leans up, occupying the space previously taken by art. her smile widens when her eyes meet yours. you can feel it hovering over your lips when she brings her head down. instinctively, your head tilts up as you wait for her to knock your lips together. she doesn't do it immediately and you feel pathetic as you wait. you feel like art.
"yeah?" she asks, her lips moving closer and closer to yours.
"yeah," you confirm. and finally, she presses her lips to yours.
#patricksworld!#artsworld!#tashisworld!#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig x reader#tashi duncan x reader#celeste writes challengers
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Cold nights, red Flannel
Joel Miller X Afab!Fem!Reader
Summary: when the power goes out in your building Joel is more than happy to let you have his bed, but when his already sore back flares up in the middle of the night he’s given no choice but to share with you. Things play out differently than expected when he wakes up in the morning tangled up with you in between the sheets.
Warnings: SMUT (MDI) 18+ only, slow burn, dead child, dead people and the fire pit, cussing, age gap (reader is in their thirties), alcohol, Joel gets a ✨massage✨ thigh riding, teasing Joel, Dom!Joel, fingering, multiple orgasms, over stimulation, Joel is… big, slight breeding kink, raw p in v (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk.
Joel Miller Master List
Word Count: you’ve read my other stories right? This is long, buckle up butter cup.
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The worst jobs earn the most money, it was something you were quick to pick up on, and if you wanted to live the best, you had to do the worst.
The burn pit was busier than usual, truck after truck with what seemed like no end in sight. Everything from your hands to your feet ached, clothes covered in the grey ash irritating your lungs, and the smell was unforgiving. You’ve already added your second bandanna, the lack of clean air nearly suffocating.
“You’re slowin’ down.” The man beside you notes, Texan accent laces his words as he crosses his arms over his chest, voice gruff from being here as long as you have.
“Coming from the man who has taken a water break every thirty minutes.” You snip back, lighthearted in your accusation, looking over to find your ‘coworker’, Joel Miller, tilting his head, brown eyes glaring under salt and pepper eyebrows. He points to the truck behind you, silently telling you to get moving.
You smile even though he can’t see it and turn on your heel, heading for the last body, but your cheeky attitude slips away. You swallow thickly, eyes scanning over the hooded and bound body. They are small in stature, an old cartoon character printed on the back of their white, clean shirt. They look so out of place on the blood and mud stained truck bed.
Only a child.
Joel is quick to notice your sudden hesitation, his own small smile falling as he follows your gaze.
“I’ll get ‘em.”
“No, it’s fine.” You stomp down your emotions, scooping the kid up, to light and frail, and walk them over to the fire. You whisper a prayer, like you’ve done with every child before and toss him over the wall. Soot blows up into the air, orange and red embers dancing among the cloud and you’re forced to pry your gaze away as the flame swallows their body.
“Last one!” A driver yells, the screeching of the reverse alarm cutting through the air. Relief washes over you, closing your eyes momentarily, the day was almost done.
“Son of a bitch.” You turn then, Joel’s looking at the truck in disbelief and when your attention lands on the man in the bed your jaw physically drops open.
The man before you is a literal beast, his height alone impressive but the muscle on him makes you thankful you never ran into him when he was alive.
Had to of been some kind of enforcer.
“Hey, yo, can we like get a horse or something? This guys fucking huge!” You call out to the truck driver who only sneers before disappearing back into the cab.
“It’s fine, I’ve got it.” Joel shushes you, steeping up and dragging the guy by his thighs closer to the edge of the bed, huffing and grunting looking for the best leverage point.
You laugh slightly, steeping back. “Sure, whatever you say cowboy, he’s all yours.” You cross your arms, excited to see how this pans out as Joel tries to position the hulk. To your surprise he’s able to lift the guy onto his shoulder with a strained groan. “Oooo okay, you’ve been working out.” You let out a sharp whistle, his eyes glancing to yours as he stumbles for the fire, giving you a playful wink.
The banter is cut short with his next step though when he cries out in pain, nearly crumbling under the weight as something in his back spasms. You rush forward, grabbing onto the body, helping carry him the rest of the way and over the wall.
“Fuck!” Joel barks, face pinched as he hunches over, hand pressing into his back.
“What happened?”
“My back… I’m fine. “ He grits out between clenched teeth, sucking in a few breaths before trying to straighten up.
Someone blows a whistle, signaling the end of the day and people start to rush past you both for the pay out line, ignoring Joel’s insistent cussing.
You offer your shoulder for him to lean on but he waves away your concern, telling you he just needs a minute to collect himself before you both make your way to get your ration cards.
Instead of signing up for another shift you decide to give yourself the next two days off, hoping to sleep as much as you can before hitting the next work period hard. You walk off to the side, waiting patiently for Joel out of habit as he goes down the list, rubbing at his spine.
Being this far from the fire you realize how cold it is, the setting sun the only indication that it’s about to get colder, and you know spring is still a few months away.
You glance to Joel as he haggles with the enforcer, probably over the shortened pay. Over the last five years you and Joel have worked together on numerous jobs, and he’s never shy to insist the right pay for the services you both provide. Though at first never coordinated, you both realized how effortlessly you worked with the other, always fast and to the point with whatever resources given, both searching for the most money.
You recall noticing him when you arrived at your first job at this QZ, his hair a little less grey back then but eyes just as intense. It wasn’t until your fifth job did you say something to him after catching him watching you for the first hour of your shift at the pit.
With whatever confidence you had, you’d walked right up to him, hands on your hips and chin tilted up with a sarcastic smile. “Does my stalker have a name?”
The notion had been so wildly outlandish that after he stared at you for a minute, mouth open and eyebrows raise, he barked out a laugh. A true belly laugh that had everyone turning their heads in shock and confusion.
It was the talk of the job.
Some new girl got the old grump to laugh.
From that moment on Joel decided to stick close by, your fiery attitude attracting him just as much as your smarts. He taught you how to play the system, which officers were more lenient than others, and when he grew to trust you he began taking you on contraband runs. You picked up on the trade quickly, surprising him when you started going out on your own and Joel knew he’d chosen well.
Joel now limps over, pulling you from your thoughts. “Ya know I have this stuff that can help with that.” You state, turning and walking with him towards your apartments.
“Got some icy hot, I’ll be fine.”
“20 year old icyhot? Yeah that most definitely will do the trick.” Your sarcasm isn’t lost on him as he glares done at you. You raise your hands in surrender, walking the rest of the way in silence as the street bustles with life around you.
Parting ways at your building you watch for a moment as Joel limps along, shaking his head back and forth, a clear sign he’s talking to himself. You snort, grabbing for the door handle only to have it ripped away, your next door neighbor nearly knocking into you as she storms from the building.
“Woah, Joanne, maybe next time you can just run me over and we will call it a day.” You snap, glaring as she turns at the sound of your voice, she’s the buildings ‘manager’, a lose term for someone who takes your money and doesn’t fix a damn thing unless it involves her apartment directly.
Not much has changed since the end of the world.
“The entire building is out! I’m trying to get someone to fix it!” Her wrinkled face is red with anger, greying hair disheveled like she’d been pulling at the roots all day.
“Wait what?”
She rolls her eyes, exasperation clipping her words. “There was construction going on next door and they clipped a line or something. No lights, no heat, no fucking water to the entire building.” She turns on her heel, not bothering for what you have to say next and stomps down the road.
You throw your hands up in frustration, groaning at the sky, mentally cursing whatever was out there when a thought comes to mind. You bite your lip, weighing out your options before you are rushing down the street in search of Joel.
Luck seems to finally be on your side as you round the street corner, finding him leaning against a light post, talking to a man you recognize but can’t place with a name.
Jogging over the shaggy haired man’s eyes flicker to you, his posture becoming rigid before he quickly dismissing himself. Joel turns, expecting an officer or worse, and his expression softens as you slow to a stop beside him. “Heya Sunshine.”
When Joel decided to take you in, he made it very clear to others that ran around in the same under ground circles that you were not to be fucked with, being one of the few in his inner circle gave you a type of immunity not so sparingly given out.
“Hey… shit… my power is out.”
“Did ya forget to pay?” He’s mocking you only slightly, concern still underlining his tone.
“No, it’s the whole building, Joanne said someone must have cut a wire or something… I was wondering if maybe… we’ll I’m still covered in all this…” You hesitate, hoping he will fill in the gap as you gesture to yourself but he only stares. Joel always made you use your words. “I was wondering if I could borrow your shower, I’ll be super quick, I swear.”
Joel nods, looking down the road towards his building. “Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem, give me about an hour to soak my back first and then you can come over.” You’re washed with relief, throwing your arms around his neck in a tight hug, catching him by surprise.
“Thank you, thank you so much!” Before he can reply you’re sprinting down the street and around the corner, he stares after you blinking slowly before looking around, a blush staining his cheeks.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Having only been to Joel's apartment a handful of times, it took you longer than you would of liked to admit to find his door, and there may have been the help of an elderly man along the way.
This time though, as the door opens, Joel is on the other side. His greying hair slicked back and still damp, he’s dressed in a long sleeve shirt with matching black sweats. “Well, don’t you clean up nice.” You make a point to look him over as you step into his apartment, breathing in the warm air.
Joel only snorts. “Yeah, sure. Bathrooms that way, should still be plenty of hot water, I rigged my heater a few months back.”
You smile at that, “What a naughty boy you are, Joel Miller.” You wink following his direction, closing yourself in the bathroom.
Joel leans against his front door for a moment, appreciating this side of you that is rare to see, as much back and forth as you two give each other at work you personality blossoms when it’s just you and him. And damn was it flirtatious. Some way or another you’ve kept a spark of life through the last 20 years that has Joel hooked like an addict, even if he could never bring himself to say so.
In the bathroom you’re pulling out your bath products, setting them next to his and the contrast of them makes you laugh a little. Pinks and purples next to dull grays and blues. You have the fleeting thought to look for something special just for Joel on your next run as you twist the shower nob. The pipes groan before sputtering to life, you wait until the waters just a little to hot before undressing and stepping in. You hiss involuntarily, skin blushing under the heat before you relax.
This was the hottest shower you’d had in years and you might just have to start lying about your power being out to get more of this. You allow yourself to relax for a moment longer before you begin to wash away the day.
*~*~*~*~*~*
You emerge thirty minutes later, steam following behind you, you’re dressed in your better winter clothes, but even that’s a stretch. Your sweater hangs on your frame, three sizes to big and moth eaten, your sweatpants in much the same condition.
Joel glances up at you from his rickety table, two mix match glasses and a bottle in front of him. “Is one of those for me?” He simply pours you a shot, sliding the glass across the table as you take your seat, curling your legs up under yourself. You lift the amber liquid in cheers, Joel mimicking your actions as you down the shot. It burns your taste buds, dropping into your stomach like a lead weight.
Coughing you turn the glass over, face scrunched in disgust making Joel laugh as he pours himself another. “Can’t handle your liquor?”
“Was never much of a drinker before all of this, haven’t acquired the taste just yet.” You manage to wheeze out, rubbing at your chest where it still burns. “Thank you again, it would have really sucked to of gone to bed still covered in that shit.”
Joel stands, chair scrapping across the floorboards. “Don’t mention it. Seriously. Don’t need the whole building knowing I’m giving out free showers.” He gathers the glasses and takes them to the small sink, before opening his fridge, “How do you plan on staying warm tonight?”
“Um, probably throw on a extra layer and pray I wake up with all my toes.” You drum a rhythm on the table, watching him as he pulls a container from the fridge, grabbing two forks and walking over to you.
You attentions stays on the container as he drags his chair closer, setting it on the table. Inside is beef and rice and your stomach grumbles at the sight of it. Your eyes jump to Joel and he give you a smile, handing you a fork. “Eat.”
You know not to look a gifted horse in the mouth, splitting the container down the middle and enjoying the cold food as much as you enjoy the comfortable silence.
Joel suddenly lifts his head, sniffing the air before turning his gaze on you, stopping you mid bite to stare back.
“What?”
“Do I smell… cookies?”
Your face lights up with a grin. “Oh yeah, I was baking in the bathroom.” He doesn’t look amused and it adds to your enjoyment. “Sugar cookies, specifically. You have your contraband, and I have mine.”
Contraband consisting of feminine products you’ve scored over the last few years, keeping nearly 70 other women fairly stocked and your pockets lined.
“Where ya hiding them? Under this?” He plucks at your shirt, distaste written across his face making you laugh, a sound Joel likes a little to much.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Miller.” You raise your eyebrows suggestively earning an eye-roll, his foot nudging your chair.
He slides you the rest of his food as he stands. “You can sleep here for tonight, I’ll take the couch.” He’s talking over his shoulder as he walks into his joined bedroom, leaving you to shovel the rest of the food into your mouth.
“Wait… your back, you should really sleep in your own bed Joel.” You can hear drawers opening and closing before a soft grunt of satisfaction as Joel finds whatever it is he is looking for. “I really don’t want to inconvenience you any further.”
“It ain’t an inconvenience, and my backs fine, the icy hot did the trick, just like I said it would.” He comes back into view carrying a very large red button down flannel, tossing to you. It’s thick, the fabric soft to the touch and smells clean with an underlying musk that’s unmistakably Joel. “That’ll keep you warm, a lot better than what you’ve got on now.”
“Really? Are you-.”
“Don’t argue with me. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to. Okay?”
A light blush tints your cheeks, glancing up at him through your lashes with a sweet smile that has his stomach tightening. “Thank you Joel.”
“You’re welcome.” He rejoins you at the table, watching you pick at a loose thread on the shirt.
