#you can't tell if she's flirting with you or the gun | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

not-rigel · 3 months ago

Text

Admit Defeat

warnings: smut, facesitting, fingering, bottom! sevika (if you squint), lots of flirting, y'all are in love, sub! sevika (if you squint), yearning, lesbians being lesbians

work count: 4k

You don't remember who made the first move. You don't know what you had done to get Sevika to return your feelings. At some point, the two of you switched from only speaking in work-appropriate conversations to constantly flirting. The switch was far from gradual, a near overnight shift in dynamic. For weeks, Sevika has been laying the charm on thick and you've been returning the banter.

Tonight was no different. The two of you inside the near empty Last Drop, chatting over a game of billiards. Billiards isn't yours or Sevika's typical game but watching her bend over the table was too tempting a sight to pass up.

“I ever tell you about the time I almost bled out?” Sevika says, chalking up her cue.

“Just one time? That's a little boring, Sevika,” you tease.

“I'd have to be stabbed to be bleeding, and you know how often that happens.”

The answer was seldom. Sevika got into plenty of fights, but most ended with her mechanical claws in her opponent's gut. Never the other way around.

“Go on. Tell me,” you urge. She finishes chalking her cue and sets it down on the edge of the table. Your eyes follow her as she walks around the table, searching for her shot. She studies the eleven ball, considering the difficulty.

“Eleven, back left pocket,” she calls. She bends down to line up the shot. But instead of taking it, she begins her story.

“I was at the harbor, the smaller one, on personal business-”

“You were gambling,” you interrupted, leaning your weight to rest your hip onto the table. You watch Sevika's eyes follow your movement.

Sevika shakes her head, “It was for personal business. Needed new plating for my arm, one that can withstand higher temperatures. I heard from a trusted source-”

“At the brothel,” you interrupted again. She still hasn't taken the shot. Still bent over the table, cue lined to hit but her arm hasn't drawn back yet.

Sevika laughs at your correction, “I heard at the brothel that someone was looking to trade down at the harbor. I went down there with an alright gun. Wanted to be rid of it anyway. I get there looking for the guy and I find he's got four other people with him, fucking bruisers by the looks of it.”

Sevika takes a break in her story to finally take her shot, the eleven ball gliding across the felt and into the pocket she called prior. She stands, walking over to where you're leaning against the table. She smirks as she draws closer to you, stopping just close enough for you to feel her body heat. You look up at her, gaze dropping to her lips for a moment before moving back up to her eyes.

“It's your turn again,” you tell her. You tilt your head toward the table, not breaking eye contact.

“You're standing in front of my shot.”

“My bad,” you playfully shrug, taking a large enough step back. Sevika immediately fills the space, stepping even closer to you than she was before. Another centimeter and your chests would be touching.

Up this close, you'd have to crane your neck to make eye contact. But since you can't find it in you to look away from her lips, you don't have to look as far up. Her tongue creeps from her parted lips and wets her bottom lip, surely to tease you.

“As I was saying,” Sevika continues, aware you're watching each word, “I don't pay attention to the other guys, figured if I didn't treat them like a threat they weren't gonna fuck with me. And it worked for the most part. I get through the trade with my guy, no issues. I'm thinking it's over so I shake his hand, close the deal and wait for him and his goons to leave, cause I'm not gonna turn my back on them.”

You nod, trying to follow along with her story but your attention is divided between how her lips quirk up into a smirk every other sentence. You loved this side of Sevika, the side that can't stop talking. The side that loves sharing her time with other people. The side that is heartfelt and open.

“You still listening?” She says, pulling your thoughts away from her mouth and secret softness.

“Just skip to the good part,” you huff. You're not impatient and you could listen, and watch, her talk for hours. But the attraction between the two of you was a few degrees warmer tonight. You can't afford to overheat, especially since you work together.

“Right. The good part. They think I'm looking for a fight so they jump me. I handled them fine enough, taking a few punches. Was focused on keeping them off of me. One of ‘em came charging at me with a knife, no fucking clue where he got it from, and aims right at my ribs. I wasn't really thinking, I just pushed his arm down. Fucking slashed my thigh open,” she continued. She bent over the table again and this time you could see her back muscles ripple underneath her shirt.

You shift your hips slightly, so they brush against her side.

“Can I see?” You ask.

She stood up without taking her shot, taking a step to trap you between herself and the table, “I'd have to take off my pants.”

“Sounds good to me.”

She chuckles, “Thought you'd let me kiss you before trying to get me undressed.”

This was the moment one of you would usually chicken out, coughing up a practiced excuse. But tonight was different. Seizing a confidence you've never held in your life before, you close the little distance there is between you.

“Kiss me, then take your pants off.”

“Thank fuck,” she sighs.

She reaches her right hand out, cupping your cheek and guides you to her mouth. There is a moment of hesitation from her, when your lips are a hair away. A chance for you to withdraw. But you won't take it. You push up on your tiptoes, smashing your lips into hers.

