#mister j reader

[naymustdir]

sunsets for lovers💒

[cherrycocaineee]

41. Happy Birthday, Slut - Joker

*Synopsis: It’s Athena’s 19th birthday, it’s also been a complete year since she ran away with the Joker after he killed her abusive father. The Joker wants to make the day special for Athena, wants her to have a good birthday since it’s been awhile. And her birthday present…he’s got something special planned for that.*

*Warning: nsfw, 18+, dumbification, degradation, praising, rough sex, choking, restraints, legal age gap, daddy kink, semi-public sex, whatever else you wanna consider a warning lol.*

*A/N: just a reminder that I’ve changed the character name to Athena bc I had my daughter five months ago and named her Paisley.*

*Athena’s p.o.v*

Rays of sunlight pierced through a crack in the black curtains that covered the large panel glass windows in the room. I groaned, stretching my bed over the black, silk sheets. The Joker wasn’t lying beside me but that was normal most days, he was probably down in his study or something. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes before throwing my legs over the side of the bed. I flinched when I touched the cold floor. The floor was always so cold, I really needed to get some slippers.

   I push myself up and head to the master bathroom, turning the light on. I turned on the hot water before slipping out of my silk nightgown. It slipped off my body with ease, then I took off my underwear and climbed inside. Hot water cascaded down my small frame, soaking my hair as I rinsed off. I grabbed my loofah and washed my body, then moved on to washing my hair. After my shower, I turned off the water and grabbed my towel, dried off then wrapped it around me before grabbing another towel to dry my hair.

As I walked out, I noticed the bed was remade and there was an outfit sitting out on the comforter. I looked around the room but didn’t see anyone. Either Mister J or one of his henchmen, Frost, did this. I walked over to the outfit and looked at it. It was a short sleeve, red dress with white polka dots and a low v-neck; it was also thigh high and I was sure if I bent over it would live zero to the imagination. There were a pair of white platform pumps that were absolutely gorgeous, a pair of ruby red earrings, and a small white handbag. It was a lovely outfit. I threw it on before going back into the bathroom where I straightened my hair and did my makeup.

   My heels clicked against the marbled floor of the house as I walked down the stairs and headed towards Mister J’s study. Frost was just coming out when I arrived.

 “Good morning, Frost.”

He looked at me and smiled. “Good morning, Athena.”

  “Is Mister J in?”

He nodded his head before opening the door and letting me inside. I thanked him as he closed the door. Sitting behind his desk, Mister J was scribbling some stuff down on some papers; he looked up when he heard my heels. A grin stretched across his painted red lips.

  “Ah, good morning, darling.”

  He stood up from his chair and approached me, his tattooed hands immediately finding my hips. I smiled at him.

 “Good morning, Mister J.”

Mister J leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss against my lips.

 “Happy birthday,” he added against my lips.

 My eyes widened, I couldn’t believe I had forgotten my own birthday. I giggled and touched his chest, my fingertips grazing over the opening of his blood red, button up shirt as well as the ink on his pale skin. He watched me.

  “I’d completely forgotten,” I laughed.

  Mister J laughed too, his fingers touching my face before his fingers gripped my chin and he crammed his lips onto mine. He kissed me for what felt like forever but when he pulled away it felt like the kiss had barely been there.

  “Have you had breakfast yet, birthday girl?”

 I shook my head “no.” He took my hand in his and led me out of the study down to the kitchen. I smiled as he looked at me.

 “You look stunning in your new outfit, darling.” Mister J said.

 “Thank you.”

In the kitchen, Mister J gestured for me to sit down on the barstool before he started making me breakfast. I watched him cook, it was rare for him to be in the kitchen making our own meals. He’d normally tell one of the cooks to do it.

  “Well, aren’t I special,” I giggled

  “You are special, darlin’.” He grinned.

When breakfast was cooked, Mister J placed my plate in front of me and stood behind me with his arms around my waist and his head on my shoulder. The food looked amazing. He had made me waffles with fresh blueberries and strawberries on them, scrambled eggs because he knows I hate runny yolk, and some breakfast sausage. It was absolutely perfect.

 “You aren’t going to eat?” I asked him, shoving a bite of egg in my mouth.

He grinned and shook his head, “no, I’ll be saving my appetite for later this evening.”

I was about to ask him what he meant but then his hands squeezed my exposed thighs. I knew exactly what he wanted, it’s what I’ve been wanting too. Mister J and I hadn’t had sex the entire time we were together and that was because he had been so busy with so many things that he was tired. That and I was a virgin, so the thought of having sex immediately after we just got together didn’t seem appealing to me. I had been afraid that after I gave him what he wanted, he’d leave. But after awhile, I longed for him to touch every part of my body, to feel his cock inside my cunt, and the sounds he would make while he was fucking me.

  Mister J tapped on my head. I hadn’t realized I had froze in deep thought.

“What’s running through that pretty, little head of yours, Athena?” He grinned.

I chewed the remainder of the egg in my mouth before swallowing it. I turned and looked at him, our blue eyes staring into each other. God, he was handsome, no one could convince me otherwise.

  “Do you think that we could…uhm…” God this was embarrassing to ask for.

Mister J watched me intently, waiting for me to say what I was gonna say. I gulped, feeling my cheeks turn red.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” Mister J teased, “Can’t give you what you want if you don’t use those pretty words of yours.”

A tease. He was a ginormous tease. He knew exactly what I wanted.

  “Can we…can we please…please don’t make me say it.”

 “Oh, well then you must not really want it.”

Asshole.

Mister J kissed my neck and I shivered as I felt him move along my neck. His hands squeezed my thighs and I moaned. He chuckled.

 “Mister J,” I whimpered, “I need you.”

 “Need me to what, darlin’?”

 “N-need you to fuck me.”

He grinned wider than I have ever seen. He was waiting for this day just as much as I was. I bit my bottom lip and he stared longingly. He chuckled and looked at me.

 “I sure can, but you’ll have to wait for tonight after all the fun birthday things we do. Now eat your breakfast, you’ll need the energy for what I have in store for you.”

  Mister J walked away from me and headed off probably back to his office. I huffed. He was really making me wait until the end of the day, that was totally rude. I sighed and started finishing my breakfast. After I was done eating, I cleaned my dishes even though the cook insisted that she would do it. I shooed her away, telling her she does enough for me already. When I was finished cleaning my dishes, I headed to a different part of the house but was stopped by Frost.

 “Miss Athena,” he said, “Mister J has asked me to tell you to go out to the car, he’ll be waiting for you there.”

 “Oh? Are we going to his club?” I asked.

 “No, he has something different planned.”

  Frost didn’t say another word to me, he just walked away. I tilted my head and went outside to find Mister J waiting in his purple lamborghini. I approached the car, Mister J pushed the passenger’s side open for me like normal and I climbed in, closing the door.

 “Ready, princess?”

 “Where are we going?” I asked, curiously.

 “Thought you might like to go shopping, get yourself whatever you want. You don’t really spend a lot of my money, so I figured this might be a treat. I’ll go with you so I can make sure you’re actually spending a lot.”

 “You want me to spend a lot?” I asked, with wide eyes.

 “Sweetheart, if it doesn’t say you spent the length of a phone number, I’ll be quite annoyed.”

My eyes widened. He wanted me to spend that much money. I did the math in my head and gasped.

 “But the size of a phone number is like a billion dollars.”

 “Exactly.”

  Mister J started driving towards Gotham. He asked which store I’d like to go to first. I looked down at my phone wondering how the hell I was going to spend a billion dollars or if he was just exaggerating and I didn’t actually have to spend a billion. I perked up. This phone was the same phone I had since I moved to Gotham, Frost had picked it up when he went to get my belongings and kidnap my dad.

 “I would like a new phone, if that’s okay.”

 “‘Course it’s okay!” He laughed before driving me to a phone store.

People in Gotham didn’t really pay any attention to anyone unless they were being robbed or some other criminal act was being performed, mainly violence. So I wasn’t shocked when Mister J walked around the phone store with me, our hands clasped together, and no one jumped to call the police. I was looking at all the phones that they had on the floor while the Joker watched me. Finally I picked an Iphone 13 in a pink color. The Joker paid for it and we headed back to his lamborghini. For the remainder of the day, Mister J took me shopping at various different stores before taking me out to dinner later that evening. The restaurant he took me to was absolutely stunning. There was a chandelier directly above the entire restaurant that illuminated a soft glow over all the tables. Mister J and I were escorted to a VIP section so that neither one of us could be bothered. I was staring at all of the beautifully, expensive art that hung on the walls, the mahogany brown color that mixed with the egg shell white. The restaurant was gorgeous. We sat down and the waitress came in to take our order. Mister J ordered himself a large steak and I ordered myself a grilled chicken salad. I looked at Mister J.

 “Thank you, for all of this today.”

 “You’re welcome but the day’s not over and I’ve got one more thing for you.”

  He had a mischievous grin on his face and I felt my heart rate speed up. He knew what he was doing, that asshole. Our food came and we started eating while chatting about random things. I couldn’t keep my eyes from staring at him. He was handsome. From his green hair, to his ruby red lips, to his tattoos, and his muscular body. God, he wasn’t just handsome, he was sexy. I slowly chewed my food, it tasted good but I didn’t want it right now. Mister J looked up from his steak.

 “You alright, darling?” He asked, grinning.

 I didn’t answer him, I just stood up and walked over to him. I climbed into his lap and he looked at me, a grin stretched across his ruby red lips. I smiled back.

 “Someone couldn’t wait, hm? Impatient little thing.”

“How can I wait when you’re sitting across from me looking so good,” I point out.

 “Well who can argue there, doll?” He laughed, his hands moving to my hips, rubbing small circles against my exposed skin, “I can’t keep my eyes off you either.”

 “Then why are we waiting?” I whispered seductively in his ear.

Mister J ran his hands down my hips to my exposed thighs. I shivered from his touch, my eyes wandering down his exposed chest. He always wore his shirts slightly unbuttoned, giving me a perfect view of his pretty, tattooed chest. I was getting so tired of fantasizing about him fucking his cock into me while I touched myself, I needed it. I ran my fingers down his chest before I started unbuttoning his shirt exposing more of his skin. I sighed softly as I leaned down and peppered his tattooed chest with kisses, leaving behind a trail of dusky rose lipstick against his pale skin. Mister J groaned. That sent a shiver up my spine. I loved how deep his groans were even if I’ve only ever heard them when he was frustrated with his work or someone was pissing him off. This was different, this was a groan of pleasure that I was giving him.

 “Like that?” I asked, my eyelashes fluttering as I looked up at him.

 His hand went to my throat while his other stayed on my thigh. I grin as he moves closer to me.

 “You know I do, doll.”

His grip on my thigh and my throat tighten just a little bit; not enough to hurt me but enough so he was holding me tight. I could feel my cunt practically drooling. Mister J slammed his lips against mine and we kissed feverishly. I wrapped my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I moaned, his tongue running over my bottom lip before slipping it into my mouth. He tasted like steak, obviously, but I could also taste expensive scotch, smoke from his cigars, and just…him. I moaned as I grinded my hips against him, my aching cunt desperate for some type of friction. I was sure I was leaving behind a wet spot on his pants but he didn’t seem to mind. He moved his lips from mine and started kissing and sucking on my neck. I moaned again, my movements becoming rougher as I felt his hard cock through his pants.

  “So pretty,” he whispered before he lifted my dress revealing my black, lacy panties. He grinned softly. “Look at you. All ready, wrapping yourself all pretty for me.”

 I moaned at his words. He grinned and pushed my dress up more until it was completely off of my body. My black, lacy bra being revealed. He growled, his eyes darkening in desire and lust. He pulled me closer to him, his lips attaching to my own. His tongue ran over my mouth and he groaned. I gasped as he squeezed my breast, my eyes rolling back as I filled his bulge pressed against my cunt.

 “Mister J…”

 “Ah,” he interrupted, “what’s my name?”

 “Daddy,” I corrected; his grin stretching further across his face.

 “What can daddy do for you?”

 “Fuck me.”

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest as he grips my breast again and I moan. He held me close to his body, his piercing blue eyes staring into my lust filled eyes.

  “Such a dirty slut wanting me to fuck you in this restaurant,” he grinned, “you like the idea of the waiter coming back in here seeing me stuff your sweet little pussy, huh?”

 His words made my cunt even more wet. I moaned and nodded my head. Whatever got me railed sooner. Mister J pulled me off his lap, making me stand up. He got to his feet too, unclipping my bra with one hand, my breast fully exposed as he tied my wrist behind me back with my bra. The fabric was tight against my skin but I liked it. Once my hands were secured behind my back, Mister J pushed me down to my knees. His shirt was still unbuttoned, but not completely off; he unbuckles his belt and pulls it off before setting it down on his seat. I watched him with doe eyes as he undoes his pants and pulls out his cock. It’s already hard and standing at attention, the tip of his cock already leaking with precum. Drool slips past my lips and he grins.

  “Open wide for daddy, baby.”

  I don’t even hesitate or think about it, I just open my mouth. He guides his cock into my mouth and I moan as he fills my mouth. He moves his hips slowly, his cock moving in and out of my mouth each thrust getting rougher and rougher as the tip of his cock hits the back of my throat. Mister J groans as he grabs my head pushing himself deeper into my mouth. I felt tears prick at the corner of my eyes, my hands struggling in the restraints he had me in. It was my bra so you’d think the fabric would be easily tearable but not for me. Mister J growled.

 “That’s it, baby, suck daddy’s cock.”

 The back of my throat made squelching noises as he fucked my face. I felt tears stream down my face but I was enjoying every moment of it. I ran my tongue over every inch of his cock, groaning as I felt every vein that decorated his cock.

  “Fuck, you’re so good at this.”

I moaned around him. Mister J grunted before pulling me off his dick, I started gasping for air. He turns me around and pushes the food onto the floor before pushing me down on the table, my back facing him but my ass out. He grabs the fabric of my panties and rips them off, tearing the fabric easily. I moan. He kneeled down and pulled my ass cheeks apart, my eyes rolling back as he gave himself a perfect view of both my cunt and my asshole. Mister J spits on my pussy before devouring it, his tongue and mouth slurping and licking at my soaked cunt. I moaned, pressing my head against the table as he ate me out. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as he nipped my clit.

 “Oh fucking god,” I moan out, I grip the side of the table.

  Mister J keeps eating me out, his tongue pushing into my cunt. I tighten around his tongue and he growls. I try to move my hands but can’t. My legs started shaking and I knew I was about to cum.

 “Daddy,” I moaned out, “I’m gonna c-cum.”

 Mister J moved his mouth from my cunt, his chin dripping with my juices. He rubbed my clit harshly, the sound of my arousal echoing in the room mixing with both our heavy breathing. I moaned more as he looked up at me, grinning.

  “Come on, baby, cum for daddy.”

 “Oh fuck, cumming, daddy.”

  My knees buckled as I came hard, my eyes rolling back as a silent scream left my lungs. When I was done cumming, Mister J stood up and picked me up and placed me on the table, spreading my legs. I was still panting from the previous orgasm. Mister J spit on his cock before rubbing it over it and positioning himself in front of my pussy. I propped myself up the best I could so I could see him shove his cock inside me. I moaned as he pushed himself inside me, his cock stretching me out to his width. Mister J groaned.

  “Such a tight, fucking pussy, doll.”

 “Yeah, daddy?” I moan, he nods his head as he starts moving his hips faster and harder. I groan as he pounds into my cunt. Mister J reached his hand up and grabbed my throat and squeezed tightly as he fucked me. His hips moved at an animalistic speed, the table shaking back and forth, his hand on my throat was the only thing that kept me on the table.

 “Holy shit,” I moaned, “you’re so f-fucking deep.”

 Mister J grinned as he continued to fuck himself into me. I fall back on the table, my hands still secured behind my back. With each thrust, my breast bounced. Mister J leaned down and sucked on one of my nipples, the speed of his hips never faltering.

“Such a stupid whore,” Mister J growled roughly, sweat collecting on his body. My own body glistened with a small film of sweat. Mister J grabbed one of my legs and threw it over his shoulder allowing him to go deeper. My eyes rolled back and drool started spilling from my lips and collecting on the table I was one. Mister J watched me, a grin on his face as he continued to move his hips roughly. My heart was hammering inside my chest as adrenaline and pleasure soaked every inch of my nerves. I couldn’t focus on anything else, just the way he cock stretched me out and the sounds coming from my wet cunt each time he drilled himself into me.

  “Look at that,” Mister J grinned, “now we’re getting somewhere.”

 My entire body was buzzing and I was approaching my climax once again. I moaned and arched my back the best I could with my hands behind my back. The fabric of my bra rubbed my wrist raw but I didn’t care.

 “G-gonna cum,” I managed to pant out.

 “Panting?” The Joker laughed, “like a bitch in heat. You wanna cum, doll, beg me for it.”

  His words were so lewd, it was only gonna get more intense from here. I moaned and looked up at Mister J the best I could through teary eyes. I wasn’t crying from pain, but from pleasure.

 “Please, daddy, wanna cum.” I whimper.

He laughs. “You can do better than that, baby. Beg daddy and I’ll let you make a pretty mess on my cock.”

  “Daddy!” I moaned louder as he rubbed my clit at the same time as he fucked me, “f-fuck, please, please let me cum. Need it, need it so fucking bad. Wanna cum, please, please.” I didn’t care if the words made sense or anything, I just needed to cum. Mister J reached down and grabbed by my neck with his free hand and yanked me closer to him, his cock still working its magic. I moaned again.

 “Cum.” It was an order. Either I cum now or not at all. So I came hard all over his cock, my legs shaking and my eyes rolling back. I might have looked like the main character from the exorcist. A scream was ripped from my lungs as my juices coated every inch of his cock, my pussy squeezing around him. He groaned too but didn’t stop. Instead, he pulled me up and sat down on his seat.

  “Ride me.”

 “T-tired.”

  “Don’t think so, doll, you wanted to be an impatient brat, ride me.”

I moved myself up and down on his cock. His hands were on my hips as I bounced up and down. My hair bounced with the movement. My sweaty skin caused some strands to stick to me.

 “That’s it. Ride daddy.”

 “L-legs getting tired, daddy.”

  Mister J looked up at me and smacked my face, not enough to physically cause me pain but enough to tell me that he didn’t care. He was right, I wanted this now and was too impatient to wait when I got home. There was a knock on the door and I covered my mouth. Mister J laughed and pulled my hand down.

 “What is it?” He laughed.

The door opened and the waiter walked in. His eyes practically popped out of his head when he saw me riding the Joker’s cock. Mister J pulled me off of him and bent me over the table.

  “W-was just coming to check on you two,” the waiter stuttered out, I could see the growing tent in his pants.

 “Hold on a second, kid,” Mister J said, he removed one of his golden chains and wrapped it around my neck before pulling on it. Not tight but enough for the cool metal to dig into my hot skin. He slammed himself in from behind and I moaned out again. By now I knew, without actually seeing, that I was completely fucked out. The waiter’s eyes met mine, which were teary eyed and my eyeliner and mascara probably smudged to hell. 

  “See that, kid. This dumb whore likes that you’re watching her get fucked. Her pussy is practically suffocating my cock.”

 The waiter couldn’t move or say anything, he just stood there and watched; his mouth slightly open.

 “Oh my fucking…” I couldn’t even finish my sentence.

 “What a dumb slut,” Mister J laughed, “gonna cum on my dick again in front of this man?”

 “Yes daddy.”

 “Then let’s see it baby. Give this man a show.”

I moaned louder this time as I came hard on his cock for the second time, this being a total of three orgasms in I don’t know how long. Were we here for an hour, two, maybe it was closing time and that’s why the waiter came to check on us. Mister J rubbed my clit quickly and I felt a different type of pressure before I released and ended up squirting for the first time.

 “Ohhh, fuck,” I cry out.

  In front of me, the waiter now had a wet spot on his pants meaning he probably came too. Mister J smacked my ass roughly before grabbing it and continued to fuck himself into me.

 “Gonna breed this cunt, baby, ready?”

 I nod vigorously, still moaning and panting. Mister J fucked himself into my cunt a few more times before he growled and released his cum into my pussy. My eyes rolled back as I felt his entire seed push all the way inside me, deep. Mister J rutted against me, groaning as he watched my greedy pussy take all his cum before he pulled out. He zips himself back up and looks at the waiter.

 “Bring the check.”

 “Y-yes sir.” The waiter ran off and Mister J helped me to my feet.