Maybe it’s the fact you don’t know much about Joel, or maybe it’s the fact that this is the very first time you’ve been alone with him, no one else in the room, no traders. Curiosity sparks and it’s a hard flame to put out.
“Do you… are there things you miss about before?”
He glanced at you, your eyes still trained on the garment. “What do you mean?”
“Well like… I use to do kickboxing, I miss that a lot… I miss going on coffee dates with my girlfriends… things like that.” You shrug, refusing to meet his gaze incase he thought this was silly, ridiculous even. You were never good at small talk.
Joel is silent for a moment longer, biting at his lip. “I miss football with my brother.”
You smile. “Tommy right? My daddy loved football, he wasn’t going anywhere on Sunday night.” You laugh softly, resting your chin on your knee. “I miss mall Chinese food, they always loaded up so much on those plates and I could never finish it.”
“That was about the only thing I liked at the mall, we didn’t go there much though. I miss my guitar, I don’t even know if I could play it now if I remembered any songs…” Joel chuckles, “I loved the SNL show, tv in general I loved to stay up at night with…” His voice fades off, fist clenched slightly out of your peripherals and though you don’t know much you know at some point during the start of everything he had lost a child.
Clearing your throat you jump to change topics. “Do you like wine?” You lock eyes with him then, his expression a little more retreated.
“I haven’t found one I’m a huge fan of, but I never turn down a glass.”
Your smile does that thing to his stomach again and he can’t stop his gaze falling to your lips for the briefest of seconds. “Well good, there’s this lady I trade with in my building and she makes wine. I’ll have to bring you a bottle one night.”
The corner of his mouth twitches up, “trying to wine and dine me, Sunshine?” A blush creeps up your cheeks turning your smile sheepish.
“Maybe, only if you pay for dinner.”
Joel scoffs, the ease returning to his features as he tilts his head to the side. Your heart hammers a little faster under his gaze. “What a cheap date you are.” He mumbles softly, resting his elbows on the table leaning his head against interlocked hands.
“The cheapest.” You breath back, mirroring his posture. He smiles warmly butterfly’s erupting under your skin giving you that giddy school girl feeling that takes your breath away and turns your brain too mush..
“I’ll look forward to it then.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
You’d only been asleep a few hours when your name reaches your ears, startling you awake. You sit up mattress squeaking under your weight as you peer into the darkness.
“J-Joel?”
His sleep riddled voice bounces back to you. “I need help.” Instantly your scrambling out of bed, flipping on a light as you round the wall to find Joel looking up at you from where he lay on the couch, red faced and defeated.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t get up… I gotta take a piss.” Joel hasn’t felt this level of embarrassment since throwing his back out working with his brother and had to be carried down to the hospital. The feeling only digging deeper as he watches your face fall padding over to him, extending your hands.
“I told you to sleep in your own bed, Joel.” You abolish gently, pulling him to his feet. His grip tightens on your arms, hissing as his back straightens out, taking the moment to get his bearings before he releases you, grumbling something under his breath and limping to the restroom.
You sigh, going to your duffle bag and rummaging through its contents before you finally come across a small bottle of chamomile and lavender.
Joel comes out a few minutes later, eyes trained on the floor. “Sorry.”
“Hey it’s okay, I tore my shoulder apart when I was in highschool and could hardly use it for a year. Had to have people help me all the time.” You try to sympathize with his situation, your expression soft and warm as his eyes find yours. “But, luck for you, I think you only pulled a muscle. And I have something to help with that.” You lift the little bottle shaking its contents.
Joel eyes it suspiciously, crossing his arms over his chest, “I ain’t taken that.”
You scoff, grabbing his bicep, pulling him towards his bed. “You don’t take it, now lay down and lift up your shirt.”
Joel turns on you, looking horrified like you’ve grown two heads all of a sudden. “Excuse me?”
“Just trust me.” You pull him again, squeezing his arm, Joel hesitates, glancing from the bed then down at himself. “I use to be a message therapist. I’ve seen a thousand naked backs, yours isn’t going to be any different.” You encourage, smiling at him as he glances your way.
Sighing Joel relents, kneels onto the bed, pulling his shirt over his head and laying down, folding his arms under his head.
Okay.
Maybe you were wrong.
Joel’s back is defined, scars littering in various stages of time, some more purple compared to others. Shaking your head you swallow your sudden nerves, kneeling beside him. You open the bottle, the smell instantly filling the room and dump it into the palm of your hand, the oil slipping between your fingers, soaking your sweats and you curse silently, setting the bottle onto the night stand.
“Tell me where it hurts the most.” You instruct, rubbing your hands together to warm the oil before placing them on Joel’s lower back, his hips twitching slightly at the sudden contact.
“A little to the right.” His skin is warm and he hums softly under your touch, shifting his shoulders and head, wishing he could see your face. “There.” You set to work, finding the knot in his muscle and kneading the area, digging your thumbs and palms into his flesh.
Joel groans, long and drawn out and a thrill works it’s way down your spine at the sound, “To much?” Your voice is softer than you initially intended it to be, much to sensual sounding.
It’s just a back rub. Nothing more, be more professional.
He shakes his head, his body relaxing fully. “You weren’t lying.” He’s muffled slightly by the pillow but you can hear his smile.
“Yeah I went to school and everything. It’s like riding a bike, you just never forget.”
“Get an A from me darlin’.” Your heart swells with his praise, staying quiet as you continue messaging his back, traveling up to his shoulders and back down to his hips, the silence interrupted occasionally by a soft grunt or groan coming from Joel.
It’s only when he goes quiet, his breath turning even and deep do you stop, whispering his name. When he doesn’t reply you ease away and into the restroom, washing your hands and shedding your oil soaked pants.
Joel’s soft snores are all that can be heard as you stand at the foot of the bed, chewing on your lower lip trying to decide what to do from here. The couch is now free, but there is only one blanket, which is now trapped under Joel. There are enough pillows to maybe set one between you both, make a little barrier of sorts…
Would Joel be mad if he woke up in the same bed as you? You shift your weight from one foot to the other, mind racing with every possible reason as to why he would be mad, before you finally take a deep breath and tiptoe to the other side.
Without giving yourself time to talk yourself out of it you climb under the covers, setting a pillow in between you, praying that Joel won’t be upset in the morning as you drift off.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Joel wakes up slowly, conciseness coming to him little by little with the early morning sun lighting the room. He’s warm, body heavy and mind sluggish from what has possibly been his best sleep in years. Selfishly he wants to hold onto it a little longer, screw whatever he thought he needed to get done today and bury himself back into his dreamless sleep.
It’s only when he shifts, his chin bumping something firm, does he feel the weight on him. Blinking slowly he lifts his head, looking down to find himself tangled up with you. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg slung over his hip while his own is slotted between your thighs, and you’ve seemed to have lost your pants; Joel being granted a perfect view of your black panties that hide little to the imagination.
And all of the sudden he’s overly aware of you, of how soft your waist is under his callused palm, of how you still smell of sugar cookies and lavender, of the little puffs of air leaving you full lips ghosting across his neck. Then there is how his flannel has morphed to your curves, twisted around your body showing the pudge of your stomach and his blood is rushing somewhere… South.
All he can think about is how damn good you look wearing only his clothing. Joel’s heart rate picks up, his fingers drifting to your hair on their own, carding themselves through the soft strands, “Sunshine.”
You hum in your sleep, grip tightening around him as you nuzzle closer, lips brushing the column of his throat making him hold his breath as you settle again.
I’m going to hell.
It’s all he can think, his body so readily responding to you and you’re not even aware of it. You’re in your thirty’s for fucks sakes he shouldn’t even be considering this… but…
Tentatively, his grip tightens on your hair, pulling your head back so he can finally see your face. You look so peaceful, your features soft and delicate in your sleep he almost hates to ruin it. Almost.
“Honey … sweet girl wake up.” Joel’s voice is firmer, cutting into your sleep, rousing you with a small grumble.
“What…” You voice is horse, rolling your head to the side as you yawn, sleep holding on tight.
“It’s just me.” He can’t stop himself, seeing the length of your neck exposed like that, he leans down, gently kissing the delicate skin and you gasp, body tensing slightly. “Just me.” His thigh shifts up, pressing between your own and he can feel the heat radiating off of you through his sweatpants and it makes him feral.
“W-Ah… what are you doing?” You whimper, eyes pinching shut, fingers digging into his ribs as he finds that soft spot just under your ear earning another small gasp.
“Repaying you… For last night.” His grip on your hair disappears, finding your hip and rolling you onto your back. Your eyes snap open, breath trapped in your throat at the intense look of lust etched into Joel’s face. Now that you can fully see him your stomach tightens, need zipping down your spine as your eyes drink him in.
Just like his back his chest is defined, shoulders broad with a light dusting of hair that runs down to his stomach, and just past the waistband of his sweats where you can clearly see the outline of his…
You swallow audible, causing Joel to snort. Your eyes dart back to his and you swear you can feel your body melting with the fire in his gaze. He dips his face closer, bumping his nose against yours and smiles as you nervously squirm, thighs clenching around his where it still rests pressed against your mound.
“This okay?” As he speaks his lips just barely touch your own and you already feel your thoughts emptying out one by one as you nod slowly, eyes never leaving his own. “Tell me, need to hear your sweet voice.”
“Th-this is okay.”
With that he’s on you, restraint snapping as he finally kisses you, rough and hungry and desperate. Teeth, tongue and spit, forcing a moan from your throat with the intensity of it all, that Joel is all too happy to swallow up. His thigh presses in closer, your hips bucking involuntarily, dragging a moan from low in his chest.
Your hands slide up to his shoulders, gripping anything you can find for leverage as he sinks you into the mattress, drowning you in the covers, the pillows, and him.
Arousal consumes you, sparking in your stomach and traveling through your veins making you light headed, having not felt this type of high in many, many years. You grind yourself up against his thigh, your slick wetting your panties and soon creating a darker spot on his sweats.
You moan as he pulls away, attacking your neck again and pulling at your shirt, trying to expose whatever skin he can. “J-Joel… m… what’s.. what’s gotten into you?” Your losing your breath, the hand he isn’t propping himself up with traveling over your body, down your thigh, up your side, fingers sliding along the other side of your throat making goosebumps raise the hairs on your skin.
“Just want you, been wanting you since I laid eyes on you.” He admits, your face flushing with heat. “D’ya know how many times I’ve fucked my hand thinking about you? All laid out and pretty on my cock.” A filthy moan leaves your lips, grinding against his thigh to relieve the ache building between your legs.
Joel sits back, both hands finding your hips, encouraging your movements. “That’s right sweet girl, just like that.” You whine into the air, hands dropping to the bed gripping the sheets. He stares down at you, lust darkening his brown eyes as you grind against him. “Make all those pretty sounds for me, it’s just us.”
You nod, chasing after your building pleasure, breathy moans falling from your lips. Joel ruts against the back of your thigh, hands bruising your hips in the most delicious way. “J-Joel… need more… please…” Your clit throbs painfully, the angle you’re at restricting you from rubbing it how you want against his thigh.
“So greedy, go ahead play with yourself baby, wanna see you cum on my thigh before I fuck you, senseless.” Your fingers find your clit and rub harsh circles through the damp fabric of your panties, flying to that familiar peak, teetering right on the edge as you moan his name, hips frantic, but you need more, you want more.
Joel coos softly, enjoying your struggle. The pinched look, the wobble of your lips, as you search for that last little something. “I know you can do it baby, cum for me. Show me how good you can be and soak my thigh.” His words are your tipping point, sending you spiraling into that void of dark bliss as your orgasm rips through you.
The noises that leave your delicate throat consume Joel, and he’s whispering soft praises that you don’t hear, watching your legs tremble and hand still. “There it is, did so good for me baby.” You go limp underneath him, chest heaving with each shuddering breath, eyes shut and mind to far gone.
“Let me get this off of you.” He takes his time, slowing down to let you ride your bliss, undoing each button of the flannel. “Sit up.” You hardly have to, just lifting your shoulders and head before he throws the flannel across the room and you’re sunk back into the pillows.
Your panties and his sweats follow shortly after. His lips back on you, kissing between your breasts his beard scratching your skin in the most delirious way. “Joel…”
But his fingers are finding your slick heat, a groan reverberating through his chest and into yours. “So fucking wet, you liked that baby? Like getting yourself off on my thigh?” Warm embarrassment fills your belly, reigniting that fire. You nod slowly, keeping your eyes shut to avoid his intense gaze. “You getting shy on me now? Just a second ago you were fucking my leg.” He smiles against your skin watching the red tinting your cheeks grow darker, turning your away from him.
“J-Joel don’t… Don’t be mean.”
“Not bein’ mean.” Two thick fingers are suddenly sinking into you, a shrill cry retching itself from your throat. “Just given ya what ya want.” Your brain turns to mush with each pump of his fingers, hands scrambling to find any perches, a set of nails digging into his shoulder, the other tugging at the sheets. “Fuck… you’re so tight, gotta get you ready for me.”
His thumb finds your clit, working the bundle of nerves making moans echo through the room. Those thick fingers press against that gummy spot inside you that makes your hips stutter, your moans a little louder and he smiles in triumph, teeth nipping your breast watching the skin bloom with red marks. “S’that the spot?”
“Mmhmm…” it takes everything you have just to hum out an answer, mouth hanging open, thighs trembling as you’re brought back to orgasm, again. Climbing that mountain, no running it, to your tipping point.