Sevika hasn't felt genuine attraction like this in years. Her body feels like it moves on its own accord. Doing the opposite of what she usually does in situations like these. Fingers tracing over skin instead gripping. Tongue feeling the softness of your lips instead of claiming. Heart beating wildly out of her chest instead of being steady.

Her chemtech arm holds you by your waist. Between her hips pressing into yours, the table behind you and her arm holding you up, you still feel like you'll melt right to the floor.

Needing more purchase, you wrap your arms around her neck. Her hair tickles your fingertips and you need to feel more of the soft strands. When you tangle your fingers into her hair she shudders, her knees go weak and weight shifts to rest on you.

You take the time to kiss down her neck, feeling her breaths catch in her throat. Feeling her skin vibrate with her moans. When your lips press onto her pulse point you can feel her erratic heartbeat. It almost overwhelms you, how much she softens for you.

You're surprised when she guides your hands from her hair down to her breast. Without any hesitation, you fondle her breasts, thumbs rubbing over where you know her nipples are. She's letting out moans above you, the sounds deep and throaty.

She gasps out a ‘wait’ and you pull your hands and face away. After she catches her breath she asks if you want to go back to her place.

She's staring deep into your eyes and you regret having looked at her mouth so much tonight. She has the prettiest eyes you've even seen, the most enchanting shade of gray you've ever seen. Like a thundercloud full of heavy rain, her eyes always held back a rough storm. Usually she's unreadable, but right now you know exactly what she wants.

“Mine is probably closer,” you offer.

At that Sevika nods, muttering out a soft “Take me.”

You grab her hand and lead her out the Last Drop and in the direction of your apartment. It's far closer than Sevika's, hardly a five minute walk. Three minutes if you were really in a rush. You make it home in two and a half.

It's a simple studio apartment, small but well within your needs.

Once you step inside, she grabs you from underneath your ass, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around her torso. Your hands find their way into her hair, fingers dancing on her scalp. You needed her weak for you, and she was falling apart at the seams the more you touched her. She carries you over to the bed, hiding in the corner of your apartment. She sits down on your bed with you sitting on her lap.

Her hands grab at your shirt, shoving the offending fabric over your breasts until you break the kiss to pull your top over your head. You return to the kiss the moment your shirt is discarded behind you, pushing Sevika down into the mattress. She gasps into your mouth as her back thuds against the bed.

Her hands are flat against your lower back, inching downwards to slip her fingertips beneath the band of your pants. Sevika guides your hips to grind over hers. You rut your hips into her, no rhythm or pace set.

"You've got such a pretty face," you tell her. "You wouldn't want me to sit on it, would you?" It's something you've been waiting to experience, waiting for the right person. If there was anyone you wanted it with, without hesitation, it's Sevika.

"I've been waiting for you to say that for so fucking long," Sevika laughs. You laugh with her, finding humor is how long you've spent dancing around each other.

You roll off of her lap onto your back to shimmy off your pants and underwear. Within seconds, Sevika is sitting up to help you out of your clothes. You lift your hips and she pulls your pants and underwear down on one try.

Seeing you near fully naked, Sevika admires your body. Every curve is in its perfect place. Every scar is like fine details painted into your skin. Each blemish makes you more and more of a masterpiece. She always thought you were breathtaking but the word felt much more literal now. Breathing was wasted energy, anything other than pouring her full attention into admiring you was useless to her.

“Sevika… you're staring,” you said under your breath.

“I- I'm going to die tonight,” she sighs, leaning down to press kisses to your shoulder. She kisses your shoulder until she's grounded herself, no longer lost in passion boiling over in her head.

“I need you on my face. Now,” she says against your shoulder.

“Patience.”

“Fuck that. I need you. I can't wait anymore.”

She grabs your hips, flipping you over to straddle her waist. She unclasps your bra, pulling the straps off your shoulders.

“You're still dressed,” you gasped, trying to find an excuse to slow her down.

“We'll get to that later. Sit on my fucking face.” She grabs at your hips trying to pull you up and shimmy herself down. You admit defeat when she pouts.

You crawl up her body and place one knee to the left side of her head before swinging the other over her head. You don't sit down on her face yet, shifting your hips back to hover over her shoulders.

“Fuck, please sit on my face. I can't wait.” her hands grab your thighs, metal and flesh fingers alike digging into you.

You're ready to give yourself to her, but you're stopped by the look in her eyes. This time she's the one to take your breath away.

You reach down and stroke her cheek, “You're so pretty.”

Her hands loosen their grip on your hips, thumbs stroking your skin.

“You're beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful,” she whispered. The moment was so fragile but nothing could break how she felt for you.

You feel the need to say something in return but the only words that come to mind are about how you're falling for her. And you can't give yourself away just yet. So you shift your hips over her face. Before you take your seat, you notice that you've forgotten a step in your haste.

“Wait, we need a safe signal.”

