#outlaw reader

[dear-departed]

The Innocence of an Outlaw [Dutch]

A/N: I'm back! After what, a year or something? I don't really know what happened, or why happened, but it happened. Um, I finally played RDR2, after procrastinating, of course. But now I'm obsessed with these stupid little dumb gay cowboys. Without further adieu, here's a short Dutch Van Der Linde thing.

Desc.: Downtime with Dutch starts pretty uneventful until he remembers that his darling isn't a smoker. In his eyes, hilarity ensues; in yours, pain and coughing.

Word count: 1.15K

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Dutch Van Der Linde x GN! Reader

Dutch- innocent outlaw 

Life in the gang was never easy. The downtime was rare, but that’s to be expected. Somebody always needed him or needed a hand with something; which you usually were chosen to help with. After all, Dutch Van Der Linde’s partner is never exempt from carrying their own weight, at least that’s how you saw it. 

Despite how popular it is, you were never a smoker, nor a drinker. It was something you simply never took nearly as much pleasure in as others. Both activities burned, and one made you less aware. Dutch, on the other hand, can almost never be spotted without a cigar in hand, or a bottle of surprisingly pricey bourbon or whiskey near him. He almost never got drunk, but that’s not to say he didn’t enjoy a drink every so often.  

On this rare occasion where you have him all to yourself, you and Dutch sit in his tent at Horseshoe Overlook. It’s a pretty place, and if you were being honest, maybe even a little nicer than the west. After the whole mess in Blackwater, it was refreshing to move east. A relief, even.  

He sits next to you, one hand sitting idly on your thigh, his thumb caressing the fabric of your clothing. As per usual, rings adorn his fingers, thick gold rings. Something about the way they looked on his callused fingers drove you wild.  

“You know…” Dutch starts, taking a long drag of his cigar, “I’m so glad you’ve stuck with me through all of this. Through Blackwater. They say someone shows their character in a time of panic or need, and you’ve proven yourself to be real’ trustworthy. I appreciate your faith in me.” He speaks. Curse his silver tongue, the way he makes you swoon with every word that comes out of his smoky breath. Every time you consider leaving the outlaw life, he drags you back in with his words, his charming looks and his rich voice keeps you anchored to him. The way he spoils you rotten when he gets the chance and ignores you right after.   

Thank you, Dutch... you’re too good to me.” You mutter, leaning into his warm body, one arm snaking around his waist. “Do you want a puff?” he asks, holding his cigar out to you.  

You furrow your brows, slowly shaking your head. “No thanks, you know I’ve never been much of a smoker.” You say, slowly closing your eyes.  

” Oh?” he asks, quirking a brow, as if your words surprised him. “Go on, it’s an honor. The amount of times Sean or Arthur have asked for a drag off me... they’d be jealous, you know.” He says softly, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you into his lap. His cigar hangs from his mouth, tendrils of smoke curling into the air and wafting up into your nose. Almost everything that resides in Dutch’s tent has cigar smoke in it, permeating any material. Leather, cloth, metal, it doesn’t matter.  

“Alright, alright, I give.” You say, reaching for the cigar, but he takes it from his mouth and moves it away.  

“Hold on now, allow me...” He says, one side of his face quirking up into some sort of grin. “Open up.” He says, and you obediently oblige.  

He adores the way you listen, the fire in your criminal heart burns everyone but him. To Dutch, you’re but a wood stove, contained and comforting. He puts the cigar to your lips, resting one hand right beneath the back of your neck. You inhale the smoke- rookie mistake. Immediately it burns your lungs and throat, and you start hacking and coughing, curling over yourself. 

Dutch quickly pulls the cigar away, a chuckle coming from his lips, “you’ve only ever smoked cigarettes? You don’t inhale cigar smoke, it’s different.”  

Of course, he would know that 

He passes you a cup of water from the crate beside his cot that acts as a nightstand. You eagerly gulp it down to soothe the burn. Dutch rubs your back while you hack and cough, tipping some of the ash from the cigar onto the floor.  

“I hate to make light of your pain, but I think it’s adorable how inexperienced you are... such a ruthless outlaw, but a cigar can topple you...” He teases, lacing his fingers through your hair. He tugs softly, not enough to hurt, just enough to make you jerk your head up to look at him with teary eyes.  

“You’re fine. Just watch me.” He says, putting the cigar to his lips. He lets the smoke sit in his mouth for a moment, before slowly blowing it out, a plume of smoke coming from his mouth. “See?”  

You nod, finishing the last from the water cup. “Yeah. Can I try again?” You ask, reaching for the cigar.  

“Of course.” He once again pulls the cigar away from you, taking another slow drag from it. He puts one hand behind your head and pulls your face close to his, pressing his lips to yours. Of course, you kiss back, even as he slowly blows the smoke into your mouth as you absentmindedly get a little more comfortable in his lap.  

Dutch slowly pulls away, placing his index finger on your lips. “Just taste the smoke for a moment, no need to rush.” he croons softly into your ear. He revels in the way you choke down coughs; just for him. “You’re alright, doin’ just fine there... alright, now blow.”  

Slowly, you let the smoke flow from your mouth, right in his face, out of spite. He fans away the smoke with a hardy laugh, “you did it! With my help, of course.” He comments, giving you a smug grin. He’s enamored by the way you cough again, some of the smoke you’d just blown out reentering your mouth. His thumb rubs against your chin and on the side of your lip lovingly. You can’t quite pinpoint if it’s because you have something on your face or if it’s because he’s simply feeling affectionate. Either way, the attention feels nice. His warm callused hands upon your dirt-smudged face. “You’ll get used to it... trust me, I much prefer a pipe to cigars, but I left my old pipe in... Blackwater.” He mutters the dreaded city name underneath his breath, avoiding your gaze as he huffs softly.  

“Why don’t you buy another one? I’m sure Saint Denis has some ‘real nice pipes. I’ve seen the ones- men in those big top-hats, they have these pretty mahogany pipes.” You suggest.  

He simply shrugs, “I have, none of them feel quite right. The last one fit my lips perfectly.” He recalls. You swear you could see drool coming out of his mouth. This man was a tobacco fiend, that much you knew.  His hands absentmindedly caress your thighs, his fingers kneading, like an affectionate cat.  

"You owe me a back massage."

"For oh-so-generously offering you a drag from my cigar?"

"From not telling me you're not supposed to breathe."

"Fine."

[thornybubbles]

JJBA Yandere Scenario: Jealousy (The Jo-Foes) Diego (with Outlaw Reader)

**Note: Been a while I know. I’m not sure I have a great grasp on Diego’s character here, but I tried. If this seems rushed and jumbled I’m sorry. This particular story was cobbled together from two different ideas and it might seem a little weird. Sorry this took so long to get out, too. I’ve been occupied with other things lately. I also didn’t do much in the way of proofreading this, so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mishaps. I’ll fix any that I find later. I just wanted to get this one out there as I was overdue for another fic. The next chapter of “Kinder Than Love” will be out soon for those of you that follow that story. **

Diego wasn’t too proud to admit to himself that he adored you. He should be angry at allowing himself to catch feelings when he had more important things to worry about. He had hired you in secret to keep tabs on Valentine and make sure that the underhanded politician kept his side of their bargain and didn’t do anything shady behind his back. He didn’t trust that frilly fop any more than he was willing to let Johnny Joestar win the race. Naturally, he couldn’t take part in the race while also keeping an eye on Valentine. You were also meant to spy on Joestar and Gyro and let him know what they were up to. Having you around had already made his life much easier... and a lot more fun.

Diego hired you due to your strange ability to hide in plain sight. You had no Stand that he was aware of, but you had an uncanny, almost supernatural ability to blend  into your surroundings in such a way that you could be standing right beside someone and they would never notice that you were there. Diego thought that you would make a wonderful assassin. Unfortunately you had no interest in such things. It was a shame. There were quite a few people on Diego’s “to be eliminated” list. Ah well. It was far better to handle one’s enemies on one’s own terms anyway. 

Diego admired your survivalist spirit. You were practically one with nature and exemplified the notion of “kill or be killed”. But you were willing to take a life only if it was absolutely necessary. It was the one flaw Diego saw in your otherwise perfect design. There were other little things that you did that drew him to you but the main thing about you that he loved was… a little bit twisted. 

He loved the fact that he had you trapped. You didn’t know it yet, but he had you in a deceitful snare that you would never, ever be able to escape from. You would not know the nature of that snare until many months into the race, when an unforeseen change in the weather and damage to the area due to the resulting storms caused the race to be postponed for a few days. 

It was then that you met the strange, but sweet soul who you came to know as Mr. Le Mans. While you prided yourself on your ability to be unnoticeable even in a crowd, Le Mans noticed you when no one else did. Every time he stepped into the saloon where you were having your meals, his eyes would zero in on you. He would come over to your little corner where you hid to have your meals, and the two of you would talk. 

At first it made you very uncomfortable. Diego had made it expressly clear that he didn’t want you talking to anyone. You were supposed to remain as a living shadow, moving through the crowds, blending in, and never doing anything to call attention to yourself. Not only that, but due to certain unpleasantness from your past, you couldn’t afford to have anyone get too close to you. You tried to get away from him a few times but, you found yourself beginning to crave the attention he gave you. 

It had been ages since anyone had a real conversation with you (that didn’t involve something shady). You found that you rather enjoyed talking about mundane things like the weather, food, and local landmarks. After years of living on the outskirts of society, never allowing yourself to mingle with others, and becoming something like a living ghost while surrounded by people, it felt nice to have someone do something as simple as notice that you were there. 

You didn’t realize how lonely you were until Le Mans entered your life. You’d only known him for a few days and already you were beginning to feel attached to him somehow. Diego was less than pleased. He walked into the saloon one day, spotted you and Le Mans sitting and chatting together, and gave you such a scathing look that you felt as if you'd actually been slapped. That night, he found you at your usual camping spot outside of town, and verbally ripped into you. 

“What the hell are you thinking?!” he hissed. “You’re supposed to be laying low, not getting chummy with the locals! If anyone realizes that you’re working with me, it could put all of my plans in jeopardy! You stay the hell away from the dandy or you’ll find yourself out of a job!” 

That’s what led to you meeting Le Mans in secret. What Diego didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. Unfortunately for you, Diego did know. He knew all about you and Le Mans and your secret rendezvous. He also knew about how Le Mans pressed an adoring kiss to your lips at the end of each of your meetings. The thought of someone else kissing you caused him to go absolutely feral. The image of Le Mans’ filthy mouth tainting your precious lips played over and over again in his mind until his vision blurred and he could feel his teeth lengthening inside of his mouth. Even as he lurched into the wilderness, hunched over like a beast on the hunt, he couldn’t erase the image of your flustered face from his mind. 

They found what was left of Le Mans a day later. A bear got to him, so they said. You were stunned. Just as soon as you found the slightest spark of joy, life came along and snuffed it out completely. It was karma, you supposed. You didn’t deserve any joy really. Not after the things you’d done. Though, Le Mans didn’t deserve to die in such a way; partially eaten by some wild animal…. What a horrible way to go. You spent the next few days sobbing in your dark corner of the saloon. No one came to comfort you. No one even looked your way. It was like nothing changed. People passed you by as if you weren’t even there. You’d gone back to being unnoticed and overlooked. It didn’t bring you the feeling of safety that it used to. Now, you just felt miserable and more lonely than you ever thought possible.

The damage from the storms had finally been cleared and the Steel Ball Run race was no longer being delayed. Diego would be leaving the little town along with the other racers, and you would be expected to follow after him. And so you did. Your half blind mule was nowhere near as fast and agile as some of the race horses, but he made up for it with his ability to sniff out shortcuts through rougher terrain and his sure-footedness. If anyone spotted you they would assume that you were just some wandering vagrant and nothing more. They wouldn’t suspect you to be a spy or have anything to do with the Steel Ball Run race. They wouldn’t even bother to approach you, much less think to question you. 

It had been at least three days since you’d been back on the trail. Your mule managed to find a nice spot that overlooked the Joestar group’s camp and was situated in a way that prevented them from seeing your own campfire. From your vantage point, you could use your binoculars to watch what they were doing. While you were too far away to hear them, you could read their lips. So far Joestar was being sarcastic and the Zeppelli fellow was making jokes about his steel balls. So nothing special. You sighed, lowered your binoculars, and leaned back against a rock. You looked up into the starry sky and thought about Le Mans for the hundredth time that day. You’d been thinking about him alot lately. You’d only known him briefly, but got so attached to him in that short amount of time. You sighed again, closed your eyes for a moment, and did your best to choke back the tears. You wouldn’t cry again. It took so much out of you when you did. You missed Le Mans. You missed him very badly. You glanced back down at the Joestar group only to see that they had gone to sleep for the night. You may as well do the same. 

The sound of your campfire being stirred startled you. You turned to look to your right only to get startled again to see that Diego was sitting next to you, poking your fire with a stick. 

“M-Mr. Brando!!” You cried and he chuckled at your shocked expression. 

“Some spy you are.” he teased. “You let me sneak right up on you. Not only that, but you were letting your fire go out. You must be awfully distracted tonight if you’re that unaware of your surroundings.” 

He snapped the stick he was using to poke the fire in half and tossed it into the flames. Then he turned to you with a smirk. 

“Tell me what it is that has you so preoccupied.” he said, leaning towards you. 

You scooted back from him, feeling very uncomfortable. You didn’t know what it was but Diego’s presence had you on edge. He often visited your camp to hear what you had to say about either Valentine or Johnny Joestar, so it wasn’t as if his arrival was unusual… but something about him felt different tonight. He always seemed to have an air of danger around him, but tonight that air of danger felt downright deadly. You looked away from him, not willing to spill your personal thoughts to him. 

“I don’t have any information for you, tonight.” you said, attempting to change the subject. “Joestar and Zeppelli haven’t done anything out of the ordinary lately…” 

Diego interrupted you. 

“I didn’t come here to talk business. Not tonight.” he said. 

He moved around you so that he was once again in your line of vision. He was smiling in a way that made your stomach knot up. 

“W-what did you c-come to talk about then?” you asked, dreading the answer. 

“About us,” he answered. “About you and me…” 

You looked up at him in confusion. 

“About us? What about us?” You asked. 

“First let’s talk about you. I bet I can guess as to what you were thinking about before I snuck up on you…” 

And he was back on that topic again. You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself. 

“I don’t really want to talk about that.” you said. 

He ignored you completely. 

“You were thinking about that dandy boy again, weren’t you. What was his name again? Leemen? Layman?” 

“Le Mans,” you corrected. “Please, I really don’t want to talk about…” 

He cut you off again. 

“I know it must be hard losing someone like that. Especially, when you seemed so fond of him…” 

Your irritation flared and you stomped your booted foot on the ground. 

“Mr. Brando! I said I didn’t want to talk about it!” you shouted. 

“Shhhhhh,” he shushed you and suddenly he was holding your hands in his gloved ones, gently rubbing his thumbs against your knuckles. 

The action startled you and your anger was forgotten. His eyes had taken on a soft look that caught you off guard and shocked you into silence. Never since you’d known him had Diego Brando appeared soft or comforting in any way. He was either cold and calculating or a beacon of hate and rage. This was a side of him you’d never guessed existed. You made a slight attempt at pulling your hands out of his, but he used the opportunity to pull you closer to him. You found himself staring into his eyes for a moment. Finding the situation far too intimate, you turned away from him, staring at the ground instead. 

“Listen to me,” he began. “I understand. I do.” 

You looked back up at him. 

“Understand?” you questioned. 

He offered you a gentle smile.

“Yes. I understand what it means to lose someone, believe me.” he said and his eyes grew distant for a moment. 

“It’s not easy is it?” he said. 

“Mr. Brando… what are you getting at?” you asked. 

“You’re lonely, that’s what I’m getting at.” he said. 

You pulled yourself out of his grasp feeling that the situation was becoming a bit too intimate for your tastes. 

“Come now, don’t be that way.” he said with a light chuckle. 

He moved closer to you and you shied a little further away from him. 

“Fine, be the shrinking violet if you want, but hear me out.” he said, growing slightly annoyed with your standoffishness. 

“I know it’s been hard for you and I can’t imagine how it feels to have to skirt around on the outside of civilization unable to connect with anyone. You must feel like some kind of outcast. I can’t imagine how lonely it gets…” 

He took a single step closer to you and you froze. You understood now. You knew exactly what he was trying to say. In the time that you’d been working for him, Diego had become more and more “friendly” with you. Then came the complements, the gifts of supplies and equipment… it was Diego that bought you the binoculars that you’d been using. At the time you thought he was just giving you a means to better do your job, but when you thought back to some of his other behaviors, (how close he sat to you when he came to hear your reports, the pet names and out-of-nowhere complements, and the nasty looks he gave you when he saw you with Le Mans) you realized that there was far more to it than that. 

Diego was crushing on you. Very badly.

He suddenly had his arms around you and was pressing you into his chest. Panic rose into your chest and you tried to push away, but he tightened his hold on you. 

“If you stay by my side, you’ll never have to be lonely again.” he whispered into your ear. 

You managed to rip yourself out of his arms. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Brando,” you said, straightening yourself out and trying to quell the panic that was swelling up in your heart. “I just don’t have those kinds of feelings for you.” 

Diego's reaction was not what you expected. 