“Can feel you squeezing my fingers baby, you gonna cum again so soon?” Joel doesn’t need your reply, even if you could give him one, your hips rocking to meet the rhythm he’s set. He doesn’t ease up, watching you come undone below him with a few more expert swipes of his thumb across your throbbing clit.
You make him feel young again, his body thrumming with pure, carnal lust. Something he hasn’t felt in years as he draws his slick coated fingers to his mouth, tasting you for what, hopefully, will be the first time of many. “Mmm… So sweet baby, I could spend hours just eating you.”
You whine pathetically, shaking your head back and forth, hair clinging to your face with sweat. “C-can’t…” Joel shakes his head, laughing darkly before tapping your cheek with the pads of his fingers.
“Look at me, Sunshine.” The timber in his voice makes you obey instinctively, finding his steady gaze. He grips your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks making your lips pout comically. “I know you’ve got one more in ya, I need to feel your cunt squeeze my cock. Think you can do that for me? Hmm?”
Joel shifts closer as he speaks, settling himself between your shaking thighs. His cock brushes against your puffy lips drawing a small whine from the back of your throat. You nod, Joel letting go of your checks as arousal washes through you once more, almost painfully so, as he rocks forward, the underside of his cock slipping easily through your damp folds, coating himself in your cream.
He hunkers over you, forcing your legs wider and rests on one elbow as he guides his cock to your opening, nudging in. “Relax darlin’, don’t wanna hurt you.”
Before you can even comprehend what is being said Joel thrusts forward, sinking in a few inches with a grovel moan. Your toes curl, eyes squeezing shut with a whine, the stretch hurting in a way you never want to stop.
“F-fuck Joel… s-so big.” A hand slips into his hair, tugging harshly causing him to gasp, a wicked smile pulling at his lips.
“You haven’t seen nothin yet, little girl.” He pins you to the mattress with his weight, thrusting until he’s fully seated inside you, heavy balls pressed to your ass. Your pussy squeezes him tightly, pain mixing with the pleasure intoxicatingly. He’s big, bigger than any man you’d been with in years, and as he pulls out only to thrust back in, the head of his cock kisses your cervix.
“Oooooh fuuuck!” You cling to his shoulders, his neck, his back, legs locking around his middle; anywhere to pull him closer as his pace evens out, fucking into you roughly. The old bed squeaks, headboard tapping the wall and above it all are the sounds leaving your lips to mix with his.
“Feel so good baby… been dreaming about this pussy.” Joel huffs out between thrusts, pressing his forehead to yours. The farther he slips into his arousal the thicker his accent gets, words dripping onto your nerves like honey.
“Wanted you to… so long Joel .” You pant, rocking your hips to match what he’s giving you. That glorious pressure building again in your body, cunt fluttering around his cock. “Don’t stop… oh fuck please don’t stop.” You can feel every ridge and vein rubbing along your walls in just the right way, his mushroom head bullying that sweet spot making your eyes roll.
“Not gonna stop, baby. Not gonna stop.” Joel groans, one hand gripping your waist to steady himself as he bullies his cock into you.
Your fingers slip between your bodies, finding your clit with a soft moan, rubbing tight circles. “I’m… im gonna cum…” you whine against his lips, noses bumping, breathing each others air.
“Come on then… cum on my cock baby, let me feel it.” Joel knows he won’t last much longer his thrust starting to turn sloppy. “Fuck… wanna fuck you full of me, watch it drip out. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Let everyone know who fucked you so good huh?” You thighs squeeze his hips in response to far gone to acknowledge him as you topple over the edge, crying his name as the pleasure blinds you momentarily.
Joel cusses burying his face in the side of your neck, your cunt sucking him in . “Fuck baby, fuck baby, fuck!” He pulls back, cock twitching and jets of cum landing on your stomach and abused lips. He fists himself, grunting against your shoulder as he comes down, body relaxing and dopamine flowing through him.
“J-Joel…” You breath, feeling his weight more and more.
“M’ Sorry…” He whispers, rolling himself onto his back, your stiff legs dropping to the mattress. You’re both panting wildly, chests heaving and sweat coating your skin.
You blink at the ceiling slowly, the neurons in your brain starting to fire again. “Well…” A small laugh bubbles out of you, Joel lazily looking over at you confused. “I’ve never been woken up like that before.”
Joel scoffs loudly and your giggle turns into a full laugh, lifting your head to look down at yourself. “Do I at least get a rag?”
“Better, ya can come get in the shower with me.” Joel groans as he sits up, giving you his hand. “Gonna need another one of those messages after that.”
#smut#apollyonsdarksecrets#joel miller#the last of us smut#the last of us#joel miller x female reader#joel miller smut#joel miller the last of us#joel miller x reader#joel miller x y/n#Joel Miller breeding
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Idia drabble, fluff, lots of couple banter
Your wishlist containing released games is empty.
In the next several minutes after saving a title to one, you can expect a notification that the game is getting downloaded, and a mere seconds after that—several messages from your boyfriend.
“thought u would never play it lol”
“weren't you supposed to be studying??”
He sends a meme degrading your hierarchy of values as if he were any better. It is followed by a request.
“stream it to me when you play it”
And you do, after thanking him yet chiding him for wasting too much money on you without a second thought. His reply was a string of emojis and guarantee that he is doing it all for himself, because “educating you on the topic of latest games is his duty” and he cares about “the boyfriend points”.
“I hope my love’o’meter for u was broken by all that pampering lmao”
“waiting for my cg to load up…”
[NAME]: “not enough affection points”
“damn”
“i need a walkthroughyt to this route”
Idia has you join a voice channel, with you sharing your screen. Playing a game in a separate dorm is a whole different experience than having him beside you, with his hands almost trembling to grab your controller if you couldn’t get past a certain level.
He would always wait for you to ask him for help, though. Then he could let the feeling of self-satisfaction sink in as he easily guided your character to another enemy to slash.
If he only has you on the voice chat, you might be able to finish the game almost fully by yourself.
You can hear the soft sound of his keyboard as he plays something as well. He divides his attention between you and his entertainment, and he throws in commentary to your playthrough, teasing you when you can’t find a secret key to the special gate, bullying you when you find the puzzles too hard, or when you pick the wrong dialogue option.
At some point, you might try to (playfully) mute his microphone, but you can only have eight seconds of silence before he hacks into the options.
“No need to be jealous of my gaming knowledge,” he exclaims, and you know he has that big stupid grin on his face. You huff, and he hums. “But if you want me to help, all you need to do is just ask.”
“I want to go through this game myself!”
“Okay, sure. But you know you have already missed the opportunity for the best ending, no?” He laughs. “That’s what you get for muting me, kitten.”
No need to spoil the ending just to get back at me, you’d love to say, but you learned that the shy boy who couldn’t hold your gaze several months ago is actually a big tease. You must’ve grown too much on him, as he would have continued the bickering even if you showed up in his room. No social anxiety towards you—that’s a bit of a shame, he was cute when you first started dating.
…Well, Idia you know now is a cutie as well, even if he can be very annoying sometimes.
“Enough. I’m going to play my otome games, bye.”
You log out, and shut the stream, chuckling all the time. A funny feeling tingled your heart, like always when you won (or have you?) in banter in Idia: your heart is warm enough to probably melt through the ribcage, but a subtle alarm rings in your head. Idia will probably take revenge for this.
He must already be in distress. He doesn’t like you playing otome games alone, as if you could have ever preferred a 2D boy over Idia. The thought makes you laugh.
You plop on your bed, unlocking your phone and tapping an icon of the name game you’ve installed. Although playing it with Idia would have been funnier, you are going to play him just out of spite.
…And after that, you will send him a wall of text about those handsome characters, because he needs to be updated on your current obsessions.
The title screen appears before everything crashes and the screen goes black. Several messages in neon-blue futuristic font colour appear one by one.
An error has occurred.
Caught exception:
Traceback (most recent call last):
File “characters”, line 46, in script
File “stats”, line 153, in script
File “story”, line 665, in script
File “achievements”, line 411, in log.1
File “backup_data”, line 139, in log
To continue:
“[Name]-san. Please come to our dorm. My brother is moping (so he won’t be finishing his project anytime soon, which is, really bad) and I would appreciate you having mercy on him.
Once you come, I will restore your data! It’s a promise :>
— ORTHO”
…Damn those Shrouds.
#idia strikes me as a man who can play a games with you but if it's not a cozy game he will criticize you a lot#he would probably love playing with you but his inner desire for winning a game is bigger than anything#watching him play a game is a show though#bring the popcorn#he could be a popular gaming streamer if he didn't fear people irl would comment on it#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#idia x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twst#twisted wonderland imagines#twst imagines#twst idia#twst idia x reader#as a computer science student i have no idea if an error like that could occur (burning in shame)
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You know you’re in serious trouble now. You promised your boyfriend you’d let him go down on you tonight. Though no one is obligated to have sex, you’ve chickened out so many times that it's become a pain that you personally want to get over. You’ve been dating for the first few months of college, meeting him at orientation and falling for him harder every time you saw him. He promised you two could start things slow being that you were a complete virgin (him being your first boyfriend), he told you there was no pressure and no matter how many times your nerves took over, he’d be understanding of it…but that didn’t stop you from wanting to jump headfirst into sex with him.
You immediately ran to the first and only friend you made all year, Suguru. He was a 3rd year and had just the right amount of patience to put up with you and your silly antics. You figured that since he was older, he must’ve had his fair share of women. I mean, come on, it’s not like he was ugly?? When you asked him to go to the mall with you to pick some things out, his slender face painted an amused smirk. You threatened to not have him go with you if he was going to take you as a joke, but he assured you he wasn't he just thought it was:
“Cute”
You turn a blind eye to his clear mocking of you and sat shotgun in his car. Upon arriving, you two went store to store (Suguru holding all the bags, of course). You went from Victoria’s Secret to Bath & Body Works, trying to pick out the right lingerie, the right perfume, and the right body scrub. You wanted everything to go over smoothly tonight, it helped that Suguru was right there picking out which scent would smell best on you, if it fit your face, etc. You’d like to think he enjoyed helping you in this way after all, who knows you better than your best friend?
After spending more money than you probably should’ve, he drove you home to your apartment. You made him sit and wait for you on your bed while you showered, decorating your shower walls with the different products you had bought earlier in the day. Using each one in the order it was supposed to be used, feeling how the wet metal stick glides across your legs and in between the creases your body makes.
After getting out of the shower, you find beads of water effortlessly dripping down your now hairless skin. The sight of it excites you a bit. You decided to hurry and dry off, quickly applying lotion and little blots of baby oil to keep your skin soft, throwing on a skimpy tank top, that showed your underboob and pajama shorts. You hurried to your room, plopping down on the bed next to Suguru, who is now lying on his back, toying with his phone.
“Sooo, how do I smell?" leaning in so he can sniff, he leans in, and his eyes flicker a bit, almost as if he were a vampire smelling fresh blood, but he simply gave you an:
“I’ve smelt better” and carried on with whatever he was doing on his phone.
“I’m serious, Sugie,” you whined, pushing his arm a little. “Do I smell good or not?” He turns to look at you, so you know he is sincere, his over observant eyes switching focus between your lips and eyes.
“You smell good,” he smiled, turning back to his now shut off phone, his eyes hiding something deep inside of him. He puts his phone down and lifts himself up so hes sitting. He places a hand on you, starting down your mid-thigh area, slowly creeping his way to your mid-calf, and back up again. His big, warm hands occasionally gripped at the fat closest to your bare mound. You could feel your body heating up from his sudden touch, and you prayed that he couldn’t tell.
“Soft too.” His head turns so his gaze can meet yours. You smirk and readjust yourself on the bed closer to the headboard, your legs practically inviting him in. He uses this opportunity to adjust himself right on top of your pelvis, his eyes staring at you with a certain ostensible innocence. He grabs onto your unsure hands and has you rub his face, brushing across his plump lips and keeping your hand there for a moment. You can feel him taking in deeper whiffs of your newfound scent. Blood rushes to your face, taking advantage of the moment to part his lips, curious to feel the warmth and wetness that it holds.
“So do I get a taste or what?” With his hands holding yours closely, you chuckle a little, trying to alleviate the tension. You won't deny that you’re already aroused and curious about how you taste. You find it hard to resist his request, being that he has already smelled and felt you. PLUS, this would be all for your boyfriend’s sake… right? No no, you won’t use any lousy excuses like that, you wanted this.
He slides your shorts and panties off of you to reveal your cunt, the translucent wetness forming webs between your puffs and the clothing. He looks back up at you with a hunger in his eyes. After sliding them all the way off, his head is stuck between your ankles. He begins kissing downward, leaving wet marks and gentle nibbles along the way down to your thighs. Feeling his warm breath tickle your thighs made your tummy swirl, your second heart beating faster than the first. He kisses and squeezes them, making sure you know he's watching your reactions. Your body shutters in response, never having felt this many sensations at once. Not only that, but this is your first time seeing your closest friend as something more. You never had any doubts about Suguru’s capabilities before, but especially now..
He slides his mouth over to your puffy gates, slowly kissing them. You can feel yourself oozing to the brim, watching his eyes dart up to you. His fingers graze over your soft skin, spreading your folds open, as he moves his stiff, wet tongue against your clit. He starts slowly, at first moving in long slow strokes, your body jolts a bit, slowly adjusting to the new feeling. He carefully slips a digit into you, feeling how you squeeze and twitch under his touch. He applies more pressure, moving his tongue rhythmically, and pushing his finger further and further into you. You start to pant and grab the sheets under you. With each stroke he makes, you fall deeper into euphoria, your face burning from the pleasure
“Sugie~” you whined. He moves both of his hands to either side of your hips and holds them down, making sure you feel everything that comes with ‘just a taste’. Your breaths become ragged and out of control, and your back practically levitates off the bed. He swirls himself in deep circles, drool escaping his mouth and drowning your cunt. He tounges you like you’re the sweetest treat he’s ever tasted, his brows furrowed as small groans escape his mouth, the vibrations and hot air adding to your arousal. You leave your mouth agape as the feeling drowns out any sense of the world around you, though it’s short lived as whines and silent moans leave your lips, moving quickly, you cover your mouth.