“Like I'd fucking tap out,” she rasps, frustrated that you're so close but just out of reach.

“Still, we need one.”

“Fine. I'll tap you twice if I need you off. That work?”

“That works,” you nod, shifting your hips to position right over her mouth.

“Oh fuck, thank you.” She sighs before you lower your cunt onto her mouth.

She starts with kisses to your folds, breathing in your scent while she can still breathe. Her lips press kisses everywhere she can reach, mostly over your labia. Her nose nudges right beneath your clit and you drag your hips back to get her right where you need her. Nose now bumping against your clit, your thighs clench from the added simulation.

You can feel the tension, built up on months of pent up emotions, dissolving with each pass of her tongue. The tension melts down, collecting inside of you and waiting to be released. Her kisses become open-mouthed as your arousal coats her lips. You jerk your hips, moving your clit over her mouth. She licks around the bud, feeling it twitch and beg to be touched.

Looking down, you can see her eyes are closed, eyes rolled back behind her lips. Her tongue swipes over your clit and you nearly throw your head back to moan, but you can't tear your eyes away from her. She looks too beautiful beneath you. It makes you feel like you're doing more than taking your own pleasure. It makes you feel like you're not on top, you're on your throne. Your insides clench again as she flicks her tongue over your clit.

Sevika's hips squirm, trying to find some friction to calm the tension inside of her. Everything about you fuels how much she burns for you. She felt warm whenever you were around but with you filling her senses in this moment, she was close to combustion. She could distantly feel a liquid heat drip from her cunt. With each slow drip that leaked from her, her core coiled with excitement.

Channeling her yearning into eating you out, she works her tongue over your clit. When you start to shift your hips again, she flattens her tongue letting you move wherever you please.

You grab her by the hair, grinding onto her tongue to chase your orgasm. It's an orgasm you've been chasing everytime you've masterbated thinking about her. A fantasy that has been just out of reach, and even now it mocks you by running away.

“Sev, I'm so close,” you choked out.

You ride her tongue, desperation drowning out the aching in your muscles. Your thrusts are messy, but her tongue finds you each time. No matter where you move, Sevika is there.

Your orgasm is done with being chased. It meets you, just the way you always imagined it would. It breaks the laws of physics, making gravity cease to exist. Your entire body is weightless as you gasp and choke out Sevika's name. Your grip on her hair is the only thing tying you to this world.

When the world finally rights itself, gravity working as it should, you lift your weight off of her. Her hands pull your hips forward, setting your dripping hole over her mouth. There's so much more of you to be had and Sevika wasn't ready for the moment to end.

She laps at your opening, groaning with every bit of cum she licks away. Your taste is even sweeter now, or maybe it was psychological. Sevika wouldn't put it past her to think you taste better after coming. You did things to her that she couldn't explain.

She is pulled from her thoughts when you jerk your hips away and she detaches her lips. You swing a leg over her head and dismount inelegantly.

“Thank you,” she gasps after she catches her breath. When she no longer needs to gasp for air she takes a deep inhale through her nose, catching your lingering scent that coats her face.

She doesn't have enough time to react before you straddle her hips and push at her top. You're surprised by your surge of energy but you'd be damned if you didn't return the favor.

“Sev… Fucking strip for me,” you purr.

She moans your name, hands reaching up to hold your face and bring you down for a kiss. You dodge the kiss, needing her naked for you.

“Sevika, I want you. Please… you're too beautiful for me not to see.”

That makes her heart skip a beat. Sevika doesn't accept compliments but you said that word like it's the truth. So she believed you.

“Okay,” she nodded, her turn to admit defeat tonight.

You lift off her lap, moving to unbutton her pants. She lifts her hips and you pull down the waist band. Her pants take more force than you expected to pull over her ass but after a couple tries, they slide all the way down to her knees. She begins to kick her pants down to her ankles then toes them off.

“The scar is pretty obvious,” she says. You're confused for a moment then you remember why the two of you are in your bed in the first place. On her left thigh is a gash, a centimeter thick and 7 centimeters long. It was a deep cut, evident by how raised and pale the scar is.

“Shit, that's really fucking bad. How'd you survive?”

“Took two extra doses of shimmer. You'd be surprised by how life saving that shit can be.”

“Huh,” you shrug. She shifts her hips beneath you and you're back in the moment, forgetting her near death experience. Fuck the reason you finally got her into bed, you have her now and nothing else matters.

You are about to tug at her boxers when her chem tech arm reaches down and tears them apart with two tugs. You snort at her impatience. The amusement is soon gone when you see her cunt. Your imagination has failed you, she's prettier than any fantasy you've had. A trail of opaque, white cum leaking from her.

“You fucking came?” you asked.

“I can't control myself with you,” was the best explanation she could give.

“Oh fuck,” you curse. You bend down to press kisses to her torso, trailing down the valley of her muscles. You don't care that you don't have her top off. If you were going to get your way tonight, it will be coming off eventually. But right now you want to feel her.