He untied my hands from my bra and grinned down at me.

  “Get dressed doll, sorry about your panties and bra. Looks like you’ll have to walk out of here with my cum running down your leg.”

 He wasn’t actually sorry but I didn’t mind. In fact, I moaned at the thought. He wrapped his arms around me.

 “Happy birthday, sweetheart. Let’s get home so I can rough you up some more.”

 I giggled and nodded as I got dressed. Mister J paid for the food that we didn’t eat, the waiter refused to make eye contact with either one of us, and we left. I was excited to see what more he had in store for me when we got home.

Tags: @w4nt-h1s-d1ck

[teejaywyatt1]

✨Chapter 7 of Heat of the Moment will drop on Thursday, November 9th at 2:30PM EST.✨

[ivorydragoness44]

Gazerbeam x Reader: Needed

Word Count: 1,318 Warnings/Notes: Enter Bomb Voyage as he explodes into a bank and keeps tossing explosives in order for the Reader not to leave in his strange little game. Cornered Reader. Scared, yet uninjured Reader. Supers fending off the supervillain. Police arresting supervillain. Angst, hurt/comfort between the existing relationship between the Reader and Simon/Gazerbeam. Summary: The Reader was running an errand when supervillain Bomb Voyage flips their day upside down. At least a trio of supers can be relied upon to save the citizens in their time of need.

~~~~  ~~~~  ~~~~  ~~~~

 A quick trip to the bank. A simple errand that could have been one of the most mundane of your activities for the day. It was only one check to deposit. The teller was kind, one of the few genuine smiles that you saw that day. How the rest of your day would play out was beyond your perception.  Double checking your wallet, you tucked it safely away into your bag as you made your way toward the exit. A smile begged to return to your face at the thought of your plans. However, the explosion off to your left wiped away all such thoughts.  The occupants of the building jumped and cried out in their alarm. Out from the cloud of dust and debris walked in a tall striped shirted man. Bomb Voyage.  With your heart-rate increasing, you observed his occupied state; fiddling with his equipment. Inhaling deeply, you made a mad dash to the set of doors. The outdoors looked much more enticing, and safe, than usual.  A streak of color entered your vision before the doors ahead of you sprung off their hinges, halting you.  “No, no, no,” the oddly playful accent called out.  You grimaced, wishing that he had ignored you altogether. That, and you were beginning to regret not investing more time into other languages.  But then, he chuckled. Pacing around to see your face, he laughed again and smiled.

  Your stomach sank at the sight. In the depths of your mind you could only hope that someone had already made a very important phone call. The interest he seemed to have gained upon seeing you was unnerving. Terribly so. The way his painted face twisted with his words made your skin crawl.  When he stepped closer, you stepped away. And so began a strange dance around the room. You did not want him near you, much less a no exit scenario.  His hands moved to his belt again. With quick fingers, he activated and tossed another grenade as you could only stare.  Jumping from the startling loud noise, your legs carried you one way, but then another as he tossed a second one. The reactions from the other citizens went unnoticed by you. Clearly, you were more than a little occupied at the moment to take notice. However, you felt your blood run cold when your back hit something hard. A teller booth. One of the situations you never wanted: to be cornered.  Bomb Voyage closed in, the sound of his shoes across the floor echoing in your ears. The black of his shirt and criss-cross belt on his chest appeared to blur together as you stared. Though as much as your heart pounded, there was a change. Your jaw clenched, and your fingernails pierced against your skin. Your day had been going rather well, and this crafty villain decided to try to ruin your day?  Subtly, you brought one of your legs back. If you were going to go down, he would first.  He stared down at you, saying something beyond your comprehension. When his mouth opened again, someone in the room shouted.  “Supers!”  Everyone, including Bomb Voyage, turned to look. Jogging into readied stances, stood Frozone, Mister Incredible, and Gazerbeam.  As your heart leapt at the sight, so did your knee. The unamused villainous mime buckled over with a surprised groan of pain. Scurrying away from him, you ran straight, avoiding Frozone’s ice blast.  “Great shot,” Mister Incredible complimented as you ran toward them.  “Well, he’s hunched over at the moment,” Frozone shrugged.  As you pivoted behind Gazerbeam, he likewise adjusted his footing, shielding you with his body. With your hands to his back, you peered around his shoulder. Bomb Voyage’s feet were iced to the floor. A part of you wanted to shout in victory against him, but you decided against it. You did not think that the super in front of you would appreciate you yelling into his ears, helmet or not.  However, maybe Frozone should have iced a bit more. Bomb Voyage reached for his belt again. When the explosive was in his grasp and in the supers’ sight, a red beam of light blasted it out of his hand. The explosive went off much closer than the villain had intended, staggering him.  As Mister Incredible walked over to apprehend him, you missed the rest. Your focus shifted in your sense of safety. You became hyperaware of your closeness with Gazerbeam. Under your palms, you could not recognize the material of his suit. It was unique. The texture made it feel custom made. And by the way it fit on his body, made you believe it wholeheartedly.  He was tense beneath your fingertips. At the ready. Never had you seen him in such a state, especially so close.  Sirens soon whirled outside. In a matter of moments, the officers headed indoors cautiously as they observed the scene.  “Are you all right?” Gazerbeam asked, turning around to face you. His gloved hands came up to barely touch your arms. The gentleness nearly melted you.  “A little shook up,” you nodded away the remnants of your uneasiness, “but otherwise unharmed.”  No smile came as he briefly looked around. “You should leave,” he urged, “just in case Bomb Voyage tries a failed effort to avoid arrest.”  “Okay,” you squeaked, not meaning to.  Too soon, Gazerbeam’s hands left your arms. As he turned halfway toward the ongoing scene, you waited for his signal. When Bomb Voyage’s attention pointed him in the opposite direction than the pair of you, Gazerbeam spoke up again.  “Go, now. Hurry,” he nodded toward the doors, a hand pressing the small of your back.  Nimbly, you slipped out of the bank and down the sidewalk. With your legs pushing forward with increasing speed, you never looked back.

 Your apartment, your home, your sanctuary. The relief you had when you had entered and locked the door behind you was immense.  Time had passed, and you remained waiting. Staring out the window became oddly meditative, to ease your mind from racing through what-if scenarios.  The familiar rhythm of footsteps brought you back to the present.  “Sweetheart, are you home?” A smooth voice called out softly.  Your heart leapt and the corner of your eyes began to sting. Turning, you saw Gazerbeam entering the bedroom. All too frantically, you pulled shut the thin curtain to shield yourselves from prying eyes, and ran over to him.  Removing his helmet, he placed it down on the closest surface to embrace you. He held you just as tightly. It was rare to interact with you while he was still wearing his supersuit, but that detail did not matter right now.  “Oh, Simon,” you shook in your sobs, “I was so frightened. He threw so many explosives. I didn’t know what to do.” With your face buried in his chest, you barely felt as your tears rolled down his suit. The arms that held you to him was what you savored. It was as if his arms alone held the power to keep you from breaking altogether. “Thank you for saving me.”  “You saved yourself,” he said, a single hand drawing small reassuring circles along your back. “Have to you already forgotten the way you struck him into a state of immobility to escape?” Was there a hint of a smile in his words?  You pried yourself away from him enough to see his face. “You still showed up,” you sniffled, “and for that, I am grateful.”  With eyes dancing across your face, he gave a small smile and pulled you back to him. “I’m glad I did,” Simon whispered, kissing the top of your head.  There were benefits to being romantically involved with a Super. The downside, just as any ordinary citizen came dressed up in a ridiculous suit and bottled with an attitude and a twisted sense of morality.

~~~~  ~~~~

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this Gazerbeam / Simon J Paladino fanfiction. If you’d like, you can check out the others on my masterlists.

[a-soft-hornytiny]

Use it.

Summary: Mingi has a huge dick but is shy about it and has no idea what to do with it. 

Word count: 1.7k+

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Mingi x female!reader

Warnings: porn without plot, sub!mingi, virgin!mingi, kinda dom!reader, hand job, blow job, riding, teasing, slight begging, unprotected sex, cumming, dirty talk, breeding (let me know if I missed something) be careful while reading. 

Notes: uhmmm @star1117-archives miles you are a genius. I hope this is to your liking. Thank you for the request hehe

Taglist: under the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

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You couldn’t believe your eyes. Mister “I’m so cool and sexy” Mingi was sitting in front of you, blushing hard and not even able to form a proper sentence as you wide-eyed stared at his monster cock. Two reasons why you were completely overwhelmed. 

One: His dick was the biggest you had ever seen and you were genuinely worried if you could take him.

And two: Mingi. The man that never got shy when you teased each other. The man that never flinched away when it got heated. The man that obviously knew about his own sex appeal, was flustered as soon as you pulled down his pants. 

“I uhmm.” Your voice cracked while you got on your knees, now sitting between his legs. You wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, making him flinch. “You are…” Your second hand was now embracing the middle part of his length, his tip still being uncovered. “You are huge.” You stated in awe. 

You expected him to smile, laugh or make a joke of any kind, but instead he covered his face in his hands and let out a pretty pathetic whine. He was embarrassed. “I-I’m sorry I should- should have warned you.” He stuttered an apology as he tried to turn away from you. But you stopped him.

“You’re sorry?” You couldn’t help but laugh out loud. That was not what you had expected. Packed men were usually pretty proud of what they got but he.. it was almost like he-

“You’ve had sex before right?” You asked, already sensing the answer. However you couldn’t suppress the need to gently squeeze his length with both of your hands. 

He immediately whined again. His whole body was squealing and it was obvious that he was trying to avoid the answer. “Mingi.” You said, a certain strictness in your voice. “If you don’t answer then I will stop immediately.” 

He instantly shook his head. You smirked. From all the time you had spent together you would’ve never gathered that you were the experienced one of you both. You still remembered that time when he wore this nearly see through, skin tight, dark blue shirt under a shimmering leather jacket and fitting pants. That whole fit screamed Sex.

“Not.. not really.” Mingi finally dared to look at you. “J-Just some petting a few years ago.” He admitted but the glance he sent you, made you weak. His eyes were begging for you to stay and continue. To try and stuff yourself with his enormous cock. 

“Okay.” You took a deep breath. “I can show you how to work this.” You gestured to the twitching dick right in front of you. He nodded, still ashamed. You scooted forward slightly and took his shaft into your hand. 

“Listen. While you’re in my mouth, it’s important that you don’t move. I don’t know how much I can take but it’s important that I can control it.” Your voice was soft. You sent him a little smile as he nodded before you lowered your head - even though you didn’t really need to lower it to reach him - and opened your mouth. 

Your heart was beating up to your throat as you took him in. Inch by inch. He was not only big but also girthy, which made the corners of your mouth hurt slightly. You were breathing through your nose slowly as his tip reached the back of your mouth. Half of his length was still uncovered so you took your hand to help. 

During the whole process, Mingi didn’t make a sound, which you didn’t notice since you were concentrating on “not choking”. When you finally felt comfortable to move you looked up to him, and immediately let him slide out of your mouth again. You couldn’t help but giggle as he sharply inhaled.

“When I said don’t move, I didn’t mean don’t breathe.” His face was flushed. “But otherwise it's hard not to..” He murmured, avoiding eye contact as he buried his hands deeper into the bedsheets. 

“Come on. I want to hear your pretty sounds, big boy.” You teased him before you pushed him onto his bed. He was now lying beneath you, his dick painted with your saliva and his cheeks the color of a summer sunset. 

In the course of the hot make-out session you had before, you had already lost most of your clothing, which meant that as you were straddling him he could see every single detail of your body. And he loved it. His eyes were following your every movement and he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

And you were still confused about the contrast. Just about 20 minutes ago he had no problem ripping your clothes off of your body and relentlessly sucking on your skin with his plumb lips. He had let out the deepest sexiest groans while his lips crashed onto yours and now he was rock hard, shy and whiny. 

“I need your support now.” You said softly before positioning his hands on your waist. He nodded again but it was clear that he wasn’t 100% listening. His eyes were fidgeting all over your body, unable to find one spot to focus on. 

Without much hesitation you grabbed his dick again and positioned his tip at your wet entrance. You were very glad that you had prepared yourself for this, even though you weren’t sure if it was enough anymore. Then you slowly sat down.

The moment his tip touched your folds, both of you let out a loud groan. It was finally happening. Both of you had anticipated this for weeks. The sexual tension between you ever since your first date was ripping apart the air any time you were in a private space and you wondered why you hadn’t already jumped him before.

He started stretching you out, causing you to cry out in pleasure. His head was thrown back, pressed into the mattress, but his grip on your waist was strong. And then you passed the first 4 inches. You immediately felt how your body was protesting, sending a sharp pain through your whole body, making you whine.

“Are you okay?” Mingi instantly helped to push you up again. His eyes were big, shimmering with worry. You smiled slightly.

“Yes, it’s fine. I knew it was going to hurt, don't worry.” You reassured him before continuing to move downward. “But- but I don’t want ahhh-“ he wanted to protest but he interrupted himself with a filthy moan as his dick disappeared deeper and deeper in your warmth. 

You whined with every single movement. He felt him grind against your walls, stretching you out deeply. It was painful, but at the same time, the best thing you had felt in awhile, and the longer it took the easier it was. Slowly adjusted to his length and girth, you sat down completely. Your hands were resting on his chest, your fingernails digging into his skin. You want to be gentle, but he didn’t mind. All he saw was this you on top of him, tears running down your face as his dick fully disappeared inside you.

“Is it okay?” He wanted to sit up to caress your cheek, but you immediately push him down again. “Don’t move. It’s- it’s getting better.. fuck!” You moaned as the pain was replaced by pleasure. Mingi was looking at you with big eyes. He was scared to hurt you, but at the same time it was driving him crazy. But he listened. He didn’t move, and if he was honest, he wouldn’t know how to anyway.

And that’s when you started to carefully rock your hips back and forth. You were still trying to find the right way to move but Mingi was already a mess. Pretty moans groans and the whines were escaping his mouth as this unknown pleasure washed over his body. 

“Fuck you’re so tight..” He tried hard not to move with you but his grip on your hips was getting stronger. “I don’t think I can take this for long.” He admitted, the redness on his face re-appearing.

“Oh, don’t worry you’re not supposed to.” You wanted to sound teasing but everything that escaped your mouth was breathy. He was hitting places that never had been touched before. You clenched around him, as you felt his pre-cum leak into you.

“No seriously I mean I-“ His moans grew louder as you picked up the pace of your movements. 

Your mind went blank. The amount of pure ecstasy that was running through your body was immense, numbing. You wanted him to fill you up, not only with his cock but with his cum. 

“Cum for me.” You moaned, getting lost in your own pleasure. But Mingi couldn’t relax.

“Are you sure? I- sure? Isn’t that kinda.. dangerous?” He stuttered, trying hard not to cum then and there. You groaned. Now he’s overthinking it?

You leaned forward, setting kisses onto his skin until you reached his face. Your lips were hovering over his. 

“Come on good boy. Fill me up. Give me your precious cum.” You whispered before pressing your lips onto his. You moaned into each other’s mouths as you started moving again. Mingi was completely overwhelmed by your words but they showed an effect immediately. 

“Faster.. please..” He murmured against your lips and you let out a chuckle. “I didn’t know you could beg.” You responded, listening to him still. Your hips were now moving at the steady but fast pace and you could feel him twitch inside of you. 

“Yes.. Yes this is it.. I’m ahh I’m cu-cu-“ Mingi couldn’t help but buckle up his hips as his orgasm washed over him, making you cry out. “I’m cumming!” He whined while painting your insides white. You felt so full. Physically. You helped him ride out his high and just as he relaxed, you started moving again. He instantly cried out in overstimulation. 

“Now I’ll show you how you can use this huge dick of yours for good.” 

—————

Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives

——————

[de4dlyniightshade]

Maeve i had a little idea in my head that i wanted to share w you x

You and Spencer cuddling and he gets all needy and needs to put his dick in you but you don't feel like doing it so instead you compromise on cockwarming. He gets on top of you while doing it and you continue to caress his head and back (i'm torturing myself w these thoughts help)

꩜ PAIRING: spencer reid x afab!reader

꩜ RATING: +18, mdni

꩜ WARNINGS/CONTAINS!: cockwarming, needy!spence, subby spence, morning shenanigans, spencer being a little bit feral and forgetting how big(😏)he is, grinding/dry humping, reader mentioned to be smaller than spencer but can be taken as just height wise.

© to de4dlyniightshade. no translations/reposts.

[WARNING!] - explicit sexual content! mdni!

A/N: i always forget that blurbs aren't supposed to be perfect but i also feel bad putting out mediocre stuff😔

spencer felt bad for being so needy so early in the morning but the dream he woke up from had him throbbing in his pants and he just couldn't help but wrap his arm around your waist and press himself into your back, his hard length slotting perfectly between your ass.

he gently rolled his hips into your plush ass, placing soft kisses on your shoulder as he did, breathy moans and whimpers slipping past his lips as he shallowly rutted into you.

"spence, if you're trying not to wake me you're doing a really shit job" you laughed sleepily, lifting your hand to hold the back of his head as he rested his forehead on the nape of your neck, still gently grinding into you.

"n-need you" he breathed, his hips snapping into you as he let out a shaky whimper, nuzzling his face into you.

"it's 6 in the morning, spencer" you sighed, halfheartedly trying to move away from him but with no real intention of making him stop.

"please..." he whined, grinding particularly hard into you and squeezing your waist, "j-just- wanna feel you" he breathed against your neck, pressing an open mouthed kiss there, followed by another and another.

you let out a fake sigh, rolling onto your back and turning to face him, the small amount of sunlight peeking through the curtains illuminating his face just enough for you to see the needy expression on his features, his pleading eyes looking down at you.

"alright alright" you you mumbled, shaking your head as you lifted your hips off the bed, hooking your fingers into the waistband of your underwear and tugging them down your legs, dropping them on the floor as spencer quickly moved between your parted thighs, pulling the front of his plaid pyjama pants down just enough to free his length.

"slow down there, mister" you giggled breathily, pressing your hand to his chest to stop him as he tried to surge forward, desperate to bury his cock in you but your hand on his chest didn't stop him from gripping your hips and tugging you down the bed, quickly moving to hold the base of his length and guide his tip to your entrance, pushing in all at once.

spencer choked out a moan as you gasped loudly, the stinging of him stretching you out without any prepping making your thighs clamp around his waist, your eyes screwing shut as the dull throbbing wracked your body.

"spence!" you scolded as your walls clenched and spasmed around him, desperately trying to adjust to the abrupt stretch.

"s-sorry, 'm sorry" he whined, dropping his forehead to your chest as he breathed heavily, his hands squeezing your waist to keep himself composed, his larger frame doubled over on top of you reminding you that he wasn't as small as you made him feel and he could actually overpower you whenever he wanted.

"j-just feel s-so good- d-did't mean to h-hurt you" he whimpered against your skin, his voice strained as your walls surrounded him, constricting his sensitive cock so nicely.

"i know, i know, j-just lay down, careful" you instructed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, spencer slowly and carefully, like you'd told him, lay down on top of you, resting his cheek on your breasts as you hissed slightly at the feeling of his cock shifting in you.

you let out a quiet sigh as the dull pain subsided and all that was left was the feeling of him filling you so nicely, your walls wrapped tightly around his length, his tip brushing cervix and you couldn't help but let out a breathy whine as you let your fingers comb through his hair and stroke down his back.

[babeyun]

what’s the 411? ✩ masterlist

as the queen of hip-hop soul, mary j. blige, once said...what makes you different from the next guy? seen ya last week and you couldn't even speak, you try to play like mister all-of-that, but now you want to come to me with some chit chat?

...in other words, welcome to a mashup of romance: untold by enhypen and some of my favorite mary j. blige songs. random combination, i know...but just trust the process.

✩ general warnings: fluff, angst, possible suggestive themes/smut for hyung line (and if so, it will be tagged individually.) potentially darker themes? warnings for individual fics vary, please read them accordingly before proceeding.

✩ series playlist: what's the 411? ✩ enhypen [spotify]

✩ join the taglist: requirements | taglist

✩ posting period: teasers at any point, full fics tba!

✩ without my baby - yang jungwon ✩

now playing: be without you by mary j. blige | hundred broken hearts by enhypen.

✩ synopsis: he's always kept an extra pair of your socks and shoes in his work bag, just in case it rains before he gets to you - and you've never felt so cold walking home in the rain.

✩ pairing: convenience store worker!yjw x waitress!reader

✩ genre: exes to lovers | second chance love

✩ teaser! | read here!