Suguru makes a disapproving groan against your clit making it beat with anticipation. He reaches up to your arms, sliding his hands down to your wrists. “Pretty girl,” he coos, vibrations still threatening to bring you over the edge. “Keep these down for me, or I’m going to tie you up, ok?” he warned, his voice deepening with lust. You nod and he slowly lets go of your hands, letting your fists bury themselves into the sheets. As he starts up again, this time suckling against your sweet bulb, your eyes shut tightly as you mindlessly attempt to move your hips towards him, your back practically levitates off the bed, begging for the pressure down below to finally release. Forlorn cries bounce off the walls as the familiar sound of sucking and huffing fills your ears, not nearly giving you enough time to breathe. But then he suddenly stops.
"Eyes on me.” You open your eyes and look at him, tears of joy form as he eases in two digits, beckoning a sharp gasp from you. His gaze grows softer shoots shoots you that same knowing smile. Knowing that he’s watching you, he’s touching you, he’s making you feel this way, it brings you over the edge, your tight walls seizing and leaking all over Suguru’s fingers, clutching faster and harder with every thrust. He traces his lips over your stomach back to your beating clit, eyes piercing through your skull, until the pressure building in your stomach finally boils over, appearing in the form of a gushing fountain. Your body tenses up until every last drop seeps out.
You look down at Suguru, who’s licking translucent slick off his fingers, his other hand still squeezing your thigh. “What? Want a taste?” He teases, crawling over your now limp body to position his lips above yours. They fall, lightly dancing against them, his hand finding its way under you and holding you close. His kisses become wider as he inches his tongue against yours, the slight metallic taste fulfilling your senses.
“You should only taste this way for me, you know?”
#jjk#jjk suguru#x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk geto#geto suguru#jjk smut#smut#jujutsu kaisen#getou suguru x reader#suguru geto smut#jujutsu suguru#y/n#cheating???? idfk mdni
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An Interesting Wager
Prompt: You go to the casino for the first time and catch the eye of a particular person
NSFW
Crocodile X Fem Reader
You walk into the bustling Casino. It was different from what you had expected. Plenty of machines filled with patrons wasting their money away. Your friends had convinced you to test your luck after beating them a few to many times at cards between all of them. Honestly you didn’t think the games were too hard but you couldn’t back down from a bet to see if you could double the money, they’d given you.
Talking of bets, you’ll admit it was hard for you to back down from a challenge, it’s a part of the reason you had avoided casinos in the first place. You push your thoughts to the back of your mind as you sit in an open seat at a table. A rather tall man in the seat next to you glances down, a cigar hanging from his mouth, “You seem new around here.”
It wasn’t a question, it was a statement and you straighten your back. “First time actually…” A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you glance up at him, “How could you tell.” You brush some hair behind your ear to distract yourself from the eyes boring into you.
The man, who has a scar stretching across his face smirks before leaning back, “It’s always easy to spot fresh fish in the pond. Do you know how to play the game or are you here to enjoy the view?” The smug attitude struck a small nerve with you but you pushed it to the side.
Sighing as you realized you’d have to interact further, although he was nice eye-candy, “Blackjack isn’t that hard of a game to understand…” You smile getting a small idea to test your luck, you glance up and down at the man seeing how lavishly he is dressed before meekly saying, “Although I’ll admit I’m not the best.” You lean forward on the table as you watch the dealer shuffle the cards, keeping an eye on the man beside you.
You see him quirk an eyebrow up, an amused expression on his face, “Not the best huh? Well it does take some practice…” The man leans closer to you, before he whispers, “Unless, of course, you’d like me to teach you?”
You hold back a smirk as your mind rejoices at hooking him on before putting on a gentle smile, “I could never ask you to help me Sir…”
“Crocodile”
Your mind gently recalls the owners of the casino being called Crocodile and races for a second as you think about maybe you’re taking on a large enemy. Glancing up at him, his eyes amused but seemingly aloof, “Sir Crocodile. You must be a busy man; I couldn’t distract you like that.” You display an innocent tone, if he doesn’t leave after this than that’s on him.
Crocodile chuckles, shaking his head slightly, “Don’t worry about that. I like the company. Now then… should we start the game Miss…”
“Y/N.” A smile plays on your lips as you notice the dealer hadn’t started handing out cards until Crocodile motioned for the game to start.
“Y/N… A lovely name,” He sultry voice rings through before turning his attention to the table. He leans over a bit though to continue the conversation, “Let me give you a little tip since this is your first time. Start small, don’t go too big too soon.” His voice sounded daring, “Unless of course, you’re feeling lucky.” A small chuckle leaving his lips as though it’s some sort of inside joke.
You swallow a small lump forming, ignoring his warning as you laugh a bit with him, “Lucky huh?” You stay still, thinking of your options, if you continued, you’d wouldn’t be able to turn back, “Maybe I am… Why don’t we make this a little more interesting? Just between the two of us yea?” You glance up at the casino owners face with a smile played upon your lips.
He raises an eyebrow at your words, a barely-there smile appearing, “Interesting you say? What do you have in mind?” He leans back in his chair, smoke billowing out from his cigar as he stares down at you, almost like a predator staring at their prey.
You choke on your words for a second, “What if…. If I win, you give me anything I want.” A smile falling back on your lips as your display an innocent look. If your friends wanted you to double your money, imagine their looks when you come back filthy rich.
Crocodile cocks an eyebrow at your proposal, intrigued by the idea, “Anything you want…” He thinks about a second smiling, “And what do I get if you lose?” The curious sharp look pinning you in your spot, his low tone giving clear enough warning.
You let out a small gasp, bringing your hands together nervously, you aren’t sure if you’re acting or genuinely nervous anymore but continue regardless, “Well then. I’ll, do whatever you want…” You voice turning to a small mumble as you turn your head away, your cheeks turning slightly red.
You feel his eyes watch you closely, his lips curly into a smirk, “Intriguing. I do like a woman who knows how to make an interesting proposal.” He leans forward, swiping the hair away from your neck as his voice becomes a husky tone, “I’ll accept your challenge Y/N. You win, and I’ll give you anything you want. But if I win…” His eyes trail over your features before continuing, “You’ll have to do exactly as I say. It’s only far. Wouldn’t you agree?”
You swallow again, regaining your voice as you nod your head in agreement, “I don’t intend to lose.” The attempt to show your prowess making Crocodile chuckle slightly as the game begins.
Small remarks are exchanged between the two of you as you continue to play until your chips have run out. Crocodile seemingly reading the dealer’s movements and anticipating the cards as they come. But as your last chip is spent you straighten your back, embarrassed at losing so easily.
Crocodile smiles, seeing the last of your bets disappearing, a predatory grin taunting you before he leans in close, “It seems I’ve won our little wager.” You suck in a breath, your head hanging down as you ignore the blush falling on your face, “You promised anything, and I intent to collect.” He laughs at your timid reactions now that you no longer have anything to bark back at, “Don’t tell me you’re were jesting.” His voice low and dangerous.
You suck in some air, your hands gripping the fabric of your dress, “I don’t go back on my words Sir.” It’s brings a spark of life to you, insulting at the idea of you not being serious of your bets. Crocodile watches you closely, taking note of the nervous seriousness of your tone.
“I must say, I’m quite impressed by your demeanor,” His low whisper hitting you as his hand slides up you arm for a second, “It must takes a great deal of courage to make a deal with me.” His tone turns slightly sour as his eyes narrow when your body shivers slightly, “But remember this. I won’t take kindly to anyone who goes back on their words.” You straighten your back, looking up at him with a small gasp as his hand grips your shoulder firmly, your face turning red from embarrassment.
He watches your subtle movements, enjoying the effect he’s having on you before grabbing your chin to point your face towards him. Despite the gentle touch, enough for you to shrink away, you stay, not wanting to be proven a liar, “I’m glad you understand the gravity of our wager.” His low dangerous tone sends a child down your spine before glancing around. He stands up and starts walking away a short command telling you to follow him hitting your ears.
You quickly take your place next to him, keeping up with his pace. He places his hand on the small of your back, leading you down a maze of hallways until you come upon a secluded room that seems like a private lounge. Crocodile closes the door behind you before taking a seat on one of the couches, lighting another cigarette as he gets comfortable.
You glance around the room before your eyes land on him staring at you. Timidly you go to sit next to him as he gestures you to do so, “So, what is it you want?” Your question coming out as a meek whisper, playing with your hair until it’s over one shoulder to distract yourself from the intense stare.
Crocodile’s eyes glance down at your exposed neck, your hair no longer covering the soft skin, a little lower your cleavage seemingly an open invitation to him. He notices you biting your lips as your eyes go to anyplace that isn’t him. Leaning back, his hooked hand wrapping behind the couch and around you, “What I want.” His voice low and husky as he blows smoke out, “Is to see if you can keep up with me.” The smirk on his lips intensifying as your face turns a darker shade of red from the implication.
Turning slightly to face him more, “And how should I keep up with you?” The innocent enough question as you decide to place a hand on his knee, ignoring the burning heat building up in your body.
He smirks at your timid eagerness, his gaze flickering to the hand now placed on his knee before they drag themselves back to your face. His hand slipping under your chin to point your face towards him as he leans in. “All you have to do…” the brush of his lips barely ghosting yours, “Is to do as you’re told.” A soft kiss falls on your lips before he leans back just enough to say, “And believe me Y/N. I fully intend to test your limits.”
You gulp, your mind racing at what he could mean before glancing at his lips again, deciding to initiate it yourself. A gentle hum to acknowledge his words as you squeeze his thigh slightly. “Just like that. Show me you want this.” The soft command hitting your ears, melting you as you shift your body to kneeling on the couch, deepening the kiss. Hungrily devouring what he’s giving you as your hands roam his chest before you fully straddle his lap.
You feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him as a hand gently travels up and down your back, caressing you. The soft approving growl erupting from his throat as you wrap your arms around him, your chest flush against his while a hand tangles its way into his hair.
The battle on tongues drowning out your senses with soft moans from the excitement of such a gentle yet fierce kiss coming from Crocodile. His hand coming to rest on the back of your neck before you decidedly take an experimental grind into the lap beneath you.
A low growl erupting from the man beneath you, feeling his arousal grow as he tightens his hold around you, keeping you close to him. “You are something else…” The lustful voice making you moans slightly as he trails his lips down your jaw and neck before coming back up to meet your lips once again.
You feel yourself growing impatient, wanting more than just to make out, your hands travel down, attempting to unbutton his shirt. A soft chuckle rings through the air as he leans back, allowing you to undress him. His own hand sliding to your thigh, hitching your dress higher and higher. Lifting your hips enough for him to rip the dress off you so he can take in your body.
His lips travel to your clavicle, nipping at the skin, “You’re mine,” soft murmurs hitting your ears, “I’ll make sure you remember that.” You moan at the claim, grinding down once again to feel the cock that is only blocked by a few layers of clothing between the two of you.
His relentless touches to explore your body slowly, each touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Soft grasps at your breast as the metal of his hook sends shivers wherever he touches. “Such a beautiful woman.” The praise sending your mind to heaven, “And you’re all mine, tonight.”
Your mind perks up at his phrasing, is this really how he treats a single night? This soft, tantalizingly slow pace of getting to know every inch. Admiring every part of you with deliberate touches. The thoughts quickly disappear from your mind as you’re brought back to the present, his thumb running along your panties. One of your hands going to your mouth in an attempt to muffle the noises you are making, as buck your hips for more.
Crocodile looks at you with a predatory grin, enjoying every response coming from you before he leans to your ear, “Don’t hold back Y/N.” The whispers driving you crazy, “Let me hear every beautiful sounds you make.” You can only nod your head as his thumb ghosts over your clothed clit.
The soft mewls escaping your lips the more he teases and touches your body before you feel his hook dip into your waistband, tugging slightly as he kisses your lips, “Shall we continue my dear?” His voice low and seductive and making you want to follow every wish he could ever ask of you.
You bite your lips slightly, leaning into his touches as you feel him tear the thin material off you, “W-what would you like me to do?” The breathing question escapes your lips as you stare into his eyes.
A dark smile plays onto his face as he looks watches you, his fingers dipping between your folds, gathering your wetness before slowly dragging them to your mouth. The gentle press enough of a silent command for you to wrap your lips around his fingers, tasting yourself as your tongue swirls around his digits, “Show me how much you want this Y/N.” His low tone hitting your ears as you go to suck more of his fingers, “Make me believe you’re completely mine.” Closing your eyes as you flatten your tongue against them, lapping them clean.
The moans revibrating through your mouth as his hook ghosts over your thigh. Crocodiles dark, lustful gaze taking in your seduction as you explore his fingers with your tongue. A soft growl of pleasure and desire leaving his lips as you pick up your pace, “You’re so eager.” Your hands ghosting over his arm as you spread you legs wider, any attempt to feel more at your core.