You set your pace slow, kissing downwards to her thighs. She opens her legs, making space for you between them and you gladly take it.

“Sevika, what do you want?” You doubt you could do anything she wouldn't want but it never hurts to be sure.

Sevika stops to think for a moment. She imagined every single sexual scenario with you. So which one would she choose? A few crossed her mind but one made the coil of excitement return above the rest. The thought of your fingers, more slender and soft than hers, fucking her until she melts into nothing.

“Finger me,” she pleads. Sevika keeps surprising you, using a desperate tone that goes against her character.

“Oh shit, I'm going to fuck you so good,” you sighed.

You get comfortable on your knees, intending to stay there as long as you can. You trail your fingers over her thighs, tracing words into her skin. You can't tell her that you're falling so you write it out. On her left thigh, ‘I love you” is etched. On her right thigh, “Stay with me” is drawn.

“Stop tickling me, I need you inside me,” she whines. The sound almost kills you, her velvet voice whining for you to enter her.

You trace your right hand over her thigh and toward her cunt, teasing just a little more. She gasps when you insert your middle finger. Maybe you do too, with how good she feels. You knew she was wet but what makes you lightheaded is how warm she is.

Her whines no longer shock you, coming out of her with each slow stroke of your finger. Adding a second finger takes her moans up in pitch. Your fingers feel a thousand times better than she dreamed, non-calloused fingers pulling the coil inside her tighter.

“More,” she pants. You don't want to leave her word up for interpretation so you ask for clarification.

“More what? Another finger? Faster? Need me to rub your clit? Tell me,” you urged.

“Faster! Touch my clit!” she gasps out. Sweat begins to coat her forehead.

Your fingers pick up their speed, curling against her sweet spot. Without removing your fingers, you move over her right thigh, walking up on your knees before settling down.

In this position you lay at her side, face next to hers and arm reaching down to finger her. Your palm rubs over her clit with each thrust. You dip your head down to attach your lips. She sighs into your mouth, lips parting to let you control the kiss.

Everytime your lips meet, you find a new favorite way to kiss her. Now, you find you love biting her lip. She pants and moans into your mouth as her pussy squelches from your fingering. She sounds wetter with each thrust, your fingers gliding in with more and more ease.

“Please,” she pants, “I'll make a mess.”

It's your turn to groan into her mouth. That sentence was a threat and a promise. She shifts her hips nudging your fingers to the exact right spot.

You feel her orgasm wet your fingers as she whimpers out your name. Nothing could've prepared you for how magical making Sevika squirt for you would be. Her breaths huffed into your mouth. Her thighs clamped around your hand. Her pussy leaked all over your fingers.

After thirty seconds pass, her thighs unclench and you remove your hand. You bring it up to your lips but Sevika grabs your wrist before you can taste her.

“Can we… I want us… I want to be yours.” Sevika says when she catches her breath.

“As long as I can be yours.”

She guides your wrist to your mouth and you take your coated fingers into your mouth. Her taste bursts over your tongue, earthy and slightly salty. You lick your fingers clean and commit her taste to memory. Not that you would never taste her again, but it's something you need to remember. Any moment spent not tasting her will be torture from now on.

Sevika wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in to lay on her chest. You settle in, placing your head over her heart. The two of you hold each other, you're listening to her heartbeat steady itself.

“Sorry about your sheets,” you hear her say, words rumbling in her chest.

You sit up to inspect the damage. The image makes you laugh. Between her thighs is a little heart-shaped puddle.

“I lo-” you stop before the words come out, “I don't care. It'll wash out.”

You lay back down to cuddle her, “You came in a heart-shaped puddle, by the way.”

Sevika snorts, not surprised that her body was outing her feelings for you. She presses a kiss to your forehead, settling for gratefulness that she didn't chicken out tonight.

“Why did it take so long for us to do this?” you ask.

“I was afraid you'd figure out that I'm in love with you,” she says. She meant to hide the words but they found their way out. Sevika loves the way you soften her, how you break away all the walls to her heart without trying.

Your voice is a whisper when you speak, “Are you still scared?”

“I'm terrified.”

“Me too.”

“Scared?” Sevika tries to get you to clarify. She needs to know.

“No. In love with you.”

#sevika #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #i love sevika #sevika x female reader #im unsure if this can count as bottom sevika #pls eat this up y'all

855 notes · View notes

luveline · 1 year ago

Note

JADE!!! WE WOULD LOVE TO SEE ANOTHER SPENCER X BADASS GIRL!!! maybe its a quiet day and reader & spencer just chilling and joking around in their little world and the others just watching ahahah

thank you for your request babe, I would love to write more for this pairing if u have requests!! ♡ fem!reader

"What are they doing?" Emily asks, a fierce whisper that carries across the jet.

"I think they're flirting," JJ whispers back.