He stared at you with a blank expression for a moment before his lips stretched into a wicked grin. Then he laughed. He laughed and laughed until you started to become even more uncomfortable than you already were. After a few minutes of this, you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“What’s so funny?!” you demanded.  

Diego managed to reign in his laughter long enough to answer you.

“It’s funny…” he started, wiping tears from his eyes. “It’s funny because you think you actually have the right to refuse me.” 

You raised your eyebrows, stunned at the audacity of the statement. 

“Excuse me?” you said with disgust in your voice. Your panic was very quickly turning into anger. “Did you just say that I don’t have the right to refuse you?” 

Diego merely grinned at you. 

“I most certainly do have the right to refuse you! What makes you think YOU have the right to tell ME who I can and can’t refuse?” 

Diego’s grin seemed to stretch to the far reaches of his face for a split second and there was a flash of something utterly inhuman in his eyes. It shocked you right out of your tantrum. Your anger dissipated and slowly went back to panic. When Diego spoke again, your panic turned into pure horror. 

“No, you don’t have the right to refuse me, sweetheart.” he said in a mockingly soft tone. “You can’t refuse me, because if you do, a certain event from your past is going to make national news.” 

Event from your past? He couldn’t mean… Oh no. 

“Go on,” he said with a chuckle. “Ask me what I’m talking about.” 

No, no, he couldn’t be talking about that, you tried to reassure yourself. I’ll play dumb. I’m not going to let him know he’s affecting me…

“What ARE you talking about?” you asked, trying to keep your voice from shaking. 

“Oh nothing much.” he said. “Just a little bank robbery that happened a few years back… a bank robbery that you were involved in… a bank robbery that cost a little boy his life. Ring any bells?” 

No.

NO!

He knew! 

He KNEW!!!

Eight years ago, before you got involved with Diego, you had been a part of a gang of criminals that terrorized the state. You left them after an incident that made you question everything that you’d done up to that point. It was just supposed to be a bank heist. You were supposed to go into the bank, wave some guns around, demand the money, and leave. You hadn’t expected the sheriff and a posse of deputized locals to show up and try to stop you. There had been a shootout in the streets. A child ran into the crossfire in a panic, trying to get to his mother. He was killed. Shot in the head… by you. You killed that child right in front of his mother. You panicked and fled, leaving your allies behind to fend for themselves. You didn’t escape unscathed, however. A bullet grazed the side of your face, mutilating your ear in a way that would instantly give you away if anyone saw the wound. It was the reason you always wore your hair down. It covered your mangled ear and prevented anyone from relating you to the robbery. 

At least you had hoped that it would. 

Stubbornly, you continued to play dumb. 

“I’m not sure what you could be referring to.” You said. “Though if I was involved in such a thing, you have no proof of it.” 

Diego cocked his head to the side in a playful manner. 

“Oh don’t I?” he said. 

Your heart felt like it was going to leap out of your chest and your body felt like someone had just doused you in ice water. 

“I remember reading about it in the paper. The sheriff said that only one of the robbers got away. But not before he shot them in the ear…”

Your blood ran cold. 

He reached out, pulling your hair away from your right ear. You were frozen to the spot. You could only look up at him with wide eyes as you began to tremble like a scared mouse. He examined what was left of your ear, making note of the scar across your head and your missing helix and antihelix. 

“Hmm.” he mused. “Not much left of it, is there? You poor thing. That had to hurt like hell…” 

His gloved fingers traced your scar. You shuddered and jerked away from him. You pulled your hair back over your injured ear and stared at him in horror. 

He snickered at your reaction.

“Pretty damning evidence, I’d say.” he said in a casual manner, while affixing you with a glare. 

“T-the kid got in the way!” you stammered. “It was an accident! I never meant to kill him!” 

“Do you think the law cares about that? In their eyes, you’re just a lowly child-killing criminal. You don’t deserve any sympathy. Just a trip to the gallows.” Diego said with a scoff. 

You were going to be sick. 

“I have a lot of connections, love. One word from me and you’ll be in a noose faster than you can blink. So, no, you don’t have the right to refuse me, dearest.” 

You shrank in on yourself, clutching the sides of your head and squatting down on the ground. Your eyes were wide and unfocused, staring at the ground, unable to see anything but the visions of encroaching doom floating around in your head. 

Diego grabbed you by your arms and pulled you to your feet. He wasn’t even going to allow you a moment to have a mental collapse. You found yourself, once again, forced to look at his smiling face. There was something different about him now though. His features seemed sharper, longer somehow and his eyes had taken on a strange yellowish color. You had to be seeing things. The shock of having your darkest secrets revealed must be messing with your head more than you thought. 

“Did you think that you could just run away from what you’d done and pretend that it didn’t happen? Did you think that the blood washed off of your hands over the years? No! Once a killer always a killer! You didn’t stop with the child, did you? You have quite a gallery of victims, don’t you?” 

Diego licked his lips and you felt like he was savoring your guilt and terror. 

“I had no choice!” You protested. “They got too close! They were going to find out who I was and what I did! I had to defend myself!!” 

Diego snickered sadistically. 

“Defend yourself against what? Your rightful punishment?” he mocked. 

Tears were streaming down your face now and you felt your knees go weak. The only thing keeping you upright was Diego’s hold on you. 

“How do you know these things?” you demanded. 

Diego shook his head. 

“I have my ways. Not that it matters…” he said with a sneer. 

“Why then? Why are you doing this to me?” 

“Because I own you.” Diego said with a hungry smirk. “I owned you from the moment you started doing my dirty work.” 

You looked up with him in horror. Just how long had he… felt this way about you? Was this his plan from the very beginning? Did he already know about your past in advance and mean to use it against you before you’d even met him?

You supposed that none of those answers really mattered. 

In the end this was probably what people called “karma”. 

You ran from your life of crime years ago hoping to put all of that nasty business behind you and start anew, but it wasn’t that easy. People came looking for you: lawmen, bounty hunters, people who were too nosey for their own good. Your life became one of paranoia and unrest. People were dead because of the decisions you made. A child was dead because of you. A mother was heartbroken because you took her child from her in an act of carelessness. If you had never decided to join up with that group of bandits all for the sake of relieving boredom and money woes, none of it would’ve happened. And you wouldn’t be here at the mercy of a one Diego Brando. 

You reap what you sow…

“Dry those tears,” he said. “It’s rather insulting that you act that way after I ask you to be mine. Really, you act as if being with me is a punishment or something.” 

He chuckled darkly and shoved you away from him. 

“I’ve got to head back to my own camp or Hot Pants will start wondering what I’m up to.” he said as he started to walk away. “We’ll talk about this another time. I wouldn’t try to run off if I were you. Sweet dreams, love.” 

He disappeared into the darkness, laughing lowly at your plight. 

You sat there on your knees wanting to scream in despair and frustration. You should never have gotten involved with a man like Diego. Even after you swore off involving yourself with crime or shady dealings, you still found yourself lured to men like him. Either they came to you or you stupidly sought them out for one reason or another. And now you were stuck being the unwilling romantic companion to a madman. 

You suddenly found yourself thinking of Le Mans again. 

You weren’t sure, but you had a sickening feeling that Diego was involved with his death somehow. You couldn’t forget the look he gave you when he saw you with Le Mans in the saloon. What you knew of Diego said that he was absolutely the type to kill a man out of jealousy. Still people said that Le Mans had died to an animal attack. No human could rip a man apart like that… could they?

Whatever the case, you couldn’t stay with Diego. You had only agreed to work for him until the Steel Ball Run race was over. You never agreed to being his lover. The idea made your skin crawl. Surely there was a way to escape him? If you ran now, it wouldn’t matter who he told about your crimes. You’d be long gone by the time anyone came for you. That was it! You would leave right now! 

You got up to begin packing up your things when your left arm started stinging horribly. You gasped in pain and looked at your arm to see that your sleeve was ripped and bloodstained. How on earth had that happened? You pushed the fabric of your sleeve aside to see that there was a bloody gash there. Did Diego do that when he grabbed you? Did he have a knife in his hand at the time? You vaguely remember feeling his fingernails jabbing into you, even through his gloves, as he grabbed you, but surely they weren’t as long and sharp enough to cause a cut like that! And how could he have cut you through his gloves? The wound didn’t seem too deep but it was bleeding a lot. You would have to treat it before you made a run for it. You wouldn’t be able to escape if you bled out beforehand. 

Pain abruptly shot through your arm. It seemed to spread from your wound to the rest of your body. You grasped your bloody arm, panting in agony for a moment. After a few minutes, the pain faded. If you didn’t know better, your thoughts of escape were somehow linked to the pain in your arm. But that’s ridiculous. You examined your wound again. It looked… strange. The skin around it was red and swollen, hinting an oncoming infection if not treated. But it also looked cracked and kind of scaly. Odd. Gangrene? No. You’d seen gangrene before. It was ugly, but it didn’t look like that. You really needed to patch that wound before it got worse. Then you could pack your things and…

Another jolt of pain surged through your arm and your mind went fuzzy. 

You were vaguely aware of your mule, who was tied nearby, snorting and pawing nervously at the ground. 

The pain only lasted a few seconds this time. Your brain still felt like it was in a haze though. You were probably just tired. You couldn’t focus on much except your arm… and thoughts of Diego…

You wanted to fix your arm and… there was something else you wanted to do but you couldn’t remember. 

Was it… escape? 

Escape from what? 

Diego told you not to run off. So you wouldn’t. 

You looked down at your arm again. It really looked strange now. Far too scaly, but you weren’t too worried about it. Your tongue lolled out of your oddly lengthed mouth and you gave the cut a few licks. Once the blood was cleaned off you looked at the wound. It seemed to have stopped bleeding. You would put some antiseptic on it later. At the moment you needed sleep. You flopped over into the dirt, not even bothering to crawl into your sleeping bag. 

Your poor mule didn’t get much sleep that night. He spent the better part of the night keeping a wary eye on the beast that used to be his master, just in case it decided to wake up and devour him. 

You dreamed of Diego and nothing else. 

[dmitriene]

cw: selling reader to close the debt, groping, kidnapping, dubcon, thoughts of impregnating.

being sold to outlaw könig, just so your daddy would be able to pay his debt to him, and since he had nothing but you, your dad got together to sell your pretty face to this terrible brute of a man, and your life was over about the moment when he brazenly picked you up in his arms and carried you to his horse with a satisfied squint of blue eyes.

you didn't understand why you had to answer for your father's debts, and even though könig ain't tried to harm you, he didn't react to the thick tears running down your cheeks and chin all the road that you were pressed against his chest, whimpering as he roughly squeezed at the softness of your body over your dress, cruel chuckle slipping from beneath the hood at his face.

könig didn't resell you to any other people, ain't even made a slave out of you, he gave you a clean, spacious room that belonged only to you in a house that wasn't bad, clean, looking like he didn't even live there, but instead of thanking him with your innocent eyes and chirping words, you had to run away from him, not knowing what awaits you.

the lingering perverse of his calloused touch on your body everytime he could grope you over your dress, nuzzle his face in your neck even through your shrieks and small kicks of your fists against his muscular chest, könig likes seeing you pick up a fight like a feisty kitten, not knowing that he's a predator there, and you're bounded to be with him.

to wipe puddles of blood on the floor almost everytime he comes back home by the night, stumbling through the doorway, to let him seat you on his beefy lap and press his face in your shoulder, palming at your body through almost translucent fabric of your nightie, doing a little job of hiding the softness of your curves, making his heavy, fattened erection poke in the swell of your ass.

but you wouldn't claw at him if he'd bury his thick cock in your weepy pussy, you can mewl that it's disgusting and he's gross all you want, while bouncing prettily on his fat cock, letting the ridge of his cockhead prod at the sweet, virgin spot in your cunt, your hole pulsing and oozing syrupy slick at every hump of his hips, hands holding onto his huge shoulders, as his rough palms swallow the fat of your asscheeks.

you should be grateful he kept you alive, hübsches lamm, and perhaps if he'll cream your pussy with his thick seed, sending you to sleep in your room with cum soaked panties, you'll be more docile, acting like you never been sold to könig, but belonged to him from the start.

his sweet little wifey, the one he would knock up as soon as possible, and then, you will be tied to him.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[rafey-baby]

hidden

outlaw!rafe holding pogue!reader hostage in her own house after banging his fist on her door in the middle of a stormy night, demanding to be let in with a gun in hand and wild waves in the sea of his eyes…

cw: outlaw!rafe being mean and manipulative, mentions of murder, violence & other dark themes, he’s also weirdly soft in the end?

wc: 2k

he's been stuck in my head for a while so hope u enjoy xx

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

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

There’s still sleep dust lingering in her lashes when she hesitantly cracks open the oak door at 3am, revealing a tall, scary man with scarlet stains on his big hands, white button up saturated in maroon and a scowl painted over his unsettling countenance.  

She stands there like a deer in headlights, unmoving as he stares down at her with arctic eyes as chilling as the frigid waters surrounding an iceberg.  

At first, she thinks she’s still asleep, tired brain conjuring up some creepy murderer scenario where she’s the idiot who does everything the audience in the movie theater is screaming at her not to. But as she properly blinks her sleepy eyes open, she comes to the realization that this is not a horror film and this intimidating stranger (with oddly appealing features) who’s definitely just killed someone is very much real.  

She’s about to open her mouth and she’s not sure whether she was going to scream for help or simply stare at him with her mouth hung open in shock but she doesn’t get the chance to find out before he’s pasting a massive palm over her mouth.  

“Don’t make a sound,” his low mutter makes a shiver run down her spine. 

And she doesn’t, instead she just blinks, too out of it to even move a muscle; the reek of the dried blood on his hand hitting her nose, making her face scrunch up. And she doesn’t know why she’s not putting up any sort of a fight, blaming it on the fact that half of her brain is still swimming in the lake of her dreamland; soaking up the glittering sunbeams that never dull and dipping its toes in the grass that consists of misty nebula and twinkling stars. 

And he’s just so mean, ordering her around with a gun to her head, manhandling her around to his liking, grumbling about needing to stay at her house for a bit since he needs a hiding place from the cops after dumping a body somewhere in the ocean and getting caught. Apparently, his temper really just got the best of him at times.  

“I didn’t even mean to kill the guy, alright. He just kept pissing me off on purpose and I was provoked, what was I supposed to do?” He offers as an explanation that seems to do very little to soothe her overstrung heart that’s thudding in her ribcage. It’s loud enough for him to hear; almost as if she’s a terrified rabbit and he’s a big bad wolf, hunting down his prey.  

“I’m taking a shower now, and you’re not gonna move an inch, you understand? Cause if you do, I’m gonna have to hurt you, and I really don’t wanna do that, okay?” 

She nods her head, unable to form any coherent sentences. 

He takes note of the way her inhale gets caught in her throat when he steps closer to her, inquiring whether she lives alone or not, to which she just nods her head again.  

“Dumb girl”, he tuts, shaking his head in disapproval. “When someone’s knocking on your door in the middle of the night you don’t fucking open, alright?”  

She’s making it entirely too easy for him.  

The second he’s in her bathroom, she forces her exhausted brain to think; quickly coming up with a rickety plan as she listens to the water streaming down from behind the door. She waits for a moment, making sure the coast is clear before she bolts towards her bedroom, trembling fingers grabbing her phone from her nightstand and trying to dial 911.  

However, her shaky hands don’t help her one bit when they drop the phone; the clattering sound of it hitting the floor echoing in the quietness of the room.  

She can’t breathe, her brain short-circuits as she bends down, reaching for the wretched device that has somehow tumbled under her bed. However, when she finally catches it in an unsteady grip, she hears the shower turn off; an eerie stillness following. In her state of panic, she fruitlessly tries to turn it back on and call for help but it’s proving to be harder than she thought when her lungs decide to stop working, her respiration shallow and her heartbeat ringing in her ears.  

“Boo,” a low whisper right behind her makes her blood run cold; a shiver traveling down her spine as she slightly jumps, a faint gasp leaving her.  

“Why did you just do that, huh? Told you, didn’t wanna fucking hurt you and then you go and pull this shit,” a strong hand is gripping her by her throat as he turns her around to face him.  

“I’m sorry, I...I don’t—” she’s paralyzed, unable to move.  

“You don’t what, huh?” He stares into her horror-stricken eyes with an almost bored look, seemingly entirely indifferent to her torment.  

“Can’t…can’t breathe,” her voice is nearly inaudible, making a grim chuckle bubble out of his chest.  

“Can’t breathe? Maybe you should’ve thought about that before, yeah?” He scoffs, cruel words mocking her.  

“You’re so fucking stupid, want me to kill you, is that what you want?” He grits out as he squeezes at her neck, making her feel dizzy; gasping for air.  

“No! No, please. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Won’t— won’t do it again, promise, I’ll do anything—” she manages to force out as he’s nearly crushing her windpipe in his unrelenting grip.  

“Anything, huh? That’s real tempting and all but what I need you to do is not pull stupid shit like this, you understand?”  

“I won’t, I promise. You can...stay here for as long as you want and I’ll help, okay?” she thinks she’s gonna pass out soon, stars peppering behind her fluttering lids and her weakened limbs starting to feel heavy. His coarse panting fills her eardrums as he seems to contemplate her offer for a moment.  

“If you even think about running to the cops tonight, I’m gonna fucking find you, you understand?” 