A sad moan leaves your lips when he pulls his fingers out of your mouth. But you quickly forget of the lack of something to suck when you feel him gently touch your slick folds. Crocodile reveling in how wet you truly are as he teases your entrance. Leaning forward he takes your lips in a passionate kiss as his hooked arm brings you closer to him. A surprised gasp allowing him to shove his tongue down your throat when he finally plunges his fingers into you. You can feel yourself pulse around his digits as he brings you closer to the edge.
Bucking your hips eagerly, you find yourself wanting for more than just his fingers. Tears prick your eyes just as Crocodile finally pulls away, his thrusts stopping, “Sir P-please. Crocodile I want more” The first plea finally leaving your lips cause a grin to appear on his lips. His own arousal almost overwhelming as he feels your body react to his touch.
He adjusts you off his lap, removing his fingers from your wet warmth as he towers above you. “Your wish is my command,” The dangerous glint in his eyes flicking over your body, “But know that there is a price to be paid.” With that he releases himself from the confines of his pants, readjusting you by pulling you closer, your legs willingly wrapping around him.
He kisses your pleading mouth as his tip aligns itself with you, your nails gripping into his back as he presses into you. You open your eyes to see a glint dangerous glint in his before becomes flush against you, the sudden fullness and extreme stretch that you let out a muffled scream. You feel him growl into your mouth as you attempt to catch your breath and relax, slowly getting use to his size. Your nails breaking the skin on his back.
Crocodile feels your body relax beneath him after a while, seemingly use to him before he starts a brutal pace the overwhelming pleasure erupting from you as you arch your back. You pull away from his kiss, instead pressing your forehead against his shoulder while screaming his name.
A hand stroking your hair, soft grunts and coos filling your mind as you hook your ankles together around him, staying as close to him as possible, “You love this don’t you?” Crocodile slightly taunts, taking pleasure in your shaking form sticking close to him, “Love being taken like this, used for my pleasure.” His lips finding your neck, nipping at the supple skin.
You cry out in pleasure, agreeing with him as you buck your hips in an attempt to meet his thrusts. You feel the pressure building, your thoughts filled him only him, “Cro-ocodile. Please, please can I cum?” You beg and plead, leaning back in an attempt to look him in his eyes.
Crocodile stairs down at your fucked out face, grinning at your pleas as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. Leaning closer his lips brush against your ear, huskily he whispers, “Cum for me.” The single commands cause your body to convulse, “Cum for me and know that you are mine.” The claim falling on your ears he presses his hand against your womb, a scream erupting from you as you feel how you tighten around him, how he forces you to stretch.
His hips flushed against you as your body tensing and convulsing around his as you see white as he holds you tightly in place. His own body finding release as you let out a scream of ecstasy, all while he marks and claims you in the most intimate of ways.
It isn’t until you feel your body relax that you truly realize your position. You chest heaving, arms wrapped loosely around Crocodile as his smug face is staring down at you. The immense feeling of being full. You remember his words halfway through, and let out a small chuckle, “Was this the price to be paid?” Your voice hoarse as you rotate your hips, still feeling him inside you and a low mewl escaping your lips as you let your body fall back fully to relax.
You hear him chuckle softly, fingers running through your hair as he holds you close. “This, my dear.” His lips gently kissing your ear before he continues, “Was merely the beginning.” He lips trail down your jaw, “I’m afraid you’ve caught my attention.”
You twist your head, attempting to meet his lips with your own, “Oh? That wasn’t apart of the deal.” A chaste kiss landing on the corner of your mouth as he lets out a growl.
“Deals can be re-worked.”
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brat tamer rafe when he's arguing with his girlfriend and she starts talking over him
🐾ᯤ
sitting in wards old office which now belongs to rafe, arguing with him over something so silly and he’s just not listening! you’re sat on the leather couch and he’s pacing back and forth— if you weren’t so mad at him you’d be fawning over how good he looks in his shirt and blazer and slacks — like a real grown man, which usually made you salivate. instead, you’re sulking, hands on your knees with a pout on your face. this argument has been going in circles for like 20 minutes now, because you were certain you did nothing wrong.
“theres rules… to this relationship baby you know that. okay? you’re — you’re not stupid so i don’t understand why the hell you thought it was a good idea to come down the stairs when im in the middle of a deal— making money for you to—”
you can’t help but cut him off, whiny and petulant to make your point. “but rafe how am i supposed to know when you—”
“hey, hey — i’m talking now!” he yells, his loud voice echoing as he points to himself. you instantly shut up, mouth closing as tears spring to your eyes. “what’s not clicking with you being in trouble and not fucking listening to me when im explaining? huh?” he lowers his voice only slightly as he looms over you threateningly. as soon as you start to sniffle, placing your face into your hands and letting out little sobs his resolve crumbles a little, letting out a sigh and beginning to pace again, running a hand over his face.
“okay, okay alright.” he squats infront of you. “alright.” he adds slower and you look up at him, mascara a mess beneath your eyes. “maybe… maybe i shouldn’t have yelled, okay? you just —” he sighs in frustration shaking his head. “you drive me crazy sometimes, you know? when you don’t listen it’s like — you don’t wanna understand… and i can’t have that. you want this to work, i need you to listen to me. can you do that? can you listen?” he speaks softer one of his hands taking yours.
you nod, and he mirrors it, staring at you as he thought. you were just about to meekly ask what he was thinking about before he stood up to his full height. “you need to learn your lesson, ‘kay?” it sounds sympathetic, but you knew it had to be the opposite.
within no time, he’s got you bent over his lap — 15 hard, loud spanks in. you’re crying and writhing around over his thighs, somewhere between ashamed and deeply horny. your skirt was bunched at your lower back and your panties pulled to your knees, so you knew he must be able to see or hear how soaked you were. your thoughts were answered when he gave in to your writhing and whimpers and started to spread your wetness around with his fingers before pushing in.
he sets a punishing pace, and as if the position wasn’t humiliating enough — he’s lecturing you the entire time. knuckles deep in your cunt, occasionally feeling his big rings graze your fat lips. he sighs, shaking his head.
“you know, i don’t think you appreciate all i do for you. why i do these things, sweetheart. it’s for your own safety okay? i make deals with all different sorts of people and — and id hate for you to be wrapped up in something you can’t handle. yeah? s’why i get mad. is that fair? am i the bad guy for wanting to protect you?”
“no daddy, you treat me so well.” you mewl, arching your back, practically drooling as he finger fucks you within an inch of your life. he sighs out his nose, thumbing at your spine.
“yeah. yeah i do”
🐾ᯤ
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ɪɴɪQᴜɪᴛᴏᴜꜱ ᴊᴇʀᴋ - ʏᴊʜ
⛧ PAIRING : Gambler! Mobboss! Yoon Jeonghan x F! Reader
⛧ TROPE : Established relationship AU
⛧ GENRE : Smut, Gambling themes
⛧ SYNOPSIS : Having sat next to your boyfriend for whole three hours, got you more more than just bored.
⛧ CONTENT/WARNINGS : Bratty! Reader [I'm back with this y'all], super horny! Reader, HardDom! Jeonghan, degradation, blowjob, hair pulling, cum eating, slight ass groping, slut-shaming, Daddy kink.
⛧ WORD COUNT : 1.4k
⛧ A/N : Jeonghan has me under his chokehold y'all. be scared
⛧ DISCLAIMER : Anyone who hates or doesn't like smuts can kindly block my account. DO NOT REPORT.
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You leaned your back on the cushions of the black leather couch. You eyed all the huge bunches of money stacked up in between the table, several different men and women sitting around the huge table as they anxiously anticipated to see the winner. Your fingers held onto the stem of your wine glass, swirling it in pure boredom you had been feeling for the whole time. But boredom wasn't all you felt, you had sat there with your mind wandering to places at the sight of your boyfriend – well almost sugar daddy – who sat with his legs spread, his pants hugging his thighs while his jaw clenched in frustration.
‘Fucking bastard’ You mutter under your breath, in annoyance, but making certain Jeonghan heard you.
His eyebrow cocks up at your curse, but his focus stays on the cards. He clenches his teeth while his hand stays on his cards. A low scoff escapes your lips at the lack of his reaction, you wanted nothing but scream at him. ‘Iniquitous Jerk’ – another curse mindlessly rolls off your tongue while you roll your eyes at the back of his head. Well who could blame you, you had been sitting there for three hours straight with nothing to do about the arousal pooling in between your legs.
You wanted him to bend you over the table and pound into you for trying to distract him in between the biggest game.
You wanted him to let his big cock sink inside your pussy while his hands caressed your ass lovingly before striking against the soft flesh.
You just wanted him and his hands all over your body, telling you to behave.
You sneakily slip your hand down to his thighs, your fingers danced on his leather covered skin. Before you could even have the thought of slipping your hand any further towards his crotch, you feel his fingers wrap around your hand and throw your hand away from his thighs – while a discreet ‘Behave’ was heard by you.
You stare off into void for the next few minutes, in pure arousal and disappointment, before you flinch hearing a loud groan from the other man next to you. And you look around to find your boyfriend smirking while his bodyguards take out three empty suitcases and bag all the money on the table. “Well played Yoon.” The older man next to you says while everyone walks out groaning and grunting.
After finally filling up the suitcases all the bodyguards eye Jeonghan for the next order. “Walk out, lock the door and wait for us. Make sure, no one even tries to enter the lounge, I've got something to take care of.” Jeonghan made sure only you were able to hear the last sentence.
He pats his thighs once he made sure the three built men left the suit, “Come here, princess.” You let out a scoff for the nth time tonight, “And why would I do that?” You taunt him, but seemingly Jeonghan's patience ran thinner than any other day, today. Maybe the man would have tolerated your behaviour for a few minutes longer usually, but today he had had enough of your little bratty blabbers through the whole night and not to forget, your scoffs and whines every few minutes had pushed him to the edge.
“Keep up with that attitude and I'll rip apart this tight little dress and make you walk out naked with my cum dripping down your legs.”
A low whimper flew from your throat before you could even have a thought of controlling it. And Jeonghan shoots you his angelic smile again, “Now, I'm asking you again, Come here, Now.”
You scramble to get yourself on top of his thigh. Jeonghan's smile morphs into a smirk at your obedience, but oh will you face the consequences. His hand comes down to the small of your back, and lowers till he's gripping the flesh of your ass harshly. “Shouldn't you start making up for your behaviour, and get on your knees by now?” Your expression changes to one of confusion. “Unless you want to be edged till we get home, and I still would not let you come.”
For a fact, you know Jeonghan isn't joking when he cocks his eyebrows while his lips part away. You swiftly sink down to your knees, your hands already working on the belt of his pants. Your fingers slip in between his waistband, pulling down his pants along with his boxers to free his cock. Your pupils dilate from excitement, and your fingers barely graze over his length before his hand is slapping yours away.
“Hands to yourself, Bad sluts don't get to touch their daddy’s cocks.”
There was hidden excitement bubbling up in you, gosh you were finally getting what you wanted the whole night. Finally getting treated like you were his slut, nothing but a cum dump for him to relieve his stress.
Your head leans forward excitedly, and Jeonghan doesn't miss the chance to taunt about that fact. “Aren't you a little too excited for a brat who was speaking nasty stuff about her daddy?” You barely try to control the bratty whine that emerges from you as you look up at him with your best puppy eyes. You knew well Jeonghan was weak for those. “Guess I have to give my slut what she wants, don't I?”
And soon, before you could comprehend, his hands intertwine between your hair locks and push you down onto his cock. Your throat constricts around his length while his hands push you down on his cock till your nose is almost touching his skin. Your eyes tear up quicker than you imagined, and your jaw struggles to take him whole. Jeonghan visibly smirks at your pathetic struggling state, feeling so powerful as he sits there leaning his back against the couch.
His hands grip tightens on your hair locks before pulling you back with a jerk. He let out a mocking chuckle at your state, tears were streaming down your cheeks and your lipstick was quite much smudged. He soon expresses a fake frustrated grunt, “Can't even fucking take my cock in her mouth like a good slut. Guess that stupid mouth is of no use is it?”
“You just caught me off guard” You defend yourself while angrily lashing back at him.
“Ah! Now don't you fucking talk back, get to work if that slutty mouth of yours is of any use.” You swiftly lowered your head back down onto his cock, while your hands were behind your back. Just like he wanted. Your plump lips moved up and down his base, while your tongue swirled around him making him throw his head back. Few strands of his hair flew to his forehead and his hands came down to slightly glide you around his cock.
“Fuck fuck fuck! Such a fucking slutty mouth you have baby? Always ready to suck daddy off isn't it?” His voice comes out hoarse followed by a loud moan. His hips try hard not to buckle right up into your mouth while his hands tightened their grip on your hair locks moving your head faster.
Jeonghan's hips finally buckle up, not being able to hold still. While his hands still your head, his hips thrust up making his dick hit the back of your throat for the second time.
Within a few seconds, you were breathing heavily through your nostrils – well trying to – and your hair was a mess under his fingers’ tight grip when you felt his hot load of cum, spill into your tongue – and some painting the roof of your mouth. Jeonghan's eyebrows furrow in delight and he throws his head back in a loud groan.
His hands take a good long lasting minute before slowly releasing you off his length with a ‘pop’. Jeonghan's heavy panting slowly dies down and regains his posture. He grips your arms and pulls you up to your feet, and makes you sit on the desk. He cups your face slowly, before letting his lips enclose yours. He could still taste himself on your tongue before he pulled away.
“Let's get to the car.” His words instantly make you exclaim, “What?!”
“Mhm, don't act greedy. You were such a good girl just now. Stay patient till we get home, and I'll fuck you till you can't walk.”
Jeonghan walks towards the door, and you follow him just two steps behind him. A scowl plastered on your face.