Hotch closes the case file in front of him. There's nothing left to do until they get home but sit here in each other's company. You and Spencer seem to have realised this before anybody else, shoulder to shoulder, a book in his hands. He's slouched with his leg crossed over his knee, taking up the majority of the couch. You seem content to take the brunt of his weight while giggling softly by his ear.

Hotch can't lie, he's genuinely startled by your behaviour. It's the total opposite of your usual affect.

"That's not flirting," Rossi says without looking up.

Hotch has to agree. You brush a stray hair from Spencer's shoulder and he doesn't so much as blush, turning the page to show you something particular. You lean in closer still, hand resting now on his shoulder.

That's not flirting, that's way beyond it. Spencer is practically in your lap, and you —wouldn't hug anyone on your birthday, didn't tell them where you were for four days when you had appendicitis until you were forced, cold, lone wolf you— look like you're about to cuddle him close and whisper sweet nothings in his ear.

You're in your own little world.

"I stopped expecting her to push him off twenty minutes ago," Derek says, as seemingly unbothered as Rossi.

"Don't tell me you knew about this," Emily says incredulously.

"They've been going on dates."

"They what?"

You laugh happily at Spencer's side, pointing at a specific line with the tip of your fingernail. "When asked, Moroscova said that the length of his stay was an act of perjury," you read.

Spencer laughs at your quotation, sharing a secret smile with you. "That haircut is an act of perjury."

Your eyes glow with a look Hotch knows well. Haley looked at him like that for years. "Thanks for reading this with me. I know I'm slow."

"You're not slow. I'm really fast. There's a difference."

It's the definition of young love, Hotch thinks, all those heartfelt reassurances disguised as brags, stolen touches, Spencer's knuckles stroking up and down your outer thigh.

He turns back to his book and you stare at the side of his face. It's a little heartbreaking. Hotch knows if things don't work out between you, you'll take it hard. Your affection for Spencer has always been in the silent things, undulating, until lately: you listen to him talk when nobody else has the patience, what must amass to hours and hours of stories and statistics; you defend him at every turn, in every precinct in every city; when Spencer has a hard time, you refuse to rest until he feels better. The case before this one, the unsub beat you across the face with the handle of his gun, and you leaned out of the ambulance with your eye glued shut to make sure Spencer got anaesthetic before his stitches. You look at him like he's hanging the moon in real time.

"Okay, that's too much," Derek says. Hotch detects a hint of brotherly affection in it, but mostly disgust.

You raise your gaze from Spencer's chest, the breezy smile playing on your lips flattening into a hard line. You send Derek your fiercest glare, him being the first in your line of sight, and Emily gets the shock of her life when you turn and narrow your eyes at her, too.

Emily smiles widely. "Hey, how's it going over there?" she asks.

"Why are you guys looking at me?" you ask.

"You can't guess?" Derek says.

"If I could guess, I wouldn't have asked."

Hotch gives you a disapproving look. Tone it down, Agent.

"I just wanna know what's so interesting," you say, leaning into indifference.

Spencer looks up from his book. "What?"

"Nothing," you say, your tone gentler in a capacity only profilers might notice. "Don't worry about it."

Spencer sits up and your eyebrows pinch down. Hotch wants to save it and he also doesn't get paid enough. Everything works out in the end, he thinks, not believing himself even slightly as he gets up to make a cup of coffee at the back of the jet. Your sullen tones hardly reach him through the curtain and over the sound of the hot water kettle, Spencer's puzzled reassuring even quieter.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

2K notes · View notes

gremlingottoosilly · 11 months ago

Note

Femcel!Reader X Loser!König

Being a non-kissed loser who honestly believes she would never get into a relationships because real men are simply scary and completely unlovable x a guy who thinks that talking about his best kills is a good dating flex. Match made in heaven. No, but seriously - you're intimidated by him at first, getting extremely scared at his awkward and forced attempts at flirting. He might be a bit too direct, especially with his gifts - you just started talking to each other, maybe even on the internet, and the guy already knew your address and sent expensive ass gifts so you could show them to him later...honestly, you're almost flattered. Spending your life believing that no one could ever love you, and then suddenly getting a boyfriend who cherishes your every word and wants to spend actual time with you...yeah, it makes a woman think. And it really makes you wonder exactly what you both can do for the relationships...which kinda results in you moving in almost instantly. You keep telling yourself to slow down - but Konig is just so nice, so cute, so fucking adorable. He steals your panties right in front of you, and you just slip on a new pair for him - something lacy and pink, something with little bows so he could play with it on his sniper missions. This man introduced you to a gun kink and you're not even ashamed to admit that you were fucked by his guns more than one time. Konig knows you're just perfect for him - you're cute, you're shy and reserved, you never had a guy swoon over you like this, and he fucking loves it. You can't even say that he is moving too fast, you're just as into him as he is into you - gods, didn't you just loved him and all of the attention he is giving you.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #loser!konig

606 notes · View notes

joels-shitty-puns · 1 year ago

Note

I'm gonna make a request again (sorry your last one was too good for me not to ask again) but this time for a jealous Joel! Maybe the reader and him have been friends for a while and she's oblivious to his flirting and she finally lands a date? How it goes from there can be up to you! I just love the jealous and possessive trope.