She’s frantically nodding her head and at last, his hold begins to loosen around her trachea, allowing for her greedy lungs to finally suck in air as she takes a step back, trying to even out her respiration.  

He doesn’t say anything, silently observing her as she clears her throat, swallowing a few times as she tries to pacify her racing heart and calm the thoughts running around her head; trying to reassure herself that she’s still alive and she will stay that way if she just doesn’t rile him up anymore.  

He notices how her rounded eyes look up at him as he stands before her, smelling like her honey-scented body wash and orange blossom shampoo, nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, leaving very little to her imagination as the room grows quiet.  

“What’s— um…what’s your name?” Her voice is creaky when she tries a different approach once she feels the flat floorboards under her wobbly feet again, a nervous hesitation overlaying her precarious question.  

“Don’t worry about it,” he simply dismisses her, but a small pout molds her mouth as she stares at him and he lets out a discontented sigh, rolling his eyes.  

“Rafe,” he finally responds, not bothering to ask for hers, seemingly not caring enough for it. She tells him, nonetheless and he laughs at her priorities. A literal criminal has broken into her home and she cares about fucking introductions.  

“So…have you— have you killed anyone else?” She doesn’t know why she’s trying to make small talk with him but she supposes if she gets him to talk about something, choking her to death won’t be at the forefront of his mind anymore.  

“You seriously wanna know?” He raises his brows. 

She thinks about it for a moment and then settles on shaking her head, followed by a harsh chuckle rumbling out from his sturdy chest.  

“So, uh— what is it that you do? Like besides…killing people and stuff?” She tries once more.  

“Look, the less you know, the better, alright?” He simply states, making her let out a soft sigh in defeat.  

All of a sudden, a vigorous thunder crackles behind her windows, an ablaze lightning illuminating her dimly lit bedroom soon after.  

She flinches at the sound and the sinister way it momentarily lights up his face.  

“You scared of a little storm?” He feigns concern as he peers down at her.  

“N— no,” she lies, forcing her face to stay neutral, hesitant about him finding out her weaknesses.  

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe, yeah?” The mocking grin on his face causes a shudder to travel through her as she swallows, wishing this was all just a nightmare she could wake up from.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

After that little incident, he thinks that she’s just as sweet as sugar, offering to make him tea and asking if he wants a blanket or an extra pillow so he’d be more comfortable sleeping on the couch.  

He can tell that she’s merely doing it because she’s terrified of him, which she should be. Nonetheless, he thinks it feels nice to be pampered, doted on; to have a pretty girl following his orders like a trained puppy. Makes him figure he's gonna enjoy his stay just fine.  

The following morning though, he’s woken up by her shaky figure standing next to his own tired form, pointing his gun at him.  

His softened bones feel mellow from the sleep and he lets out a sigh, rubbing at his sleepy eyes and shifts to sit on the couch cushions; teasingly lifting his hands up in surrender. 

“Puppy’s got a gun, huh? Trying to be all tough now, are we?” There’s a lazy smile on his face.  

“I— I want you to…leave,” she says, voice rickety and words unsure.  

And he’s trying to take her serious, he really is, but it’s proving to be a little difficult since she resembles a scared little kitten more than someone who knows what they’re doing.  

“You want me to leave? Maybe you should work on your pitch, I’m not very convinced, you know?” The exasperating smirk plastered on his face makes her brows crease.  

“Rafe, this is not a joke,” a scowl shades her face and he thinks she looks rather adorable.  

“Come on, Puppy. You’re not gonna shoot me. You don’t even know how to use that thing, do you?” His voice is even; she hesitates. 

“Well, it can’t be that…complicated?” It’s more of a question than a statement and he really can’t keep the chuckle from bubbling out of his throat. Her frown deepens.  

“Why don’t you give it to me, yeah? You don’t want death on your conscience. Would break you, you’re too soft for that shit.”  

“You don’t— know me.” 

“I know you enough,” he says, finally standing on his feet. He takes a slow step towards her and she squeezes the gun tighter in her trembling fingers.  

“If I give it to you, you’re gonna— you’re gonna…kill me. I don’t wanna die,” her words are hysterical, rushed.  

“Now who said anything about killing you? Look, if you give me the gun right now, I’m not gonna do anything. I give you my word, alright?” He’s towering over her, solid chest nearly grazing the barrel.  

“I don’t trust you,” her voice is a whisper.  

“I know, Pup. But I also know that you’re not gonna use that,” his steady hands are a contrast to her own precarious ones when he grabs for the firearm, slipping it from her weak fingers with ease.  

“There we go, no need to be so fucking theatrical, yeah?” He lowers his head in order to lock his eyes with her frenzied ones.  

“See? Not hurting you, am I?”  

She manages out a hum of agreement and then her waterline is brimming with water, salty droplets trickling down her cheeks as she chokes out a sob. “I’m sorry. I don’t—”  

“Hey, hey it’s all good. Mistakes happen, yeah?” He says and then his strong arms are wrapping around her trembling form because he’s not a complete monster and for some reason that makes her weep harder.  

Her crocodile tears wet his shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind, big paw rubbing against her back. And it’s almost…comforting, she thinks as he starts to sway her from side to side, like he’s trying to calm down a crying child.  

“There you go, just let it all out and maybe you can chill out a bit, yeah? You Pogues can be so fucking dramatic sometimes,” he pats at her back, rolling his eyes as she takes in shaky inhale after shaky inhale until she’s feeling slightly more placid.  

“Shit, if I’d known you were such a crybaby I would’ve picked another house,” he grumbles, pulling away from her weakened form, pushing her back to stumble on her feet; setting the gun back on the coffee table with a clank. 

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

A Day in Life

Synopsis: A day in the life of Jason Todd. Also, he's a househusband now. Oh, and a little plot twist.

Pairing: Househusband!Jason Todd X Gn!Reader; Platonic!Batfam

Tw: Canon level angst for Jason; Some sexual innuendos; Writer apparently doesn't know how to finish a story anymore; This is pretty slice-of-life so maybe boring?; English is not my first language.

Word count: 3,8k

Requested? No.

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

Wake up, make out, get up. First steps of your everyday routine. Sometimes making out turns into something more, but not today.

From his past life, as Robin, Jason learned a lot about discipline. As much as he tried to forget everything and everyone from his past before you, some habits die hard, although with time, with you and with therapy, he accepted that not all of his experience was bad or should be thrown away just because of one sociopathic clown who hurt him. Yes, Jason died, came back angry and did a lot of shit. But he was still alive and this could be a second chance.

While you, his darling spouse, get ready for work, Jason gets up, puts on his apron, fills the dog bowl for Daphne — your little brown dachshund that you adopted together four months after getting married —, opens the doors to the garden, so the dog can do whatever, and finally starts making breakfast and lunch. Breakfast so you two can eat together and lunch for you to eat at work. Sometimes you both meet up and eat together at your office or a restaurant. Today, that's not the case.

Simple yogurt with fresh fruits and nuts, coupled with a slice of chocolate cake he baked the day prior, eggs, toast and coffee for breakfast. As for your lunch box, a natural sandwich, salad, fruits and juice. He also fills up your two liter water bottle, so you feel pressured have no excuse but to stay hydrated.

Food. Until he was 12 his relationship with food was complicated, to stay the least. At first, his beloved but troubled mom would be in no condition to cook him three or more nice and fulfilling meals a day for a growing boy, he either had to learn and make do with quick instant food, eggs and old bread, or starve, since money was something he only saw when it was being handled to her drug dealer. His father was even worse. Jason loved his mom. Still suffers for her. He hated his father who was the one making her addiction worse. He’s still happy he died.

Living on the streets, food was a dream. A bad dream. It either came from trash or he had to do things that made him feel humiliated and guilty just to get some. And it was gone in a flash, he was so hungry he devoured it all in a second, and then his belly hurt.

Then he came. Jason loved his new father. Loved his new grandfather. Loved their food. So healthy, abundant and full of taste. So fun to prepare. He learned a lot from Alfred because he loved to spend time with him, play with the ingredients and make everyone and himself happy with the results.

But then he had those memories wiped out of his mind, (un)fortunately they came back, but at that time food was in the back of his mind. Sure, he didn't have to worry about starving, crime paid more than enough for that, but he didn't put much thought into any of it.

Now, with you, he's making new memories with food. He cooked and baked a lot with you and for you throughout all your relationship, and you did the same for him. He loves his kitchen, just like the rest of your house. The pantry and fridge are always full thanks to you. You take good care of him. You make his trust in you be worth it. And he reciprocates it. Healthy and nice food that brings comfort and makes you roll your eyes. Especially after he started frequenting cooking classes as a hobby, again, thanks to you.

After you are gone with a full belly and a pet in the ass (just like him, honestly), he continues his routine. He changes clothes and goes to the gym. Jason never stopped exercising, but the lack of all the activity vigilantism entails and with all the treats you two have, he started getting more soft. You loved it, he hated it. — Okay he didn't hate it, he just wasn't the most happy with it. Roy thought it was kinda funny, until Jason pointed out he also got softer after Lian. You honestly couldn't see why all that softness they were talking about was so bad since they were still very muscular and defined, just less dry and more snuggly. You honestly thought your Jaybird could go even further. — So the addiction of yoga to his routine happened.

After that, he goes straight home, eats, showers, takes care of his appearance to keep looking like a proper hubby that you can shove on your bitter frenemies faces, and makes sure to keep the maintenance of the house, so you can come back tired from work and enjoy a perfect house to rest on.

Hygiene. Another things that was complicated with his biological family. His father wouldn't touch a single plate or broom, and would beat and scream at his mom if she didn't put her high (again, because of him) ass up and did the labor. Most often than not, their house was messy, had a bad smell that his little nose was so used to that it's not like he minded, and had insects around. His clothes were dirty hand-me-downs, some fit him, some didn't, a lot of them had holes. His hair tangled and itchy.

When he went to the streets, it just got worse.

Bruce and Alfred fixed that. He finally learned what stink was because he only knew good and neutral scents. His clothes fit him. Everything around him was clean and well-kept. No holes, no stains. Hair always trimmed, soft and clean. Well maintained.

When he came back, cleanliness was basic. Of course he is gonna keep everything around him clean. Habit and common sense, you know? Clothes his size because why the hell would he use hand-me-downs when he can just buy his own? And they had to be the right size for his new 6’2 and almost 200 lbs body. Hair? Whatever. Always washed but as long as it didn't look ridiculous he didn't have time to put much thought on his appearance. He was genuinely surprised you were attracted to him at first sight.

Being with you, he learned to enjoy the little things in life again. Sometimes he finds himself unmoving in front of a random room of the house, or in front of the mirror, trying to grasp if it's all real, If this is really his life, if that's how he looks. His mind flashes memories of his childhood home and his current home. He ignores the memories of the manor not only because of the betrayal he felt for Bruce, but also because the manor was from the Wayne's. He was a Wayne. He is not anymore. This is him. His new house, with you, is what he wished he had growing up. What he always dreamed of. Love. Company. And comfort. He felt all of that while being a Wayne, until he despised the Wayne's. Not the couple that died decades ago or the centuries old descendants. But his father and his siblings.

On days where he doesn't take care of the house, he practices his hobbies. He now has time to do it all, surprising you, his therapist, Roy, and himself, he did cooking, gardening, pottery, crocheting and of course, reading. You paid for all his classes, praised him on his achievements, added his creations to the decor of the house, accompanied him on any event or place related to his interests, gave him his own library in one of the rooms in the house. He even made some friends between middle-aged women and the only other househusband and stay-a-home dad that frequented those places.

It was very funny and cute seeing rough, huge, leather jacket wearing and scarred Jason Todd telling jokes to 50-year-old white moms/grandmas and sometimes even babysitting their kids, pets and plants. You knew he could be a good dad one day if you decided to have kids. He was also more than happy to have just you, Daphne and good friends. And plants.

Warmth. When he was a kid his parents broke the heater during a fight, he wondered if they didn't have money to fix it, even with his father's activities, or if his father just refused to fix it. Anyhow, it was always cold in Gotham, freezing on winter, his dirty clothes with holes didn't help much. The streets didn't seem much different in that aspect. The manor kept him warm when he wasn't seven feet under the dirt, in a casket. When he came back, Jason always wore the warmest of clothes, even while sweating, he didn't know why. Now he did. Your house is always warm. Your body is always warm. Comfort. Your love gave him comfort. Warmth. A reason to live.

Love. His mom. Bruce and Alfred. You.

After he was done and rested for a little, Jason took Daphne for a walk in the way to the grocery shop. He wanted to try a new receipt you saw on tiktok today for dinner and had to get more flour and something for the filling.

After a few minutes of walking on his perfectly nice looking and safe neighborhood — nothing like crime alley. The type of neighborhood he saw on the television and imagined those other happy kids his age living and envied them. Dreamed of being adopted into one of their families while jumping from orphanage to orphanage. It never happened. He just got more abused. And then the manor was so isolated that you could only see mansions and plants all around. So big and far away that they looked empty of life. — he got there and strapped the dog to a post, next to a smiley golden retriever.

He got in and- fuck it, I'm going home. The empanadas can wait another day.

— Jason? Oh my god. Jason! Is that you?! — The infuriatingly familiar loud voice calls out from the middle of the shop and all heads turn to look. Shit, he can't go now without embarrassing himself in front of the cashier of his favorite and most visited shop. So he just nods, takes a basket and walks as if there was nothing interesting happening. It worked with the others costumers, unfortunately, Dick thought it was way too interesting and forgot his own basket that only contained eggs and cereal, and started following him around, this time, with a less surprised tone.

— Hey, Dick. — Jason idly muttered, that just made his coff coff brother indignant.

— Hey, Dick?! What the hell? Where were you? It's been three years! We thought you were dead! Or kidnapped! We never stopped looking for you! We were worried! We mourned! What happened? — Was it bad that Jason didn't want to give him a real answer? Probably. Especially with how much his therapist, who he saw on the days he didn't go to the gym, told him he should try to mend things with his family. So much so that he started actually contemplating it recently. But if he did it, it was going to be on his own time. Not by bumping into them in the grocery store. Oh, well. Jason was always good at adapting. The best.

And wow, three years had passed? Makes sense. Recovery does take time and he's been really happy for a while. Jason still remembers the day he decided to quit everything. It was the same day he decided you were the one, truthfully he always knew you were marriage material, the perfect one for him, out of his league, straight out of his most amazing dreams, peak goal for him, but he wasn't sure if he deserved to be the one you should be stuck with forever. He desperately wanted to, but he had to commit. Ride or die. He loved you, now more than ever, and didn't want to waste your time. He was still a bit messy at the time, but you made it all better, he was a lot better than he was before you came into the picture. You were the right choice. Jason always took you seriously, he was just insecure. So, while still in around eight months of relationship, he quit everything.

He quit his family. He quit vigilantism. He searched for recovery. And a year and a half later, with a little more than two years of dating, he made the big proposal. You married on your three-year anniversary. Got Daphne four months later. It's been around three or four months ever since.

While Dick’s math might not be exact, it is not necessary in this context, the point came across just fine.

He also knew that the fact that you both decided to not leave Gotham was going to bite him in the ass one day. One way or another.

— What happened? Oh, well. I retired. Got married. And now I'm a dad. — Daphne was like a daughter to him, so it was the same, right?

His nonchalant reply didn't seem to satisfy the other, though. Todd could see it, the urge to strangle him in his eyes. Dick wouldn't strangle his dead missing little brother, would he?

— You… You what? — Dick was in disbelief.

— You guys searched for me? Thanks, I guess? It means a lot. — Jason just sniffed and went on his way, leaving Grayson behind, paralyzed.

Maybe he could be fast enough and get out of there before the older one got a grasp of his senses back and followed him out. Part of him felt hope, the other heard yours and his therapist voices in his head, and the nagging was annoying. Maybe he never stopped being a “grump”, like you always amusedly said.

Oh, no. Here he comes again. Jason suppresses an eye-roll.

— Stop. Can you really explain? — The mix of emotions was almost overwhelming, an urge to cry, punch a wall, punch Jason's face, scream and who knows what more was running through Dick's body.

Jason sighed and finally addressed him completely. Tone lower so no one could hear.

— Okay. I met someone… Someone good. Someone special. A civilian. I was tired of everything. So I decided to retire and made sure none of you could find me. I'm surprised Roy and Lian kept the secret from you, though. Anyway. Now I'm a stay-at-home hubby, have a dog and go to therapy. You happy? — A beat of silence. — Hey, don't make that face… I was going to tell you guys eventually… When I felt like it… It's not like you guys saw me a lot. How much time did it take for you all to miss me? I made an appearance once in a while when someone asked for help and that's it. Alfred knew everything so if you’re gonna be mad at anyone, be at him too, not just me… And Roy. Don't forget Roy.

— A-Are you kidding me? Oh, yes, blame the butler! You couldn't even tell us? Like “hey guys, I'm gonna retire and take some time for myself for a while. Also, come to my wedding!” I wanted to be invited, you know?! Why didn't you invite me? Did you at least invite Alfred? Did- — Jason rolled his eyes and cut his rant.

— Yes, Alfred was there. Front row and everything. — Dick shrieked.

— T-That’s not the point! — His voice raised slightly from exasperation and both of them checked around for anyone's attention, then came back to the conversation.