“Iniquitous Jerk.” – You spat under your breath. “Now, say that again, unless you want me to bend you over that table and spank your ass till it's the colour of your lipstick and not let you cum for the whole night.”
© wooyoungmybelovedhusband. Do not repost, steal or translate my work.
#svt#seventeen#svt smut#seventeen smut#svt smut imagines#seventeen smut imagines#svt x reader smut#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen x reader smut#svt jeonghan#seventeen jeonghan#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan#jeonghan smut#svt jeonghan smut#seventeen jeonghan smut#jeonghan smut imagines#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan x reader smut#svt jeonghan smut imagines#dom! jeonghan#dom! jeonghan smut#dom! svt#dom! svt smut#dom! jeonghan x reader#bratty! reader
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reason to stay [mafiarry]
summary: you come across a little something that harry’s been keeping from you.
warnings: mentions of the mafia, descriptions of a gun and violence, swearing
word count: 2,819
a/n: wow, it's been a hot fuckin' minute since I did mob!harry but hey, here it is!! next couple of weeks you guys will also be getting a new mob!harry series, so keep your eyes peeled!!
//
He knows the rules by now. Head down, shoulders high. Let them know you by a name, never by yours.
Harry thought he was slick enough to pull that over your head, too. He should’ve known better. He can’t live two separate lives, can’t keep you in the dark from the main life he lives. He can’t have you believing this fantasy forever.
But you knew, you knew since the beginning something was wrong – there was something he wasn’t telling you.
All the “security” he has to follow you when you want to go out without him, the personal driver, and the random stop-ins from three “friends” in particular. And if that wasn’t enough, the constant phone calls and change of phone numbers were enough to make anyone suspicious.
You trusted him, and never really had a reason not to. You’ve known Harry for years, as far back as you can remember. Even then, he was slightly shady, never giving much information about himself willingly.
But things are different now. You’re moved into his home, riding in his cars. Harry knows your every move, claims there are too many bad people out there, and that he could never live with himself if something happened to you and he couldn’t get to you in time.
Now, staring at the wad of cash that’s been stuffed into the hollow wood of the foot of the bed, all of your suspicions are confirmed. Not a doubt in your mind when your eyes catch glimpse of the silver barrel of a gun peeking from beneath the money.
There’s at least five grand there alone; tied together with elastic bands, and a separate wad wrapped with your hair tie.
From what you’re aware of, it’s not typical of a hotel owner to stash cash and a handgun in the foot of his bed.
You can’t help but chuckle to yourself. Harry has a safe just six feet away in the back of the closet. You know why the gun’s in the foot of the bed – easy access, just in case anything happens.
There’s an unfamiliar feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t quite tell if it’s your gut telling you to run, or simply confirming that you were always right – you always knew there was something else deep down.
Harry’s not supposed to be home for another hour, you don’t know what to do with yourself in the time between.
Do you wait at the table for him when he gets home? Sitting there with the gun and cash laid out with your hands crossed? Do you put everything back and leave the top of the foot of the bed slightly out of place, so he knows that you know?
Or do you just pretend you didn’t see a damn thing?
You can’t live your life in a relationship with someone who keeps an entire lifestyle a secret from you. You can’t be engaged to a man you barely even know.
Harry can’t seriously have thought you wouldn’t find out, right? That someone somehowwouldn’t accidentally split up, or you wouldn’t start asking questions or start snooping for answers?
Because you weren’t snooping – not exactly.
An accidental knock at the foot of the bed when changing the sheets is what uncovered the truth. How pathetic. Not even a big reveal as to the secrets the man you love has been keeping.
Just your own accidental clumsiness.
But nothing is truly an accident, you believe that. Your intuition told you to lift the board and look into it, you could’ve just straightened the board back up, but you didn’t.
Curiosity always kills the cat. But you can’t be sure if there’ll be any satisfaction to bring it back.
//
“I don’t give a fuck if you have to pull his teeth out one by fucking one. Get the answers I want, or you’re the one to pay for Lopez’s fuck up.”
Harry raises a brow, tongue prodding at the inside of his cheek. Tommy never did have any chill when it came to hearing things he didn’t like. It shouldn’t surprise Harry anymore, not after all this time.
“I thought I told you, we’re sweet with the Solados'?”
Tommy turns around, lips pursed with rolling eyes. “So ‘cause we’re sweet with them, they get to walk all over us? I don’t think so. They work the corners, we run the shit. Keep ‘em in their place, no?”
Harry holds his hands up, a chuckle slipping from the side of his mouth and Tommy grins.
“Don’t tell me Y/N’s making you all soft now… just a few years ago, you would’ve threatened worse and cut off half their pay.”
Harry remembers exactly who he was before he met you again, remembers how reckless and money hungry he was. He barely recognizes himself as ever having been that person. Meeting you again made him realize there’s more to life than drugs and money.
“Not going soft in the slightest… though the less you say, the more your threats mean. Might wanna give it a try sometime.”
Tommy scoffs as the car pulls up to a stop outside Harry’s building.
“Kavin, I’ll need you to pick me up at 8:30 tomorrow morning, got a few bits I need to take care of.”
The driver looks up through the rearview mirror as Harry talks, and he nods his head, a timid smile on his face. “No problem, boss.”
Harry turns to Tommy.
“As for you, try to stay out of trouble ‘til morning, please?”
Tommy flips Harry off as he gets out of the car and makes his way inside. Shoulders slumped from exhaustion, Harry’s still beyond excited to get home and see you. To get straight in bed and hear all about your day while your head lays on his chest.
A smile tugs at the corners of his lips as the elevator takes him up to the penthouse. However, Harry doesn’t have to move far into the apartment before he finds you.
Expecting to see you already cozied up in bed, he’s confused to see you sat on the kitchen island in the dim lighting, body adorned in white lace and a pair of black heels.
Harry’s almost certain you’ve never looked so stunning, but he thinks that every damn time he sees you.
He can’t hold back the choke that breaks past his throat, and he can’t hide the tightening tent that begins to form in his fitted trousers. Harry grins sheepishly as he makes his way over.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
You eye him, heart beating heavily in your chest. Unfolding your legs, you spread them open to allow Harry to close the space between you.
You guide his hands to your hips, a hum slipping past your lips.
“I thought seeing as we were doing surprises today, this would be a nice one for you to come home to.”
Your hands slowly cover the expanse of his chest. Feeling and groping the muscles beneath his white shirt. Harry's eyes are too focussed on the way your tits bulge from your bra to look you in the eye, but your words to cause a quirk in his brow.
“And what surprises might those be?”
He’s too in his fucking head, too into your body and the taste of your neck to notice you reach for anything, to even notice you move or shift. You’re going to be his fucking downfall.
“I don’t know,” you hum seductively, keeping your grip tight on the handle, pulling off the safety. “Maybe finding this little thing.”
Harry hears the click as the cold barrel of the gun meets his temple and his entire body stills. He pulls back slightly, eyes cautious as he meets your eyes.
You’re stoic, solid. You’re not about to break for shit.
“Where’d you get that, sweetheart?”
“You tell me, honey.”
Harry doesn’t say a word, doesn’t let his eyes leave yours.
“Did I find it behind the freezer? Or was it at the foot of the bed? Or, maybe I found this one in the tank of the toilet.”
Harry begins to realize you’ve been on what appears to be an Easter hunt today, finding all sorts of his little gems dotted around the house. But what he can’t figure out is why or how you started finding them in the first place.
“Tell me, Harry,” your free hand reaches between his thighs, cupping the bulge that sits heavy. “Why does a hotel owner have four guns hidden in his penthouse, with wads of cash stashed in the walls and floorboards, hm?”
Harry’s mouth grows dry, hands are slightly clammy. He works exceptionally under pressure and knows there’s always a way out, but with this, he isn’t so sure… Harry’s never dealt with this situation, he’s never even anticipated this would happen.
How stupid does he think you are?
“Put the gun down, and we’ll talk.”
Even though you’re the one with a gun to his head, he still speaks with such power and control. You won't budge though, and neither does the gun.
“I’ll put the gun down when you tell me the truth.”
He huffs, but you don’t give him chance to try and worm his way out of it.
“It’s drugs, isn’t it? That’s what’s always blowing up your phone, why Tommy is so secretive when he’s around me… why I can’t go anywhere or do anything without you knowing about it.”
There’s silence from Harry. In all honesty, he’s never seen you like this before and with a gun to his head, he’s not entirely sure how you’ll react if he tries to speak.
“What, did you think you could live this other life and not tell me how you really make your money? Did you seriously think I’d never find out, Harry? Do you think I’m that fucking dumb?”
“No, Y/N. I never told you to protect you! The less you know about this shit, the better. I don’t want you involved in any of it, okay? Now put the fucking gun down and we’ll talk.”
There’s desperation in his eyes but you can’t quite put your finger on what he’s desperate for. Surely he knows you’re no good with a gun, there’s no way you’d shoot him. Maybe it’s desperation that this doesn’t make you get up and leave.
Could he blame you if you did? He’s kept a whole life of his completely secret from you. Does he expect you to just stay and forget about it? Act like everything’s okay?
Nonetheless, despite your inner battle, you lower the gun and take a shaky breath as Harry slowly pinches it from your hand. He puts the safety back on and slides it across the island.
Harry’s eyes never leave yours as he takes off his jacket and rests it around your shoulders. With the chat you’re both about to have, it doesn’t sit right with him that you’re almost completely naked.
That’s when you finally break eye contact and the reality of everything starts to really sync in.
Not only has Harry been living an entire life secret from you, but he’s been living an illegal one. One with drugs and guns, and no doubt blood and pain.
As he leads you to the sofa, you begin to rake your brain for any times he’s ever come home scratched or bruised or bloody. It’s not like you fall short, either. There are a good few instances that pop back into your head.
He always claimed it was a rough night with training, or he and Tommy were fucking about and he clipped him with a black eye. You feel like a fool for ever believing a word that came out of his mouth.
As you’re staring at the coffee table you can’t help but question everything he’s ever said to you, everything he’s ever done. How did he even afford to buy a hotel? Was that with dirty money? And this apartment?
“Babe.”
“Don’t babe me, Harry. Sit down and explain right now before I walk out that door and I never come back.”
He huffs and takes a seat, reaching for your hands but you don’t let him. You won’t let him touch you, not until you know the truth. And even then, maybe not.
“Look, I’m happy to be open and honest with you. But there are some things you can’t know, some things I won’t tell you. To protect you. You have to understand this entire thing is bigger than us, bigger than me and Tommy.”
You raise your eyes to meet him, your face as stoic as you can muster but Harry can see you crumble behind your wavering exterior.
“You know me as Harry, and that’s who I am, who I always will be. But there is another part of me, another life I suppose I live separately. To keep you and my family safe. I’m not just a drug dealer, baby. I work for one of the biggest distributors in London. Tommy and I, we’re two of the most powerful men in the city. We run a gang of 13 corners, we sell big, not small. It’s a dangerous fucking business we work in Y/N, so dangerous I’m known by name never by face. To protect you, to protect my family.”
You blink, trying to take in the information he’s giving you. You figured most yourself, though hearing it come from his mouth? You’re not sure how to take it.
“I got myself in a mess when I was 17, I started working for a local dealer to make back the money I owed. That’s when I met Tommy, we were both in the same boat. After a while, we realized we were pretty good at it, and we got bigger and bigger. Made names for ourselves on the streets, but it came with a price. We lost a lot to get to where we are, Tommy lost his Mum, I lost my Uncle… I’m not prepared to lose you, too. That’s why I kept you out of it.”
Everything starts hitting you a little too hard. It’s too painful to hear Harry confess everything you've already assumed. In the six years you’ve known him, everything feels like a lie, like you don’t actually know him at all.
You’re engaged to a complete stranger. A dangerous stranger no doubt capable of murder, and you can feel your chest begin to sink.
“I can’t be here, I need to go.”
Harry shoots up as quickly as you do, hands gently on your elbows to steady you from making a hasty move.
“Darling, I know it’s a lot to take in but please, just hear me out.”
“Hear you out? Harry, you’ve lied to me for six fucking years. I got engaged to a man I don’t even know and you expect me to sit here and hear you out? This is too much, I can’t be around you right now.”
Panic sets in for Harry, his heart frantic in his chest and he doesn’t know what to do. You do know him, he’s Harry, yourHarry. Even if you can’t see that right now.
“Where are you gonna go? Stay here and I’ll leave, I don’t want you roaming the streets.”
You huff. “I’m going to pack a bag and spend the night at my Mums. You can call Kavin and have him take me if that makes you feel better. I just need to be away from you for a while. I need to think, Harry.”
He doesn’t say a word, just sits back on the sofa while you scurry to the bedroom to change and pack a bag. It feels like you’re in there forever, when really, only a few moments pass.
It takes everything in you not to collapse to the floor in the closet, chest heavy and you struggle to gasp for another breath. You refuse to break, not while you’re here anyway. You need to get out of this apartment, out of Harry’s presence, and think.
When you leave the bedroom, Harry hears and stands again, eyes glued on the overnight bag you’ve only ever packed to spend the weekend away with him.
With a deep sigh, you clear your throat.
“I just need the night to think and wrap my head around this. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Harry nods, swallowing back the lump of a cry that’s fighting its way up his throat.
“Kavin’s downstairs waiting for you.”
You make your way to the elevator, every step an effort for your tired body, and you can’t bring yourself to look back. As you step into the elevator, Harry gets a little closer so he can still see you.
“I love you, baby.” He whimpers out as the doors begin to close.
You look away, eyes closed shut.