The Jealousy Bug

Pairing: Jealous!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Hi!! I'm so sorry this took me so long to write, but thank you for the request!! I hope you like it!! I got a lil carried away... hope its not too much smut.

~~~~~

(Reader and Joel live in Jackson, amid the apocalypse)

Word count: 6.8K (oof)

Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI!! Smut smut smut. P in V sex (likely unprotected but not specified. Its an apocalypse, yo.), masturbation (m and f), sort of dubcon? voyeurism?? sorta?, kissing, talk of genitals and arousal, horny behavior. Explicit language and mean names. Alcohol. Violence: infected, guns, punching, mention of a knife. Joel is kind of a jerk sometimes. Possessive. Mentions of loss and grief (all within S.1 of TLOU). I haven't played part II yet so we're just gonna ignore what we know happens there. Joel and Ellie are happy in Jackson. Joel and Reader are friends and sort of neighbors. Clueless idiots in love. A total asshole of a guy in the town. Lil bit of fluff/romance? Mention of bugs (pill bugs), but not in a gross way. If I missed anything, please let me know, and I apologize!

Other Stuff: Avoidance of reader descriptors, other than reader is AFAB. Mentions of having hair on the noggin. She/her pronouns. Reader is clueless and also clumsy as hell. Reader also drinks coffee and alcohol. Italics indicate thoughts.

__________

It was around 4PM when you filed into the community center for another mandatory patrol meeting. It may be an apocalypse, but even now, you wished this meeting could have been an email instead. Alas, that was a thing of the past, and you were unfortunately stuck listening to the usual spiel about necessary vs. unnecessary items to raid… The importance of remembering to ABC, “Always Be Cautious,” plants that can and can't be eaten, etc.

You sat in your usual spot, the back row next to Joel Miller. A year ago when you first moved to this town, first started patrol, you came into this very room not knowing anyone. Friend groups stuck together, each of the two front rows filled, yet a few empty spaces here and there. Instead, you walked towards the back of the room. A handsome man, who you soon learned was named Joel, sat by himself, three rows back, behind the last full aisle. He was alone. The whole aisle of chairs was empty. He sat with his arms crossed, and you could tell based on his posing that he was not the social type.

You were feeling a bit nervous, having finally found a sort of civilization in this mess, and hoping the people of Jackson accept you and not just shoot you, like most camps do when they see unknown faces. Unsure where to sit, you continued to head towards the back, slightly drawn to the gorgeous gray-haired man in the last row. Not wanting to intrude, you sat at the far end from Joel. You could feel his eyes on you as you sat, but you didn't dare look over and make eye contact. Years of survival instincts have told you that, especially when someone doesn't want to be bothered.

_____

When you first walked into the room, Joel looked up. He sat in the back row, as usual, not wanting to get close to anyone. However, even if he did, nobody gave him the time of day. They have heard stories of what he’s done, they have seen him around town, often grumbling about something. They could tell he wanted to be left alone and they had no interest in testing how badly he wanted to be left alone.

Joel found it easier to not form connections. Tommy kept telling him to make friends, come around more, socialize in the town. But Joel had learned over the years why making connections never ends well. All he has is Tommy and Ellie, and neither of those were his initial decision, but Tommy is his only family, and somehow he let himself care for Ellie.

But when Joel saw you… there was a flash of longing. He saw you smile gently at Tommy with a small wave. He could see you shrink walking to your seat past the cliques. You were beautiful, and if it were pre-pandemic, you'd be the exact type he'd probably take interest to.

But those days are over.

Or… so he thought.

He set his eyes back down on his hands in his lap, avoiding eye contact with you when you sat down at the end of the row from him.

Why did she sit so far away? Am I that horrible to be around? His heart questioned.

You don't want to be near people anyway. Good she sat far away. Leave me alone. His brain tried to argue.

Tommy droned on and on, the meeting nearing an hour by now, and you could feel Joel’s eyes on the side of your face every few minutes. You don't know why he kept staring, but it made you feel nervous. Did you have something on your face or clothes? Did you smell bad?

Tommy knew his brother well, sometimes more than Joel likes to admit out loud, and as he talked, he took note of Joel’s staring. At first his expression looked confused, maybe irritated or disgusted. Then it looked slightly… disappointed. But he kept stealing glances your direction, and so with a smirk, Tommy assigned the two of you to be on patrol together. Joel questioned his reasoning afterward, but he knew there was no point arguing with his brother.

After that day, you patrolled together. You both went to the bar with the group after meetings. You sat closer and closer to Joel. You managed to get some words out of him, and he listened to you chatter on. But it was when you brought him a cup of coffee before patrol one morning that he finally let down his guard. His heart had betrayed his defenses.

“What's this?” He asked, gruffly.

“Coffee, Joel…” you replied with a joking eye roll. “It's black. I know you don't like anything in it.”