✩ bring me paradise- lee heeseung ✩

now playing: everything by mary j. blige | moonstruck by enhypen.

✩ synopsis: the tumultuous ups and downs of your relationship were what made it worth it to heeseung. seeing the aftermath of a fight, the solutions you two would come up with - it meant the world to him. so why are you giving it up?

✩ pairing: bakery owner!lhs x restaurant owner!reader

✩ genre: strained lovers au | forged by fire

✩ teaser! | read here!

✩ bring the fire- park jongseong ✩

now playing: my loving by mary j. blige | paranormal by enhypen.

✩ synopsis: you cater to the people despite not being too fond of the whole wedding thing...and your best customer just so happens to plan the whole wedding thing.

✩ pairing: wedding planner!pjs x florist!reader

✩ genre: opposites attract | friends to lovers au

✩ teaser! | read here!

✩ if i could live - sim jaeyun ✩

now playing: you bring me joy by mary j. blige | royalty by enhypen.

✩ synopsis: he has written thousands of words just on the smell of your perfume, just like you have written dozens of stanzas just about the way he looks at you.

✩ pairing: writer!sjy x poet!reader

✩ genre: 'you're my muse' au | secret admirers

✩ teaser! | read here!

✩ diamonds, furs & you - park sunghoon ✩

now playing: deep inside by mary j. blige | your eyes only by enhypen.

✩ synopsis: nepotism has played a huge role in your life. from birth, you'd had it all handed to you - so you don't understand why he's any exception.

✩ pairing: model!psh x fashion designer!reader

✩ genre: enemies to lovers au | personal growth

✩ teaser! | read here!

✩ same old metaphors - kim sunoo ✩

now playing: no one will do by mary j. blige | highway 1009 by enhypen.

✩ synopsis: everything with sunoo has always been easy - from sharing meals to sharing secrets, you had no inhibitions. everything with sunoo was easy - including ovesharing.

✩ pairing: film student!ksn x theater student!reader

✩ genre: best friends to lovers au | forced proximity

✩ teaser! | read here!

✩ as you are - riki nishimura ✩

now playing: take me as i am by mary j. blige | brought the heat back by enhypen.

✩ synopsis: your cheeks always hurt from smiling, but you never cease to flash one at him after a game. after graduation, you find yourself holding onto a sliver of what could have been.

✩ pairing: cheerleader!riki x cheerleader!reader

✩ genre: high school sweethearts au | first love

✩ teaser! | read here!

babeyun © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[crazyk-imagine]

The One with the Sneaking Around

Pairing: Joey Tribibani x Female!reader

Characters: Joey Tribbiani, Female!reader, Monica Geller, Ross Geller, Rachel Green, Phoebe Buffay, Chandler Bing

Warnings: Fluff, Monica pulled a Ross, this was like so effing cute to write, I forgot how much I love friends, even though I rewatch it so much, literally like I need more Joey content, honestly just more friend content, I love them so much, Ross knew nothing, Monicia is overprotective, Chandler was baffled, Phoebe was oddly delighted, Rachel was lost in the sauce lol

Word Count: 1,272

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

He pulls you closer and pecks your lips once more.

You giggle and place a hand on his chest, “I told you; I need to go.”

He sticks his bottom lip out. “Can’t you stay for breakfast.”

You look from one eye to the other, patting his chest. “I told you; I need to leave before Monica finds out.”

“She wouldn’t find out. No one has and it's been six months, come on. Please,” he begs.

“And this has been our routine to prevent anyone from finding out.”

“Isn’t there any way I could… persuade you?”

You smile and cup his cheek. “Maybe next time.” You peck his lips before slipping your shoes on and grabbing your bag.

You glance up, catching him watching you. “What are you doing?”

He shrugs, leaning against the doorway. “Just watching you.”

“That’s not creepy.”

He chuckles. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yep, Monica’s dragging me to hang out with you guys.”

He nods, “alright.”

You stand in front of him, placing your hand on the back of his neck, playing with the short hair there. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

He gives you a halfhearted smile. “Yeah.”

You peck his lips, “I put some extras in the fridge for you.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know. Bye, J.” You close the door and find Chandler reaching for the newspaper.

You open your mouth to respond but can’t find an answer and bolt down the stairs.

The sarcastic man runs into the apartment across from him and barges through the door.

Joey turns around, with a mouth full of food. “What?”

-

You enter the apartment with Monica in tow behind you.

“Come on, tell me.”

You scoff, “no.”

“Please.”

“No, Mon. I will not tell you about it.”

“Just one detail, that’s all I’m asking.”

You set your bag down on the kitchen table, “Mon, no. I am a big girl, and I am not going to tell you.”

She pouts.

“What are we not sharing?” Rachel chimes in. 

You roll your eyes, “guys please.”

“It’s about that guy, isn’t it?” Phoebe adds.

“Mister best you’ve ever had?” Rachel nods.

You throw your head back and groan, “this is not what I wanted to deal with today.”

“What’s this about the best you’ve ever had?” Chandler chimes in.

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, “nothing.”

“Huh, I mean, you know that’s funny.” He starts off. “Because I heard something similar to that the other day.”

You shrug and head towards the fridge, “really?”

“Yeah, Joe was just telling me about this girl he’s been seeing.”

“Joey, I didn’t realize you were dating anyone?” Monica says.

He chuckles before turning to his best friend and giving him a hard look. “Uh- yeah, you know we’re not serious or anything, which is what we both talked about, and it’s been- it’s been fun.” He leans against the fridge.

You close the door and sneak looks at him. “Really? How interesting for you, J.”

Phoebe furrows her brows, wondering why the two of you are acting weird and then it clicks.

Chandler shakes his head and mimics her to keep quiet.

“I didn’t realize you were also seeing someone," you add.

“Well, I mean, I’m not seeing her, but we do have some fun.”

Monica rolls her eyes and makes her way around the kitchen to make dinner.

You turn and walk towards the couch, sitting down on the sofa to watch tv.

Naturally, like every other time you’ve hung out with everyone, you two sit together.

He sits beside you and you place your hand on the back of his neck to lightly scratch it and play with the short hair there.

Rachel tilts her head and realizes that’s your move.

You told her whenever you’re with a guy and you’re into him that’s how you would see if you two had any chemistry.

Phoebe pulls her back, letting Chandler tell her she can’t tell anyone.

“You can barely keep a secret,” she points at him. “I found out this morning when she left his apartment and it’s killing me, I feel faint.”

Ross enters and makes his way to the couch in search of you. “I found him.”

“Who?” You tilt your head.

“The perfect guy for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me you liked the guy from my office, and I asked if he was looking to date anyone, he said yes and asked about you.”

You uncurl your feet from under your thighs. “Ross, that was months ago.”

“Was it?” He thinks back, “anyway I was just thinking, there is a convention tomorrow and he’s going to be there.”

“I,” you groan, “you know I can’t say no to it.”

“So, you’ll go?”

“I,” you glance back at Joey, who keeps his gaze on the tv. “Can I think about it?”

He cringes, “I already bought the tickets.”

“Ross!”

“It’s not even a date, it’s just- it’s just a meeting.”

“I’m not there for him.”

“Okay, fine. Don’t go for him, go for you.”

You roll your eyes and shove him away.

“Hey, hey. Don’t shove the messenger.”

-

You walk into the apartment, immediately removing your boots and then aim for the bathroom to remove your earrings and makeup.

You exit the bathroom and pull your hair tie out of your hair as the door to Joey’s bedroom opens.

“Hey.”

You glance over at him and continue what you’re doing.

“How was it?” He asks, genuinely wanting to hear about your night.

“It was good, I learned a lot.” You spin around and gesture to the zipper of your maxi dress, “help.”

He pulls down the zipper, slowly, thinking about- “I’m sorry.”

“For what, Joe?”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into him. “For gettin’ jealous.”

“Why did you?”

He gets quiet and rests his head against your shoulder.

“I- I don’t know why you got so upset Joe, you know I’m not seeing anyone else, even though we said if we ever wanted to all we had to do was talk-”

“That’s the thing.”

You furrow your brows and unlink his hands, holding them once you spin around to face him. “What’s the thing?”

“I don’t-” His brows knitted together as he thought of the words to say.

“Talk to me, honey,” you cup his cheek. “I don’t know how to help you if you don’t talk.”

“I don’t want you to be with anyone else.”

You owlishly blink, “that’s- that’s not fair.”

“How is that not fair?”

“You’re going out with other girls and the one time-”

“I haven’t been with another girl for the last seven months.”

You jerk your head back, thinking back to when the two of you started this situationship. “But that was before we- Joey, are you-”

He cups your cheeks, “I really like you and I want you to be my girlfriend. I’ll even fight Monica if I have to.”

You can’t help but smile and wrap your arms around his waist, “let’s hope it doesn’t come to that because I really like you too.”

“Oh my god!”

Your eyes widen as do Joey’s.

“My best friend and my Joey!”

“Mon- mon, don’t-”

He puts himself in front of you, curling his arm around your waist. “I started it. We are dating, we’re together.”

She pauses to stare over his shoulder to look at you and then back at him. Her tough exterior breaks and she embraces him in a hug. “My best friend and my Joey!”

“This sounds vaguely familiar,” Chandler adds.

Rachel smacks his shoulder to which he whines.

[carmenized-onions]

Doing Too Much. | House Call

logline; Appliances can reach their breaking point, when you push them too far. Same goes for people.

[!!!] series history, this is the sixth; First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth

[New Thing!!] Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin' added to.

portion; 4.8k

possible allergies; eatin' meat, besides that, we're pretty good actually. did somebody say calm before the storm....?

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (no pronouns, but girl is said a couple times, i believe.)

After this chapter, I'm entering my era of couch hopping as I move to a new city n start a new job. I'm really excited for the chapter after this one, so hopefully I actually get time to write it-- But that's just my lil warning if you're left rereading for like two weeks </3 But I'll def be stalking my activity/inbox so please do yap to me

Monday morning. The next morning after everything. Well, closer to noon than morning, at this point. You’re supposed to have, what, a work ethic this week? After the most insane weekend of your life? No. You’re lazing around and doing fuck all. No matter who calls. Well… Not completely no matter, but like, most people.

When you check your phone, you’ve gotten a text at 6:43 A.M. Unknown number. Ah. Carmen. You put him in as Carmy, and put his nickname as ‘Mister New York’. Listen, old nicknames Mikey ingrained in your brain die hard.

It’s a simple text, deeply un-romantic.

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

Then, four lines of four perfect categories. Flawless. Purple first, even. The hardest category. And then,

‘Morning’

Stupid. Incredibly stupid, to be enamoured, by this. You reply,

‘Good morning!’

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

And then a failed jumble of coloured squares, you get one out of four categories. What the fuck is 'dogleg' and since when has it meant taking a sharp turn? You follow that up with,

‘Fuck you.’

Aside from Carmen, you’ve actually gotten texts from a couple people. Your boss at Eden’s asking if you’re alright. What the fuck did Cicero say? Oh well. You tell him you’ve ‘been better, been worse. Will be okay by next week.’ Perfectly vague, and you still get wired your cheque and tip out. Alright, maybe Uncle J does deserve your free labour.

Speaking of, the next text on your itinerary is from Uncle J, just info for the winter nuptials of Vinnie and Mira. Oh yeah. Three-hundred guests, you remember that part. You also remember him saying it’d be an ‘easy gig’… He did not mention you’d be the only bartender. This is going to be a nightmare. Oh well. You text back that despite it being an open bar you get to put out a tip jar. He just reacts to it, ‘haha’. That sounds like a yes to you.

And then, adorably, a selfie from Syd, wearing the collar and pins you’ve gifted her, under a green sweater. Cutie. You hype her up accordingly.

Besides some texting though, Monday is relatively unbusy. No calls. No emergencies. No businesses knocking down your door for your services. You’re thankful for a break, letting the inertia set in, finally being able to relax after fix after fix after—

Tuesday comes, you get sent another perfect round of New York Time’s Connections around half past six in the morning, along with a good morning text. And again, you fuck it up. You send him your Wordle results this time, as an act of rebellion. You then ask,

‘How’s reworking the menu going?’

‘Hard to say’

‘Ask me tomorrow’

God he’s an awful texter. Horrifically dry. You know you’re down bad beyond a belief when you find that endearing. You spend Tuesday drowning and pruning your plants after depriving them for so long.

Plus working on your art piece for Carmy. You’re pulling out old film photos, a canvas, and a load of bleach—It’s like high school art class all over again— Surprise surprise, the handyman who loves to up-cycle is a mixed media artist. Who could’ve guessed?

While trimming a photo, an exterior of The Beef, a picture frame on your wall falls down behind you, you tut, turning your head to it, chastising the air. “Mikey! It’s a copy, relax! I’ve still got the original print…”

There’s every chance you’re insane— No, you’re definitely insane. But you’re allowed to be, your best friend died, you’re allowed to talk to the air as if he’s still around. Sometimes the timing of doors swinging open for you and things falling down are just too uncanny to not be a ghost.

Wednesday arrives, and again, just after 6:40, Connections results. And the Wordle, this time; plus a ‘Good Morning’. It looks like this is simply just your thing, now. Every morning, the second both of you get up, you send each other puzzles and wish a good morning. You don’t mind that. It’s nice to have a ‘thing’, with someone. With Carmen.

Part way through the day, around two o’clock, you get another text. Two, actually. From Carmen, in quick succession.

‘Are you busy?’

‘Don’t worry if you’re busy. Can call Fak’

You’re quick to reply, frankly deeply offended.

‘Are you fucking firing me????’

‘I’m gonna get ready. Text me details’

While getting dressed, you watch three dots bubble, bubble, bubble… He’s taking forever, just don’t look at it, you’ll get anxious for no reason. No jumpsuit today, you’ve got to switch it up every now and again. Navy cargo pants with the perfect number of pockets and zippers, and an orange Chicago’s Kindest shirt, tucked in. Hm. Looking in the mirror, hickey is still there. Lighter, but there. Foundation? No. You’ll sweat it off and that’ll just bring up more questions. If Syd asks you’ll just tell her you fell down the stairs… On your neck. She's not the type to confront anything remotely sexual anyways.

Speaking of Syd, before Carmen can text you back, she calls you, which is fair— Don’t leave a Carmen to communicate. You stick your phone in the crux of your neck and answer while you pack your utility belt. This feels nearly nostalgic. “What’s fucked?”

Carmen is in the background; you can hear the tail end of a sentence, grumbling. “—Don’t call—”

“My life.” She responds without missing a beat. “And also, Carmy’s stove and oven.”

“Oh.” You squint. “What the fuck happened?”

“Overuse? I actually don’t fucking know, it just stopped working. We plugged it in and out— He even reset his apartment’s breakers. I dunno what’s wrong with it. It’s probably got something to do with him putting his fuckin’ jeans in there.”

“…He what?”

You can hear him in the background, again, clearer this time, grimacing, “What are you doing to me?”

Syd does not mind him at all, continuing, “I know! He’s fucking weird!”

“He’s extremely weird.” You like him a lot. “I’ll be over soon, were you guys like, mid-cooking?”

“Yessir.”

“Christ, alright… I think I have a dual burner hot plate laying around somewhere, you want me to bring it—”

They both speak clearly this time, together, “Please.”

You’ve got a pile of things to give to them anyways, and maybe you miss Carmy’s face. Just a little.

Instead of just buzzing you in, Carmy comes down for you. When he sees you through the door window, carrying a cardboard box, he almost breaks into a full run. He’s somehow opening the door, grabbing the box from your hands, and chastising you all at the same time. “You should’ve left it in the car, I would’ve—”

You step in through the entryway and kiss his cheek, cutting him short. You can’t help yourself, it’s the first time you’ve seen him since and you feel like a giddy teen. The teenage girl in your head is no longer just in your head, she’s fully manning the station. “You’re very sweet. But it’s also not heavy.”

When he continues to be frozen, the regret starts to mount, “Is—Sorry, is that okay to do—?”

“It’s very okay to do.” He manages to reply, with haste. Nodding to himself. “It’s good.” He nods again, then marches off, expecting you to follow to the elevator. You do.

“What floor?”

“Eighth.” He sniffs; you press the button. He stands next to you, looking you up and down. He astutely observes. “Orange.”

“Yeah.” You smirk, looking back at him, “Turns out, businesses can have two colours in their designs.”

What’s a little roasting of fellow small businesses between two not just friends?

“Oh yeah?” Coy, smirking. Oh no. You’ve gotta get the teen off the controls. He tilts his vision to stare at your jacket. Ah. You opted to wear your Carhartt instead of his jean jacket.

“Didn’t wanna give Syd more questions.” She already guessed you’re a sugar baby, you don’t want to wrap Carmen in on that too. Especially since ideally in a month or two he’ll be your boss. Hm. The Bear is going to need an HR.

He hums, nodding. “We’re not telling Syd?”

“What’s there to tell?” You grin, crossing your arms. “You suddenly have free time, Bear?”

He takes a beat, thinking, then just takes a deep frustrated yet amused exhale. “I’m gonna fuckin’…” He can’t think of a threat. “…Get you.”

You snort, “You’re gonna get me?”

“Fuck you—!” “You’re gonna fuckin’ get me, Bear?”

“I—” He tries to hold a straight face, it doesn’t work. “Yeah, I am.”

“Can’t wait.” You nod, grinning, turning back to the doors. “You told me to ask how menu’s going tomorrow.”

“I did.”

“It’s tomorrow.” The door dings, opening on the eighth floor; you step out together. He switches his grip to hold the box in one arm. Alright Biceps, we don’t need to brag here...

“It’s… We’re getting there.” He grimaces. “Syd’s recipes are always… Almost perfect.”

“Ah.” You nod, you know your friend well enough to know where this is going. “And she fucks up one thing hard?”

“Mhm.”

“And when you tell her it’s okay and give her a hand she just feels worse?”

He nods. A touch surprised you’re right on the dot so quickly. “Everything ends up perfect, but I think she’s finding the edits…”

“Demoralizing.” You walk down the hall together, he nods. “I know what she needs, I’ll find an in.”

“You always do.” He hums, you walk just a touch ahead of him, unknowingly walking past his door. He pulls you back by the back of your jacket, making you stumble back into him. This seems to be this villain’s intention; as when you turn around, he’s quick to grab your chin and kiss you.

“It’s very good.” He emphasizes, again, before opening his door and acting like everything’s totally normal and fine. Since when did he turn the tables and make you the desperate one? Son of a bitch.

Ah. Actually, subtract any attraction you had in this moment— He lives like this? Books on the floor, by the window. Jeans on the dinner table, because they were in the oven. The kitchen actually looks alright— You’re almost certain that’s purely for utilitarian purposes while they’re working on the menu. This motherfucker better have a bed frame or him asking you to sleep over would be downright offensive. God, he’s wonderful. God, you’re an idiot.

You find Syd at the table, moping, head in hands. Carmen sets the box down, sitting beside her. You pat the top of her head. She silently moves one of her hands to go over yours. You nod. The silent exchange of girls who know.

“Yeah?”

She nods, grumbling. “Yeah.”

Carmen has no fucking idea what’s happening and he’s never been more intrigued by a near wordless social interaction in his entire life. What? You’re not even making eye-contact. What the fuck is happening?

You fish through the box with your free hand, grabbing a pot. You place it in front of Syd. “Look.”

She peeks through her fingers. A tiny but flourishing nursery pot of basil sits before her. You speak. “You’re gonna hyper-fixate on this basil I’m gifting you, and then you’re gonna crack back into it with the dual burner until I’m done fixing the oven.”

She nods, putting her hands in her lap, “Yes, Chef.”

You pull out a second nursery pot, setting it down for Carmen. “For you.”

“What for?”

“Basil grows like a motherfucker and it’s getting unhinged. I need to start pawning off to people that’ll make good use of it. A-K-A, chefs.” You look at Syd, pointedly, “Talented chefs.”

You hand off the heating pad— Wrapped in brown paper with a card tied to it, to Carmen. “For Nat.” You add, when he looks confused, “Can’t imagine I’ll see her sooner than you will.”

He looks even more confused, when you hand him a spray bottle full of reddish water. It’s one of the good spray bottles, too. Continuous. Carmen wouldn’t know the difference, but you do. “Rosemary. —Water, that is.”

He squints; you clarify, gesturing to your own hair. “You mentioned, losing hair, so— Thought I’d make some, with the trimmings of rosemary I had. Got ginger and cloves in it, too.”