Jason raised a hand to interrupt him and took a deep breath.

— Look. I wasn't in a nice place at the time, okay? I'm better now… And I was going to talk to you guys sooner rather than later… — Jason let a moment of vulnerability shine, hoping that would melt his brother's heart and fix things. It did. — We will have a second wedding when we renovate our vows in our 5th anniversary. You can be there… Everyone can be there. — Jason cleared his throat to interrupt the other again. — But now I have to get home in time to make dinner for my honeyboo, so why don't we… Stay in contact and… One of those days everyone can have dinner together and catch up, huh?

Dick took one of the deepest breaths of his whole life. Jason pursed his lips.

— Okay… — He stuck a finger in his face roughly. — But don't disappear again. Or else I promise I’m gonna personally make everyone track you down, understood? — Jason snorted. As if Tim and Bruce wouldn't do it already once they knew everything. As if Bruce didn't secretly keep track of him this whole time. Unless… Unless everyone changed and he didn't know his… His family anymore.

Why did it make him feel weird?

— Yes, boss. — Jason saluted him and left.

— Relax… — You elongated the word. — Nothing bad it's gonna happen… — You went behind Jason and tried rubbing his broad shoulders to chase the tenseness away. The sight and feel of his muscles almost made you drool, and you blinked to focus again.

— How do you know? — You pursed your lips and went to his side to try to make him take his eyes off of cleaning the countertop for the 4th time due to anxiety.

— Because they love you. And they care about you. And they miss you. — Jason deadpanned you. — Just give it a chance. If anything goes wrong, we will just kick them out and you never have to talk to them, ever again. We can even move if you want. Or go on a vacation to the same place we had our honeymoon, I can wear that skimpy piece you like… Spoil you rotten… — Your voice lowered seductively and you pressed your body to his side, running your hand up and down his arms with some pressure.

Jason’s mind went blank and he was speechless for a few seconds. Your eyebrows raised with a small, convincing smile that made all his worries go away. He sighed.

— Okay… Okay, you’re right… — He leaned down and sneaked an arm around your waist. You both shared a slow and wet kiss, bordering between sensual and calming. Unfortunately, he had to wait a few hours before having some action. He pulled his face away a few centimeters, looking you in the eyes. — I thought I had ripped that thing. — You blinked.

— You just might have. But I bought another one because I looked too good on it not to wear it again. — You shared a chuckle when the doorbell rang. You both looked at the door, then at each other. — Want me to get it? — You ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the last of his nerves. Jason swallowed.

— No. Have to get it over with. — He took a deep breath and then let out. Pulling away from your embrace. — Put the juice on the table for me, please? — You hummed and nodded.

Without giving a second thought, he walked in long strides and abruptly opened the door.

It was like that scene in Avengers: End Game when on one side there was just Captain America against the whole Thanos's army, just staring at each other.

— Are you wearing an apron? — Damian snarked with an eyebrow raised. Jason looked down. Yes, he was. Good start.

— Take your shoes off, there’s other shoes for you all there. And here I was having hope that at fifteen you wouldn't be a demon anymore. — Jason said sarcastically and gave them space to enter.

As soon as they got in the neighborhood they were all already skeptical. If you were the only one working, how much do you earn to live in such a nice area and with this nice house? They could even see a pool in the backyard and there were TWO expensive cars in the driveway. Jason said he quit all of the crime lord thing, did he keep the savings? Did he invest?

The little dog came running and barking, taking their attention away from the house and their shoes, Damian immediately crouched to pet her. Jason let a side of his lips go up. At least that hasn't changed.

— Her name is Daphne. — Jason spoke over the cooing of Duke and Cass at the dog. He locked eyes with Bruce who had an unreadable expression on his face. He looked older, Jason didn't know how to feel about that. Then gazed at Dick, who had a shit eating grin, Alfred, whose satisfied smile warmed his heart, and Tim, who was analyzing the space while changing shoes.

— Nice place. So, what does your partner do? — Are they committing fraud? — You appeared from the corner and replied for him.

— I direct the Queen Industries’s Gotham’s office. — You answered softly with a polite smile, stopping besides Jason, who wrapped an arm around you. Everyone's gaze turning on you made you feel shy, but you held on with confidence.

— Oh, wow, so Jason really is a malewife. — Your eyes widened in surprised and you couldn't hold back a laugh. Jason let a small smile graze his lips, coaxing the easiness out of him.

— I offered to pay cleaning and cooking service, but he wanted to do things himself. — You say, a little afraid they would get angry at you for “slavering” their Jason.

— Did you buy those cars outside? — Wow, Tim really was as skeptical as Jason had said.

— Hmhmm. — You nodded simply, as if it was nothing.

Jason's siblings raised their eyebrows and Bruce cleared his throat, and took a step forward, feet clad in fluffy slippers. He offered a hand and presented himself politely to you. You wondered how much of that was his persona and how much was just a father meeting his son's partner.

While giving them a tour of the house, the family — aside from Alfred who already knew it all — observed the details, happy memories in the form of pictures of trips, your marriage, birthdays, anniversaries, Daphne's growing stages, spontaneous moments that just deserved to be eternalized, trinkets, handmade pots, plants, Daphne’s toys, and the decor that was just a mix of you both. No guns in the walls, no corpses buried in the backyard, no blood stains. The only signals that it was their Jason living here and not a clone were the books, pictures and hidden security measures. 

It was… Good. Peaceful. Clearly the change in scenario helped him. It hurt them a little, some more than others, that it took him cutting them off for him to start healing, although, maybe opening up this new side of him for them meant that it wasn't just that. And it wasn't. The fault didn't fall completely on them. Nor on Jason. And one person, you, can't be the solution for all global crisis. Mental health is complex. Trauma is complicated. Past can't be changed, but the future can. 

That night, everyone enjoyed Jason's cooking, Daphne and the new future.

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@wandalfnation

[xomakara]

Behind Closed Doors

SUMMARY |  The quiet guy who lives next door to you hardly seems to notice you, but you can't help but notice him—he's gorgeous. You've given up all hope of striking up a conversation until he comes to your rescue one night after your ex shows up to your house, drunk and looking to take you back, whether you want him or not.

PAIRINGS |  Seonghwa x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  neighbor!Seonghwa, neighbor!Reader, smut, non-idol au, next door neighbor trope

CONTENT/WARNINGS | drunk cheating ex, profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, oral sex (both receiving/giving), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, creampies

LENGTH |  6,053 words

TAGLIST | —

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  I love writing next door neighbor tropes just as much as I love writing college aus. I hope you all like this. Show support by liking, commenting and reblogging. Love you all 💚

"I told you to get out!" you yelled, throwing pillows at the sorry excuse of an ex-boyfriend you dated. You didn't miss when they hit him right in the face, and it gave you a weird satisfaction seeing him be hurt, even though it was from the small weapon.

"C'mon, babe, please. We were so good together!" He complained, attempting to get on his hands and knees and crawl over to where you stood on the opposite side of the sofa.

"Oh yeah? Does that mean that me finding out about you fucking all those random tramps was us being 'good together' too?" you scoffed at him.

"Now, babe—"

"Don't you 'babe' me, you asshole. Go find some other chick to go play house with! I never want to see you again, are we clear!?" you seethed. This had gotten annoying rather fast, and now you could barely stand looking at his face any longer.

"Baby, you know that she's nothing compared to you. You're the only one I ever want. I can't get you out of my—"

"If I was the only one that you cared about, you wouldn't have done that in the first place," you said as calmly as you could, trying not to get more upset by thinking about what he did.

“We all make mistakes sometimes!” He pleaded.

"FUCKING MY LANDLORD IN MY BEDROOM AFTER THINKING I WAS OUT OF TOWN IS A MISTAKE!?!?" you screamed, picking up another pillow from behind you and threw it with full force at him. He only missed the attack by dodging.

"Babe..." He tried crawling to you again but you just punched the sofa as hard as you could.

"I have had it! I am so fucking done! There is no chance in hell we will ever get back together and get married like you'd wanted—we're done. Are we clear on this, Park Donghyun!?" You used his full name in a way that wasn't appealing or desirable. It was in a harsh, angry voice that rang through his ears and scared him slightly. He just stayed on the ground, still crawling as slow as he could and acting as if it pained him for you to feel the way you did.

"Sweetheart, please," he croaked. "You know we belong together. I never really loved them, it was you."

You weren't sure if you two were ever good together or just good fucks to each other—either way, you weren't going back to a person like that. When he reached over the couch for you, you went to dodge out of the way and unfortunately, with your shitty luck, you tripped over the leg of the coffee table and fell, hitting your head hard against the corner as you hit the ground.

There was a lot of pain and the stench of soju filled your nose as Donghyun bent over you with lust filled eyes…and then suddenly nothing.

A few blinks later, the blurry figure above you was now much clearer, but it definitely wasn't your shitty ex-boyfriend. It was a much more beautiful sight: Seonghwa, your gorgeous neighbor who seemed to care more than he should about the stranger across the hallway, not that you were going to complain.

"Hey, hey, you should stay still," Seonghwa spoke softly.

"Oww," you groaned, taking an attempt to move to show you were feeling fine. Seonghwa gently grasped your arms and helped you into a sitting position. "Did that fucker leave?" 

"Don't worry. I made sure he wouldn't be bothering you again," Seonghwa replied, letting his eyes glide down to the purplish mark on the side of your face. It broke his heart to see that someone would ever consider treating someone else, especially a woman, this way. "Did he do that to you?"

"This?" you winced at the slight pain. "No. I was trying to get away from him and I tripped. Unfortunately, there was a table there that knocked me out, not the creep." You let out a long breath and blinked rapidly. "God, why did my life turn into a drama?"

You and Seonghwa sat there awkwardly, neither of you too sure what to do in the current situation you were both in. You were never that close, having only waved at each other a handful of times when you had happened to catch each other at the same time and your eyes met. Other than that, you hadn't gotten past acquaintances with the handsome male, though your friends seemed convinced you should start a relationship with him or at least have a nice quick fling for a week or so.

"Hey," he broke the silence that had been lasting a while. "If you want me to, I can put an ice pack on that for you. Might help to prevent the swelling, not to mention the pain."

You hadn't noticed the ache before, but now that it was mentioned, the spot throbbed almost as if in response. A look of surprise had etched onto your features as you finally answered. "That's alright," you answered a little too fast to be natural, "you don't have to do that."

Seonghwa watched you for a second before his expression melted into one of reassurance. "It's okay, I insist," his features brightened with a genuine smile. "Do you have any in your freezer?"

Before you could respond, he was walking over and grabbing them. With the ice in hand, he sat next to you. His shoulder rested gently against yours, his warmth spreading from his thin cotton shirt to you and you were tempted to sink against him and feel his muscles under his shirt. His smell was intoxicating, the light scent of his body wash still lingering from when he showered before coming to rescue you.

Seonghwa was coming home from running errands when the sound of shouting across the hall caught his attention. He knew it was no place for someone to be alone in such a situation, so he rushed over without a second thought. He didn't even question why the front door was unlocked; he assumed someone was preventing you from leaving and Seonghwa did not like that.

Bursting through the door, Seonghwa's protective instincts surged when he saw your ex looming over you. He didn't hesitate – grabbing the man, shoving him out, and slamming the door shut. Concern flooded him as he turned to you, lying on the living room floor.

Seonghwa was relieved to hear your injury was from a fall, not your ex's abuse. As he held the ice pack to your bruised cheek, his heart ached, wishing he could erase your pain. A permanent frown settled on his concerned face. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly, pulling the ice back to gauge your reaction.

You nodded your thanks, then took the ice pack from him. "My head's pounding," you admitted, "but it was doing that before. The ice actually feels good..." You trailed off, glancing at Seonghwa. He was watching you with such focused attention, it made you self-conscious. "Though, yeah, it is pretty cold."

"Hm... How are things with him? Better now? Do I need to scare him off some more?" He joked, despite the tone and the expression on his face showing nothing more than that.

A dry laugh fell from your lips. "I honestly can't believe him."

"He seemed really obsessed." He nodded as he agreed.

"It's not just that," you scoffed bitterly. "He slept with other women the entire time we were dating, even after he said he loved me. He even slept with my landlady when he thought I was out of town." You shook your head, exasperated. "And here I am, unloading all this on you when we barely know each other. I'm sure you have better things to do than listen to me complain about my ex."

"Well, my schedule is empty at the moment, and I don't mind listening to you talk, either," Seonghwa shifted so that your right knee pressed against his own, his arms resting against his leg. "And about us not really knowing each other, we could get to know each other now and worry about that another day."

You thought about his offer to try and get to know each other while pressing the ice against the bruised spot once again. "So, I should be expecting you in my apartment more often now?"

A slight grin flashed over his lips, a deep chuckle shaking his body lightly. The vibration seemed to radiate into you, a sweet buzz tingling throughout your body and making it warmer than before. "Only if you need rescuing."

The corners of your lips curved into a smile as your free hand reached and ruffled Seonghwa's hair. "Careful now. What would your girlfriend say?"

He let out a laugh. "I'm single if that's what you're asking."

This gorgeous man was single? Even a guy like him was still unattached in this dating scene? As much as you were shocked, you were grateful for the information. You made sure not to let out a relieved sigh as he leaned in toward you.

Seonghwa removed the ice from your hand and held it against your face. It felt like it was much colder now that his fingers were brushing against your skin, especially since the bruise felt a bit better. Not to mention that you could see something sparkle in Seonghwa's eyes. This guy...

"Sorry for coming in unannounced earlier. I just needed to make sure that he wouldn't be able to hurt you," he said with a tinge of guilt in his voice. "You must be surprised I didn't even knock or anything."

You blinked rapidly, pulling back slightly. Then, you reached out and placed your hand over his, helping him hold the ice pack to your cheek. "You don't need to apologize," you reassured him with a warm smile. "I'm just grateful you were here. Who knows what could've happened otherwise, to me or my apartment." Your smile softened. "And don't worry about surprising me. Thank you, Seonghwa."

The shared warmth of your hands on the ice pack faded as Seonghwa withdrew his touch, leaving a lingering warmth on your skin. A flicker of disappointment quickly gave way to a flutter of excitement as his fingers gently grazed your cheek, careful of the bruise. This wasn't the casual acquaintance you'd known from brief encounters at the mailbox; a deeper connection was sparking to life.

Seonghwa kept the ice pack in place, but his focus shifted. His right hand traced your jawline, fingers hesitant yet drawn to your warmth. The intimacy of the moment was unexpected, a spark igniting where only polite exchanges had existed before. His touch lingered, a silent question hanging in the air, as if seeking permission to bridge the gap between comfort and something more.

He pulled his hand away and picked up the now melting bag, bringing it into the open-plan kitchen that connected with the living room. You followed behind him, confused as to why he had stopped the closeness the two of you were sharing before.

You stood in the doorway to the kitchen while Seonghwa refroze the ice pack. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?" His dark brown eyes seemed to sparkle with interest as he studied you.

"Uh, well..."

"Or should I give you some space?" His eyebrows knit together as he fidgeted nervously, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt. "I mean, I shouldn't impose, right?"

As if the fates were giving you the signal to tell Seonghwa that, yes, he was always welcome to 'impose', your stomach growled, growling loud enough that the gorgeous man couldn't have ignored it. You groaned and hung your head slightly while laughing lightly, embarrassment burning across your face and through your body.

Seonghwa let out a laugh. "Come over to my place. I'll whip something up," he said with a gentle voice. He walked out of the kitchen and past you, his fingers lightly brushing against yours. You weren't entirely sure if it was done on purpose or if it was coincidental. But you let him guide you out of your apartment and across the way to his.

A few weeks later, Seonghwa had invited you over for coffee and conversation. Spending more time with the tall and gorgeous man across the hallway didn't sound bad at all. Sure, it had only been a few days since the 'incident', but you had already learned so much. For instance, Seonghwa juggled studying business with bartending gigs and helping out at a friend's car rental. It wasn't the most conventional career path, but he managed it all with surprising ease. Not to mention the fact he had the ability to stay motivated to pull it all off and somehow stay as calm and cool as he is. Then there was the way he effortlessly slipped into his charming demeanor. And how that never left whenever you were together.

Okay, you had to admit you had it pretty bad. This wasn't how you expected to be feeling, given how your relationship with your ex had ended just recently. Yet here you were, admiring this amazingly talented and attractive man sitting in front of you, wearing the most casual clothing possible. Despite looking quite sleepy and lazy with a bit of hair mussed and a very big, comfortable shirt, a small portion of skin was showing and it took all the willpower you had not to stare at him for a little longer. He was that incredible to look at. He'd even fallen asleep in his arm chair, and when you heard soft snores emitted, a light giggle had escaped your lips. Even in sleep, he still looked handsome and you could feel the growing urge to run your fingers through his silky hair and graze his face delicately.

Oh yes, you had it pretty bad... But how would he react? Maybe he would be the one running away. Or not. If he's anything like your ex, then there is a large probability he will leave like all the men you've dated had. Still...

You heaved a sigh and peeked over at Seonghwa, watching his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. You quietly cleared your throat and leaned over the table where his mug still remained, most likely cold. Placing your fingers against the handle, you began moving to grab the mug, planning on placing it in the kitchen sink. But just as you touched the glass of the mug, the sleepy man stirred awake, blinking to get ahold of reality and waking up. Seonghwa yawned widely, the sound catching in your throat. Your heart skipped a beat, a shy smile spreading across your face.