“Goodnight, Harry.”
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#imagine harry styles#harry styles x you#harry styles smut#harry styles x reader#harrys styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles fic#harry styles oneshot
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♡ 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ♡
Boxer!Eren Yeager x Onyankopon lil sis!black fem reader
Your big brother, Onyankopon, was a well-renowned fighter in the boxing industry, winning belt after belt due to his exceptional skill. You were proud of him, especially considering the hardships you both endured for him to reach this point.
There's a twelve-year age difference between you, with him being 34 and you being 22. Since the moment you were born, Ony has been the one taking care of you because your emotionally unavailable parents felt they didn’t need to. He stole for you, bought you food, and ensured your education by enrolling you in tutoring programs under your parents' name to secure your graduation, admission to a good university, and a high-paying job. Fighting was how he made his money.
When it came to you, Ony didn’t play, so you could only imagine his face when he sees a video of his main opponent basically flirting with you at a coffee shop.
Today was a very slow day for you. Your lectures were stupidly long and boring, your friends were all busy, AND on top of all that you dropped a cookie you were eating in a puddle when you were walking to class. Now you find yourself working on a assignment for your chemistry class in a coffee shop.
As you were working, you heard a large commotion coming from the entrance of the store. Turning to see what it was, you were blinded by flashing lights emanating from the front windows of the store. Deciding not wanting to have these lights in your eyes, you turned back and continued working.
After about 30 minutes you grew hungry. Cursing yourself out for not getting any food before hand, you made your way to the register. On the way there, you got a notification on your phone causing you to look at it.
Sash 🫡 :
YALL WANNA HANGOUT LATER????
Y/n 💞 :
oh so when I ask if y’all want to hang y’all don’t wanna respond 🙄🙄 (oh and sure>.<)
Con 🤓 :
thats because you be asking us at the most god forsaken hours😒
As you were typing out your response, you bumped into someone. (cliché i know but y’all bare with me 🙏) “Oh I’m sorry..” you say before you see a cake pop fall to the ground. Now you were really sorry. The man in front of you groaned in frustration. “Watch where you’re goin-“ he paused when he turned around. Staring at you as if he was lost for words.
“I’m so sorry. Please let me buy you another one.” You offer. An unexpected low “Damn” fell from the man’s lips leaving both you and him confused. “No it’s fine” he says when he snaps back to reality. “Oh come on! It’s my fault so I’ll buy you a new one! I’m going there right now anyways!” You insisted eager to fix your mistake. The man turns looks at his friends and then looks back at you. “Ok um sure.” A small smile forming on his lips.
"Here," you said, extending the cake pop to him with a sheepish grin. "Sorry again." "You really didn't have to do that," he replied, his gaze shifting to the dessert now in his hand. "No, no! I had to!" you insisted, your smile widening with sincerity. He returned your smile, gratitude in his eyes. "So... do you have a name?" he asked. "Oh, umm it’s (y/n)! What’s yours?" you responded. "Eren. Oh, um, Eren Yeager," he replied shyly.
As you processed his name, a wave of recognition washed over you. You'd definitely heard that name before. That's when it clicked. The paparazzi, the wounds on his face. everything fell into place, and you suddenly realized who he was.
"You're that boxer, right?" you said, unable to contain your excitement as you grinned at him. "Oh, umm, yeah," he replied, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "Do you like boxing?" he asked, trying to shift the focus away from himself. "I mean, my big brother's a boxer," you replied casually, feeling a of pride as you mentioned your brothers job.
"Really? Who is he?" Eren asked, his curiosity piqued. "Onyankopon!" you replied proudly, the name rolling off your tongue effortlessly.The feeling Recognition formed on Eren's face. That's where he'd seen you before—linked to the famous Onyankopon.
Eren and Ony were headlining for this highly anticipated boxing event, were they are facing each other in the ring. Throughout the years of both of their boxing Journeys, there have been very mild beef between the both of them. But nothing to Extreme.
"Hope you don’t mind me beating up your brother," Eren teased, flashing a mischievous grin at you. "Umm, I don’t think you will," you replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you bantered back. With a subtle nod, you motioned for him to follow you back to the table where your belongings stood.
Eren obliged, his smile widening as he fell into step beside you. "So, what do you do?" "I'm in university right now. I want to become a dermatologist," you replied. "Oh, really? That's cool," Eren responded.
"Hey, so um," Eren interrupted you, halting your steps. You turned to face him, curious about what he had to say. His smile was infectious, and you found yourself returning it. "I was wondering if you'd want to talk more," he continued. “I would love to but my class is starting in a few minutes and..” you look at the paparazzi still flashing there cameras at him. “You also look busy.” You return your gaze back to him. He looks behind him and sulks. Their still here?
"Then can I get your number?" Eren asked, eager to continue talk to you more. Your smile widened at his request, flattered by his interest. With a playful glint in your eye, you reached out for his phone, causing a flicker of confusion to pass over his face. "For my number," you clarified with a smirk, enjoying teasing him just a little. "Oh, um, yeah," Eren stammered slightly, fumbling in his pockets until he located his phone. Once he retrieved it, he handed it over to you.
"Here ya go, honey," you said teasingly, handing Eren his phone back with a playful smile dancing on your lips. His cheeks flushed slightly at the nickname, caught off guard by the endearment. "Thank you, pretty," he replied, mustering up the courage to flirt back, his attempt at charm accompanied by a sheepish grin. As you prepared to leave, Eren's gaze lingered on you, reluctant to see you go. "Text me when you get home," he requested softly, his sincerity evident in his tone as he watched you pick your stuff up and leave.
A/n 𐙚🧸ྀི: ITS MARCH BREAK YALL IM FREEE !! I might make a part 2 of this😙
#angelic wh0reʚ ɞ#black fem reader#angelicwh 0 re#attack on titan#aot x reader#aot x black reader#aot x black y/n#aot x you#aot fluff#eren aot#eren fluff#eren x black fem!reader#eren#eren jeager x reader#eren x you#eren x reader#eren yeager#eren fanfiction#eren yeager x y/n#eren yeager x reader#eren yaeger x reader#eren jeager x y/n#eren jeager x you#eren jeager aot#eren jeager fluff#eren fic#attack on titan x female reader#attack on titan x black reader#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan x you
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Painted Red 🖤
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader (f)
Words: 3444 words
Ao3 Link
Summary: When a new sandy-haired Deputy Sheriff arrives in town, you can't figure out why he gives you and the other Working Girls so little attention. It becomes your mission to figure him out and hopefully make some money along the way.
Warnings: 18+ minors dni, eventual smut, sex work, period typical attitudes, strangers to lovers, medium honor Arthur Morgan, angst, mutual pining, Deputy Callahan.
Thanks to @rivetingrosie4, @redwritr & @shootybangbang for all your help on this story and for being dreamy angels.
Chapter One - The Deputy
[chapter 2]
“Guess who’s downstairs!” a voice interrupts from behind your door.
The autumn sun sits heavy in the sky, casting a warm pink haze that spills in through your bedroom window. You were supposed to start your shift an hour ago, but instead, you are here, sprawled out on your bed, hair undone, counting the money from the evening before. Muffled notes from the piano downstairs drift softly into your room. You inhale deeply on your cigarette, resenting all things that pull you away from these precious sleepy moments before you have to head downstairs. Make conversation. Smile. Perform.
Timekeeping has never been your strong suit, and you have lost count of the times Lulu had threatened to dock your tips for tardiness. These were empty threats, of course. You knew your position was secure - Even if Lulu liked to kick up a fuss in front of the other girls.
Brow furrowed, you take another drag from your cigarette. $15. $75 total from the week so far. Money hadn’t been flowing as freely as it had done seasons past. The drought had hit everyone hard, and you knew, sure enough, if the boys were feeling it in the tobacco fields, it wouldn’t be long till you were feeling it in the cat house, too. Seemed everyone was praying for rain. Still, Saturday meant full pay packets and men eager to let loose after the working week - something you were more than happy to help them with.
“Who!?” you call out, just as Minnie peeps her head around your door.
“Christ! You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge ass backwards! Lulu’s been askin' after you?”
You hum in response, dragging a comb through the bird's nest atop your head sweeping it up into a loose bun. “Who's got you all giddy? Surely not some John?”
“That new Deputy’s back!”
You roll your eyes. “How big’s the pot now?”
“$5. $5.25, if you still fancy your chances”, Minnie smirks, perching herself at the foot of your bed, watching as you put the last of your face on. “but Ida says she’s out. She don’t wanna waste more time on a Trick who don’t want tricking.”
“Tricks always want to be tricked,” you say, rooting through the collection of bills and coins laid out haphazardly across your bed, handing Minnie 25¢, which she slips into her coin purse.
Men were mostly the same. Sure, some might pretend to be respectable in the streets with their wives or taking their mothers to church on a Sunday, but you’d had every colour and creed between your legs. This deputy would be no different, and you were going to relish claiming the prize pot for yourself.
With a final drag of your cigarette, you smooth out your skirts and collect the pile of money on your bed, stashing it in your linen drawer - making a mental note to deposit it in the parlour safe before the night was out. Keeping that much money in your room is foolish, and if you were more sensible, you would deposit your tips between each John. But then you’d miss out on watching the pile grow. Evidence of your labour, your time, your craft. It wasn't like you worried you wouldn’t get it back as soon as requested - Lulu’d always been good about things like that, but to hand it over before you’d even had the chance to feel the paper fully in your palm seemed like it would make it less real somehow.
You turn to Minnie-
“You ready?”
“Girl, I’ve been waiting on you!”
“Let’s give that deputy the night of his life.”
-
Although the sun is yet to set in the sky, the house is already live with music and laughter, the mezzanine balcony providing the perfect vantage point to assess what the evening might have in store. There are men fresh from the fields playing Faro, Lemoyne Raiders several whiskeys deep, a few of the younger, more boisterous Grays and the creepy gunsmith, Mister Feeney. Not amazing pickings, but not dire either. Then you spot him, sitting quietly on the table closest to the door, hat pulled low, scribbling something furiously into some book. An odd sight, all considered. You weren’t sure most of the men in this town could read, let alone write.
Minnie squeezes your arm before descending the spiralled staircase, the Deputy firmly in her sights. You lean back to watch as she glides effortlessly across the room—a vision in teal silk taffeta.
As you settle onto your hip, the fine hairs on your neck abruptly stand to attention as the air pressure changes behind you.
“So kind of you to grace us with your presence.” Lulu’s voice drips thick with syrupy disdain. Smile remaining tight. Never in front of the guests.
“Punctuality is a virtue of the bored, Miss Lulu.” You smile sweetly.
She’s not impressed.
“Just get to work. Make Some Money.”
As you look back down to the floor below, a dispirited Minnie is walking away from the Deputy, his nose still firmly in his book. You bristle slightly. Did this man think himself better than the women who worked here? Sure, he was paying for drinks, but a man could drink at home if he was looking for solitude. In a parlour house, it was polite, proper even, to tip the girls, whether you require our services or not. And if the deputy didn’t know this etiquette, you were more than happy to educate him. Prize pot be damned.
It was your turn to make the night’s debut down the curve of the parlour’s stairs, something that on an ordinary night, you liked to draw out for as long as possible. Feel the eyes of each man gaze up at your form like they were watching a goddess descending from heaven, blessing them with your time. True power. But tonight, it takes everything in you not to stomp down the last few steps onto the floor.
That cad still isn’t paying you a lick of attention.
“Deputy.” Your voice comes out curter than you intend as you reach him. You hope Lulu isn’t close enough to overhear.
“Maybe another time, Darlin” " the man responds without looking up.
Make conversation.
“Deputy” You try again. “Are you aware of the price on your head?”
The sound of pencil scratching comes to a halt as he turns to face you. To your surprise, you notice that he was drawing rather than writing as he snaps the leather-bound book shut—the sound startling your gaze upwards to meet his own. And for the first time, you take in the scale of the man. Built like an Ox with broad shoulders and a barrel chest, upon which the words ‘Deputy Sheriff’ shine out from his silver badge. From this proximity, he looks unlike any lawman you’ve seen.
He watches you intently as though trying to predict your next move - eyes a piercing shade of azure blue, locked dangerously onto your own. You have his full attention, but now you’re unsure if you want it.
“Excuse me?”
You swallow and try to make your next words lighter in tone.
Smile.
“Nearly five and a half dollars, in fact.”
His shoulders loosen ever so slightly. Eyes still on you but less predacious, perhaps even the suggestion of a smirk beginning to form at the corner of his mouth.
“Five and a half dollars? That’s some bounty. What I do, rob a bank?”
“Worse,”
He rubs his jaw.
“Oh?”
“You got five whores questioning our faculties. There’s a sweep on which lucky lady’s gonna be the first to get you upstairs, but so far, no one’s got as far as your name.”
A low rasp of a laugh passes the Deputy’s lips, and you feel a sense of relief as the danger in the air dissipates. Bluntness- this man responds to bluntness. And you wonder if you can hold his attention long enough to work your magic.
Perform.
“There are normally two reasons a man mightn’t want to lay with a girl like me…”
You pause for effect, starting to have fun now.
“He’s broke. Though that don’t stop most from pushin’ their luck. Or they’re queer.”
The Deputy straightens and clears his throat. There is something delightful about making a man like this squirm, and you can’t help but sense that he may be enjoying it too.
“So which is it, Deputy?”
You give him your most innocent of smiles. Hand finding purchase upon the swell of his shoulder, knowing full well that its removal could signal the latter of your accusations. You are being cruel now.