Why have you trapped him in hell? You’ve remembered such a specific off hand from days ago and acted on it? And he can’t express the grandiose level of affection he feels right now? Are you serious? You’re the devil. You’re absolutely the devil. He just coughs out a ‘thanks’.  

“And, the pièce de résistance,” You pull out the old ass, boxed up double burner countertop stove. “A stovetop that ideally fuckin’ works. It was my single claim to fame in my college dormitory.”

Carmen’s already opening the box. Sydney smirks, curiosity peaked. “Was that legal?”

“You a fuckin’ RA?” You grin, poking her forehead. “It was not. And that’s exactly why everyone loved me— Didn’t serve them fuckin’ hot pockets.”

The configurations of Carmen’s apartment would be great for literally any occasion besides the current one. The kitchen is narrow, and so, when you pull out the stove to check the back, there’s an estimated no fucking room left for Carm and Syd, so they sit at the dinner table with your stove top. You’d think they’d look like they’re doing a cute hot pot. No. They look like two conflicted and confused twelve-year-olds working on a science project.

So do you, honestly. Wiring is definitely more your speed than plumbing, but if you’re being honest, this is the first oven you’ve worked on without your dad, and you’re having a hard time remembering everything. There’s a lot of embarrassed Googling on your phone, when you're sure they’re not looking. They can’t know you’re even slightly incompetent!

You’re pretty sure it’s just a couple damaged wires, fried from overwork— Easy fix, if you had wire. You don’t. Slightly harder fix. But soldering is your bitch really, you’re in your bag. You look stupid, wearing chunky goggles and a respirator, but you’re in your bag, baby! What’s that one saying? Skills make you hot? That’s not a saying.

But it is true. When Carmen’s able to peer into the kitchen, quickly looking over his shoulder when Syd takes a moment to write a measurement or direction down, you look stunning.  Respirator and all. You just look correct there, in the kitchen. His kitchen. So stunning he feels guilty. Do you find it annoying? Constantly fixing errors behind him? Probably. You say it’s not a lot of work, but that can’t be true.

“How’s The Bear, ‘sides menu rework?” You ask, raising your voice in the kitchen.

“S’good.” Carmen. “I’m in hell.” Syd. Not hard to tell which statue is lying, here.

Syd stutters on, “Nat’s takin’ care of baby Michaela— Which is very good and—and cool, actually.”

“But?”

“But we’re back to handling the business side entirely ourselves, for like— The next month. Maybe two? Fuck, are we doing the wedding without her?” Sydney almost burns her sauce, Carmen’s quick to move it off the burner.

He mutters, “Don’t even start to think about it. It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna figure it out.”

“Oh yeah, wedding— Have you gotten your menu yet?” You call from the kitchen, muffled by your respirator.

“Oh my god!” Sydney exclaims, and Carmen is wincing. She can’t tell you things are going wrong; doesn’t she know that? You’ll fix it, if things are wrong. You always fix it. Fix him. You’re gonna put him in your phone as Carmy Bad News. If you haven’t already. Start a support group with Tif.

Syd continues, “They’re so fucking particular and somehow also vague—Like, ‘we want salmon and chicken’ for main course— What kind of preparation? ‘Surprise us!’ Okay, how about roasted chicken—? ‘Mmmm, no, not that’. I’ve been told ‘non quello’ at least ten times in the last four days.”

No, you’re witty. Bad News Bear. Fuck, that’s definitely his name in your phone, isn’t it?

“Fuckin’ nightmare. Y’know, I’m the only fucking bartender? For like three hundred guests? Thank God they’re not asking for a custom cocktail or anything, I’d lose my shit.”

Sydney laughs, and she steps back into her flow easily, reducing the sauce without burning it, now. She looks more serene than she has in days. What? How are you doing that? What are you doing? Are you casting a spell?

“Can you even fucking imagine what their couples’ cocktail would be?”

You groan from the kitchen, laughing in return, “Not you too, Syd! Must you make me work!?”

“C’mon maestro, make a cocktail!”

“Bleh. Uh… They give long island iced tea energy, but it’s a wedding so— Like a boozier negroni?”

“That sounds fucking disgusting.”

“I didn’t say it’d be good, I said it’d be their couples’ cocktail.” You’re both giggling, like school girls. It’s like you said— You become teens, together.

Despite the fact that Syd is making an incredibly complex dish, and you’re fixing an oven—His oven— Ridiculing the other impossible tasks set out for the both of you… Despite all of that, you’re laughing.

Carmen is, what, nearly thirty? A restaurant owner, with a full crew, who attends Al-Anon, and is only now truly registering the power of an unsolvable burden being shared. Not fixed, shared. Talking. Laughing. God, this all comes so easy to you, doesn’t it?

You finish soldering, test each burner, and the oven— All working, thank God. You quietly cheer in the kitchen, removing your respirator and goggles. “We’re good here! Fixed!”

“C’mere!” Syd calls out to you, and so you do. Eagerly. She hands you a fork. Unprompted, she does the thing. You’d missed the OG, really.

“Beef Oxtail, pressed in a Foie Gras casing, seared. Basted in a King Oyster mushroom sauce. Pureed greens on the side.”

“I never know what the fuck you’re saying.”

She pushes the side of your face with the palm of her hand. “Put it in your mouth and chew.”

You want to make some sort of kink joke, but you respect the already struggling man in the room and take a bite. Hm. Hm. You put a finger over your mouth, swallowing. “...Now it might just be my unrefined palate.”

“That’s why we have you try it.” Carmen pipes in. Syd nods, following. “It’s important to know the baseline.”

“…It’s got like,” You hand the fork to Syd so she can try it, while you think. “A bit of a bitter aftertaste? Which might be the… goal?”

Syd spits it out the second it touches her mouth, she shouts your name, your actual name— A rarity. She’s so terrified that she forgets the Walk-In bit she’s been in on all week. “I just fuckin’ poisoned you— Oh my god?! Are you good? That was— Fuck! You swallowed that?!”

She grabs your face like a concerned mother, also maybe to check if you have superpowers, you’re not sure. All you know is there’s a golden opportunity to make another sex joke and you have to hold back. Life is so unfair.

Carmen takes a quick taste, also spitting it out. “I’ve got it, Chef, don’t sweat.” Immediately looking to the drafted recipe card to see where they went wrong.

Syd almost squeezes your cheeks like a stress ball but thinks better of it, letting go, groaning, beyond frustrated at this point. “You shouldn’t have to fix it— I should fuckin’ have it, at this point.”

Carmen's trying to ignore how much he relates to the sentiment. He's not the focus, right now.

“We make mistakes, Chef—” “Syd.” You snap your fingers, pointing to her, interrupting Carmen. “Can you help me grab something, from my car? It’s kinda big.”

Carmen’s quick to chime in, already going to untie his apron, “I can—”

“No!” You look at him pointedly, trying to communicate through look alone. He kind of gets it? “It’s… Girl stuff.”

Syd squints. “You need me to help you carry a big girl thing?”

“…Are you fuckin’ helping or are you gonna poke holes?”

“What are you actually dragging me out for?”

“Technically I do actually need your help grabbing something, it’s just not a girl thing. And it's also not from my car.”

“Oh?”

You walk out of Carmen’s building with his keys, and gesture out to every apartment buildings treasure trove— The spot everyone throws their furniture when they move out and don’t know what else to do with it.

“Bookshelf!” There is actually one pristine looking bookshelf, a cheap one, definitely just something from IKEA. But it’s better than the fucking floor. “I spotted it on my way in, we’re gonna bring it up for Carm.”

She groans, hating the concept of manual labour, but still walks with you and grabs one end anyways. “Why didn’t you make Carmen carry his own bookshelf?”

“Because you need a fuckin’ pep-talk.” You pick the other end of the bookshelf up. It’s thankfully not that heavy. You walk backwards so you can keep facing Syd.

“…I don’t—” “Yes the fuck you do.”

She kisses her teeth, you frown. “What’s up, Adamu?”

“It’s just fucking annoying— I keep, I keep fucking it up. I keep—Keep—”

“Doing too much.”

She gives you a look, ‘are you serious?’, type look. You continue. “You’re doing too much. You’re not cooking like you.”

“I can cook like Michelin—”

“I never said you couldn’t. Watch your step.” You interrupt, walking over a bump in the sidewalk. “You can do star level shit, Syd. But that’s a grade, not a type.”

She kind of reels, at that. You continue, “You cook great complex dishes, you always have, I’ve tried them. But now, you’re all caught up trying to prove some shit, to Carmen, to—to— Who gives stars? The tires guy?”

She laughs, almost dropping the bookshelf. “Yeah, I’m trying to impress the tires guy.”

“Fuck you.” You snort, stepping up the stairs. “What I’m trying to say is, you should make what you want to eat, not what you think you should eat.”

She nods, you stop on top of the stairs, both taking a second to breathe. “…Thanks.”

You nod back, hands on your knees for a second before standing back up, opening the lobby door. “I’ll always be your cheerleader, Syd.”

“More like coach.”

“Can you let me have one hot girl career, please?”

When you get back up to Carmen’s, he’s already grimacing. You and Syd are split apart by the bookshelf standing between you in the hall. “Fuck is this?”

“It was free and I’ll clean it!” You press your hands together pleading. “C’mon, you can even put your jeans in it!”

“Jeans on a bookshelf?”

You turn to Syd. “Better than the oven.”

“I think he’s doing that to dry them.”

“I think it’s ‘cause he doesn’t own a dresser.”

“It’s both.” Carmen clicks his tongue, single-handedly picking up the bookshelf and carrying inside. Alright, does he need to show off this much? Whatever. It’s definitely not making you feel any type of way at all.

You squint, watching him walk further in his apartment, and then to Syd. You speak at the same time. “He stays doing too much.”

As promised, you wipe down the bookshelf, making sure it’s free of grime and roadside pests. Syd and Carmy work together in the kitchen, with a now functioning oven. You load the shelf up with the books on the floor— Thankfully they’re piled into categories already, so you don’t have to bother him about that.

You’re tempted to clean his living room, but that would probably be rude, right? Don’t want him to take it as you saying he’s a slob. But they are taking a while… Alright, you’ll just throw out trash. You won’t fold blankets or pick up dishes or anything. Just trash! No big! He can’t be mad at you for that.

You pile together the garbage, then sneakily throw it out in the kitchen trash can as fast as you can, before he looks. He’ll think he’s just sleep cleaning, or something. “How’s it goin’ in here?’

Carmen pipes up, eyes focused on the dish as Syd plates it. “Good.” Syd holds the plate in one hand, and silently corrals you with the other to sit at the table. You do. She sets it down the plate before you, handing you a fork and knife.

You look up at her expectantly. She shakes her head. “Eat first, this time.”

She looks serious, so you nod, cutting into the dish. It’s different from the last one. Instead of oxtail, it’s pastry. Or at least, a puff pastry exterior. You’re pretty sure it’s Pillsbury, you remember Carmen buying that, the other day, on your excursion.

Inside it, you believe is the beef oxtail, there’s other things, too. Some sort of sauce, some greens— Oh well, no time to bask in the cross section because Syd looks like she’s about to explode. You take a bite. You nod, chewing.

Syd starts, “Searing the duck caused the bitter taste— So instead of- Of searing the outside, I coated it in the mushroom sauce, the greens— Not pureed, this time, for texture. Your basil, too. There’s a crumble of feta, for a subtle tang. And then wrapped it all together in puff pastry, and baked. It’s sort of like, a varied take on a beef welling—”

“You made a fucking gourmet hot pocket?” You swallow, wheezing. The second you say this, Sydney’s focused face beams, laughing, like she’s just pulled off the most perfect prank of all time.

Carmen was so intrigued and focused on Sydney’s explanation, that you watering it down to hot pocket and being right makes his entire system reboot. He cannot stop smiling, aghast. He's been helping Syd make a hot pocket for the past hour?

“I told you to make what you want and—” wheeze “—you make a fucking hot pocket?!” You double down, laughing with her, she’s trying to defend herself but she can’t stop wheezing in tandem.

“I— I can’t fuckin’ stand you!” You snort, covering your face with your arm. “I hate your ass, oh my God, Syd.”

“Did—” snort “What did you think?” She recovers, slowly but surely.

You shake your head, handing her the fork. “It’s sick, Syd, obviously, it’s fucking perfect… Chef.” You tack on at the end, almost forgetting. “I’m not gonna be able to have an actual hot pocket, ever again. You’ve ruined my life.”

She takes a bite for herself, nodding. She does a small cheer, pumping her fist. “Let’s fucking go.” She points her fork at you— Purely on muscle memory, and you both instantly remember the days of her testing out recipes and you pairing them on first taste. She’d point her fork to you like a microphone. It was a fun game between two nerds.

It’s a reflex response for you, even now. “Barolo. Savory, dry, red. A young one, though. Light body. Could also do an Amarone, if you’re not buried in money.”

She hands the fork off to Carmy to try it, then writes the pairings down, mumbling, amusement still in her voice. “How the fuck do you do that?”

“I honestly don’t know. I think I have some wires crossed.”

“Fire, Chef.” Carmen swallows his bite. “We cannot call it a hot pocket on the menu.”

“Then what’s the point!?”

Leaving Carmen’s place is objectively the most awkward experience— But also the funniest. You offer to wait for Syd and drive her home— You’ll need a second to pack anyways while they make their business plans.

When you do offer, of course, Carmen stutters short, almost asking you again to sleep over or at the very least stay late, but saves it, realizing himself.

Syd accepts the ride offer. You pack up and wait for her to be done. When she is, Carmen offers to carry your things down with you both, in which Syd accuses him of thinking you’re both weaklings— He does not have a defense case for this, he has to let you go. You can tell he wants to kiss you at the door, and you do too. Sadly, you’re equally down bad, but he can’t know that…

You say your goodbyes, Syd helps you load your tools and hotplate in the trunk of your car. Your phone vibrates. Text from Mister New York.

‘Look up I’m on the balcony. 8 floors.’

You look up, sure as shit, he’s out there, cigarette in mouth. Unlit. He waves, you wave back. He texts again, in rapid succession.

‘Thank you’

‘For helping Syd’

‘And the oven and the hot plate and the bookshelf (not necessary)’

‘nbd + I think it’s v necessary’ Does Carmen understand acronyms? You’re risking it, here.

‘and cleaning my trash’ Sonofabitch.

‘ah fuck. I don’t think you’re messy!!! I just wanted to help!!!’

‘I know. You’re you. Be safe.’

Oh goddammit, stupid dry texter, saying something so gah. You jump as Syd taps the roof of your car behind you, getting your attention. Watching from a far distance, Carmen laughs, though you don’t notice it.

“Are we going?”

“Yes! Sorry!” You hurriedly pocket your phone, waving one last time as you get in your car. Syd sits beside you in shotgun, her pot of basil sat safely in her lap. You drive off.

You’re half way down the road, when Syd pipes up again. “So y’all are fucking, correct?”

You almost brake check the guy behind you.

 “How do you fuckin’ do that!?”

the opening is dedicated to my dear friend and i who have sent our wordle results to each other everyday for the past like year and a half.

Things of note, one - people usually skip the shit up top-- I made a spotify playlist! Listen if you like, I'm not your dad.

Two, I know this is a self insert right, i know what I set myself up for-- Do you know the hell i am in as a syd x carmy girl writing scenes with both of them and it NOT being them? What have I done, to myself? The only coping mechanism I have is imagining in this universe Syd is a lesbian. And that is helping.

The hot pocket recipe-- Who fucking knows, if that would taste good? I think it would? In theory? I fucked with a dish from Daniel NYC, to make it into a bit. Would it work? ....Beef wellingtons do, I can't see why this can't???? Idk man.

Rosemary water w cloves and ginger does fucking work btw. I am part of the so stressed out i lost my hair brigade. Also basil does grow like a motherfucker.

We're seein' a little bit of that tenseness that comes with being in an 'almost relationship' both of them feel like they've got something they can fuck up now. Poor birds. They'll be okay. Probably.

I'm really excited for the next chapter, I don't wanna give shit away, but it's gonna be,,,,,, different. I haven't seen anyone try this kinda formatting on tumblr before, and I'm excited to see what you think. Between my moving and how complex the choreography of it is gonna be, it's gonna be a much longer minute between this chapter and the next, I fear. But listen, you already knew your ass was gettin' spoiled with a chapter every two days. Hehe.

As always, please come yap to me in the replies/inbox/dms/reblogs. I love to hear thoughts!! It sustains me, baby!!

Next Part

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

lol, THIS video got me thinking that joshua is just like that so hard that i actually cried on my pillow

18+ video!

tw: dom!shua, sub fem!reader (slightly bratty), fingering, clit stimulation, praise, use of petnames - minors dni.

"You're moving too much, angel. Can't you just stay still for a minute?"

"H-How can I stay still when your f-fingers feel so good?" You whine as your fingernails dig in the skin of your tummy.

"So cute." Joshua chuckles and presses a quick peck on your inner thigh, never stopping the circular motions on your sensitive bud.

It feels slightly embarrassing to be lying completely naked in his lap, but you also feel pampered by all the attention he gives you and your pussy.

"Enjoying the princess treatment?"

"Quite a lot, Joshie." You giggle as you roll your hips against his hand, your own hands playing with your breasts.

"Joshie? Wow, you must be very needy today."

"So what if I am?"

"Guess I have to play harder." He curls the corners of his lips upwards in a wicked smirk and presses his digits harder on your clit, rubbing it faster.

"J-Joshie!" Your hand flies to his forearm, but he doesn't stop at all. In fact, your noises push him to torture you even more, enjoying the squelching noises of your pussy.

"It's funny how you're trying to act all bratty, but as soon as I touch you just a little bit harder, you're putty in my hands."

"S-Shut up." You buck your hips upwards.

"One more curse and I'll make you eat up your words." He warns you with the most fake sweet voice he can muster.

"I would like to see you try, fucker."

"You've done it now, princess." He hooks his hand over your other thigh and pulls it all the way to his chest, twisting your body in a way that doesn't let you fight back.

"You were doing so well but you just had to be a fucking brat, didn't you?" Joshua slides one finger in your hole and fucks it painstakingly slowly.

"Come on, don't tease me like that!" You protest, but he reprimands you with a slap on your ass.

"No more mister nice guy for you, princess. Now you'll have to take what I'm gonna give you. Nothing more."

[junkissed]

cranberry concoctions

member | bartender!joshua x f!reader genre | smut, a little angst & a little fluff, 1920s prohibition au, speakeasy au word count | 4.6k synopsis | you came to the infamous diamond glass looking for a good cocktail. instead, you found love in a hot bartender who also makes the best cosmos you’ve ever had. warnings | reader has a vagina and breasts, alcohol consumption (drink responsibly kids), reader smokes cigarettes (only 2), big dick joshua, the sex is not historically accurate sorry, actually most of this isn't historically accurate oops, praise, some degredation, multiple orgasms, name calling/petnames (slut, whore, darling, sweetheart, baby, my lady), kinda size kink maybe (he has big hands i'm sorry i can't not mention it), creampie notes | lowercase intended. this is part of rose's sax, settlements, & speakeasies collab! masterlist will be linked here. this fic has taken so long but it's finally finished!! thank you all for your patience!!

you slip into one of the many empty seats at the bar, placing your beaded evening bag on the counter and pulling out a cigarette with a sigh.

“what can i get you, darling?”

you glance up to see a man in a crisp white button-down, casually swiping a rag along a glass mug.

“what kinda cocktails you got?” you reply, pushing the cigarette between your teeth.

“anything you can dream up, honey.”

you pause, taking the cigarette out of your mouth to think. “how about… cranberry juice, with vodka, and triple sec? and a little lime?”

he grins. “coming right up.”

he grabs bottles from the long shelves behind him, setting them back on the counter in front of you before pulling a cocktail glass from below the bar. 

you slip the cigarette back into your mouth, your eyes following his movements as you pull your lighter out of your bag. you flip the arm up and flick the wheel, creating a tall flame that ignites with a pop, and you bring it carefully up to the end of the stick.

he pushes his sleeves up, revealing a small tattoo of what looks like a diamond on the inside of his wrist. your gaze catches it for a moment before your eyes flick up to find his looking back at you. 

with his sleeves rolled up, you don’t miss the way his muscles bulge against the tight cotton of his dress shirt. he tosses the container effortlessly from one hand to the other. the tendons in his wrist flex as he flips the shaker back and forth, a gleam in his eye and a confident grin on his face as the bottle twirls between his fingers. you take a long drag and give him a smile.