"Didn't mean to fall asleep..." His voice, rough with sleep, sent a shiver down your spine, and you swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure.

"Nah, don't worry about it," a genuine smile graced your features, "I don't mind."

Your reaction seemed to comfort him as he rose from the chair and stretched before gathering his coffee mug and reaching out for yours, collecting them to take them to the kitchen and making more coffee for the two of you. You watched intently as his fingers went to his hair to mess it up a bit before coming back to the living room and sitting. He leaned back, exposing more skin at the neck of his shirt, making you realize he didn't have a shirt underneath it.

"So I've been thinking. About that creep," he paused and sipped the coffee. "I was thinking. You and I should hang out together when the creep is nearby. See if it helps to show him that you've moved on."

"Oh? And you think it would work?" You raised your brow, interested and skeptical.

"Yeah," he said it too quickly. His hand went to rub the back of his neck and his gaze stayed down, avoiding you. "He might just have gotten the hint that you don't want anything to do with him. Maybe we can help the process move along? That's if you want to."

His flustered state was adorable, a blush dusting his cheeks as he averted his gaze. You couldn't help but giggle at his bashfulness.

"Are you certain about this? It would mean spending a lot more time together," you teased, enjoying his flustered reaction. His grip tightened on the mug, and he avoided your eyes. "Unless you're only suggesting this out of concern, and you don't actually want to..." you trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

"It's not like that," his voice was a tad shaky and almost sounded panicked as his eyes locked with yours, the flush still coloring his skin. "I'm kind of interested. In you..."

His confession brought heat rushing to your face as well, and your embarrassment was written all over, judging from the amused smirk on Seonghwa's face and how you averted your eyes to focus on the floor. “I’m interested in you too…”

"Y-yeah?" he stammered, his voice catching in his throat. He looked every bit the nervous schoolboy, clutching his coffee mug like a lifeline and darting his eyes anywhere but your face. His lips parted, then closed again as he licked them nervously.

Seonghwa's flustered reaction was endearing. It was hard to believe this confident, capable man was reduced to a blushing, stammering mess in your presence. The realization that he was interested in you, of all the women in the complex who likely vied for his attention, sent a thrill through you. It was impossible not to fall for him a little harder in that moment.

With your mutual confessions hanging in the air, the atmosphere shifted. It became charged with a new intimacy, though a hint of awkwardness lingered. Seonghwa's eyes darted around the room, while your face couldn't help but break into a wide smile. This was a new beginning, a thrilling and uncertain one. As the initial tension eased, Seonghwa visibly relaxed, though he still couldn't quite meet your gaze. He fidgeted with his mug, taking a few sips, and your eyes met in a shared moment of laughter, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings now laid bare.

"Ah," he set his mug down before standing. "Do you maybe want to go out to dinner sometime? Just the two of us?" His gaze returned to you as you got up and put your mug down, keeping it by the table as he placed his in the sink to be cleaned later.

"I'd like that. Let's do it," you couldn't contain your excitement, and your hand instinctively reached out, slipping over where it rested on the sink. Your fingers intertwined with his, causing him to gasp softly. But he didn't pull away; instead, his grip tightened slightly, sending a warm jolt through you.

Seonghwa couldn't speak, his joy evident in the widening of his smile and the tightening of his hold on your hand. As if remembering his usual charm, a playful smirk tugged at his lips. He covered his mouth with his free hand, trying to contain his happiness, while his fingers intertwined with yours. "Yeah?" he managed, his voice barely a whisper.

A rush of heat burned your cheeks as you swallowed a nervous lump before answering. "Yes, I want to spend time with you."

His grip loosened, and he closed the distance between you, his warm breath washing over you. A moment of hesitation, a flicker of nervousness in the air, and then your eyes met. In an instant, you were enveloped in his embrace, his nose brushing affectionately against yours before his lips found yours. The kiss was intoxicating, a dizzying sensation heightened by the gentle pressure of his lips guiding yours.

All too soon, the feeling came to an end when he pulled back, leaving you a mess while he remained fairly composed, his smile beaming brilliantly. "Let me know when you want to go out and I'll take you anywhere. And anytime," Seonghwa cupped your flushed cheek with his palm. His touch sent electric sparks flying over every spot of your skin. "Call me, text me...come over any time."

"Okay," a smile that you didn't even feel could exist came to life as he leaned down again and kissed you, deepening this one a bit more and sending you further into an intense and head spinning trance.

He gave a bright and wide smile that shines as brightly as the sun as he took your hand in his, locking the two of your fingers together as he guided you out to the apartment hallway. He leaned against his open door frame, watching as you opened your front door. Before you could step through, you spun to face him, wanting to thank him, only to be met with him pulling you back and pecking your lips briefly.

"Hey, I'll stop by later if you want," his gorgeous dark brown eyes were sparking and begging you not to reject his offer. "I'll bring dinner. Sounds good?"

"Sure, yeah. That'll be nice," you answered, words slightly slurred since your head hadn't completely returned from being caught in the bliss of those kisses.

"Cool. I'll see you then," he placed a light kiss upon your nose before watching you return to your place.

The sound of the lock clicking shut echoed behind him as Seonghwa practically flew back into his apartment, his joyous shouts filling the living room. He was overflowing with pure elation, warmth spreading through him like wildfire. Rescuing his beautiful neighbor had been an impulsive act on a seemingly ordinary day, but who could have predicted it would lead to this?

"I can't believe how lucky I am," Seonghwa thought, already planning how to shower his new girlfriend with affection. She deserved so much more than that awful ex. The best dates, the best gifts, everything she wanted would be hers. He vowed to dedicate himself to her happiness, helping her erase every painful memory of the past.

After numerous dates filled with stolen kisses and lingering touches, you couldn't deny your growing desire for something more. The passion intensified with each shared moment, often leading to intimate cuddles on the couch or in bed, despite having dinner waiting or a movie paused in the background. Resisting the urge to take things further was a constant battle, but your patience was rewarded during a particularly heated make-out session one evening.

You were the first to move, rising off the couch to settle in his lap, arms finding their way around his neck while your hips were taken control of by Seonghwa's hands. Those skillful and very long fingers seemed to know exactly where to knead and grab as his teeth and tongue both went to work to drive you crazy. The fabric of his jeans was not comfortable at all and you tried to adjust your hips a bit to seek more comfort and maybe to send him some messages that you really enjoyed what was occurring. However, this movement seemed to rile Seonghwa up a bit.

"Can we..." you started to ask but couldn't find the rest of the words that you desperately sought out.

"We can... We can move it to the bedroom," he had already read you like an open book and his arms wrapped around you. "Or stay here if you don't mind the couch? We can go weherever you want to go."

As much as you liked the idea of staying right where you were and continuing this there and then, you weren't certain if you wanted the first time to be on the couch, even if that's where all the previous kissing had led. Shaking your head lightly, your answer was given and Seonghwa gladly lifted you and carried you with his long legs taking large and quick steps to his room, leaving kisses along the sides of your neck and behind your ear, a known sensitive spot for you.

He pressed you onto the mattress, his lips finding the sensitive spot beneath your ear, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you cried out his name. How had this incredible man become yours? His touch was magic, igniting sparks wherever his fingers traced, leaving you weak and pliant in his arms. You threaded your fingers through his soft, thick hair, the boyish style contrasting with the raw passion in his eyes.

“You're so handsome, Seonghwa," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

"Handsome and talented? Hmm? And totally yours," his bright eyes shined with his dazzling smile and his eyebrows rose. "I'm yours, angel. All yours."

"I want you, Seonghwa..." you couldn't contain how badly you wanted him, the yearning strong as you watched him move his head to one side and his face nuzzle your neck. A light growl and he bit the spot he'd just exposed by moving out of the way before his teeth dragged his lower lip slowly back across the surface.

"You can have all of me," the smirk was obvious from the sound of his husky tone. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Do whatever you ask and I'll gladly listen."

"You should probably know... I've never been on top. Always the bottom," you admitted.

"Hmmm...so you want to ride this tonight?" He grinded his crotch over top of yours, allowing the rough friction to give you a preview, the movement so expert and sensual as his eyes shut and he threw back his head, lips parted to let out a groan. "Because I can make that happen if it'll please my angel."

You couldn't stop your fingers from raking along his bare skin beneath his shirt, digging slightly as your back arched for more contact. "Yes. I want that. Will you give it to me?"

"Hell yes," his husky growl had you burning for him with anticipation and the excitement made your hands shake as your shirt was removed. In seconds, the rest of your clothing had been peeled from your form and Seonghwa stood by the bed to toss off everything.

There wasn't time to admire the masterpiece that he had under his pants because those hands returned, sliding along your curves and hips before flipping you up to straddle over him. Once settled and comfortable, your eyes fixated on how aroused he was before you as your core was positioned directly over the bulge pressing firmly against your heat. Your hands supported you in his lap with the flat of your palms pressed against the soft sheet, just below his firm, perky chest. With each slight wiggle of your hips, an enticing moan erupted and his head pushed back while his length grinded against your sex, creating a lovely mix of heat and wetness that coated over his growing arousal. The slick and wet noises each time you rolled or swiveled your hips sent your head spinning and you wanted nothing more than to continue that until you would eventually need a taste of that pulsing, red, swollen tip.

"Hwa? Can I suck you for a bit?" you whispered as your lips spread out across his upper chest.

A light hum that was filled with pure desire came as a response from him before a broken 'fuck' slipped free as the first touch of your tongue and lips worked across his defined collarbone and your fingers began working his growing length. Each pump made your core swell and dampen more, and the anticipation and arousal nearly blinded you, so badly were you just yearning to be filled and used.

When he seemed to be unable to handle it any longer, Seonghwa flipped you back around so your rear faced him and you had your mouth leveled with the object that would very soon satisfy that part of your aching sex. "Why don't I eat you out while you suck me? Sounds fair to you, babe?"

You could only hum against the smooth skin of his arousal and closed your eyes when you felt his palms roaming across the curvatures of your rear before spreading the plump cheeks. He didn't waste any more time before diving right in with a long, deep lick to your soaking pussy. Each swirl and circle had you wanting to moan and push your hips back for more while at the same time, trying to take him deep, gagging slightly until you began to find the right balance and breathing technique. Seonghwa was a lot bigger than your last boyfriend, but luckily for you, there was enough practice and pleasure before, thanks to your skills, to prepare for him.

"Fuck Hwa, right there...ohh!" your cries got a little louder and your body felt more restless when he began nibbling and licking over your clit.

"Come on, angel. Don't stop sucking me," he purred against your heat and the vibrations drove you higher and more insane.

As soon as he returned and increased his attention on you, you returned yours to his deliciously thick and hard length. You would make sure to give it the utmost care and attention, no matter how good it felt to have those masterful lips and tongue working you in the most sensitive spots. You pulled out all the tricks and techniques you knew, bobbing your head at just the right moment and at the perfect angle that you could take him in more and at the right moment would stroke his base. Meanwhile your other hand carefully rolled his sack and when you weren't completely focused, would pull up lightly from its place. Each moan he let out into your dripping cunt had your legs quivering and you weren't sure how much longer you could take before coming undone.

Your head was beginning to cloud more and more with desire and lust while the hot and slick sounds and your panting grew louder the longer the oral stimulation went on for. It took your whole power and energy to remember that you had your hands working while you felt like a puddle, near your limits of coming undone as his tongue swiped against the most sensitive nerves. It became increasingly difficult to focus and concentrate on keeping your throat and gag reflexes under control with each bob. You definitely weren't going to be able to handle this for much longer if things kept going at that pace.

"Hwa, I can't...ahhhhh," your screams echoed as his talented tongue and the slight prodding of a long, slender finger at your entrance had you finishing in no time.

"Me too, angel," his breathy moans were encouraging as were the heavy panting from his mouth while he pushed his hips back and forth, gliding easily within your mouth with the help of your hand. "Oh, fuck... Fuck! Here it comes, babe..." Seonghwa grunted as he shoved his cock back further into your warm, wet, and waiting mouth and you swallowed and held him in there, eyes watering and stinging slightly.

Once he eased up and the load that had shot directly down your throat was swallowed, you turned around and crawled up his body, your lips latching onto his neck.

"I'm not quite done with you yet, Hwa," your hand gripped his throbbing member once more, rubbing teasing circles along the sensitive flesh and feeling it twitch within your fingers. Your thumb smeared the moisture from the head across the entire, swollen shaft, making the pumping slick and quick. "Need you in me...right fucking now..."

"Take it as much as you need, angel," the raspy voice growled back as he used your soaked entrance to slick and prep his length.

In the matter of a single second, his full length slid straight into you and you let out a drawn out moan. With the size of your new lover, he hit spots that no one had ever even come close to touching. He was that thick and long, hitting places you'd never imagined having touched. He must have been blessed by the gods and you were incredibly lucky.

"If I'm hurting you—" Seonghwa began to ask, concern etched on his face.

"No! Hwa, you're fine... Better than fine," a breathy, eager, and almost desperate whimper met his ear as you grinded your hips on his length, begging for movement and pleasure from him. "Fuck, you fill me up so well. It feels so amazing," you added.

His hips rolled and with each stroke, each thrust was controlled and steady as he made certain to hit your deepest spots, rocking his pelvis at the perfect angle so he could continuously graze along that spot deep inside, coaxing it to explode and send you over. "So tight and wet...perfect...fuck, this pussy is gorgeous and sweet. And only mine. Right, angel? My girl's perfect tight little pussy is all mine?" Seonghwa asked and smirked after hearing your sweet sounds.

All you could do was nod, clutching him and running your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to hold off your second climax as long as you possibly could, even though the way his cock kept sliding, prodding and working along that one sweet spot would become your undoing. That, and his filthy words. Those filthy words mixed with the beautiful grunts and moans from him were so sexy. He was already wrecking you so much.

"All yours, baby," you said softly. "Only yours."

"So perfect, my angel. Come on, my sweet angel," his husky voice murmured and encouraged you to keep going and let the feelings come to their highest peak.

"H-harder. Fuck me harder, Hwa." The sensations within you built, the pressure and knot deep within ready to burst. Just a little more. Only a little more and you could finish and feel free of the bliss and pleasure that your boyfriend was so skillfully bringing forth.

"Prettiest, most angelic voice...just listen to the little moans you're making... Fuck!" Seonghwa pounded and pounded deeper and deeper into you until you were a babbling mess. He fucked the words completely out of you, replacing them instead with sweet moans and screams of his name. That angelic sound of you reaching your climax did not go unnoticed as it bounced along his bedroom walls and your tight walls squeezed him.

It was all too much. After giving you such a glorious release that had you seeing stars, Seonghwa reached his high, moans mixing together as the two of you panted and clutched each other with strong arms. The two of you basked in the high the two of you had just taken part of and came down from slowly, hearts beating at erratic rhythms while your breath returned.

"Wow..." Seonghwa spoke softly. "You're amazing, angel."

"That was...that was great," you still hadn't fully recuperated from the waves and the intensity of the mind blowing experience with him. "But Hwa...baby?" you questioned.

"Hm?" Seonghwa questioned, his voice raspy with contentment.

"We definitely need showers," you giggled.

"Hm... But I can't walk yet, my legs are numb," Seonghwa stated as he gently patted your rear.

You giggled and smirked, "Get stronger ones, mister," before settling down on his chest.

"My legs can barely move! A shower sounds awesome, but I'm so comfy and tired right now," he made a fake, overly loud snoring sound.

You poked the tip of his nose. "How about I draw a bath for us then?"

"Perfect. Or we could skip the bath all together and just do some more...adventures...in bed," he had a smile full of mischief and the wink had you giggling and shaking your head, a blush finding its way into your cheeks once more.

"You and your dirty mind..." you went to get up and start the water, only to have him grab your wrist and sit up slightly, the sweat dripping down and his cheeks rosy pink.

"Angel, one more? Then we can be good and clean," his pleas were soft and inviting, and very convincing when coupled with the sweet smile and twinkling eyes.

"How about sex in the bathtub instead? As a compromise and to satisfy your neediness," you said and put a finger to your lips.

Seonghwa chuckled. "You drive a hard bargain. That's a deal."

[in-som-niyah]

Jason in weird positions is everything to me

[shadowkoo]

Almost Home

→ Summary: Your boyfriend looks extra yummy when he's in the driver seat, which tends to turn you into a feral, needy animal.

↠ wooyoung x f.reader | 712 words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, pwp, established relationship

→ Warnings: roadhead, oral (male receiving), ball squeezing, teasing, slightly bratty!reader, cock choking & cock swallowing if you squint lol, praise kink, slight exhibitionism & voyeurism, i think that’s it but let me know if i missed something

→ Networks: @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @pirateeznet @othersideoutlawsnetwork

→ Author Note: just a quick drabble bc i have a looooot of thoughts about the photos woo has been sharing lately ugh, not edited either so yeah...enjoy

“We’re surrounded by other vehicles right now, you can’t wait?” Wooyoung exasperates, exhaling a breath as your hands slide up his thigh.

“Just drive faster so no one sees me face first in your lap. It’ll be fine,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“But we’ll be home soon,” he points out lamely, trying to distract you - and himself.