There is a moment of hesitation before the man can find the words to respond. Your unassuming smile not giving him an inch of wiggle room. Thumb beginning to make slow circles atop his shirt.
“I-It’s just not really my thing. Payin' for it, I mean. Not that I can’t, or - or-”
“Oh? There’s some third thing I ain’t privy to? A sweetheart somewhere you’re keeping true for?”
“Not really, no.”
A hint of regret in his voice.
“Then why deny yourself a bit of company?”
You notice the tips of his ears turn pink and leave his lack of an answer to hang in the air for a moment before taking pity-
“Don’t worry, I’m just teasin’, but you ought to know it’s customary to buy a girl a drink, even if you ain’t planning on laying with her. We all have to make a living, Deputy, and this is my house.”
And you're not sure if it’s out of a sense of gratitude at you relenting your line of questioning or because he has started to enjoy the warmth from your hand on his shoulder, but that’s when he motions for the barkeeper to bring two drinks over to the table.
Your eyes dart over to Minnie, who is sat between two Grays. She throws you an encouraging wink, and you become keenly aware of the four other sets of eyes watching too. This is the furthest any of you has got with this man, and a wave of responsibility washes over you. You are going to earn that $5.25 plus the additional $5 when he fucks you. You feel foolish for ever doubting your ability in the first place. A man is a man, is a man.
“Ethel White”, you hold out your hand “but call me Ettie.”
“Arthur Callahan.”
Arthur.
He nods to the chair across from him as he removes the leather book from the table and puts it away in his satchel. You pull out the chair next to him instead, purposefully pinning him between you and the wall.
“Christ woman, you ain’t coy, are you?” he laughs, removing his hat, revealing a sandy crop of hair.
Without his hat, you are better able to take in the details of his face: the strong brow, the crook of a nose broken one too many times, a smattering of sunspots across his crown. Quite handsome, you think to yourself, a welcome change from the interchangeable looks of the Grays or Braithwaites who make up the bulk of your clientele.
“Not at all,” you smirk. “Besides, I want to take a look at what you were scribbling away at in that book. Must be awfully interesting to hold your attention so well.” You glance down at the journal now peeking out the top of his satchel. “Is that watercolour paper?”
“Huh?”
“Watercolour paper, you know, to stop the paint seeping through and spoiling the rest of the pages? I saw you were drawing and-”
He looks at you then, and you can see a slight flicker of shame cross his face momentarily. The feeling of someone pointing out the unfamiliar to a previously known thing, changing it somehow, making it less your own. You feel guilty. Watching him squirm was fun, but you never intended to make him feel foolish.
“I don’t paint. It’s for sketching mostly, keepin' track of the people and places I’ve been.”
“You do a lot of travelling, Deputy?”
“A bit.”
That instinct again, that there is more to this man than meets the eye. The lawman artist a walking contradiction.
“What do you paint then?”
His question catches you off guard. Men like to be asked about themselves. They rarely ever show interest in you. A prick of heat flushes across your cheeks, and you hope the rouge of false abashment covers its authentic companion. It’s you who is in control here - not him, goddammit. But his face is filled with genuine curiosity, like he wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t interested, and that’s what puzzles you further.
“Um, landscapes mostly, but I prefer painting people.” The words spill out before a filter of allurement or double entendre can be applied. “It’s just difficult to get people to sit for any length of time. Though I’ve painted all the girls here at some point or another.”
“Where’d ya learn?”
And that is a question too far.
You’d been gifted a great many things over the years, some thoughtful, most not, and learned the hard way how easily something given could be taken away. You’re art though, no one could take that. You wondered sometimes if that had been an oversight when you’d been promised lessons. The techniques acquired the only remaining thing worth a damn apart from your horse. Leftovers from another life.
“Don’t change the subject, Deputy. Are you going to show me your sketches or not?” Before you can stop yourself, you are leaning over him to grab at his satchel, totally aware that the danger this man displayed to you only moments earlier still lies just below the surface. With lightning-quick reflexes, he grabs the wrist of your right hand, firm in his warning. Do not push me, girl. But you have never been one to know when to stop. Your eyes are locked onto him as your breath comes in quick and heavy to your chest; You notice his start to slow. He’s read you like a book. Left hand spearing from under the table to meet your secondary attack, pinning it against his thigh.
You look down at your fingers splayed out under the weight of his own. Knuckles scarred and calloused from a lifetime of work not typically required by law enforcement. The warmth from his thigh radiates beneath your palm, and it takes everything in you not to edge your fingers closer to the source of his heat.
He meets you with an expression you struggle to place. Not anger - though you couldn’t blame him if it was. Amusement maybe?
“Think careful about your next move now, Miss. I wouldn't want to have to arrest you for larceny.”
You give him your widest of smiles and look carefully over your shoulder behind you. And as though suddenly clocking the inference of your shared position, Arthur lowers your right hand so it rests on the table rather than in the air. The grip still firm.
“If I let you go, will you behave?”
“Will you show me your drawings?”
“Woman-” But he doesn’t say no.
“I’ll behave.”
He looks at you, trying to figure out whether he trusts you.
“I promise.”
Gaze still set, he experiments loosening the grip on your wrist and then shadows the hand on his thigh - awaiting any sudden movements. You hold still. And for a moment, you see him grapple with himself as though he can’t quite believe what he is about to do. He releases you fully, and you take back your right hand, leaving your left firmly in place.
“Now, if I show you, you gotta promise not to go grabbin'? There’s stuff a man should be able to keep private.”
You nod.
He grins as he bucks his thigh, dislodging your rooted palm.
“Hands behind your back.”
With a playful huff you acquiesce, putting both arms behind you as though bound and look back at him coquettishly. And although he feigns disinterest at the way this new position pushes forward the peak of your chest, you catch his eyes dart across them, guilty in their haste.
He removes the leather-bound journal from his satchel, smoothing open two pages carefully on the table.
“Here. But that’s your lot.”
Spread across both pages is a beautifully rendered sketch of the parlour’s exterior, and you don’t know how to react. He stiffens slightly beside you.
“Just a silly doodle,” he says, moving to close the book. Clearly reading your quietness for disappointment, disgust, something else?
“Wait-”
To see the parlour captured in such effortless detail; The ornate carvings of the porch where you take your morning coffee, the Virginia Creeper that had to be cut back for fear it’d engulf the entire house, the hanging baskets of petunias that Lulu so lovingly tended to - feels exposing in a way you’d not expected. What other unnoticed minutiae had his perceptive eyes picked up on?
“It’s beautiful. You’ve captured it just right.” You half-whisper.
“Ain’t as good as a paintin’.”
“Different thing entirely, but if you can draw like this, I’m sure you’d make a fine painter.”
He gives you the smallest of smiles as you catch sight of Lulu’s permeating glare as she sweeps down the central staircase. You are on the clock. If he’s not biting, move on. And you remember you are not here to discuss painting or art unless it serves your more explicit purpose.
“See that top window at the back?” You make sure to graze his arm as you remove one hand from behind your back, bringing it slowly to the open page.
“That’s my bedroom.”
“Oh?”
“Might you like to come up and see some of my work?”
You can see him contemplating the thought over in his mind, and you start to wonder if there really is some poor woman he is betrothed to… or perhaps your prior insinuation was correct, for you have never met a man so ill at ease at being in close proximity to a woman-
“Mister Callahan!”
You are both pulled away from each other's gaze as you turn to face your intruder. Sheriff Gray. And you are up and on your feet in an instant. Eyes twinkling with faux excitement to welcome this invader of fun, spoiler of all things delightful and new. Arthur straightens to attention.
“I see you’ve met Ettie. Ain’t she a peach? I hope she’s been treatin’ you with all the hospitality we here at Rhodes can offer.” As he slurs his words, it is clear he’s already halfway soaked and once again, you feel Lulu’s watchful eyes on the back of your neck. You have a responsibility to your house, and Sheriff Gray isn’t any regular John. To keep him placated is to keep the house protected, and it is your duty to ensure the Sheriff remains happy and drunk, coddled and empty.
“Oh, stop it!” You coo in his ear, wrapping your arm up tightly in his. Voice layered thick with honey.
The shine on his breath hits like a train, bringing tears to your eyes that you mask by nuzzling your head to his shoulder. He sags heavy on your hip, oblivious.
“You didn’t tell me you’d hired such a handsome new Deputy-''
Arthur shifts in his seat, and you wonder what detail of your performance his observant eyes have picked up on.
“You keepin’ secrets from me, Sheriff? Or do you just want me all to yourself?”
“I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t.” Sheriff Gray hiccups and turns to face Arthur. “Do you mind if I accompany the lady upstairs?”
Arthur stands, towering over the Sheriff by quite some measure and places his hat back atop his head.
“Course not. You both enjoy your evening. I’ve to be headin' back anyway.”
For a second, your eyes meet Arthur’s, but his expression is impenetrable. The Sheriff speaks again.
“Safe travels, Deputy. Rhodes is honoured to have such honest men like you and Mr Mackintosh about. Your work rootin’ out that shine is already being felt around the county.”
Arthur nods. The effects of the shine are certainly being felt.
He hiccups again. “Don’t be a stranger, now.”
“Don’t be a stranger.” You repeat, all traces of the sickly sweet affect gone from your voice. You yip as the Sheriff swats your backside, but you keep your head high, eyes still held on this curious lawman artist.
Don’t be a stranger.
“Miss.” Deputy Callahan touches the brim of his hat as you lead Sheriff Gray upstairs to your room.
#rdr2#arthur morgan#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan smut#arthur morgan x fem!reader#arthur morgan x female reader#arthur morgan x reader#rdr2 fanfic#rdr2 smut#arthur morgan x you#arthur morgan x oc#painted red
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Ko-fi thank-you sentences for an anon; a fake cryptid and a real romantic.
“I think I’m gonna try making him a ruby and do that in a trilliant cut,” Superboy says decisively, which isn’t necessarily much progress towards “normal” friend-making but again, Clark doesn’t want to discourage either a hobby or a creative outlet for the kid. Or just literally anything that isn’t about being a superhero, even if the trilliant cut resembling the S-shield and making friends with a vigilante are only sort of “not about being a superhero”.
Look, the kid’s six months old and was educated by ethically bankrupt scientists and absolutely exhausted grad student interns, absolutely none of whom had either normal childhoods or an interest in instilling any semblance of “normal” in their cloned Superman’s head. Clark’s not going to be picky here, he’s just gonna meet him where he’s at and go from there.
Superboy has some unfortunate difficulties understanding the difference between celebrity attention versus genuine admiration and things like that, and also an unfortunate tendency towards causing a lot of unnecessary property damage and jumping to conclusions and temper issues, but he tries, and he clearly does think about things. There’s just a lot to figure out in the world, and he’s had to do it in speed-run mode and while being an active superhero.
Really, Clark thinks the kid’s doing a lot better as a superhero than he would’ve done at his “age”, and he’d actually been that “age”. Superboy is frankly just about the best-case scenario that could’ve come out of a situation like Cadmus and also mercifully only seems to be minimally traumatized by the sorry excuse for a “childhood” he was provided, so . . .
“That sounds nice,” Clark says, smiling at him. “I’m sure you’ll do a good job with it.”
“I’m gonna do a good job with it if it fucking kills me,” Superboy says, looking determined, which seems like a lot of intensity to put into making a gift for a friend, but again: six months old and educated by ethically bankrupt scientists. Clark is going to stick with the “meeting him where he’s at” approach.
“Just do your best to start, maybe,” he says wryly, reaching over to pat the kid’s shoulder. Superboy grins at him, his expression turning pleased.
“I will!” he says. “Wanna see some of the test ones?”
“Sure,” Clark says, figuring Superboy will just–
Nope, no, Superboy just immediately stuck both hands into his jacket pockets and came up with two big fistfuls of a good dozen high-quality diamonds done in trilliant cuts. Very large diamonds.
Heavens to Betsy, Clark thinks a little faintly. That is . . . that is so many diamonds for Superboy to just have in his pockets. They weren’t even zipped shut! They weren’t even buttoned!
Superboy lays his series of diamonds all out in neat little rows on the ledge, because there are enough of them to require multiple rows, and then reaches back into his pockets for a few more, because of course there are more. Clark continues to feel vaguely faint and has absolutely no idea how to point out how much money this is. Even at lab diamond rates, this is so much money. Just–so much.
At this point in his life Clark has seen entire planets made of diamond, mind, but he still grew up in smalltown Kansas as a farm kid, so there’s something about seeing quite this many virtually flawless ones just laid out on a Metropolis rooftop the same way he would’ve shown off his POG collection to his friends as a kid. Even the damn cuts are just shy of perfect.
Well, at least Superboy’s enjoying his first hobby, he supposes. But also, Jesus H. Christ.
“They look good, kid,” Clark says, smiling at him encouragingly. No need to take the wind out of his sails, obviously. Though seeing them now, it does occur to him to wonder–“Where did you get the tools?”
They must be good ones, because honestly he really wasn’t expecting results this good–or even half this good–from a six month-old teenager. Superboy could definitely ruin De Beers’s day with those.
Or their industry, again.
. . . well, it is De Beers, so . . .
“Oh, I don’t have any,” Superboy says, shaking his head. “I just use my TTK.”
Clark . . . pauses, for a moment.
Clark pauses for a long moment.
“Tactile telekinesis can cut diamond?” he asks carefully. “This precisely?”
“Yeah!” Superboy beams proudly at him. “Cool, right?”
Clark looks very, very closely at the diamonds. The cuts on them are practically atom-sharp.
Alright then, he thinks to himself even more carefully.
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