“cool tricks you got there,” you say, sitting back in your seat.

“i spent a year abroad at school in london,” he beams, holding the mixer high in the air and tilting it slightly to let the pink liquid fall into your glass. “picked up a thing or two.”

he tops off the drink with a lime swirl, sliding it gently across the counter. you hold your cigarette between two fingers as you lift the glass to your lips, taking a small sip.

“mm,” you nod, smiling. “ ‘s good.”

the dark room is quiet save for the light chatter from other patrons and the sultry piano music coming from the opposite side of the room. it’s late in the evening—well, by now, more like morning—and the speakeasy is mostly empty. you’re the only one at the bar, and you’re also the only one here alone, noticing the few couples scattered around the room in booths, drinking and laughing together.

you sigh and take another drag off your cigarette.

“you waitin’ on someone, sweetheart?” the bartender asks with a sly smile, tossing the rag behind the bar. “boyfriend, perhaps? or a coworker? can get their drink ready for them, if you’d like.”

you scoff, resting your hand on the counter above an ashtray. “do you often get women comin’ in here by themselves, mister?” 

he leans back against the bar and crosses his arms, but the playful gleam in his eyes tells you he isn’t offended. “not as often as i get pretty ladies like yourself in here,” he flirts. “and the name’s joshua. joshua hong.”

you stick out your hand to shake his, telling him your name. “so, joshua, what do you do? other than serve fancy drinks to pretty ladies, of course,” you say, taking another sip of your cocktail. damn, that is good. your friend wasn’t lying when she said that the diamond glass had the best drinks around.

“nothin’ much,” he shrugs. “i like to sing, sometimes. but not anything special. just a hobby.” he hands you a napkin, to wipe up the drops of your drink that splashed out onto the counter when you bumped it. “what do you do when you’re not ordering fancy drinks from sexy gentlemen?”

“thanks,” you say, squinting at him as you take the napkin, the name of the speakeasy embossed on it in pretty gold lettering. “and who ever said you were a gentleman?”

he smiles. “let me take you out to dinner and i’ll show you.”

your eyes widen, though you try to hide your reaction. “is that so, mister joshua?”

“mhm. and you never answered the question.”

you huff and raise an eyebrow at him. “how ‘bout i tell you over dinner instead?”

you take another big sip of your drink and look down at your watch to check the time. “shit,” you curse under your breath.

you look up and meet joshua’s eyes, standing patiently behind the bar. “i’ve got work in the morning– er, in a coupl’a hours,” you offer in way of explanation. “gotta run.”

“i see,” he nods, his features falling into a faux-serious expression. “the mysterious work.”

“better hold me to that dinner if you wanna find out,” you reply with a laugh as you pull on your coat. 

he grins. “oh, i will, darling.”

you pull your bag off the counter and go to take out some bills, but a large hand falls on your wrist and you freeze.

“on the house,” he says with a grin, letting go of your hand and sliding your empty glass across the counter. “come find me if you ever want some company, and we can set up that dinner, hm?”

you nod at him, unable to hide the hint of a smile growing on your face. “i’ll do that.”

the next time you visit the diamond glass, the place is packed.

it’s earlier in the evening this time, so you aren’t too surprised, but you didn’t think there were this many people who’d break the law to come here in search of a little fun. but, then again, isn’t that why you’re here too? a little fun, a little drinking, and hopefully a little more flirting with joshua, if you can manage to find him again.

the bar’s crowded, and you can barely manage to find a place to slip in between all the occupied stools. you crane your neck to look around, searching to see who the bartender working tonight is. this time there’s not one but two men in stiff white uniforms, handing out bottles of beer and pouring wine for the patrons at the other end of the bar. you can’t see either of their faces, so you lean against the counter and pull out a cigarette while you wait.

you’re leaning down putting your lighter away when you hear a familiar voice call your name.

“didn’t think i’d see you back here so soon,” joshua says when you look up, meeting his eyes.

“came to collect on my free dinner, of course,” you reply with what you hope is a teasing smile.

he chuckles. “well, i hate to break your heart, darling, but i’m a little busy at the moment. how ‘bout i get you a drink instead?”

“fine by me.”

“same as before?” he asks, already reaching for a glass.

you pause to put your cigarette to your lips. “sure, why not. show me more of those gentleman bartender skills you like to show off.”

he starts pouring liquor into the shaker as he continues to talk. “i’m sure i’ve got other skills you’d like a lot better than my drink mixing, sweetheart. maybe i’ll show you after that dinner we keep talkin’ about.”

you suck in a sharp gasp of air, accidentally inhaling a mouthful of smoke and sending you into a coughing fit. you grab a napkin to cover your mouth with as you struggle to regain your composure, feeling your cheeks grow hotter by the second.

joshua just smiles, clearly amused by your reaction as he slides you your finished drink. “well, don’t lose your cool now, miss, i haven’t even done anything fancy yet. gotta give me a chance to wow you like a gentleman.”

you clear your throat, hoping your voice sounds at least a little levelheaded. “how very courteous of you, mister joshua. i–”

you’re definitely about to come up with the wittiest of comebacks, is what you tell yourself before you’re interrupted by a group of flapper girls, talking loudly as they walk up to the bar.

“and that’s when i told him, ‘if you don’t stop necking on with that sob sister from the newspaper’s, we’re through!’ he really thought i wouldn’t see through that baloney, screwing that reporter and then coming home to me as if he could have us both!”

the group bursts out laughing, and joshua looks over at them, then looks back at you. “mind if i go get these ladies seated, darling? then we can finish our conversation.”

you stutter out a “sure” and he gives you a wink as he walks away. even over the ruckus of the speakeasy, you can still hear him greet the girls, and it makes you irritated for reasons you can’t explain.

“well hi there, girls! how’s the partying goin’ for you all on this fine evening, and how can i make it better?”

the chorus of flirty, drawn out “hello”’s from the group makes your stomach churn, though you have no reason to care. it’s this man’s job to flirt with customers to make an extra buck and keep this joint running. to him, you’re probably just another broad with money to throw away on booze.

you turn around to see one of the drunker girls hanging on joshua’s arm, laughing at something he’s said like he’s the funniest man on the planet. the sight is enough to push you over the edge, and you down your drink in a huff, slipping a bill under the empty glass as you walk out of the speakeasy, pretending your feelings aren’t hurt.

you wake up the next morning feeling guilty about the night before. sure, you probably did overreact, but it had been a long day at work, getting badgered by your boss for no reason other than the fact that he didn’t like having women employees in his office.

and joshua seemed like a nice man, and even if he was just trying to earn some tips, at least he was friendly. 

so that night, you put on your finest dress and head back to the diamond glass, hoping for the chance to talk to him again.

but as you walk across the bar, you see that there’s only one bartender at the counter, and it’s not joshua. he looks vaguely familiar, so you figure he must’ve been the other bartender working with him the other night.

“hey,” you call out to him as you sit down, and he turns to face you, black hair falling into his eyes. 

“how can i help you, miss?”

“what’s your name?” you ask him straight away, and he furrows his brows.

“it’s vernon, miss, but i don’t see—”

“you work with a fella named joshua?”

vernon rests his hands on the counter, leaning towards you. “i do indeed, but he ain’t here right now. it’s his day off.”

you frown. well. that messes with your plans.

“you gotta pen?” you ask, grabbing a napkin from the stack.

he pulls a pen from his breast pocket and twists it open, handing it to you. you scribble something quickly on the napkin, then cap the pen and hand it back to him.

you fold up the napkin and give it to vernon. “when you see him again, can you give this to him for me? it’s real important, make sure he gets it.”

he looks confused, but he shoves the pen and napkin into his pocket. “i’ll make sure it does.”

you nod soberly and stand up from the stool.

“wait– d’you want anything to drink, miss?”

you shake your head, shouldering your purse. “no. that’s all i came for.”

and with that you walk back out the door, frustrated but at least a little more hopeful.

joshua, sorry for taking off last night. phone me and we can do that dinner if you’d still like. #: SE-0317

the wait for joshua’s phone call is unbearable, so instead of pacing by the telephone you try to busy yourself with something more productive: getting work done for your hard-boiled boss. 

but even the pressure of his deadlines is enough to take your mind off what you’ve done. in fact, you don’t even know for sure if he’s single. for all you know you could be trying to screw a married man (though you didn’t notice a ring on his finger, but who can ever know for sure these days?)

the worst part is, you don’t even know for sure if he’s going to phone you, or if he even got your message. vernon seemed like a trustworthy guy, but maybe he and his coworkers get people like this all the time. maybe they’re having to fight off hordes of drunk, horny women with a stick. you scoff, thinking back to the last time you were at the speakeasy. that was certainly the case the other night with the flappers.

in all honesty, joshua was probably just being friendly, trying to make a repeat customer out of you. which he was successful in, of course; he had you hook, line, and sinker, and you didn’t even care. of course his offer to wine and dine you wasn’t genuine: it was a line, one he’d probably used on dozens of people, and you had fallen for it.

you’re so far deep in your own thoughts, you almost miss the sound of the telephone ringing in the other room; until you realize there’s no one else that would be calling you at this hour in the evening.

in a panic you scramble out of your chair, sprinting to the kitchen to grab the call.

“hello?” you answer, a little breathless but still holding onto hope.

“hi, sweetheart. thought you weren’t gonna pick up.”

you breathe out a sigh of relief at the man on the other end. maybe he really was sincere about everything after all, though you still don’t truly believe it.

“are you finally gonna take me out like you keep saying, or are you just tryin’ to get me to buy more drinks?” you ask, hoping he doesn’t hear the shake of nerves in your voice.

“‘course i am, baby. i don’t just go around offering dinner to every woman i meet at work, y’know.”

your cheeks warm, and you hold the receiver closer to your ear with a smile. “flattery will get you nowhere, joshua hong, but i won’t deny it, i like to hear it.”

he laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound, one that you find yourself wishing you could hear in person.

“there’s a new restaurant on the main drag that i’ve heard’s real fancy,” he starts. “been meaning to try it, so i might as well take my pretty lady along with me, too, hm?”

you chuckle, leaning against the doorframe and twirling the phone cord between your fingers. "your pretty lady, huh?"

"wouldn't say it 'f it wasn't true. you've got me wrapped around your little finger, miss," he says, and you have to bite the back of your hand to stop yourself from letting out an embarrassing noise in response.

he clears his throat, interrupting the silence on the line. “anyway, if you'd like, the speakeasy’s closed tonight for the holiday… could bring you back behind the bar after our dinner, show you a thing or two. although i got plenty of other nice things i could show you besides the drinks.”

"sounds like you got a grand evenin' planned, joshua," you say finally, swallowing your excitement.

"only for you, doll," he says, and even over the shaky static of the call you can hear the grin in his voice. "can i pick you up at 6 o'clock? just had my car waxed too; only the best for my lady."

"six is nice," you reply, still smiling.

"i'll see you then, sweetheart," he says, and the line goes silent as he ends the call. 

exhaling a shaky breath, you put the receiver back on the hook and check the time on the clock across the room. better go fix your makeup before he gets here.

at 6 o'clock sharp joshua’s car rolls up in front of your apartment, freshly waxed and polished just like he'd said. 

the drive to the new restaurant isn't far, but it feels like it stretches on for hours as you and joshua talk about anything and everything.

as for dinner, it by far isn't the best meal you've ever had, but your date's company more than makes up for the mediocre food.

as promised, after the dinner joshua drives you over to the speakeasy, using his key to open the back entrance where customers aren't allowed and lets you inside. it's an odd feeling, being alone in the space that's normally bustling with activity.

you slide into a seat at the counter as joshua grins, walking to the opposite side to stand behind the bar.

"sorry, miss, we're closed today," he says with a playful grin. "you'll have to come back tomorrow."

you giggle, playing along. "oh, but please, sir, can't you spare just a little glass of wine for me?"

the restaurants aren't allowed to serve alcohol, but even without it you feel tipsy in joshua’s presence, high on the excitement of being with him with nobody else around.

he places his hands on the counter and leans forward, his gaze meeting yours. "hmm, i could… but i think i have something better i could give you instead."

"better than wine?" you ask, pretending to be shocked. although if you've been reading this right like you think you've been, you have a feeling you know what he might be offering.

"mhm," he says, and he lifts a finger to beckon you closer.

you grin and lean forward to meet him across the counter, his lips locking with yours, and the feeling is heavenly. almost instantly you feel his hands behind your head, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. you tell yourself to fight the urge to moan, but when his lips part just enough to let his tongue slide into your mouth, all your inhibitions go out the stained-glass speakeasy windows and you decide, screw it, whatever happens, happens; not when you're having the most fun you've had in a long time and not when his touch feels this good.

he breaks away for just a second and to your surprise, jumps onto the bar and slides across, and then his hands are back on your body and he's kissing you more fervently than before.

"say the word and i'll stop, sweetheart," he moans, he really moans, but the thought of stopping doesn't even cross your mind as you pull him closer and lift your leg to wrap it behind his thigh.

before you know it, your back is against the counter and joshua is hovering over you. his large hands gently knead your breasts over the fabric of your dress and his mouth is still tangled with yours as you begin to feel heat pooling in your stomach.

"god, you drive me crazy," he breathes when your hands find his body and start to slide lower. you look up at him, one hand hovering carefully over the uncomfortably large bulge in his pants.

"please, joshua?" you ask softly, squeezing lightly around him and drawing another whine out of his gorgeous lips.

the second you hear his throaty "yes", your fingers are scrambling to undo his belt buckle and shoving his slacks down to his knees. his fingers are equally rushed, sliding over your back and quickly undoing the buttons holding up the fabric that hides your beautiful skin from his sight.

your breath hitches as he carefully slips the dress off your shoulders, watching as his eyes wander over you. he meets your eyes, fingers toying with the hem of your panties, and you nod, giving him permission.

“you’re even prettier than i imagined,” he whispers. his hands trail down your chest, mapping out every inch of your naked body.

his words barely even register, because you’re too busy staring at his hard cock. you figured he would be beautiful, but nothing you could’ve dreamed up in your wildest dreams would have even come close to what’s in front of you now. 

you reach out and take his cock in your hand, holding him delicately and observing the way his eyes flutter shut. he lets out a soft sigh at your touch, and his hands settle at your waist for a moment before he reaches to grab your hand. 

it doesn’t escape you how tiny your hand looks in comparison to his; while your fingers could barely reach all the way around his cock, his hand easily covers the space. the sight is almost hypnotizing. you carefully let go, bringing your hand up to the counter to brace yourself.

he leans down to capture your lips in another kiss, and you moan as you feel the head of his cock begin to brush through your soaking folds. he breaks away, and you look up into his dark eyes, waiting.

“been stuck on you since the first time i saw you, sweetheart,” he groans, and you feel the heat in your core grow hotter at his admission, knowing he’s been wanting this just as much as you have.

he curses under his breath, and finally he starts to fill you up. the stretch is perfect as he rocks his hips slowly back and forth, pushing into you a little more with each movement. his brows knit together in concentration, and his lips firmly press into a thin line as his gaze zeroes in on your pussy.

you look down where he’s watching, and you also can’t help but fixate on the sight of his girthy cock inside you. he’s not even nearly halfway inside you yet, but the feeling is already making you dizzy with pleasure. seeing him stretching you open, you feel the knot in your stomach begin to tighten almost instantly.

with his sleeves rolled up, you can clearly see the definition in his muscles, flexing as his hands slide across your half-clothed figure. his thick fingers hook around the straps of your bra, tugging them further down your chest to expose your breasts. he pushes his thumb into your mouth, and immediately you begin to suck on it.

he laughs, pulling his thumb out of your mouth and smearing your own spit across your nipple. “such a whore. should’ve known you would like that, my pretty slut.”

you let out a moan at his words, unintentionally clenching around him as he continues to push into you. you feel his grip on your thighs tighten, enough that you know it’ll leave bruises.

your first orgasm hits you out of nowhere when joshua bottoms out in you. the feeling of his cock sitting snugly inside of you, filling you up to the brim and then some, is enough to send you over the edge without warning. joshua curses, your cunt squeezing around his cock as you ride through your high.

“fuck, just like that, baby,” he grunts through gritted teeth, his other hand snaking down to rub at your clit. “cum all over my cock like my good girl.”

when you recover enough to breathe again, you look up to find joshua staring down at you, eyes blown wide with lust. his fingers are still on your clit, your only source of stimulation since he had stopped moving his hips once he was fully inside you.

he meets your eyes and begins to drag his cock out of you, just barely pressing an inch or two into you with slow, meticulous thrusts.

he gradually begins to build up speed, his cock perfectly hitting every sensitive part inside of you until you can’t think straight. you let your eyes close, mouth falling open in pleasure at his pace.

“god, you look so pretty when you cum,” joshua growls, and it feels like you stop breathing altogether as another orgasm slams into you, his words drawing your high out of you like a command.

this time he doesn’t give you a moment to recover, instead pulling nearly all the way out before pushing into you with so much force, you can feel him moving you back and forth across the counter with each thrust, the smooth oak grain growing sticky with sweat with each sharp snap of his hips.

already sensitive from two powerful orgasms, you cry out his name, dragging your nails along his biceps placed on either side of your face as he holds onto the counter. his thrusts get rougher, plunging into you over and over again and already beginning to build you up for another.

“sh-shua, please,” you gasp, reaching out to grab onto his shoulders for support.

the drag of his cock against your walls feels heavenly, quickly sending you hurtling into yet another orgasm that has your legs trembling around his waist. the waves of pleasure seem almost never-ending as his hips jerk into you sporadically, until finally he throws his head back and buries himself as deep as he can go inside of you, his pelvis flush against your cunt. his cock pulses inside you as his orgasm hits, feeling each spurt of cum fill you up, a satisfying feeling like you can’t even fathom.

breathing hard, you manage to drag your eyes away from where the two of you connect to glance up at his face, and the sight is one you’ll never forget: his thick eyebrows knitted tightly together and his nose scrunched up, his beautiful lips parted in a breathy, high-pitched whine.

the bar is quiet, but your ears are ringing and your head is spinning from everything that just happened. joshua stands over you, his cock still nestled in you as he breathes in and out shallowly, trying to catch his breath. you stay still, too exhausted to move until you feel his cum start to drip down your leg and you force yourself to sit up.

but his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly and you stop. you feel so secure, so grounded, despite your shaky legs dangling off the edge of the counter.

he sighs and begins pressing kisses along your neck, though this time they’re softer and gentler, instead of frantic and heated.

he kisses you once more on the cheek, then walks around to the other side of the bar to grab a towel.

“sorry about the mess,” you say shyly, reaching down to pick up your dress off of one of the barstools it had landed on. 

he comes back around, towel in hand, and kisses you again. “don’t be,” he grins, and he squats down so that he’s eye-level with your cunt, his cum still leaking out of you. you resist the urge to snap your legs closed as he gently wipes the damp towel over your skin, a little embarrassed despite him being inside you no more than a couple of minutes ago.

once he’s satisfied he lifts you up off the counter, setting you gently on the floor and helping you into your dress before putting his own clothes back on.

you slide onto a stool, watching him fondly as he walks back around to the other side of the bar and picks up another towel to wipe off the counter with.

“so,” he says finally, rolling up his sleeves with a cocky smile that makes your stomach do backflips. “what can i make you, darling?”

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38. Joker - A Love Story For The Books

* Warning: powers/abilities, murder, torture, kind of follows the storyline of Harley Quinn. *

* Synopsis: Even with your telekinetic powers, you’ve always wanted to remain normal to the world and what better way to be normal than to become a psychiatrist like your older sister, Harleen Quinzel. What you didn’t expect was to ever sit in on one of her sessions with the Joker, and neither did Harleen who had done everything in her power to keep you and him away from each other for your own safety. With your new found infatuation with the criminal clown and his amusing interest in you, what could possibly go wrong? Or right, in your opinion. *

Harleen’s dull gray heels drummed against the cold concrete that the two of you were currently walking on. The sound of her heels were accompanied by her flipping through pages on her clipboard. It had been almost thirty minutes since your older sister had spoken a single word to you but you could hear the slow huffs of her breathing as she grumbled in frustration. Harleen wasn’t angry with you, no, in fact she was more worried about you than anything; instead, she was pissed off at her boss who assigned you to her side today knowing that she was working with the Joker. Even though Harleen was seething with frustration, worry, and anger, you were ecstatic. You were tired of the same old same old everyday and you swore if you had to listen to another person talk about something that lacked any real interest again, you might actually blow your own head up. Of course you understood that not every crazy case was going to be off the walls in terms of interest but because of Harleen’s persistent worry for you in this field of work, she’d made it her life’s mission to keep you with all the snooze fest patients.