You can’t wait though, he looks almost too good. There’s just something about the way he sits in the driver’s seat, exuding confidence and control, both of which have heat pooling in your center. It's the way he owns the space, completely in charge, and it’s making you lose your mind.

“Let me suck you off, please?” you whine. “I’ve missed you, all of you. Especially your pretty dick. I know it missed me too.” You lean over the center console of his car to kiss his neck, letting your hand dip in between his legs to cup his package. He hisses at the initial contact, then melts into your touch. He secretly loves it when you praise any part of him, even if you use the word pretty in the same sentence.

“Baby,” he groans, tipping back against the headrest and swallowing hard.

“I’ll stop if you really want me to,” you say, massaging him through his pants.

“Fuck,” he grips the steering wheel tighter while increasing speed, “Don’t you dare stop.”

Dipping into his pants after undoing them, you free his hardening length from the layers of fabric. You’re mesmerized by the little beads of pre-cum that spill out of his angry tip. Using your thumb, you smear them across his velvety flesh before immediately taking him in your mouth. The head of his length alone is enough to fill your mouth.

Wooyoung’s body stiffens from the sudden contact, and he might have accidentally swerved into the other lane, just for a second, when your teeth graze along the underside of his heavy head.

Christ.

Removing your mouth from him, you kiss every inch of his thickening length, effectively teasing him until more pre-cum leaks from his small hole.

His body reacts with another shudder when your other hand goes lower to cup his balls, your palm tightening around them when you leave another feather-light kiss on the very tip top of his member just to drive him crazy.

“You’re such a brat. Stop teasing and start choking on my cock already,” he grumbles, using his free hand to shove your face back down.

You comply, wrapping your hand around his girth and lowering your mouth around him. Mmm, you definitely missed this.

Hollowing your cheeks, you take him in further and further until your sputtering along his length.

Wooyoung loves the way your mouth stretches to take all of him. If he wasn’t so hyper focused on not crashing the car, he’d fuck the hell out of your mouth right now. He’ll make time for that later, you know, once you make it home.

Coming up for air, you grin toward your boyfriend while a string of saliva falls from your mouth. “I swear I’ll never get enough of this, enough of you,” you moan.

Wooyoung watches intently as you take in his full length again, only breaking eye contact when he needs to check the road.

“Look at you, you’re unreal. Do you know that?” He says, his eyes burning into yours as he looks down at you again. He rubs a fallen piece of hair out of your face. “Just gorgeous.”

His words make your panties wetter than they already are and you squeeze your legs together for some kind of relief.

You continue to play with his balls as you hum around him while he’s deep in your throat, a move you’ve learned that will send him spiraling right over the edge.

A few seconds later, his hips jerk and he twitches inside you. His hot, seedy release shoots down the back of your throat while he lets out the most delicious moan you’ve ever heard.

“Mmm,” you say, licking your lips once you pull yourself off him. “That was fun. Now take me home and dick me down properly as a thank you.”

He shakes his head, the corners of his lips curling into a smile, “As you wish.”

→ Taglist: @gyupremacy @beomcoups @yoonguurt @sinfullygay

↠ not on the list yet? sign up here!

©shadowkoo 2024. All rights reserved.

[punkeropercyjackson]

It's so FUCKING INFURIATING AND EMBARRASING how fanon Jason Todd stans always tell newbie Jason fans 'Don't read comics,just make shit up!!!' when they SHOULD tell them 'If you're scared to read comics,just watch Under The Red Hood!' when it's the perfect Jason adaption and average movie length!!!If you like Jason Todd but haven't actually consumed his media yet and want to get started,ignore those niggas because they're the same people who pretend Jason's Robin dosen't exist because he's black,are disgusted that all three of his love interests have been woc because they want him to only date white boys and white pick me girls and complete erase Jason's autistic-coding,goth punk slay and just his entire swag including what'd make him beyond good afrolatino rep but are foul enough to hc him as latino anyway.Those are the devils talking and you should tune them out by starting up Utrh and you should get your favorite snacks for too because you deserve them and i've read every Jason issue ever so if you want more info on him when you're done follow me since i'll actually know what i'm talking about,i love y'all and stay hydrated and ignoring Janky Talker truthers

[thealtoduck]

*In a 5 way phone call conversation with the outlaws + Tim*

Jason: Sex is not dating.

Y/n, completely oblivious: If it were, Jason and I would be dating.

Kori: …

Roy: …

Tim: …

Jason: …Anyways so-

[jjoongstar]

𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔

➺pairing: hongjoong x afab!reader

➺genre: nsfw, pure filthy smut, slight humour at the end

➺wc: 1.6k

➺warnings: overstimulation, penetration, protective sex, choking, squirting, mirror sex, missionary, doggy, fingering, scratching, biting, marking, spanking (tell me if i miss any!)

➺synopsis: he fucks her too good & too much up to her limits :D

➺a/n: my first smut that I'm posting here, so sorry in advance, pls spare me😓

"again."

what? your head still in a daze while hongjoong ties off the used condom filled with his seed, tossing it away and he slips on a new one. your body is aching but looking down at hongjoong's girth, its still thick and throbbing. he pulls you by the ankle and inserts himself back in and you elicit a loud moan in surprise.

he grips your hips tightly and his thrusts into you are hard and needy. his eyes full of lust. he moans out your name out loud. along with praising you how good you made him feel. your pussy hugs his dick so well, like it was molded perfectly to fit him.

he knew you were close when he felt your pussy clenching around his dick. he moves in and out faster and you grip the bed sheets beside you and you came all over him. again. "fuck, baby, you feel good?" he slows down his movements before you nod simply at his words that could barely hear.

he continues on moving faster not letting you fully recover from your high. your legs shaking over the stimulation he gave you. he felt leans in closer to you burying his face at your neck. "I'm so close," he pants out, feeling his breath tickling your ear.

his last thrust made you jolt up a bit. you felt his body tense and his cum spurts out of his dick into the condom. you could still feel it inside you.

"god you're making me insane," he slips out the used condom and puts on a new one.

you look at up at him in disbelieve. he's right. he is insane. you've lost count how many rounds it went, how many orgasms you both had, how long you two had been going, even the time. what time is it now? who knows. not that he cares anyway.

he flips you over and grabs your hip pulling it upward. you have no energy left in you and you flop your head onto the mattress. all of your movements were guided fully by the man in charge.

spreading your legs a little wider, he slips himself back into your hole. even after all that, your pussy still feels tight to him. he moans out loud as he molest your ass making you feel back the arousal in you and lands his hands flat onto your skin making you yelped.

every time he went back and forth, drilling his thick cock into your dripping pussy, he spanks your ass cheeks. tills its red and tingling in pain. he loves to see you in this state. all fucked up as he fucks you from behind, leaving his handprints on your butt. you love it too. it felt so good every time he connects his hand to your skin, you moan out his name in pleasure, thanking him so much for it. it had your drooling, painting the bedsheet in splodges of a darker shade than its original colour.

you raise your hand weekly, trying to reach out to him from behind. the tingling feeling in your stomach builds up again. he notices the it and the way your legs are slightly twitching. "come together with me baby," he left his hand from your hips and makes its way to your head, tracing your spine before he grabs a fistful of your hair from your scalp. he tugs it back, gentle but firm. a final thrust from and you both came, but he didn't slow down. instead he went for a few fast thrust before pulling out, making you scream out his name. he puts you down, letting you lay on your side.

you were catching your breath, chest heave up and down, you felt so tired, your throat hurts, your back is in pain, your legs sore, heck, your whole body is aching. your eyes glued on hongjoong, as he gets up from bed and repeats the same process. you sigh in defeat and close your eyes shut upon seeing him rip another condom packet. here we go again.

your eyes shot open when you were dragged by him to the edge of the bed, in front of the tall body mirror standing against the wall. he sits down at the edge and lifts you off for a while then pushes yourself on his still hard dick. he kisses your shoulder blade when you whimpers at him. reassuring you that its fine.

"be a good girl for me, love," he spreads your legs wider by his leg and hooks each of them to his, locking you in place.

his hip movements were slow as he just wants to grind himself with his dick in you. his hand moves around touching every single part of your body. he squeezes both of you breast making you let out a long moan. he fondles them roughly enough making you feel a bit better from the constant ache.

he trails wet kisses all over your back and neck, biting, sucking, licking, marking. you felt like being branded by him at this point by all of the marks he left on your body. he moves his dominant hand to your pulsing wet pussy. he stripes down your fold collecting all the liquid that came out of you from the previous rounds with two of his fingers and he puts then in his mouth, savouring every single drop.

"fuck, you taste so good, babe," he lets out his fingers and grabs your jaw forcing you to face him as he kisses your lips. it wasn't rough, but sloppy and wet. his tongue dives into your mouth, exploring every corner. he pushes out the liquid in his mouth into yours. he wants you to taste yourself that was mix with the taste of his mouth. he pulls away when he felt your grip on his thigh, telling him you were out of breath. he looks at you and bites his lip, holding a smile back from himself. he loves the way you look right now. the way your eyes bore into his, half lidded, your hazy mind, your swollen lips, the string of saliva connecting your both lips, and your overall disheveled, fucked out state.

while you were distracted by his beautiful eyes, his well sculpture nose, his gorgeous face, he used the same hand from before and rubs your swollen clit. back and forth, up and down, side to side. every movement made you feel like electricity flowing into your body. it didn't take long for you to cum on his fingers. you cry out for his name and arch your bare back against his chest when he didn't let you ride out your high and instead moves faster.

your legs getting numb you can't feel your toes anymore, you grab onto his thighs so firm, digging your nails deep, knowing it'll leave indents and you pull your nails, scratching his plump bare thighs, it hurts like its bleeding, and he loves it so much, be groans into your ear. you feel a tight knot swirling inside your lower abdomen and you cry your lungs out when the feeling went out of your pussy.

"shit, that's so hot, look at you!" he exclaims and you look at him through the mirror, you gasped in shock with your view. you just squirted and the liquid was everywhere. the floor, hongjoong's hands, his legs, the mirror even. you slump back, resting your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes trying to calm yourself.

but obviously hongjoong is not having it as you felt his dick twitch inside you. he lifts you off and lays you on you back in the middle of the bed. the air in the bedroom smell nothing else but sex. your whole body felt sticky, smeared with all kind of juices.

"i haven't cum yet sweetheart," was all you heard before he made his way into you again.

"hongjoong please, let's stop for a bit-" you whine at him but he shuts you up by attaching his lips to yours. muffling every sound from you. after he devours you lips, leaving you in a trance, he lifts off your leg raising it over his shoulder and he starts drilling himself. again.

"h-hongjoong, wait!" he didn't wait, obviously. he wraps his hands around your throat, firmly enough to make you roll your eyes back.

"look at me when i fuck your brains out, baby," he orders you but his voice sounds like a blur to you. he grips your neck a bit tighter than before, shaking your face a bit, enough to bring your attention back at him and you moans out at the feeling, crying out for him.

but this time, you felt different. your whole body hissing in pain, your pussy aching, your head feels dizzy, you can't feel any of your limbs anymore and your vision went dark and your mind went out too.

"y/n?" hongjoong slows down his thrust and finally stopped when you didn't respond and your body went limp.

"Y-Y/N WAKE UP!!" he slaps your face a few times gently. he quickly pulled out when you gave him the same reaction.

he ran towards the bedside table, grabbing his phone, quickly unlocks it and towards the phone app.

"hongjoong? why...what's wrong?" the voice of the receiver croaks in a raspy voice.

"SEONGHWA! Y/N, S-SHE PASSED OUT!!"

"WHAT? HOW? WHAT DID YOU DO?!?"

"uhhh i kinda fuck her too good??"

"...."

"seonghwa??"

"how long...."

hongjoong pulls out the phone away from his ear, checking at the time and he lets out a small gasp. 4.07 am.

"hongjoong....SINCE WHEN?!" seonghwa notices the silence and speaks up first.

"since after we came back from dinner around 11...ish something??"

"YOU WENT ON FOR 5 HOURS NON STOP?!?!?"

dividers

taglist: @engentiny

can send an ask to be on the taglist <3

network: @othersideoutlawsnetwork

[baronessvonglitter]

Blue Hour

outlaw!Joel Miller x runaway hitchhiker!f!Reader

Word count: 2.8K

Summary: hitchhiking in the cruel Texas desert, you're picked up by a handsome stranger

WARNINGS: outlaw!Joel (not mentioned exactly what criminal activity he's involved in, but he does bear scars and looks as if he's been in a fight recently), also he's on the run, brief mentions of parental abuse and alcoholism, strangers to lovers, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex (birth control is briefly discussed), soft!Joel (he's respectful of boundaries)

Author's Note: I had initially wanted to do a trucker story, but thought that the criminal element fit better here. I would absolutely love to see a trucker!Joel fic if it doesn't already exist. Please do tag me if it does! Also this is lightly edited but the love is there..

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

You're both running from something; that's how you find each other.

On a lonely stretch of highway in West Texas, Joel Miller picks you up on the side of the road, his mindset one of penance. If he does a good thing by saving someone maybe he can save himself. You're just glad to get away, as far away as possible from a mom who drank all the time, berated you, beat you, and was only at her most peaceful when she was passed out cold.

It's a danger in and of itself to get into Joel's truck, and a danger to come into his motel room, but to you, any other place is safer than where you grew up. The little roadside motel is brightly lit, welcoming, the sign neon against the cerulean summer evening sky.

By the fluorescent glow of the cheap TV screen with its staticky channels you exchange your stories. Joel doesn't tell you much apart from the fact that he's headed to New Mexico, and the scar on his nose, the way he's healing from a black eye you surmise is probably from a couple weeks ago. He carries a gun and his wallet is thick with cash. You can tell he's bad news but you don't care. You're just happy to have a roof over your head for the night and a plan of some sort of future taking shape in your mind.

With only one bed he offers to take the floor, but you insist it's fine to share. He's been a gentleman so far, despite the obvious flirtatious vibes you've been giving. It's impossible to keep to yourself as you both settle down to sleep. Your new life started the day you walked away from your home. You're a different person in this bed, laying on a cheap mattress with a handsome stranger. And, though you've never gone much farther than kissing, the newness of desire tugs at you from deep within.

"Joel.." his back is turned to you and he barely catches you calling for him. You press your hands to his back, which immediately gets his attention. He looks at you with slight confusion, as if he'd forgotten you were there, and when he sees the meaningful look in your eyes he knows what it is you want, and you don't stop him when he pulls you close.

Joel's fingers tangle in your hair, his other hand roaming over your waist and hip, caressing and claiming you with a hungry and desperate fervor. You moan softly, your tongues dancing against each other, and you melt under the sweet shared pleasure. Your fingers slip beneath his shirt, feeling the broad smooth expanse of his back.

His senses are afire as your fingers trace along his bare skin, and his own hands continue to wander, skimming along your sides, gently caressing the curve of your hip. He pulls back just enough to take a breath, his forehead coming to rest against yours, breathing in short, shallow gasps.

"I like the way you taste," you tell him, your confession soft and simple in the twilight glow of the room, your words caressing his lips. Joel's eyes darken with desire as he gazes at you in the semi-darkness.

"Yeah? And how do I taste, darlin'?" There's an edge of a growl to his words, his fingers stroking softly along your cheek, a fusion of longing and restraint etched into his expression.

"Like cinnamon, and whiskey," you whisper. "You taste like pleasure.."

He pulls you closer, nudging his nose against yours as a low, possessive growl rumbles in his chest. "You taste like sunshine and sweetness, sugar.." He dips his head back down to capture your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips, swallowing your moans. Every sound, every gasp you make, fuels the fire burning within him, igniting an intoxicating blend of desire and hunger.

One arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand slides down your back, trailing fire along your skin as he moves lower, gently cupping your ass and pulling you against the heated length of his body. You gasp at the intimate touch. The way he presses you to his hardness awakens and excites something in you. "Joel!" you gasp.

The sound of his name, breathed out so sweetly from your lips, sends a shiver down his spine. "That's it. darlin'.. say my name.."

You whimper at the sweet friction as he continues to deliberately press you to his hardened arousal, kneading your cheeks. "Joel.." you say obediently, whispered in innocent pleasure.

He groans softly. "That's my good girl.." He presses you against him once more, allowing you to feel the full extent of his arousal, the heat and weight of it grinding against your core. Desire floods your veins and you slowly undulate your hips, finding little comfort in merely rubbing against him. "Fuck, you drive me crazy, darlin'," his voice is husky and raw with need.

"I want you.. please don't make me wait.." you tell him.

"Yeah? You want me.. like this? Is this how you want me to fuck you?" Joel's voice drips with primal need as he grinds against you, feeling the heat and wetness, his own arousal painfully hard at this point.

You nod, your breath catching in your throat. "I can't think about anything else right now. Just you.. with me."

"Darlin', I can't hold back anymore.." he warns, but he takes time to ask about birth control, and you assure him you are covered.

You reach up to kiss him, before breaking apart a moment to take off your top and help him remove his own. The feel of his warm flesh against yours is heavenly. He bears scars and old wounds upon his flesh, evidence of a life lived in danger. But right now you only think about how warm he feels, how strong he is. "I just want to feel your skin against mine for a little bit.."