You were so lost in your rambling thoughts you hadn’t noticed Harleen had stopped until you smacked right into her. A yelp left your dusty rose lips as you quickly drew your hand up to your nose that was now throbbing in pain.

“A warning next time would be great,” you grumbled.

“Sorry,” she replied shortly, “Now listen up, okay. Whatever he says in there, you can’t listen to him. He’s going to make up some sad story about his childhood, it’s fake so don’t fall for it.”

Your eyebrow arched up quizzically, “Then why do you let him tell you something if you know it’s false?”

“Because you learn more from the patients who lie.”

Harleen didn’t say another word before placing her keycard against the lock. There was a quiet chime before the red light switched to a green light, then the sound of metal scraping against metal abused your ears as the lock came undone. The noise was so loud, you almost flinched. When the noise subsided, Harleen pulled the door open and walked inside, leaving the door open so that you could go inside too.

On the inside of this cell it was like any other cell here; there was a single bed sitting in the corner of the room with a thin mattress that didn’t even have a sheet on it; a small, paper thin blanket for them to cover up with laid folded at the end of it as if it had never been used before; in the opposite corner was a desk attached to the wall with a singular, shitty chair for sitting at. Other than those things, the room was pretty bare but most of them were. Occasionally there would be a few patients who had wall art hanging up from their family members or from themselves but it was rare.

As Harleen made her way to the rickety chair in the corner to sit down at, you finished closing the door, waiting for the lock to click. Through the window there were two guards standing at their post which was protocol when a psychiatrist entered a room with any of the patients; they were all criminally insane and at any point in time they could do something to cause harm.

There wasn’t another chair for you to sit in, so you ended up standing beside Harleen. Your eyes had been so busy everywhere else you’d failed to see the Joker sitting at the edge of his bed completely swaddled in a straight jacket. His icy blue eyes pierced right through you causing you to swallow hard on the build up of saliva collecting in your mouth. Harleen’s pen clicking was what helped you to switch your gaze away from him but you could still feel him looking at you.

“Dr. Quinzel,” the Joker purred, “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you. And I see you’ve brought a lovely guest. What’s your name, doll?”

You didn’t get a chance to answer because your sister did for you.

“You’ll address her by Dr. Quinzel too, Joker,” Harleen stated promptly, not even looking up from her clipboard.

“Two Dr. Quinzels!” He hollered delightfully, “Aren’t I the lucky one?”

When Harleen didn’t reply to his outburst, you gave him a small smile.

“I’m her younger sister,” you added, “Y/N.”

“Y/N Quinzel,” he mulled over, a grin plastered on his painted lips, “I like the sound of that.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his compliment, at least that’s what you thought it was.

“That’s enough,” Harleen said, “it’s time to get started.”

You couldn’t blame Harleen for trying to stick to her questions, she had always wanted to be a psychiatrist and she took her work incredibly serious. You pulled out the copy of questions your sister gave you and readied yourself to follow along with the conversation. You didn’t need to write anything down, that was Harleen’s job, all you needed to do was listen in and learn. It was a practice run so that eventually you could start talking to patients by yourself.

“Now, Joker,” Harleen started, “why don’t we start where we left off.”

“Right,” he chuckled, “where did we leave off, Dr. Quinzel?”

Turns out they left off talking about the Joker’s father. Like Harleen had told you, the story was sad and in your opinion, it was overly sad. And he kept changing things, making it almost impossible for you to keep up with the conversation. What you did notice was the way his eyes watched you. You weren’t sure if you should say anything, your sister’s head buried in her papers where she couldn’t see anything. Maybe that was her way of keeping things professional, she didn’t stare at her patients too long or at all. The Joker didn’t seem to mind her not paying attention to him, his gaze was fixed on you and he had no intention of looking anywhere else for the entire session. It was weird to you because even though his eyes should have been making you squirm where you were standing, it wasn’t; in fact, they felt nice. There was no other way to describe it because it was nothing you’d experienced before. It was almost predatory like but there was a hint of possessiveness. Now there was no way you were paying attention to the actual reason you were here and judging by the smirk on his ruby stained lips, he knew it too.

Before you knew it, the session was over and Harleen was thanking the Joker for his time; something she did with all her patients. She was also the first to leave the room, leaving you behind which worked out perfectly for you. You stole another glance back at the Joker, his eyes still resting on you. You swallowed hard, turning on your heel to leave, the door closing behind you. It was odd, once the door closed and locked you found yourself missing his presence. Sighing heavily, you shook your head and ran after Harleen, grateful that you had worn converse instead of heels like she did.

For the next couple of weeks you joined Harleen in her sessions with the Joker; after about the fifth session, you’d been upgraded to a chair which worked for your aching feet. Harleen was gathering her belongings when the Joker decided to press his luck in having an actual conversation with you.

“How are you liking your chair?” He questioned, “I’ve noticed you swaying on the balls of your heels for the last couple of sessions. Couldn’t see you in any pain any longer so I asked one of the guards to bring you your own chair.”

You hadn’t noticed before but you had even started massaging your ankles trying to remove some of the swollenness, even now you were doing it even though you’d been sitting. Though sitting in this chair for a mere hour didn’t compare to the rest of the day when you were on your feet.

“Oh,” you said, meeting his eyes and pulling your hand away from your ankle, “thank you, that was very kind. It actually feels nice to get off of my feet for even just an hour.”

“That’s so good to hear.”

“Y/N.”

Harleen’s voice sliced through your conversation like a freshly sharpened knife causing you to flinch.

“It’s time to go.”

She was holding her notes against her chest, staring at you knowingly.

“Right!” You said, hopping out of your seat, “right. Let’s get moving then.”

Before you and Harleen had left the room, the head doctor, Dr. Louis, poked his head in. There were two guards accompanying him for his own protection; a lot of these psychotic criminals would enjoy getting their hands on him so he needed to be watched over constantly.

“Ah, I thought I’d find the two of you here. I just wanted to let you guys know that from now on Y/N will be taking the Joker as her patient. Harleen, you’ll be seeing after our newest patient.”

“What?” Harleen and I said at the same time.

It wasn’t in the same tone: Harleen’s was more disbelieving while yours was more exciting. You had started working here a year ago but had never been allowed to take on patients by yourself. You always accompanied another doctor with their patient which is why you were so damn bored with it. Unless you were a high level doctor like Harleen or Dr. Louis, you didn’t get to see the incredibly dangerous criminal patients that they harbored here at Arkham. It astonished you that Dr. Louis was trusting you with the most dangerous patient here. Of course it might have something to do with your telekinesis, you could easily apprehend the Joker with your mind if you wanted to.

“We have a new patient coming in, she’ll need a lot of your attention, Harleen. I’m sure with Y/N’s skills, she’ll be able to handle this clown with ease.”

You stole a glance at the Joker who was now laying back on his bed with an amused look on his face, unbothered by Dr. Louis’ choice of words.

“You hear me, Joker,” Dr. Louis added, “your new doctor will now be Y/N Quinzel, so get use to seeing her face.”

He grinned wickedly, “I look forward to a fresh, new, beautiful face.”

Dr. Louis left the cell with Harleen running after him in protest, leaving you alone with the Joker for the first time. You turned to the table where Harleen had thrown her things down at the sudden news. All of the papers were scattered now, some even littering the floor, making you huff.

“My,” the Joker chuckled, “she’s trying so hard to keep you away from me.”

“Don’t pay her any mind,” you said, kneeling down to pick up her discarded papers, “she’s just protective of her little sister, is all.”

He didn’t say anything and the silence between the two of you was peaceful. You finished gathering all of Harleen’s papers before standing up and turning to him.

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” you state.

“Guess so,” he sang, still grinning from ear to ear.

For the first time since you’ve been sitting in on these sessions, you smiled back. The way you went about things was completely different from your sisters: whereas she was cold and distant, you felt that it made things easier to be friendly towards the patients, it helped them trust you just a bit more. Without another word, you gave a slight wave and left the room, listening as the doors locked behind you.

The next day you were over the moon since it was your first day being alone with the patient. The night before you stayed up planning every question you could possibly think to ask. You had to ignore Harleen’s countless calls because you knew she was only calling to warn you once again about the Joker’s routine antics. It felt like she didn’t think you could do this but it was ridiculous because you knew you were more prepared than anyone could be.

Pulling an all nighter was probably the worst thing you could have done, on top of the two large coffees that you had plus a third. All of that caffeine was making your heart beat fast but you ignored it, not wanting to be sent home or to the ER on your first day. Like usual, you entered the Joker’s cell, this time alone, and saw the shadow of two guards outside the door. The Joker was sitting in his bed in an upright position as if he had been waiting for you for hours, though you knew that wasn’t true.

“Good morning, Dr. Quinzel,” he greeted.

“Good morning, Joker,” you returned, “and please, just call me Y/N. I’m not really into formalities.”

“Then it’s only fair that you call me Mister J,” he smiled, “it’s what all my friends call me.”

You smiled. “Then let’s get started, Mister J.”

Your first therapy session with the Joker went as well as you expected, of course you didn’t think anything he said was the truth but it amazed you that he could come up with so many different ways to lie about his family life. You didn’t mind the lies, it kind of felt like a new story being read to you everyday which is what you wanted in the beginning.

As you were writing down what the Joker said, you noticed the Joker squirming around his spot.

“Everything okay?” You asked, folding your writing hand over your clipboard.

“Sitting like this for so long makes you kind of stiff,” he grumbled.

His discomfort seemed genuine and you hated it when people were uncomfortable.

“Is your…your jacket too tight?” You asked.

“A bit. But nothing I can’t handle, doll. Now where were we?”

You took a deep breath, thinking of probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever thought of. Only the guards had the keys to the most dangerous criminals white jackets but with your telekinesis you could easily undo it and give him a bit of freedom.

“I could help you.”

He brought his icy blue eyes up to meet your gaze.

“And how could you do that?” He questioned curiously.

“I could remove your jacket. Just until our session is over, then it’ll have to go back on.”

He didn’t seem to understand, everyone knew doctors didn’t carry keys to undo the jackets as well as they didn’t care if the patient was uncomfortable. The question for him was how were you planning to remove the jacket without a key and why would you do something like that?

“How?”

The Joker watched your eyes flutter shut before he realized that his white jacket was starting to undo itself. There was the soft clinking of the locks before they clattered to the floor, the fabric started to untangle itself too, giving the Joker some room to even just wiggle around. That left another question in his head: were you doing this with your mind?

Soon the entire jacket had been removed from his body leaving him shirtless; the jacket was now neatly folded and sitting beside him on his bed. For the first time in months, the Joker was able to move his arms. Standing to his feet, the Joker stretched his arms and popped his back. By then, you had opened your eyes again and were watching his every single move. Not because you didn’t trust him but because it fascinated you to see even someone like the Joker finding satisfaction in being able to stretch his arms out. You honestly didn’t think anything bothered him but clearly you were wrong.

“Feeling better?” You quizzed, pulling yourself up from your chair.

It had been awhile since you had used your telekinesis so it made you dizzy to stand up so fast. You swayed a bit on your feet before tumbling forward, only to be caught by the Joker with his newly free hands. It was the least he could do since you took his chains off.

“I feel fantastic, doll,” he hummed, grinning from ear to ear, “how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling fine,” you muttered, steadying yourself on your feet, “I haven’t done that in awhile.”

“And what exactly was that that you did?”

“I used my telekinesis to remove your jacket. And later, I’ll use it again to put the jacket back on you.”

Finally you were able to stand on your own so you released the Joker’s broad arms, smiling a thank you to him.

“We have twenty-five minutes left until our session is over, so you have that long to get in as much exercise as you need. We can talk while you do so, it won’t bother me.”

So that’s what the Joker did. As the two of you spoke about his falsified childhood while he did whatever exercise he needed to do. When those twenty-five minutes were up, you quickly put on his jacket before the guards came to escort you out like they did at the end of every session.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mister J.”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

And that’s how it went for the next couple of months. You would sit with the Joker and discuss a new family situation, never really getting anywhere new, while he was able to freely roam around in his cell while working out his arms from all the knots that were in them. What you weren’t expecting was to fall in love with him. He was kind, sweet, and always asked how your day was going like he actually cared. You didn’t know if he truly did or not but the interest in his voice was much needed, especially lately.

“Oh, kitten,” the Joker purred, getting closer to you, “you seem in a foul mood today. Is everything okay?”

You tore your eyes away from your papers, there weren’t many questions today and it seemed like the questions list was dwindling more and more everyday.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat, “I’m fine. There’s just a lot going on at home.”

Despite how hard you had been working, you never seemed to meet your parents’ expectations and their expectations were high considering they wanted you to be exactly like Harleen. And more frequently you’d been going over there with Harleen to have family dinners and somehow you never seemed to get the same praise you felt you deserved. Instead, your parents were always finding ways to critique your work, never seeming to understand that you had earned your patient’s trust rather than ignoring their basic needs as human beings. They had said on countless occasions that they wished you were more like your older sister, and you’d be lying if you didn’t say it hurt your self esteem a bit.

“No need to worry yourself about my home troubles, Mister J. Tell me-”

“Ah, ah,” he said, his fingers gripping your chin so you couldn’t look away, “I’m more interested in what you have to say. You can tell me.”

For some reason it really felt like you could tell him. So all of a sudden you found yourself crying out your complaints to the Joker as he consoled you; it was like he was the therapist and you were the criminal in need of some real mental help. And the way he soothed you made you fall in love with him more and more. He patted your back while you wiped away a few tears; you were grateful that you skipped wearing any makeup today even if you looked like you hadn’t slept in weeks. The Joker had his hooks in you and he knew it. By the next session, you’d be ready to give him anything he asked for and he knew just what he needed to make his escape.

The next session, you felt better than before and you had a little more pep in your step too. You were clenching your notepad in your arms as you sped off towards the Joker’s cell. You couldn’t help the feeling in your chest that made you excited to see him and honestly you hoped that he felt the same way. Today you brought him a present, something to brighten up his little area and hopefully make him smile some more. Once again you heard the slow, loud clicking of the metal locks before you pushed the door open. As routine, the door closed behind you and the guards stood outside ready for whatever. However, the inside of the room was just a bit different. There was a table now in the center of the room with two chairs sitting on either side of it. It was a new accessory that was a bit different then what you were use to. The Joker was already sitting patiently at one end of the table, a grin plastered over his painted lips.

“Dr. Quinzel,” he said, “my favorite part of the day.”

“We’ve been over this, Mister J,” you laughed, “just call me Y/N.”

That made his smile wider.

You took your seat across from him, your notepad finding its permanent spot in front of you on the table.

“I got you something,” you said happily.

“What have you got?” He purred.

“Got you a kitty.” You pulled out the stuffed cat and started playing with its little paws.

“So thoughtful.”

As usual, you used your telekinesis to undo his jacket giving him free range to move around. However, he didn’t get up and move around like usual, instead, he sat in front of you just eyeing your every move. You felt nervous under his gaze, a light blush sketching into your cheeks as you tried to look away. You finally built up the confidence to make eye contact with the Joker.

This therapy session wasn’t going anywhere near how they normally went. He was much more flirtatious than usual and you found yourself watching him with eyes filled with admiration, care, and love. You were so lost in his eyes and words that you didn’t realize how close the two of you had gotten, your face merely inches away from his own. You don’t know how it happened but you had fallen in love with him, and despite your brain telling you how stupid it was to be in love with him, your heart yearned for him. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for him and he knew it.

“Should we get started?” You asked, trying to put some space between the two of you.

“Actually Doctor,” the Joker hummed, “there’s something you can do for me.”

“Anything,” you said a bit too excitedly before correcting your tone, “I mean, yeah, of course.”

He shifted. “I need a machine gun.”

The request caught you off guard and your head was screaming at you to stop listening to him like your sister had told you to.

“A machine gun?”

A big, toothy grin stretched from ear to ear.

You knew you shouldn’t do it. That you should warn the guards about his plans. But the way he stared at you, you felt intoxicated and ignored every rational sense you had.

You just weren’t expecting what came next.

You had used your telekinesis to sneak the Joker a machine gun late in the evening, as well as distorting the cameras so you didn’t get caught. You figured he just needed the machine gun to escape, go back to his busy life causing chaos in Gotham. But he had other plans before he went back to his normal shenanigans.

Before you knew it, gunshots were flying through the halls of Arkham as people dressed in animal costumes. Guards were falling down as more and more bullets pierced their skin; you ran, trying to find some coverage while you repeatedly asked yourself what you had done. This wasn’t what you wanted, not even in the slightest. You tried to sneak away, but in the end you were snatched up by some guy in a suit and another guy in a costume. You screamed, thrashing yourself around trying to loosen their grip but they were too strong for you physically. You don’t know why it didn’t come to you, your mind running so fast that you completely overlooked your telekinesis.

The two men strapped you down to what you think was a gurney.

“Get off me!” You snapped through gritted teeth, trying with all your might to push them off.

But in the end, they got the best of you and were able to strap you down. It was only then did you remember your telekinesis, however, the Joker made an appearance distracting you entirely.

“What do we have here?” He grinned, waving his hands around.

He positioned the light above the gurney in front of your face causing you to squint momentarily.

“I did everything you said,” you rasped, “I helped you.”

The Joker just watched you for a second before laughing quietly, anger prominent in his voice as he spoke.

“You helped me by erasing my mind? What few…faded memories…I had left!”

With each word, he slammed his fist against the cushioned gurney. You’d have flinched if you hadn’t loved him so much. You watched him run a hand through his messy green hair.

“Oh. You left me in a black hole of rage and confusion. Is that the medicine you practice, Dr. Quinzel?” He snapped his purple glove.

You shook your head.

“What are you gonna do? You gonna kill me, Mister J?” You asked.

He reached beside you, taking hold of the equipment that some doctors used to erase patients memories of traumatic events in their life. You swallowed a lump in your throat.

“Oh, I’m not gonna kill ya,” he grinned, rotating the shock sticks beside your head, “I’m just gonna hurt ya. Really…really…bad.”

All of a sudden, the small amount of fear you felt in your body was gone. You no longer felt anything but a want to prove that you could handle what he dished out.

“You think so?” You asked, your body no longer shaking, “Well, I can take it.”

The Joker snapped his belt off and folded it in half making a snapping sound as he tightened it. Then he placed the leather material into your mouth making a barrier between your teeth.

“I wouldn’t want you to break those perfect, porcelain cap teeth when the juice hits your brain.”

Then all of a sudden you felt the electroshock surge through your head and you tensed up, your back arching off the gurney. Your telekinesis had a mind of its own while you were incapacitated; the leather straps holding you snapped themselves in half, a table was thrown against the wall, and the lights shattered. It all excited the Joker more and more, making him understandably curious about you but knowing that this was the end of the line for both of you. He’d always have you sketched into his brain and he knew he had left a permanent mark in yours. He just failed to realize that you wouldn’t give up on him just because he caused you a lot of pain.

You practically made it your mission to seek him out; you quit your job much to your families surprise, and you spent every waking day mumbling to yourself as you searched for the Joker. He wasn’t a hard man to track down and when you did manage to find him, he always seemed to need something that involved your telekinesis. You didn’t mind but you had hoped that all of your help would make him consider taking you in and making you his. But it never seemed to work out that way and you were finally getting frustrated, even desperate for him to acknowledge your love for him.

One night you were waiting on the side of the road outside his club, hoping he’d come out and see you. However, you were left disappointed again when you saw him in his purple Lamborghini, driving to God knows where not even sparing you a second glance. You had half a mind to flip it over, show him you aren’t someone to ignore but you didn’t want to hurt him, instead you stole someone’s motorcycle, using your powers to shatter the chain that was used to keep it from being stolen. The owner didn’t know he’d have to protect his bike from thieves with telekinetic powers. And who could blame him as these abilities weren’t common, even in Gotham.

You followed the Joker on the bike, speeding up so that you could catch up to him. Finally you were able to pull up beside him, looking his way in hopes he’d notice you. He did, of course, but his reaction wasn’t one that thrilled you. He pulled his hand up beside him as if trying to block you from his line of sight. Hurt and anger surged through your veins as you let out an irritated yell. You sped up, taking the lead in front of him. Little parts inside you could feel his annoyance creeping across your skin but you didn’t care. Once you were a good distance away, making sure by looking back, you turned the motorcycle on its side and let it scrap against the midnight black paint. Sparks flew and you were positive that the paint on the side was done for. When the bike came to a stop, you hoped off of the part you had been standing on and planted yourself firmly in front of it, any fear in your bones having been erased that day in Arkham.

To anyone looking at it, it looked like the Joker had no intention of stopping but instead had every intention of running you down in the road. However, with an annoyed grunt and a roll of his eyes, he came to a quick, jerky stop.

“You…”

“You’re not leaving me. You’re not leaving me!” You yelled, slamming your palms into the metal of his vehicle.

“You…you really are a pain in the ass.”

Just as the Joker exited his vehicle, an eighteen wheeler pulled up behind him.

“I have done everything you said. Every test, every trial, every initiation. I have proved I love you. Just accept it.” You pleaded, tears pricking the corner of your shining eyes.

He lifted his hands, “Got it, got it, got it, got it. I am not someone who is loved.”

He clapped his hands in front of your face.

“I’m an idea. A state of mind.”

The eighteen wheeler started honking while the Joker spoke. But it didn’t deter him.

“I execute my will according to my plan and you, doctor, are not part of my plan.”

He had done a complete circle around you and was now standing back in front of you, so you pulled your hands up to touch his face. His skin felt nice against your own, almost like they were made for each other and you wondered why he didn’t see that.

Once again, the eighteen wheeler honked this time more frequently.

“Let me in,” you pleaded, “just let me in. I promise I won’t hurt you!”

He had pulled himself away from you, laughing at your words just as the trucker exited the drivers seat of the eighteen wheeler.

“A promise, promise…ha…ha…ha…”

“Hey dickface!” The trucker yelled, “Mind screaming at your bitch somewhere else.”

The Joker continued to laugh, completely ignoring the trucker. Your mind moved on its own and soon the Joker’s personalized gun was removed from his leather jacket. It floated through the air before your mind pulled the trigger, shooting the asshole who was interrupting your conversation. His body fell to the ground with a thud.

“I was gonna say,” the Joker said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

He had stolen a quick glance at the dead trucker before returning his gaze to you, this time the floating gun pointed directly at him. The cool metal barely grazed his deathly pale flesh. He rested his forehead against the barrel of the gun and raised his hands up playfully, grinning.

“Don’t hurt me,” he joked, “I’ll be your friend.”

You held your gaze, never tearing your eyes away from the gun letting it continue to float as your mind willed it to do. The Joker hummed, his voice deepening as his smile and joking behavior disappeared.

“Do it. Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it.”

“My heart scares you,” you gritted, “but a gun doesn’t?”

“Do it!”

But you couldn’t and he knew you couldn’t. So within a mere second, he snatched his gun out of the air and your mind stopped buzzing. A headache growing from the overuse of your ability. You were mentally exhausted and the Joker could only laugh, pushing his own gun against the side of his head.

“God, if you weren’t so crazy, I’d think you were insane.”

He was glaring at you now, his expression dark and uncalculating. A few tears slipped off of your face and dropped onto the ground as you stared at the man you told yourself you loved. Even now.

“Go. Away.” He said.

He left you standing there, getting back in his Lamborghini and driving off. You choked back a few sobs, using the back of your hand to wipe away your tears before walking in the opposite direction he had driven off in. What you didn’t see was the Joker watching you through his rear view mirror. Even though he kept trying to deny it, you were interesting and the more interesting he thought you were, the more captivated he felt by your presence. He knew you loved him but he wasn’t sure how he felt about you. He took his eyes off of you for a split second and when he tried to look at you again, you were gone. It was almost like you had never been there, at least that’s what he would have thought had the dead trucker not been laying in the road still.

Grumbling to himself and slamming his hands against the steering wheel, the Joker pulled a sharp u-turn, the tires screeching against the cement road. Hitting the gas pedal as hard as he could, the Joker sped off to find you, wondering why he couldn’t keep you out of his own thoughts.

He found you not too far away from where the two of you had conversed. You had your arms wrapped around your body as you walked, sulking harder with each step. Quickly, almost harshly, the Joker yanked his car in front of you causing you to stop walking. Your eyes widened as he climbed out of the driver's seat and made his way to the passenger’s seat. Quirking an eyebrow upwards, you watched as he opened the door and looked at you.

“Well,” he muttered when you didn’t move, “get in.”

It was a small gesture, even after your conversation with him just a second ago, but you still smiled hard and hopped into the passenger’s side. He closed the door behind you, got back in his own seat, and sped off, not telling you where the two of you were headed.

You weren’t expecting to be taken to a chemical plant. The words “Ace Chemicals'” faded into the building walls telling you this place had been out of use for some time. It smelled too and you had to hold your breath until you could stomach whatever that stench was.

The Joker watched you intently as your eyes wandered taking in everything it passed. He was fascinated by how curious your little head could be but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

Finally the two of you reached a room that was layered with nine vats of chemicals at the bottom. The Joker and you were standing on top of the black, metal that held you above the acid. The metal was slick with water from whatever but really it was as safe as could be. You followed the Joker to the edge before peering down at the vats of chemicals that covered the floor. They were bubbly and made weird hissing noises making you wonder if they were incredibly hot.

“Question,” the Joker started causing you to look away from the chemicals and up at him, “would you die for me?”

“Yes.”

You didn’t even hesitate with your answer.

“That’s too easy,” he muttered, “would you…would you live for me?”

The question meant something so different than his first. Life was cruel and there were so many things to hate about life, dying was easy because there was no suffering. So in a sense, he was asking you if you’d suffer for him. Which you would.

“Hmm?”

“Yes.”

“Careful,” he whispered, “do not say this oath thoughtlessly.”

He brought his tattooed hand up to your face, his fingers grazing your cheeks causing you to shiver. His touch had you so intoxicated that it felt like you were drunk from a whole day's worth of drinking.

“Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes…power.”

His fingers traced over your face, slowly sliding down the sides of your cheeks barely gripping your chin until he rested his finger against your lips. His eyes flickered hungrily at your mouth and you desperately wanted to close the gap between the two of you.

“You want this?”

Again, you didn’t hesitate. “I do.”

He tilted his head back, keeping his hand on you.

“Say it,” he rasped, “say it. Say it. Pretty, pretty, pretty…”

His voice got softer until it faded and you felt your heart throb with both love and lust.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“God,” he chirped, “you’re so…good.”

He gestured to the edge of where you two were standing. You walked over to it and peered down at the vats of chemicals again. Your logic was screaming at you to change your mind but you couldn’t afford to listen to it. You were almost there, he was almost yours entirely. All you had to do was fall into the chemical and he’d have you. You turned to face the Joker, his eyes watching you intently. You extended your arms before falling backwards letting gravity carry you. The cool air felt nice against your skin as you plummeted; your eyes fluttered close as you thought about all of the things that you were about to experience. While most people would be terrified if they were in this current situation, you found peace with it.

The Joker peered over the edge and watched your body splash into the dangerous liquid. He had finally done it. He’d gotten rid of you. He turned on his heel and headed towards the exit. However he wasn’t able to make it past a few steps as he remembered all of the kind things you had done for him throughout his time of knowing you. Using your telekinesis, you had given him a small amount of freedom from the straight jacket he’d been chained up in for months. You didn’t snap at him or say anything to him out of anger like most the doctors did, you seemed to actually care for him. Even after he tricked you into giving him the machine gun and using the electroshock therapy on you, you still wanted him. And for some reason that filled the Joker with a sense of guilt that he didn’t even think he could feel. With a low growl, the Joker removed his leather jacket hurriedly and went back to the ledge where he jumped in after you.

He reached forward and took hold of your sinking body, pulling you tightly against his body. You fit perfectly against his muscular frame. The two of you floated back to the top, the Joker’s lips on yours filling your lungs with life. You let out a soft gasp as he pulled away, your eyes staring into his as you searched for a trick but you couldn’t find one. He leaned down again, your fingers finding their way to the back of his head, and the two of you kissed.

After only seconds, the Joker pulled away, keeping you wrapped in his arms, and started laughing. The color from your clothes mixing with his. You smiled, pulling yourself closer to him. He was yours, and you were his. Forever.

[teejaywyatt1]

Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Suicide Squad (2016), DC Extended Universe, Batman - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Original Female Character(s), Joker (DCU)/Reader, Joker (DCU)/You Characters: Joker (DCU), Batman Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Content, Drugged Sex, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Dominance, Rough Sex, Violence, Clubbing, Gang Violence, Organized Crime Summary:

To think a night partying with friends would get you involved with an infamous, psychopathic crime lord was ludicrous...and yet here you are. (Black reader insert fic.

[monstrousvoice]

Bar Snack

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Relationship: Husk X Female Reader

AN: It is 4am and I wake up. I see this post and am struck with the desire to write smut.

I do so.

Tags: PWP, Female Reader, Reader has a vulva, Cunnilingous, Sex in a Public Space, Daddy Kink, Mentions of Husk being on the chubbier side, If I missed any tags please let me know

Read on AO3!

“J-just hold still, alright?”

“You mister, have had too much!” You laugh, even as you let Husk manhandle you onto the bar top. The tips of his claws prick at the soft flesh of your hips and the sting has you biting your lip and hissing in pleasure. Husk's ears twitch and rotate to face you, taking in every noise you make. His golden eyes lock on to you, pupils dilating and contracting rapidly. He lets out a low growl.

“So what? Just…just need to hear you, need to-...to taste you a little, baby-” He leans forward, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing your scent. You wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him closer to you. You feel his teeth ever so gently graze across your neck, following the coarse feeling of his tongue as he licks you without shame. A sudden nip has your hips bucking towards the counter edge and against his own, your legs wrapping tight around his hips. 

You can feel him, his hardening cock slipping out of his sheath and pressing against you. His wings flutter before you, tense with the muscles in his back as Husk makes it his mission to suck a hickey onto every available spot of your neck and shoulders. His claws, still on your hips, dip underneath the edge of the dress you have on, pushing the fabric up to stay bunched up around your waist.

“W-what if-what if someone comes in-?” Your voice is no better than a whisper, your breath stolen by the attention being lavished upon you. Even as you worry, your hand moves from its clawed grip on his shoulder to travel down, and you smirk in victory when you find your prize. You cup Husk's growing bulge, outlining the shape of his hard cock and balls through his pants. You give his balls a gentle squeeze and are rewarded with his hips bucking into your hand, wings flaring, and a bite on your shoulder that does nothing to muffle his possessed growl. 

You keen, proud of yourself. 

“F-fuckin slut-” He hisses against your tender new mark. “Acting so worried but you go and do that.” His tone is harsh, but the gentle lapping of his tongue shows he's anything but angry. 

“Just because my Daddy doesn't-” You moan, interrupted as his paw moves to your cunt and presses. “-m-make the best decisions, doesn't mean I'm not gonna take care of him~” Husk chuckles, a deep, low sound that vibrates through your body. Your hips are moving on their own, rocking your hot core against the fingers still pushing that maddening pressure against you. Your slick is leaking through your panties and you know he can feel it. 

“You do take care of me, don't ya baby doll?” The tenderness in his voice is unexpected but not unwelcome. Husk hooks a finger from his free hand under chin, turning you to look him in the eye. “You’re always there for me, bad day or no…my good girl.” His pupils are wide and fuzzy, and the tenderness you see directed at you is almost too much to bear. You practically freeze, locked under those eyes as he leans forward and kisses you with such softness it feels dream-like. You press back, welcoming his affection with a moan of bliss and fluttering eyelashes.

His tongue meets with yours as the fingers pressed against your cunt move again. You feel the pressure ease away and almost whine into the kiss, before feeling his claws hook under the fabric of your panties. The sound of seams ripping hits you, and you're distantly aware that you are, yet again, down another pair of panties. You don't really mind though, not when losing them leads to situations like this. 

Husk's claws are back to your drooling slit, tracing up and down with a sort of reverence. Your pussy feels hot and slick, and Husk groans low in his chest when he uses two fingers to spread your lips, your arousal drenching his fingers. He pulls away from kissing you and you pathetically chase after him for more. He presses another quick one to your bruising lips, then another when you keep following after him. 

“Alright baby-” He grunts, and you press more kisses to his muzzle, trying to bring him back for more. “C-c’mon sweet girl-no more…” You stop, leaning hard into his chest, the weight of his tummy pressing into yours. You whimper and bite your bottom lip, wanting to protest but knowing better than to do so. You try to plead instead. 

“Pl-please daddy? Just, fuck, just a couple more while you f-fuck me? Please?” You grind your cunt against his fingers as you beg, unashamed at the possibility that someone else in the hotel could walk in to find you moaning like a whore for the bartender's touch.

“No baby, no, cause I'm not gonna fuck you-” Your heart drops at his words, desperation and fear immediately setting in. Your mind races with things you could have done to deserve a punishment tonight, and you watch with wide eyes as Husk lowers himself to his knees before you. 

“Yet.” He hisses. Relief floods you instantly, and by the mischievous glint in his eye, Husk knows how worked up his words made you. He chuckles and moves his hands to your thighs, cupping them and pushing them apart to give himself a first-class view of your cunt. You bite your bottom lip and look away, closing your eyes as your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You can feel his paws move closer to your pussy, until his thumbs are suddenly touching. He plays with your lips for a moment, his thumbs spreading your slick everywhere before hooking them and spreading you open.

Your cunt is forced to gape before his eyes, fluttering with arousal despite the mortification burning you alive. 

“Fuck, what a pretty cunt. Already this wet from some kisses and rubbing? Heh, you're dripping on the floor at this point.” You whimper and keen, peaking an eye open to look down at him. His eyes are like molten gold as he stares back at you. 

“Don't be embarrassed baby girl, it's alright. Daddy’s gonna clean up your mess.” You barely have time to process his words before he leans forward and trails one long lick up your pussy. Your hips buck immediately at the feeling of his rough tongue against you, pushing your hips up into his muzzle. 

“S-s-sorry Daddy-!” You whimper, but Husk doesn't stop. He simply wraps one of his thick, heavy arms over your hips and pins you to the bar top, licking away at your cunt like he doesn't have a care in hell. You shudder and gasp, your hips twitching to grind against his mouth for more than rough kitten licks but unable to with his arm pinning you down. The knowledge makes your blood burn hotter, seeing how easy it is for him to control and manipulate your body to his will. His claws dig into the fat of your thigh and hip as he eats you out like a five-star meal. 

You feel his tongue wiggle inside, your gummy walls clenching down in response to squeeze a cock that isn't there. Husk lets out a purr in response, the only sound in the hotel bar besides the slick ‘slurp’ noises he makes as he sucks your clit like it's his favorite piece of candy. You can only throw your head back against the bar and endure his assault, wishing that the sweet torture would never end. 

“D-Daddy, fuck-! Please, please d-don't stop, please-” Your words start to slur together as you beg for more. You bring a shaking hand from your face to your hips, gripping the paw holding you down like a lifeline. A sharp nip to the hood of your clit has you gasping, sitting up straight to look down at your boyfriend with shock. He doesn't stop, still lapping away at your fluttering cunt. His eyes are hooded, taking in the sight of you sitting above him, losing your mind on his talented tongue. He pulls away from his feast only briefly to rumble a command at you. 

“Hold my head baby, don't let go.”

You do as you’re told, taking your hand not holding his and carding it through the fur on top of his head. Husk lets out a pleased rumble before diving back in, suckling your swollen clit without mercy. You cry out, throwing your head back and gasping at the sensation. 

You're so close, you can feel the coil in your cunt, the pleasure shooting through your veins that lets you know your orgasm is on its way-you just need-need a little more-

A new sound reaches your ears, wet and slick like the sounds coming from your cunt, but just off ever so slightly-

You look down at Husk, his eyes closed as he loses himself to your taste. You can see his breath steam up as he snorts from his nose, drowning in your smell. Looking down further you see it, past the wonderful thick belly you nuzzle into every night. Husk has undone his pants one handed while eating you out, and his free hand, you hadn't even noticed it leaving your thigh, was fisted around his cock. Pink and red peaked at you from between his fingers as he tried to jerk himself in unison with his mouth as he ate you out. A thick glob of precum was drooling from his cock head, getting swiped up by his thumb to make his hand move slicker, only to be immediately replaced by more. 

A full body shudder tore through you at the sight, your own mouth drooling with the desire to have that fat cock shoved down your throat as Husk moaned for you. It was enough, and your cunt squeezed tight around nothing as Husk licked and sucked your clit.

“C-cumming-” You gave a breathless cry, hips bucking in vain against Husk's strong grip, your orgasm tearing through you with an intensity that had your toes curling and thighs squeezing tight around Husk's head. He simply moaned low in response, lost in the feeling of your thighs squeezing and your hand pulling his fur as you lost yourself to him. He continued lapping at your swollen and puffy cunt, making sure not one drop of your cum was forgotten by his tongue. Even as your body fell boneless under him, he kept licking and sucking, moving to the meat of your thighs to leave hickeys and bite marks as you recovered and learned how to be alive again. 

“How ya feeling baby doll? Talk to me.” He spoke, his voice sounding gravely and deep even to himself, thick with lust he hasn't had a chance to relieve yet. He tucked his still hard cock back inside his pants, zipping it up just enough to keep himself from popping back out. He stood back up, leaning over your limp body on the tabletop. You gave him a dazed smile from where you lay.

“G-good…thank you Daddy, for letting me cum…” Husk smiled, pulling you in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue. You whimpered into his mouth as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you off the bar top and into his arms. Your legs wrapped around his hips immediately, your still sensitive pussy being pressed against his hard cock, covered in fabric. He pulled away from your kiss, adjusting you in his grip as he began walking towards the hotel elevator. 

“Glad you enjoyed yourself, baby.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek as he walked. “Now, you're gonna be a good doll and let Daddy have his turn, yeah? I need a tight little hole to fuck~” He growled in your ear. You felt the vibrations from his chest travel through your whole body. Despite cumming already, your pussy throbbed at his words, and you moaned. 