Joel's touch is almost reverent as his large, calloused hands roam your bare skin, learning the contours of your soft supple flesh, cupping each breast. "My sweet girl.." he whispers in awe.

Likewise, you trace every little scar, thinking on how each of those fights, those deadly interactions, brought him one step closer to you. "I need you," he whispers, feeling more alive, brand new under the heat of your palms on his chest. His fingers find the waistband of your panties and his eyes quickly flick to yours, seeking permission. "Is this all right?" You nod eagerly, "Lift up your hips for me," comes his quiet command, and he gently tugs at the elastic, slowly pulling your panties down your thighs. He sees you laid bare before him, your inner thighs moist with desire, the curls on your mound dewy with want. "God damn.. you're so beautiful.. I wanna taste you.." he groans, pressing a heated kiss against the sensitive skin just beneath your hipbone.

You sigh at his kiss, his beard pleasantly scratching your skin. "Yes.. please.."

Joel's tongue flicks out to taste the heated flesh between your thighs, groaning softly at the flavor of you on his tongue before he begins to lick through your slick, puffy folds. He smiles as you gasp, your eyes wide and mouth parted in an O. "Joel!" you moan, panting as his tongue explores you. When he said he wanted to taste you, you assumed he meant more kissing. You hadn't expected this, hadn't known this was possible. Your fingers fist in his hair as he continues. He groans against you, the sound vibrating deliciously against your cunt. "Taste so sweet,.. like heaven.. my sweet girl.." he whispers between long, languid licks, his arms wrapping around your trembling thighs, holding you open for him as he feasts. His tongue flicks and dances over your clit, swirling and teasing, wanting to learn every inch of you, what makes you scream and what makes you whimper, getting drunk on your taste like a thirsty man lost in the desert.

Your hips arch up to meet each lick, each worshiping swipe as his pace becomes more insistent, following the sound of your moans and sighs, feeling the shivering in your body, his tongue flicking and circling in a hungry rhythm, determined to bring you to the brink.

Your thighs start to quake but he expertly keeps them spread open, feasting on you. "God! Joel, I'm coming!" Pleasure uncoils from the very center of you, radiating outward, controlling every other sense and thought. His hands grip your shaking thighs, lapping up all your sweet nectar. "That's it, darlin', let go for me.. I got you.." he whispers. He gently eases you through your orgasm, tongue slowing, savoring every drop he can. "God damn, sweetheart.. you taste so damn good.. you doing okay?"

"Yes," you pant, a light sheen of sweat forming on your skin. "Oh, Joel," you moan, bringing him to you for a kiss and tasting your flavor on his lips and tongue. He rises, crawling up your body until his weight is draped over you, his arms caging you in as you kiss, sharing your taste with you. He gazes down at you, the way you trust him implicitly ignites a mix of feelings: a raging, possessive need, a deep sense of responsibility, and a swelling of unbridled affection and adoration. He lifts a hand to gently caress your cheek, his thumb tracing soft patterns against your skin. You can see his heart and soul bared to you in that simple touch. Your skin is flushed, hair mussed, eyes bright. You've never looked more beautiful.

Joel shifts his weight, pressing closer against you, the pressure of his hard length against your hip undeniable as your eyes meet. You take him gently into your hands, grasping and feeling him. He groans at the softness of your hands wrapping around his arousal, eyes glazing over with pleasure. "God.. I want you.. need to feel you around me, sweetheart.."

You sense now that you have the power. Slowly you run your hands over his rigid cock, swiping your thumb across the tip, wiping away a bead of moisture. "Is it going to fit?" you ask, feeling the heft of it, both length and girth.

A guttural groan rumbles from his chest and his head bows down to bury his face against your neck. "It'll fit, sugar, I promise. Just take your time."

Your heart skips a beat. This is the ultimate thing that can bring you together, and will forever change what you mean to each other. "I'm ready for you.."

Joel's hands gently grip your thighs, guiding you to move and open further as he positions himself between your legs, the head of his cock resting against your entrance. His heart pounds as he looks down at you. "You sure, darlin'? I promise I'll go slow."

"I'm sure. I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Okay, just tell me if you need me to stop. I don't wanna hurt you." He presses to you a little more, eager to fill you but waiting on your word.

"Kiss me," you whisper.

He pours all his love and need into the kiss, swallowing your gasp as he presses forward, his thick cockhead just barely breaching you, his groan joining with yours at the feel of your tight heat around him. You break the kiss, resting your hands on his shoulders as he enters you, a little at a time. His fingers dig into your thighs, his expression a cross between pleasure and concern as he pauses, giving you a chance to adjust to him. "How is that, sweetheart? Am I hurtin' you at all?"

"Wait." You press your hands to his chest. "Wait a little bit," you pant, forcing yourself to relax around him in order to accommodate him.

Joel nods. "Take your time, sweetheart. I ain't goin' anywhere." He stills himself, using every inch of willpower in his possession, "Just breathe, darlin', you're doin' so good," he coos. "You feel so damn good... touch yourself, darlin'," he growls.

Your breath falters as you acquiesce, fingers flitting lightly over your distended clit, adding pressure, circling the cluster of nerve endings, making yourself wetter, letting him slide in a little bit more. Joel fights to maintain his control. "Fuck, you feel so good, so tight."

Despite his willingness to take it slow, your hormones are asking for something else. "Take what's yours," you whisper. "I want you to."

A deep groan rips loose from his chest at your words, the sound thick with need and desire, his control fraying at the thought of claiming you with a hard and deep thrust. "Take a deep breath, darlin'." He takes your hand, lacing your fingers together, his grip reassuring. "I love you, my sweet girl, my sunshine.." He pulls out slightly, his body tensing as he prepares, and his eyes lock with yours as he thrusts forward, hard and deep. You cry out in surprise and pain, which is little more than a brief shock before you become acclimated, leaving you with a lingering dull throb.

"Hey, shh, it's okay, it's okay darlin', breathe for me. You did so good, you took me all, such a good girl," comes Joel's praise as he cups your cheek with one hand and stroking your belly, easing the pressure there from his length taking up room so deep inside you. When you inadvertently squeeze around him, stretching to fit him, it sends a shock of pleasure spiraling through him. "Damn.. if you keep squeezin' me like that I ain't gonna last long, darlin'," he warns. He takes a deep breath, slowly pulling out, savoring the drag of it, before slowly pushing back in, starting a gentle, deliberate rhythm. "You're perfect, sugar."

Soon the friction begins to cancel out the dull ache, more so with each thrust. "Feels good," you sigh.

Joel's eyes flutter closed, his rhythm remaining slow and gentle, the feel of you surrounding him, the feel of being buried inside your warmth as the most perfect sort of pleasure, his breath coming in short pants. "Sweetheart.. oh sweetheart.. oh god.. damn you feel so right, like you were made for me."

"You were right," you smile, "you do fit."

"Yeah darlin', I'm right where I'm meant to be, buried so deep inside my sweet girl." He keeps moving against you, spine tingling with delight as he feels you moving with him, naturally, your bodies in sync with one another. "Yes, just like that.. move with me, sweetheart."

Your brows furrow in pleasure, heart swelling at his praise. "Joel.. give me more.."

He groans, his eyes darkening as his pace quickens, hips rolling forward with a little more determination, the sounds of your flesh slapping together filling the air. "Like this, sugar?"

"Yes! Fuck!" you groan, lightning filling your veins as you move quicker together. Your words shoot straight to his soul, heat pooling and coiling in his gut. "God, Joel, I'm so close!" you whimper. His breath comes in sharp pants as he drives you closer to the edge, his rhythm growing rougher, less controlled. "Me too, sugar. I'm right there with you.. wanna feel you come around me, wanna hear you say my name. Say it, darlin', come for me and say my name."

"God!!" Eyes scrunched tight you let go, coming hard as your cunt clenches around him, fluttering hard and fast. "Oh!! Joel!!" you scream. Joel's pushed over the edge, giving a few jerky thrusts before you feel him twitching and pulsing inside you, filling you with his cum, his thighs shaking from the force of his pleasure. "Oh, fuuuucckk," he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, heart pounding wildly.

You feel his heart racing next to yours, almost as if beating with the same cadence, both of you trembling, spent, satisfied. He raises himself on his arms to look down at you. "You're so damn gorgeous, you know that? Especially when you're all breathless and flushed, still quakin' from comin' so hard."

Despite the breathtaking passion you'd just shared, you still blush. "Came hard thanks to you," you give him a soft kiss.

Joel grins, a cocky, proud smirk tugging at his lips, feeling a warm glow in his chest. He gently brushes back a strand of your hair. "How you feelin', sugar?"

"A little sore," you admit. "But I think, considering what we're working with, a little pressure was to be expected," you smirk, still feeling him inside you.

He chuckles, the sound of it making your heart thrum, as he slowly pulls out, knowing your still sensitive. "You took me like a goddamn champ, sweetheart."

You whimper at the loss of him, feeling his cum dribble out of you, and your eyes light up at his praise. "Really?"

"Really." He gazes down at you, his eyes a mixture of speculation and resourcefulness. "You wanna come with me to New Mexico, darlin'?"

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

[yoditopascal]

Or Nah

MINORS DNI 18+ ‼️

jason todd 100% loves to fuck to music.

he tries to focus on the lyrics, the beat of the song, tries his hardest to focus on anything but you to make this last longer but fuck, you’re squeezing him so tight and you sound so fucking good.

he buries his face into your neck and licks against your skin as he tries to stay hitting it on beat, promising you’re gonna feel oh so good when he's through with you “fuck mama.. so fuckin’ good to me .” he speeds up his pace a little as he gets closer faltering on tempo just a bit to let you know he's getting close

he’s so fucking big, and he's moving like he’ll die again if he can't get you to come first. he starts mumbling filthy nothings pathetically into you ear as he lazily drags a hand down your plush stomach to rub tight circles into your clit

you don’t even know when you both started cumming, him filling you hard and deep as he's painting your walls hot and white, but you know you didn't want it to stop.

a chill runs down your spine when you feel him exhale a strangled breath, your combined fluids leaking out of you as you both come down from your high leaving a milky ring around the base of his cock, so caught up in the euphoria of it all that he forgot to pull out.

there's a different song playing now and the thought of fucking you to it has his dick twitching inside of you all over again

a/n: i wrote this instead of doing my math hw

[dmitriene]

cw: poorly described virginity, simon likes staning pure things, kidnapping.

outlaw!simon riley meeting you as nothing but a pretty waitress at a saloon, standing out among the dimly lit vast room in that you did not look like anyone from the crowd, only an indiscriminate mess of men around you, drunken workers, alcoholics, loudly screaming lovers of starting a conflict, and just someone hiding with a cheap prostitute, cheating on his wife behind the walls of home abode.

simon sees it's like some cruel joke alive, you look like you've just just run away from your daddy's cozy, rich home, or from the convent boarding house like a typical good girl, too bloody clean for this place, and maybe that's why he's enveloped in incomprehensible emotions, clouding his mind with thick wisps of smoke as he moves through the roaring crowd to the farthest table, hiding not only behind the scarlet mask on his face, but also in the murkiness of an unlit corner.

you're not walking around the room, you're sliding, a long dress fluttering at your ankles, open by light shoes with a small heel tapping on the parquet, to the beat of softly played music on the piano nearby, allowing you to occasionally wag your rounded hips under the many skirts of your dress, not paying much attention to the visitors' gliding glances at your bouncing cleavage, but you feel a burning gaze on the back of your neck, until you free your hands from the freshly placed orders, and finally notice a new visitor.

simon catches your gaze on him, his pale eyelashes barely visible in the darkness that envelops him as if in a kinship embrace, so you don't see how his oppressive gaze focuses on the curves of your body, dark irises dilate to swallow the perilous blackness of his lazily hooded eyes, swirling deep with something unsettling, yet you are too pure to notice the clinging, engrained filth on his hands and the meaningfulness of his gaze, smiling greetably like a ray of morning sunshine, closing the distance between you and his table to take an order.

he orders a whiskey, cocks his head aside to lick his eyes up from your toes to your head, and you just pull on a bigger smile and nod obediently, not a word about his rough tone of voice, about the absence of a nice plea for you to bring him some, you go to the counter with your toes turned around and take one of the many brown bottles to fill a nice, clean faceted glass, pouring three fingers of alcohol that smells clearly of vanilla and spice, melting onto the leather and tobacco that penetrates simon's nose as soon as you come back and put the glass next to his gloved hand with a thud.

you peer cautiously through your wispy eyelashes when he hoists the black fabric with skull jaw up, bunching it beneath the edge of the crimson, as well skull shaped mask to take a sip from the glass, and you look at his thin chapped lips that he moistens with tart alcohol, the opened curve of his neck where the mask no longer touches the high collar of his dark shirt, adorned with a gold trinket engraved with a scorpion, and when his lips suddenly stretch in a toothy grin, creasing his eyes that now gleam with amber glows, you almost shriek and turn around, feeling your cheeks warm up.

and simon is not a good man at all, maybe as good as an outlaw can be, but it's nothing compared to your pureness, an innocent glint in your shyly running eyes, clean hands that easily wipe the dirt picked up from visitors on a small, light apron on your waist, and more than once he spoiled things that seemed beautiful to someone, just as he has long lost all shame and sympathy for such things, besides, looking at your reaction, he is quite sure that you yourself would not refuse to end dirtied up, by him.

with your curious glances, the fiddle of your fingers that tremble at contact with his own, not like with everyone else, as he brushes his whole palm against your hand on purpose while crooning about how unsuitable you look around there, and he can't blame himself for the longing want of bending you right here when you giggle, a little ringing sound that provokes him to squeeze his knees under the table because his empty glass is in your hand, and his suddenly aching cock makes his trousers too tight.

it's night behind the wide glass windows at the entrance when people begin to disperse, and the saloon seems to shrink when it's just the two of you, he's still at the rounded, wooden table, and you're knocking empty bottles behind the counter, putting them in a wooden box to return to the storage room, noticing simon's figure behind you not immediately, only when he runs his hand along the curve of your waist and to the dip of your hip, snuggling almost close to your ass, and you shudder barely perceptibly when he hoarsely offers to help.

you don't act surprised or either hard to get when he slaps the wooden door of storage room behind you two, twisting the key and sprawling two heavy hands at your hips, hurriedly turning you to face him before his lips descend against yours, lips open wide in knocked, whiny gasp, when he shoves his tongue in a wet, sloppy kiss between your slack lips, tugging you against him by snaking his hand behind you, pressing onto the small of your back, as he walks you towards the wall.

simon sees how you give him the reins, clumsily following the movement of his tongue in your mouth as he runs it over your teeth and curls the muscle around your own, ripping at his leather gloves that fly off towards the closer of the shelf, getting lost there when his bare, scarred arms bunch your skirts up and he hoists your body, making your legs loope around his waist, heels slipping off with a thud against the wooden floor, and when his touch rubs up your knees and swipes to your thighs, he almost howls at finding the pantaloons that are so uncomfortable to take off.

it's a loud rip of fabric that makes you gasp, sound swallowed by his hungry mouth, as his thick fingers find your puffy folds that drip off with saccharine wetness, making his digits tacky as he spreads your folds and toys at your peaking, neglected clit, as you kick your feet, head tilting back against the wall, making you retreat from the kiss with a shy, whiny moan, and simon smugly sure you have an virgin little hole that drips just for him, wetting the short curls of your pubic hair.

you sweat when he unzips his trousers and let's his fat cock bob out, the veiny girth of him, twitching with oozing, pearly precum that dribbles down his uncut, rudy length makes you throb, and he feels it, fingers already buried in your stretching cunny that is gooey with your glossy juices, coating his digits in glistening sheen as he thrusts them in you, fisting along his leaky dick with other hand, lining up with your pulsing entrance just as he starts to slip his fingers out.

he reinvents you for himself, stretching your thin, silken walls around the meaty girt of his cock, letting you feel every inch that pistons slowly in and out of you, careful, not nearly enough so you won't feel the sting, yet you still moan prettily, each wet glide making you tighten with rapid pulse of your tight walls, snug around every vein that rubs against your gooey insides, the hold of his fingers are bruising at your thighs, staining them with your slick that were clinging to his fingertips, as you moan with strained, whiny mewls.

simon fills you up when you get too tight, starting to arch off the approaching feeling, making his hands glide from your thighs towards your round, plush hips, gripping onto them to grind his cock inside of you, thick cockhead slamming against your spongy little spot with small, deep circles, his eyes boring into the sight of your eyes rolling back, sparks erupting behind your eyelids with each canting movement of his hips, and you wail when his cock jerks and spills ropes of cum against your cervix.

your whole body spasms, the thin walls of your pussy that milk his cock, your legs that tighten around his waist, the painfully arched spine, as your head tilts aside, eyes glassy with eyelids growing heavy, simon's hands moving to support you behind your back, cradling your slowly limping body against his sturdy, clothed chest, as the other finds purchase at the back of your head, pressing your face into his shoulder, letting you breathe into lulling scent of smoke and leather that clings to him like from a bottle of whiskey.

simon's cock still carved in you, your pussy spasming, dripping his milky cum down onto the wooden floor, and there's a satisfied growl rumbling in his chest, the one that makes you nuzzle closer, huffing at his scent and curling your body, and he's never been one to believe in the rules of being obligated to marry a girl with which you've been fornicate, but there's no way in the whole west that he's gonna leave you in this saloon for anyone to have, after being marked by his seed.

not that you have anywhere to run when you wake up at the dawn of a new day, uncomfortably wet between your legs, rocked up and down, fluttering your eyes only to be meet with silent, empty outskirts of the wild west, while cradled against simon's chest, one of his hands holding the horse's rains, making the animal ride slowly, as he holds you close with the other, feeling easily the way you shift, his gaze snapping down at you with a leery twinkle, a crooning purr of “good morning, darlin'„ slipping from under his mask.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[rafey-baby]

hidden 4

cw: hostage/stockholm syndrome situation, outlaw!rafe being his usual self towards pogue!reader, mentions of murder and violence, a surprise in the grocery store, smut: dub-con (!), fingering, p-in-v, unprotected sex, size kink

wc: 2.7k

it's here! hope u enjoy xx

(also this is probably the last part unless i get a crazy continuation idea cause i feel like it makes sense to end it here?) edit: there will be one more part!!

part 1 part 2 part 3 & part 5

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

“A picture provided by a passer-by has led us to believe that Rafe Cameron, a suspect for the murder of a police officer is still on the island and has possibly been in contact with the witness who now wants to withdraw his statement, not wanting to testify in court due to personal reasons. However, the investigation is still ongoing and Cameron remains the main suspect which means that if you have any information about his whereabouts please do not hesitate to—” 

Rafe twists the car radio off with a scoff.  