“Y-yes Daddy, whatever you want-” You managed to whimper, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he carried you to your shared bedroom.

~~~~~~~

The following morning, Husk walked behind the bar to find a note folded with his name on it. He raised a feathered eyebrow, feeling curious as he opened it. It was Charlie's neat cursive. 

Husk,

Nifty found a rather…interesting piece of clothing early this morning when cleaning. I frankly don't want to know what you two were doing last night, I don't need details, but I do ask that you clean up after yourselves at least. 

Thank you! 

Husk snorted, pocketing the note to show you and laugh about later. He supposed now he and the princess were even, considering the sight he had walked in on in the kitchen just a week ago.

[izels-writing]

j. potter — tutoring

Pairing: james potter x fem!loner!reader

Summary: james potter is failing potions and you seem to be his only saving grace

Warnings: nothing tbh, i may have based reader off of me a little too much so i apologize for that in advance 😭, also this is kinda all over the place but i hit a writers block and thought this was cute

james potter sat boredly in professor slughorn's office, counting the brinks on the ceiling of the dungeon. he had been waiting for at least fifteen minutes and if he waited one more second in silence, his head would explode.

slughorn, within the next minute, finally entered the office—clearing his throat and sitting in front of james with an air of seriousness. james sat up straighter, waiting for the professor to begin speaking.

"mister potter, we need to seriously talk about your grades in this class," slughorn began. he opened his desk and pulled out many of james' half-assed essays, most of them marked with d's and p's. james groaned quietly, throwing his head back.

"if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were doing it on purpose. but i know you, mister potter," slughorn continued, "i know you've always had a rocky relationship with this subject. what's been going on lately?"

james frowned. "i can't focus, okay? it's like trying to sit through a lesson in the middle of a quidditch match, i'm too...i dunno, distracted?"

slughorn nodded. "i see... have you talk to your parents about this?"

"no, and you can't tell them," james rushed out. "i don't want to worry them, they worry easily,"

slughorn sighed, covering his mouth as he reviewed all of james' essays. he thought for a moment, which only piqued james' curiosity. slughorn glanced between him and the essays, before leaning back in his chair.

"i can arrange you a tutor, one that can help you with this problem..." slughorn finally said. james lit up, hoping and praying it was who he thought it was.

"lily evans?" he asked hopefully.

"no," slughorn replied. james lost slight interest, but nodded anyway. "and if i arrange this for you, i want you to take this seriously..do you understand, mister potter? or else i'll be forced to tell your parents,"

james nodded in agreement. "of course, sir, thank you,"

if james potter was anything, he was respectful. his mother had taught him that much.

"if i may ask, sir, if it's not lily evans—who is it?" he asked curiously.

slughorn smiled warmly. "i'll let you know soon,"

——

you tapped your foot anxiously, glancing at your watch with a frown. you didn't necessarily have anywhere to be, but it sure irked you when someone was late. not to mention, you definitely felt you should've said no when slughorn approached you.

but you were ever the people pleaser.

as you turned to throw your stuff in your bag, you suddenly saw a tall, lean boy throw himself into the seat in front of you. you stopped your actions, looking at the boy in front of you with slightly furrowed eyebrows as he breathed heavily and looked disheveled.

"you're five minutes late," you commented, scanning him over as he tried to adjust himself comfortably.

"i know, i know," james sighed. "i apologize, really, i had no idea how long that other thing would take,"

you tried to be a hard ass, but the boy seemed tired as it was so you softened up a bit. you softened your expression, but not too much that he'd notice, and nodded. "i understand,"

he looked at you shocked, but you ignored his gaze as you pulled out your textbook. additionally, you pulled out a spare parchment and your secret weapon. he did the same, except he pulled out a quill instead of a spare piece of parchment.

"slughorn told me your problems. i understand," you continued. he scoffed.

"you're the smartest in our year, how could you possibly understand?" james asked.

you blinked at him. "because, i happen to have the same problem. now, i'm not sure if you have trouble focusing in general or if you just suck at potions, what i do know is that i can help—unless you don't want me to and slughorn will be forced to tell your parents..."

james looked at you in disbelief. "he told you?!"

madam pince shushed him from the other side of the library and he sunk slightly in his chair. you nodded, keeping your gaze on him.

"he did, to let me know how high the stakes were for you," you replied. suddenly you placed two metal marbles on the table in front of james, to which he raised his eyebrows at. he glanced between you and the marbles confused.

you nodded toward the marbles, "well? pick them up..."

he reluctantly picked them up, watching you as you pulled out your own set. you opened your textbook and his to the same pages, before looking at him again.

"this won't fix the problem," you explained, "but it may help. your problem is lack of concentration right? you feel like you have to be moving while sitting in that chair, like you cannot keep your mind on one thing?"

james stared at you and nodded. he had never heard someone describe it well for him, and he wasn't much a man of words so to speak. "yeah, sorta like that, i suppose,"

you nodded. "good, we may be dealing with the same problem then," you picked up your set of the metal marbles and began moving them in that hand. they clinked together and made a satisfying sound as you kept going with the motion in your hand. "do what i'm doing and hold that same hand under the table—but do not stop moving your hand and the marbles,"

he obliged, following your exact instructions. thankfully, the noise wasn't so loud that it distracted anyone else in the library—it wasn't so much as noticeable to others either.

"now, we'll read the textbook, do some notes, i'll help you write your essay and we'll see if it's easier for you, sound good?" you asked.

"yeah, yeah, sounds great," james replied quickly, a small smile blooming on his face. you didn't seem so amused, but to be fair, james wasn't sure he'd ever seen you amused.

"great! any questions?" you asked, before you started.

he nodded. "yeah, sorta. why did you agree to help me?"

it wasn't necessarily an out of the blue question. for as long as you and james had known each other (and that was used lightly), he'd never really seen you around anybody. you avoided people it seemed. you seemed to find comfort in solitude, always studying alone, eating alone, walking alone—not that you ever seemed upset about it. sure, you had friends here and there, but no one permanent. you never seemed to care much for it, you came here for academics, that's all it seemed.

moreover, he'd never really seen you display big bouts of emotion. maybe a smile or chuckle here or there, but rarely. he'd never seen you cry or laugh aloud, he'd never seen you do a lot of things. maybe you did, maybe he just didn't pay attention enough. nonetheless, he was a bit curious. you seemed to avoid everyone, him especially.

you knew the question was coming. you knew why too. it was because you weren't very social and you were often irritated. you never hung around anyone and you certainly never joined parties or quidditch games. it was difficult for you, you struggled with showing emotions and socializing with others. you couldn't control it and you certainly couldn't help it, and no one really seemed to stick around to figure you out. but that was fine, you supposed anyway.

it certainly was not fine, despite trying to convince yourself. it was a lonely way to live and your family was worried, despite them not admitting it. you just buried the lonely feelings, hoping that maybe it'd change one day.

"how do you mean?" you asked. what if you were just a nice person? would he even accept that answer?

"i mean, what's in it for you? surely you have better things to do than tutor me," james quickly said, likely thinking carefully about what he was saying because truthfully, you both knew that no, in fact, you didn't.

"nothings in it for me," you replied, shaking your head. "i just decided to help, i guess. is there something wrong with that?"

you weren't trying to be hostile. you were genuinely curious.

"no," he replied. "there isn't,"

"good, now let's start," you said, offering a small smile.

——

weeks had passed, tutoring session after tutoring session passed by quickly. you and james met on tuesday afternoons and thursday afternoons. you began to enjoy his company, even if you knew he was being forced to attend. unbeknownst to you, he quite enjoyed the sessions as well, even looking forward to them each week.

you had both figured out how to best figure out james' lack of attention span in potions and he begun to get better grades, but nonetheless you both agreed to keep the tutoring sessions going—to 'keep his grades up'.

james sighed, closing his textbook and placing the metal marbles you had gifted him on the table. "can we take a break? if i read one more word, i'll throw up on the table," he whined.

"dramatic," you replied, "but okay, ten minutes,"

"you and i should get a snack, recharge our brains," james suggested cheekily, hoping you'd say yes.

"yeah, no thanks, i don't trust that stupid smile on your face," you replied.

"you'd think after all our time together that you’d trust me by now,” james sighed, shaking his head in feign disappointment. “so untrusting, n/n,”

“n/n?” you questioned.

“my nickname for you, you like it?” he grinned.

you chuckled, smiling as you rolled you eyes at him. “okay, whatever…”

james grinned, “oh! do i get points for making wednesday addams laugh?”

you dropped your smile and glared at him, rolling your eyes playfully again. he huffed, “geez…sorry…”

“go get your snack and then come back, we’ll pick out some other potion books for review, sound good?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. he grinned again, nodding like an excited little kid. you snorted and waved him off, fighting and failing to hide your smile as he rushed out of the library.

within twenty minutes he was back, following you as you put books back and grabbed new ones. you and him were chatting quietly, as you walked down the aisles, mainly focusing your attention on the books you were looking for. however, you paid close attention to the subject, given it was a topic he brought up often: why you were so uptight about your studies.

“well, potter—“ you began sternly.

“hey, i gave you a nickname! where’s mine?” he asked with a dramatized frown. you rolled your eyes playfully, hiding your slight amusement.

“as i was saying, potter, i’m uptight because i like to be prepared. frankly, i hope you pass your o.w.l’s because given how unprepared you are, i am praying for the best,” you replied sarcastically, noticing as he smiled at your joke.

he always seemed to understand your jokes.

“our o.w.l’s aren’t for another eight months,” he replied, getting a book from a high shelf as you tried to reach it to no avail. he handed it to you.

“exactly! you need to study for them now! you need to prepare!” you replied, putting a book back as you spoke.

“you are so uptight,” he chuckled. “some things you just need to…go with the flow. expecting the unexpected is no fun,”

you turned suddenly, smacking a book to his chest, thinking he’d grab it before it hit him. you laughed aloud, covering your mouth to muffle it, and he smiled back mockingly.

“how’s that for expecting the unexpected?” you grinned.

“shove off, n/n,” he scoffed. “you’re so corny,”

“and prepared,” you added, swiftly turning around to keep walking.

unbeknownst to you, james smiled at you genuinely while you were turned, your genuine laugh echoing in his head. he’d certainly make more jokes just to hear it again.

——

“well, this is our last session before break,” you smiled. “think you’ll be able to handle life without me for two weeks?” you joked.

“i think i can manage,” he teased back. you rolled your eyes, allowing a smile to grow on your face.

he smiled, pulling some out of his school bag swiftly. “actually, i wanted to give you something before we left, to thank you and for christmas,” he said kindly.

you furrowed your eyebrows. “you didn’t have to get me anything, potter,”

he rolled his eyes. “i wanted to, alright? and now you have to accept it,” he smiled. he slid over the small box toward you. it was wrapped in cute christmas wrapping paper, tied with a sting into a small box.

you took it gingerly in your hands, opening it carefully. you carefully tore the wrapping off and opened the small navy blue box. as you opened it, you held back your gasp as you took in the sight.

it was a beautiful silver bracelet, with butterflies placed in between the chains. the stones that filled in the butterflies were a beautiful pink color and it shined beautifully.

“james…” you gaped. “i don’t know what to say, thank you..” you smiled, pulling it out of the box and handing it to him. “will you clip it on me?”

he nodded and obliged, taking notice to how your eyes never left the beautiful bracelet. you looked up at him, tension filling the air as you watched him slowly clipping the bracelet onto your wrist. he smiled as your eyes connected, and for a second, you felt your stomach get all jittery.

“i’ll mail you a gift, seriously, this is beautiful,” you smiled. “thank you..so so much,”

somehow, it was very easy to smile around james potter.

“you don’t have to mail me anything,” james replied.

“oh please let me,” you pleaded, “i’ll feel so bad if i don’t,”

he smiled, “fine, alright, if it’ll help you sleep better at night,”

you grinned excitedly and pulled out a piece of parchment so he could write his address for you. he did it quickly, handing it back to you promptly.

——

you hadn’t been quite sure what to gift a boy who had everything he’d ever wanted. sure, you could get him something quidditch related, but it didn’t seem personal enough. you had wanted to give him something meaningful and sentimental.

you racked your brain for hours, trying to find the perfect gift. eventually, you settled with new quidditch gloves but even then, that still felt impersonal. so, you had begun to think back to every interaction the two of you had shared and landed on the perfect addition to his quidditch gloves.

you wasn’t quite sure how you had landed on the subject but you two had, so you scoffed and leaned back in your chair.

“fine then, what’d be your wish come true?” you asked james.

“to see you make a different facial expression?” james suggested. you swatted his arm quickly, making him retract it. “ow! i’m serious! sorry, but talking to the same facial expression every tuesday and thursday is scary! it wouldn’t exactly wound me to see you smile every once in a while…”

a different facial expression.

you quickly grabbed the family polaroid and enlisted your sibling to help you take the perfect picture of you smiling. once you were satisfied, you packaged it with his other gift and wrote a little note, explaining both gifts to him.

and that left you where you were now, back in the library with james, studying out of your potions textbooks. you noticed him pull it out and open the page quickly, as he had stuck something in between the pages.

you looked at intensely, trying to figure out what it was. then you quickly recognized it.

“is that me?” you blurred before you could stop yourself.

james looked down at whatever you were looking at and blushed, though he hid it well. “yeah, one of my gifts remember? you remind me of potions class, so, i use it as a bookmark,” he replied casually.

unbeknownst to you, he just really loved staring at the photo. you had a beautiful smile and it was a shame you didn’t show it more often.

you smiled warmly. “oh okay…”

“lovely bookmark, isn’t it?” james smiled, admiring the photo. he hadn’t meant to flirt, but he wasn’t exactly regretting it.

you chuckled. “i suppose so…”

bonus;

“daddy, how’d you know you liked mommy?” you seven year-old daughter, alison, asked as you set dinner table. it was james’ turn to cook tonight, so he held your toddler on the counter by him as he pulled dinner out of the oven.

you and james glanced at each other, smiling at her innocent yet curious questions. you stood there, watching as james turned to your daughter with a smile.

“well… i remember when i saw your mommy laugh for the first time,” james said honestly. “i instantly fell in love, i knew i’d marry her some day… i wanted to hear her laugh for the rest of my life,”

alison smiled. “mommy, what about you? how did you know you liked daddy?”

“well,” you recounted, “i remember every time i spoke to him, i smiled all the time. i was so happy around him and i knew i’d always be happy around him,”

alison nodded, smiling. “that’s cute! i hope i will know when i like someone!”

you looked at james, smiling as he ruffled your daughters hair, and like always, you felt your heart flutter at the sight of him. you felt like everything in the world was okay.

you looked back at your daughter with a smile. “trust me, sweetness, you’ll know.”

[turcott3]

all star break

john marino x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, pet names, oral male receiving, unprotected sex, and ofc fluff

masterlist

-

you laid out on the beach all day with your fellow girlfriends while all of the boys played out in the water like kids.

“nate really forgot sunscreen again, look at him.” nate’s girlfriend speaks up.

“he is looking redder than a tomato.” you laugh anxiously, not recalling john putting any on either. after a few more hours of laying out in the sun, you pack everything up and head back to the house, the walk being as humbling as it could be.

“baby you looked so good in your bikini.” john says tickling your sides as he shuts your bedroom door.

“and you need to wear sunscreen mister. you’re gonna look like nate by tomorrow if you don’t. no more of that ‘i don’t need it’s bullshit.” you say shoving his hands away from you as you laugh.

“i did put some on, i guess i just didn’t do a very good job of applying it.” he sighs.

“or reapplying.” you say and he laughs.

“listen i want to date a man not a fucking tomato.” you giggle as he tackles you onto the bed, peppering kisses all over your face with his hands placed firmly on your sides.

“baby stop, we’re gonna get sand in the bed.” you laugh, truthfully not wanting him to stop.

“you’re no fun.” he pouts pulling away, walking towards the bathroom.

“im going to shower.”

“good you stink.” you say and he flips you off. you and john’s relationship was a lot of bullying but a lot more love which was more than you could ever ask for. you laid in bed on your phone until john emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

“how was the shower?” you ask sitting up, your eyes landing on his fit physique.

“it was great, would’ve been better if you came with but you know whatever.” he says digging into his clothes.

“you didn’t invite me so i stayed here.” you reply, walking over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his back before he turns around using a hand to guide your lips to his. you tried to deepen the kiss but you were hesitantly denied.

“go shower baby.” he says, his hand still holding your face, his eyes wandering all over your face with love.

“okay.” you say as he kisses you one more time before letting go of you and turning back around.

“john.” you say turning around before entering the bathroom.

“yes?” he says pulling a shirt over his head.

“i love you.”

“i love you too honey.”

“good just had to double check.” you giggle shutting the door to the bathroom behind you.

-

the next morning you woke up bright and early, prepared for another long beach day.

“j, wake up.” you say shaking him, the skin of his shoulders warm to the touch. he groans rolling over to face you.

“you’re burnt my love.” you say running your hand gently over his cheek, brushing your hand through the hair on the side of his head.

“i know, i can feel it.” he groans stretching out before leaning up on his elbow to greet you at your level.

“good morning.” you smile lightly as he leans in to peck your lips before rolling out of bed.

“breakfast?” he asks turning around before exiting the room.

“please.” you reply.

“you got it.” he simply states, walking out of your bedroom for you to get changed. once your next bikini is on under one of the many shirts you’ve stolen from john, you exit the room and enter the kitchen, watching your boyfriend hard at work.

“smells great babe.” you say sitting at the bar.

“good because it’s almost ready.” he smiles cheekily at you, a blush spreading over your face quickly. he plates your food setting it down in front of you before playing his own and sitting down in the seat next to you. you sat eating your breakfast and talking for a while, loving the amount of quality time you were actually able to spend with him, given the season typically doesn’t allow it.

“i think they’ll be ready to go soon, i need to change.” he says setting both of your plates in the sink.

“and put on sunscreen.” you smile reminding him.

“i’ll let you do it, since i don’t do it good enough.” he says in a mocking tone.

“sounds good to me.” you reply as you followed him into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

“these?” he asks holding up a pair of navy trunks littered with tiny watermelons.

“yep.” you reply. without another word he slides him pajama pants off, pulling the swim trunks on right after.

“and done.” he smiles, kissing you on the head in passing to grab the sunscreen.

“here you are madam.” he says, handing you the bottle.

“turn around i’m doing your back first.” you say, opening the bottle and squeezing some onto your hand. carefully, you work the cream into his back, thoroughly coating the red tint near his shoulders.

“have you considered being a masseuse that feels fucking incredible.” he says, his hesd tilting back in pleasure.

“can’t say i have.” you giggle, clearly sensing the tension in the room rise. once you finished working on his back, you asked him to turn around which he did. you look up at his face, his eyes already locked on yours. you squeeze more into your hand, slowly lathering it on his chest, his breath hitching as you worked your way down his abs.

“what’s got you so worked up huh?” you ask, your face inching closer to his. all he does is shake his head in response and you giggle, wiping the excess onto your thighs as you drop carefully to your knees.

“y/n-“

“i’m getting your legs john, chill.” you say, clearly having an ulterior motive. you work carefully rubbing the cream into his legs, allowing your fingers to occasionally find their way under the leg of his trunks, his muscles twitching occasionally.

“is it me or is it hot in here?” you ask, removing your shirt, revealing your newest swimsuit addition to him.

“fuck.” he says as his head falls back.

“what’s the matter baby?” you say standing up, your hands running up his chest.

“you.” he says looking back down, his curls falling onto his forehead.

“awe, i’m sorry.” you smirk, spitting on your hand, sneaking it into his trunks, taking his hard cock into your hand. stroking it slowly, feeling every inch of it in detail.

“fuck y/n.” he says, pulling you by the back of your neck, colliding your lips hastily. you pull away slowly, keeping eye contact as you sink to your knees, pulling the waistband of his trunks down, freeing his dick from constriction. his breath hitches as your mouth makes contact with his tip, your tongue running across his sensitive head. with the help of your hands, you take him all into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks. you feel his hand gather your hair to keep it out of the way as you bob your head up and down at a quick pace, eventually removing it with a pop as spit webs from your lips. anxiously, he pulls you up to his level, attaching your lips again not caring that his dick was just deep in your throat.

“john.” you whisper as he directs his attention to the sensitive skin on your neck. his fingers carefully untie the knot on the back of your already strapless top.

“john.” you say again and he backs away looking at you with a questionable expression.

“i want you to fuck me.” you whisper into his ears, sinking from your tiptoes from his ear. it’s like his brain kicks into high gear, picking you up and tossing you on the bed, crawling over you again.

“so gorgeous.” he smiles at you kissing you again. quickly, you remove your bottoms, leaving both of you completely naked now. he positions himself between your legs, running his dripping tip through your folds teasingly.

“john please.”

“relax baby.” he says lowly before pushing himself into you, leaning over reattaching his lips to your neck. his thrusts were hard and deep, sending you spiraling into a moaning mess. your nails dig into the burnt skin on his back as your legs hooked around his hips, digging your heels in like you’re telling him to go faster without words. he picks up his pace rhythmically, going from slow to quick seamlessly. his dick was bigger than any guy you remember fucking in highschool, it practically blew your mind how quickly he could make you reach your edge.

“god you feel so fucking good.” you muster up the words, your hands finding their way to either side of his head that hovered above you, bringing your lips together. you craved his kiss more than you’d ever craved anything in your life.

“shit, i love you.” he says grunting pulling away as he presses down lightly on your lower stomach where it bulged with each of his thrusts, the pressure you felt as he hit your cervix now more escalated.

“john.” you say practically in a whisper.

“what is it baby?”

“i’m gonna come.” you say, practically seeing stars as your wet walls clenched tightly around him.

“come for me y/n.” he replies, you edging closer to your climax each second.

“fuck oh my god.” you say as the knot unravels in your abdomen, sending shockwaves through your body as he coated your walls with his milky climax. he pulls out of you, rolling over to lay on your left side.

“god you’re incredible.” he says, leaning up to kiss you deeply before running to grab a clean towel to wipe the mess he made between your legs. you winced at the contact as your core was swollen and dripping with the mixture of your climax and his.

“shhhhhh you’re okay baby.” he says running a loving hand up and down your thigh, noticing your legs still shaking.

“i don’t think i’ve ever come that much the entire time we’ve been together….. or just ever in general.” you say as he takes his place next to you once again.

“wow i’m hurt.” he says sarcastically.

“bitch that was a compliment.” you laugh smacking his arm.

“i know, i was messing with you. thank you baby.” he says kissing you sweetly.

“shit we’re gonna be late for the beach.” he says checking the clock again and getting out of bed.

“they can go, we can meet them there. i’m not ready yet, come back.” you say and he returns to you, laying his body between your legs and head on your chest. your hands found their way into his beautiful brown curls, scratching his scalp lightly.

“it makes me sad that we can barely have days or nights like these during the season.” you say lowly, only to be answered with a light snore from your boyfriend, a light giggle coming from you in response.

“i love you too johnny.” you sigh, covering the two of you with the comforter.

-