“The fuck they're gonna do with a blurry photo? Unless they find another witness or some actual proof, they don’t have shit on me,” he mutters more to himself than her as he yanks open the door and lets it slam closed; leaving her to scramble after his exasperated steps through the grocery store parking lot.  

She doesn’t know how Rafe managed to discover the name of the witness or why a few days ago she sat in his truck parked outside the poor guy’s home keeping watch, but at this point she’s decided that the universe simply must have something against her peace of mind.  

When she asked about his visit, he simply shrugged it off with a ’Don’t worry about it, s’all good. Just had a little talk with him’ which honestly made unease settle into the bottom of her stomach because it was most definitely not the entire truth.  

For the following days, she tried her very best to avoid his intimidating presence as to not give him a reason to get mad at her while he made several phone calls and took care of business. However, acting as if he wasn’t there wasn’t the easiest task since her house, despite the cozy atmosphere, isn’t very grand.  

Whenever she'd try to find sleep in her soft sheets, his heavy presence in the next room would send a shiver up her spine and erase any prospects of getting rest. And when she’d try to cook dinner, he’d be looming way too close for comfort and make her accidentally drop a pan on her kitchen floor. Therefore, she's not exactly feeling her best. 

As they step through the sliding doors, Rafe is hiding under black sunglasses and an old baseball cap he borrowed (stole) from her; trying to keep a low profile and appear as ordinary as any casual customer shopping for essentials since he’s practically emptied her fridge at this point. 

“Do you want red or green grapes?” She inquires as she peers down at the fruit. 

“Don't really give a shit. Just get both,” he grumbles out, seemingly all too aware of his surroundings; antsy to just get out of the store already. 

“That’s not very helpful,” she complains quietly as she decides on the green ones and pushes the shopping cart forward with Rafe close behind.  

And she’s all too preoccupied by picking out what she wants for breakfast when all of a sudden, he grabs her face in his big palms and presses his lips against hers.  

She lets out a surprised noise that gets swallowed up by him as he slots their mouths together while her entire body tenses up in response to him pushing her against the shelves that display different types of bagels. 

She’s momentarily disconcerted, doesn’t remember the last time she’s been kissed like this; all rough and inconsiderate. And maybe that’s why she’s beginning to feel light-headed; every coherent thought wiped away because him kissing her makes absolutely no sense. Therefore, she doesn’t even realize she’s reciprocating the kiss before her distracted mind stirs awake and soon enough, she’s pulling away with creased brows. 

“Rafe, what the—”  

However, she’s interrupted by the hollow of his hand plastering over her mouth.  

“Shut up,” he hisses lowly, eyes alarmed and shoulders tense.  

She’s about to protest before he nods towards a couple of officers a few feet away from them; apparently having just passed them. They’re strolling through the aisle leisurely, chatting freely and not paying them any mind because why would they do anything except roll their eyes at a lovey-dovey couple making out next to the organic whole wheat toast?  

Oh.  

She can’t believe she didn’t notice them; figuring that if she was the one running from the cops, she wouldn’t last a day. Before her brain has the chance to catch up and command her to scream for help though, she feels the barrel of his gun poking at her chest, forcing the desperate pleads to die out on her tongue.  

She stares into threatening larimar and blinks; too frightened to even inhale too loud. Neither of them move until the policemen have rounded the corner and leaving them the only people standing in the bread aisle.  

And he doesn’t think too much of the kiss, simply a means for him to stay under the radar but unfortunately her head turns into a blank piece of paper, not able to say a word until they’re walking the grass-covered steps to her threshold.  

“Why would you do that?” She’s fuming as he locks the front door. 

“Was just tryin’ not to blow my cover, calm down,” he grumbles out and sets down the grocery bags.  

“By kissing me?” She snaps in exasperation.  

“Yeah, well there wasn’t exactly time to think about anything else,” he seems so nonchalant about all this, as if he doesn’t care one bit. She figures he doesn’t because it seems that for him it’s the most tedious thing in the world to consider other people’s feelings for one second.  

Maybe she didn’t want him to kiss her, of all things. Didn’t want him to make the muddy thoughts brewing beneath the surface of her sanity any louder than they already were. Because despite how hard she’s trying to convince herself that him shoving her around and walking around her house as if he owns it doesn’t affect her, it wouldn’t change the fact that something about his dominating presence is slowly but surely making her grow curious.  

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She drops her keys to the ceramic bowl in her hallway, walking towards the living room; wanting to put as much distance between them as possible in order to have some space to think.  

“I mean, it’s not like you seemed to mind too much, you did kiss me back,” he points out as heavy footsteps follow her.  

“I was just…in shock, okay?” She turns around and her voice is loud, tone frustrated. 

“Don’t fucking raise your voice at me,” he warns her, low and gravelly; making her shiver.  

“And if you were just in shock, then why are you blushing right now, hm?” He takes a step closer to inspect her, too close. 

“I’m— I’m not blushing,” she tries to deny. However, the cherry tint heating the apples of her cheeks gives her away.  

“You’re a shit liar, you know that?” He chuckles, amused. “Bet you liked me kissing you, hm? Just being too much of a stubborn Pogue to admit that.”  

Her dumbfounded eyes stare at him in silence because she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to say to that.  

“Usually not into whiny pups but should just fuck some sense into you so you’d wipe that stupid pout off your face, yeah?” He rasps out, looking at her with something devilish glimmering in the aquamarine of his eyes.  

“You’re a fucking psycho!” The accusation escapes past her lips before she has the chance to think about it.  

And at that, he harshly grabs her jaw between rough fingertips; mushing her cheeks together and making her teeth bite into the gummy walls of her mouth.  

“What did you just call me?”  

She realizes her mistake too late.  

“Didn’t— didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” her frightened eyes are wide.  

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” He dryly laughs in her face, finding entertainment in her torment.  

“Yes, I don’t know why I—”  

“You gon’ make it up to me?” He asks as he feigns contemplation.  

“What?” 

“Cause I think this fucking psycho ordering you around like a puppy gets you wet, huh? You don’t think I’ve seen the way you look at me?” He lets go of her jaw, tall frame towering over her. 

“I don’t…what are you—” she’s unable to move, trepidation creeping up her spine along with an odd form of intrigue that makes her respiration grow arduous because he’s not exactly wrong.  

“Should we check?” He raises his brows. 

“What— what are you doing?” She tries to take a hesitant step back, albeit uselessly; her back thumping against the wall when he corners her into it. 

“That’s not a no,” he tilts his head at her, mocking her. And then he’s pushing his hand into her pants, past the waistband of her panties and feeling her out; fingertips finding the stickiness already present.   

She gasps, surprised by the sudden pressure against her attention-starved cunt.  

“Huh, look at that. Should’ve known you were a horny fucking girl when I first saw those stupid fake scared eyes, talking ’bout some ’Rafe I’m sorry please don’t hurt me I’ll do anything’ shit,” he raises his pitch to an overly extreme girlish squeak, meant to patronize her, yet somehow, it’s turning her on even more.  

“Bet you’d like that though, if I’d hurt you? Rough you up a little, hm?” His heady breaths tickling her lips is kindling a blaze deep in her tummy; arousing something novel, strange, unfamiliar. 

“Rafe…” she manages out since her head is spinning.  

“That’s right. Say my fucking name,” he’s chuckling as a digit slips down to prod at her opening and slowly pushing in; causing a faint whimper to leave the gaps of her teeth. 

“So fucking tight. Been a while, huh? Not gon’ lie been a while for me too. With all this shit with the cops haven’t exactly had the time to get my cock wet, you know? At this point s’getting a bit frustrating, if I’m being honest,” he rumbles mindlessly, too lost in examining her reactions to his fingers playing with her cunt to care about what he’s saying.  

She doesn’t respond, doesn’t think she’s physically able to form any kind of words at the moment, let alone coherent sentences. His thumb rubbing lazy circles against her swollen clit leaves her dazed and she knows this is wrong, it’s so wrong yet she can’t deny how good it feels to have him touch her like this.  

“Now that I’m thinking about it, haven’t tried Pogue pussy before, wanna help with that?” His low drawl is nearly hypnotizing; her morals turning more and more hazy by the second and evaporating into the tension-filled air surrounding them.  

“Rafe…I don’t—” 

“You’re soaked. When’s the last time you got fucked good?” He interrupts her.  

“I don’t...remember,” she mumbles out.  

“Don’t remember? Shit, Puppy,” there’s a condescending lilt to his pity and she whines when he drags his finger out and nudges it back in again.  

“The guy I was with wasn’t, um, the best so…didn’t really wanna do it again and stuff,” she timidly admits.  

“You’re letting a guy who can’t make you come between your legs? Such a shame. But not really a surprise those Pogue boys don’t know how to fuck. I mean, no wonder you’re so wound up,” the edges of his mouth curl.  

“I’ll take care of it though, make you feel so good, yeah?” His breathy promises try to coax her to give in. 

“Rafe, I don’t know…”  

“Listen, I’m just saying, probably gon’ be here for some time until everything settles and gotta kill the time somehow, no?”  

“But this is wrong, you— you threatened to kill me,” she reminds him and herself with the remnants of her determination.  

“Yeah, yeah, that wasn’t very…nice, but don’t be acting like you don’t want this. All I’m saying here is, you’re the one dripping down my hand right now and really, I’d be doing you a favor,” his crooked logic goes unnoticed by her as she slowly blinks up at him. 

“We really shouldn’t—” she’s interrupted by another digit squeezing into her achy cunt, making her moan out at the sudden stretch. 

“Don’t worry your little head over what we should and shouldn’t do, alright? If you’re worried what your pathetic Pogue friends might think, I don’t kiss and tell. Can be our little secret, yeah?” He grins down at her. 

“Rafe, I don’t think we should…” she tries again. 

“Shh. What did I just tell you, hm?” He hushes her with the expanse of his palm pressing against her clit making her suppress another whimper.  

“Promise to go slow?” She asks without a clue as to why she’s not trying to prevent this.  

What’s wrong with her? She tries to convince herself that she’s only allowing for this to happen because maybe then she’ll finally get him out of her system. 

“Of course,” his conformation doesn’t sound all too veracious when something hungry glints in his eyes.  

“You gon’ let a Kook show you what you’re missing, hm?” He rumbles before he’s pushing her onto the couch and following soon after; mouth sloppy as it molds over her own and tongue warm when it intrudes her mouth. Quick fingers toy with his belt until he’s tugging the zipper of his pants down and making her eyes flicker down when he takes himself out. 

“You’re so big,” her rounded eyes ogle at his cock, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip when she notices how it twitches in his hand in response to her words.  

“Shit, you think it’ll fit?” He wonders out loud, grabbing her hips and dragging her closer with strong arms. 

“I don’t know…” she trails off when he pulls down her shorts by the belt loops before the drippy tip is nudging at her entrance. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit,” he murmurs and then he’s tucking himself right into her weepy cunt.  

She cries out at the overwhelming stretch as she tries to accommodate to his size; thankful he’s not pushing all the way in yet because she already feels so full she’s not sure how she’s supposed to take any more of him.  

“Fuck, you really are a tight little thing, huh?” He grunts out.  

“Relax, yeah?” He coaxes before his mouth meets her neck; pasting wet kisses and letting the flat of his tongue lave over the sensitive skin there.  

He moves lower as his fingers pluck at the straps of her flimsy top before letting her tits out and taking a puffy nipple between his lips. They moan in tandem when his left hand reaches for the other, trying to loosen her up by pinching it between a thumb and an index finger. 

“Rafe…” 

“What? You want more? I’ll give you more, alright?” There’s almost a primal urge in the way he pushes in deeper; forcing a loud noise to tumble from the back of her throat when he begins to fill her up to the hilt. 

“There you go, taking it like a good fucking puppy, yeah?” He groans against her neck when her nails sink into his back muscles, scratching downwards and surely leaving marks.  

Then he’s flipping her over onto her stomach with one swift movement, pushing all the way in once more; fitting snugly inside as her walls flutter around him. 

She cries out at the new angle his cock is now poking at her insides as he shoves her face into the couch cushions with each jostle of his hips against her. And he’s not gentle, she’s not even sure he knows what the word means as he keeps stuffing her full over and over again; making her see stars when she can almost feel her orgasm on the tips of her fingers.  

“Such a filthy slut, aren’t ya? Letting a complete stranger fuck you like this in your own house?” A low chuckle rumbles from his chest as he keeps nudging at the spongy spot inside her; her loud moans echoing around the room and she feels so good she thinks she’s gonna pass out. 

“Should stay here for longer, yeah? Just fuck this tight little cunt whenever I get bored, hm?” He pants, mouthing at her neck as his thrusts begin to grow lazy. 

And she has half the mind to agree. 

[oceantornadoo]

part three outlaw!simon x f!reader who was supposed to marry johnny 🥲

simon is about to cause a scandal and get you kicked out of this town on account of adultery.

you told him he could visit you on your saloon shift, see what the town’s like. what you did not tell him is that everyone thinks you have a fine upstanding citizen for a husband, not an outlaw covered in black head-to-toe. he’s been nursing a whiskey for the past hour, haunting the last barstool in a corner, angled perfectly with his back to the wall.

he touches you everytime you pass him. a guiding hand on your waist when you saunter by with a tray of drinks. tucking your hair back into your updo as you become increasingly frazzled with a busy saturday night. even tightening the ties of your apron one time while you were talking to a customer, their eyes bugging out at the sight.

it would be fine if the public knew he was your husband - but johnny’s ring lays tucked into your nightstand and on account of simon’s gloves, you look like a cheater. an adulteress, committing sin in an already sinful establishment. you can see the church ladies signing the cross, see your neighbors muttering under their breath. it all comes to a head when the town rake decides to engage this shadowy figure of confusion that everyone is wondering about.

“does doin’ all that finally mean she’s out from her husband?” he introduced himself to simon, some forgettable name, and simon’s already wishing for the solitude of the mountains and grassy plains again. “wot?” the stranger’s so close simon can smell the liquor on his breath, can see the unsteadiness of his stature. he nods to you, taking orders in the corner of the saloon. “she’s not wearin’ her ring and your hands are on her, so that mean she’s outta that marriage? never even saw the man, guessed ‘e stepped out on ‘er.” simon couldn’t explain the situation to him, the stranger’s brain so stupidly drunk he couldn’t comprehend. so, the course of action was exactly that; action.

you were turning around, ready to holler at the singular cook in the saloon’s kitchen, when two meaty paws yanked into a body. you immediately resisted, too used to fighting the world at every turn, before you heard his voice. “just me, darlin’. settle down.” you hated how you immediately relaxed, shoulders drooping. simon yanked you into his side, eyes not on you but some man at the bar. “simon, you’re makin’ a scene.” he looked down at you, raising an eyebrow while the rest of his face moved under his bandana. “you’d rather a scandal?” so he did understand what was going on. you shook your head vehemently, intrigued at his next move. he unfurled one of your hands on his chest, the left one, turning it so the saloon could see your bare ring finger. the crowd suddenly silenced, understanding something important was happening.

simon’s gloved hand slipped into his pocket, drawing out a cloth bag. from it he brought out a ring, something with a pretty diamond and a vintage look. you gasped at the sight, of the thought he was giving you a ring with history, not just one from the jeweler’s. gold was well known in the west, the lifeblood of new towns, but the design showed elegance and class, not just new money. he slipped it on your bare finger, pulling you in for a light kiss over his bandana. you couldn’t even reciprocate, too stunned at the publicity of his claim. you heard someone whoop and that was it, your crowd turning back to a better piece of gossip now that this was solved. “y’r not gettin’ pushed out of town on my account, love.” you nodded wordlessly, eyes darting to the heavy weight on your hand. “go’on and get me another whiskey, hm?” he sent you to the bar-top with a pat on the ass, and that was that.

—

a little fluff for yall

this is my outlaw simon in a song.

taglist (lmk if i forgot you or you want to be added!):

@chickennn-soupp

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