He took a sip, shocked to taste that you actually knew how he took his coffee. “How did you know that?”

“I notice things Joel.” You patted his shoulder, walking towards the group.

_____

Now, a year later, the two of you were very close friends. You still surprised him with things you remembered or noticed, but much to his chagrin, the one thing you didn't pick up on were his advances. He'd call you pet names, be sweet to you, treat you like a gentleman, flirt a little, and it was like talking to a robot. You were clueless.

Tonight's meeting finally ended, the large group heading outside to the chill fall air. “You wanna get drinks with the patrol squad?” you asked Joel.

“Wouldn't miss it,” he winked at you, putting his leather jacket on his shoulders.

Although you went as a group, ultimately you and Joel spent most of the nights in your own little bubble, occasionally making space in your circle for Tommy, or Maria if she joined.

Tonight, the two of you sat at the bar, the patrol group spread throughout the room at different tables. Joel excused himself to use the restroom, and while he was gone, Jimmy, one of the other patrol members approached you. Hurrying before Joel returned, he flirted and asked you out on a date. You told him you'd think about it, that you weren't sure if you were ready for a relationship after years of caution.

Not technically a lie, you thought. Although you really just weren't ready for a relationship because your heart was already taken by your handsome best friend.

Joel returned just in time to see Jimmy walking away. “What did he want?” Joel grumbled. “Ah nothin, just wanted to say hi while getting a drink,” you lied. Joel accepted this answer and the two of you drank into the night. At the end of the evening, you seemed pretty drunk. Jimmy offered to walk you home, but before you had a chance to reply, Joel replied for you.

“I'll take her home, thanks.” He bit, turning you away from Jimmy. “I don't like the idea of that boy walkin’ you home. Don't trust ‘im. ‘Specially not when you're in this condition,” he wrapped an arm around you, shuffling you toward the door.

“You don't think I can handle myself, Joel?” You asked him, pulling away, a little bit irritated at him treating you like a weakling. “I seem to do just fine on patrol,” you argued.

“I know that, sugar. I didn't mean it like that. I just don't trust that guy. Heard how he goes through women. Don't want him trying’ anything with you,” he brushed his hand over your hair, causing you to soften at his words and actions.

You gasped lightly. “Is THE Joel Miller… jealous?” You knew he wasn't, but why not test the waters?

“What? Jealous? Of what? No ‘m not.” he balked. “Just lookin’ out for you…”

“Mmhm… you just wanna be the only big strong man walking me home, huh?” You teased, tripping over your own feet.

Joel caught you in his arms. “Big strong man, huh? ‘S that what you think of me?”

Shit… did I say that? You panicked. Maybe I'm more drunk than I thought…

Deciding to tease it off, you replied, “well you do always seem to catch me when I fall…” with a wink.

Falling in more ways than one… you thought, frustrated.

He rubbed his neck with the hand not holding you upright. You could almost see a pink tinge to his cheeks.

No, that has to be the lights playing tricks on my eyes… you thought. No way Joel Miller was blushing at your words.

“I kinda have to, ya big klutz. Practically a liability. I oughta tell Tommy to add a safety section on patrolling with you,” he bantered.

“Ah, shut up” you laughed with a push, causing yourself to lose balance instead of Joel. He just gave a knowing look, causing you both to laugh as you continued walking, now side by side instead of him holding you up.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke up. “You know, I could've walked myself home, Joel,” you stumbled, giggling.

“Whoa there, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around you again, propping you up. “Don't worry about it. Let's just get you home. You've had way too much to drink.”

“You're so sweet Joel,” you pouted at him, booping his nose. “Joelly Joel.” You giggled. “Jolly Joelly.” Another giggle. “I dunno why people think you're so grumpy. I think you're just a big teddy bear,” you closed your eyes, leaning your head on his shoulder while he stumbled forward, trying to keep you upright.

“Who says I'm grumpy, darlin’?” He tilted his head towards you, smirking. “The whole town, silly. Silly Joelly. Joely-poly.” You gasped abruptly, causing Joel to jerk and turn to face you. “What? What is it?” His hand reached for his knife on his hip. Old habits die hard.

“Joely-poly!!” You squealed. “Awe! Roly-polies. Remember those!? I used to love them when I was little.” You pouted. “Before this whole world went to shit.”

Joel thought back to the little pill bugs, playing in the dirt with them when he was younger. Teaching his own daughter about them. His heart aches for what he lost, but he also thinks of Ellie. He bets she would love the little bugs too.

“That's a cute nickname for you,” you smiled. “They're so cute. Just,” you booped his nose. “Like.” Boop. “You,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Another gasp from your lips.

He flinched again. “Darlin’, if you don't quit that I swear-”

“Joeeeel!” You pouted. “Do you think the roly-polies all died off with the infection!?” Your eyes welled up.

“Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. There's probably still some out there. Bugs could get cordyceps long before the fungus attacked humans, and they were still alive back then.” You looked up into his deep brown eyes through your fluttering lashes. “You really think so?” You leaned in, placing both your hands on his cheeks. His breath caught in his chest. “Darlin’, you drank a lot tonight-” you cut off his sentence, running your hands down his neck, resting your palms on his chest. His heart was beating a mile a minute. If he didn't know better, he'd worry his heart would leap out and fly away.

Your eyes lit up and you slid off his chest, lowering clumsily to the ground and gripping his sides for balance. You were now on your knees, eye level with his crotch, hands on his hips. His breath was ragged and his stomach full of twirling butterflies. “Wh-what do you think you're doin’?” He asked nervously. You looked up at him with big eyes, your hands slowly falling down from his hips to his thighs as you tried to balance yourself in your drunken state. He couldn't help but feel his pants begin to tent at the position you were in. He would never take advantage of you in your current state, but trying to ignore the desire brewing in his body after so many months of unrequited feelings was challenging. Did you finally see his advances for what they were? Feelings instead of friendliness?

You grinned up at him, finally regaining balance. “I'm gonna go look for ‘em!” you turned and waddled away on your knees, heading a couple feet away, towards a patch of flowers off the path.

She just needed to use me as a ladder, or what…? Joel thought to himself with a sigh and shaking his head in disappointment, his sexual frustration at its breaking point.

You crawled forward, falling onto your hands and knees in the soft dirt. Joel quickly stepped forward to try and grab you but realized, despite your lack of grace, you meant to do that. “Ugh… darlin', it's dark out here. It's cold. You're drunk. Let's get you home.”

“I'm looking for buggies, Joel!!” You leaned towards a leaf, arching downward so that your face was closer to the ground, ass up.

“Oh, have mercy…” Joel groaned under his breath, his eyes drifting downward. Your ass was up in the air, facing him, the fabric of your dress having fallen forward towards your front. Your light pink panties were on full display for Joel, leaving little to his imagination in this position. Joel subtly adjusted his pants, looking up to the sky and shaking his head in a silent plea.

You whined. “Joel, I don't see any.” You leaned farther forward, wiggling your butt somehow higher. Joel looked around, panicked at the thought that someone else might see you in this position. But luckily, you were close to your house and it was just the two of you out here. He turned back to you again. “I think it's time you get up and we go in-” you moved further forward, the streetlight shining above you and illuminating your ass. Joel tried to be a gentleman, but his eyes betrayed him. As he snuck another glance, he couldn't help but notice a little wet spot over the crotch of your panties. “In-inside…” he finished his sentence, words catching in his throat. He gulped, trying to divert his eyes.

Taking a shaky breath and stepping forward, trying to ignore the throbbing need in his pants, he lightly grabbed your arm. “It's time to go sweetheart. The bugs are sleepin’ I think.”

You looked at him and smiled mischievously. “I know, Joel,” you winked. Jumping up, you scampered towards your house, leaving Joel to wonder what the hell just happened.

“Woman's gonna be the death of me,” Joel muttered under his breath to himself. He caught up to you, just as you both approached your house. “Joel, I don't wanna go home. Can't I stay with you? And Ellie?” you batted your eyelashes at him. He rubbed his neck. “Ellie's with a friend tonight. But, you do have a point. You probably shouldn't be left by yourself in this state. Don't want you gettin’ hurt, or sick, and bein’ all alone.”

“Such a gentleman, Joel.” You touched his bicep, the two of you walking towards Joel's house across the street.

Hardly, he thought, grimacing at the reason he was aching in his trousers, feeling like an old creep, and a terrible excuse for a friend.

Once inside Joel's house, he gave you a baggy sleep shirt and a glass of water with some crackers to help with the alcohol. You changed, brushed your teeth with a spare toothbrush, and used the restroom. He let you have his bed, while he took the couch down the hall, scrunching his legs up to barely fit.

_____

Joel tried his hardest to ignore what he saw earlier and just go to bed, but the aching only continued, making it impossible to sleep. Sure that you must have fallen asleep by now, tucked away in his bed down the hall, he quietly reached into his pajama bottoms and boxers, pulling out his rock-hard penis. Even the mere touch of removing himself from his pants caused him to hiss, so worked up he could have cum just watching you bent over earlier.

He was a gentleman, but he was still a man, and one that hadn't been with a woman in a very long time. With as many people as he'd lost by one means or another, he'd told himself he wouldn't get close to anyone else. Sarah's mom. Sarah. Tess. Bill and Frank. Sam and Henry. He almost thought he had lost Tommy before Jackson, too. It was against his wishes that Ellie crawled her way into his heart, and then he almost lost her as well. He was beginning to think maybe it was him. He was cursed, doomed to have anyone he loved ripped away from him.

Which is why when you came to Jackson, he tried his best to ignore you. But you always greeted him, cheerful and sweet, like a little ball of sunshine that was somehow untarnished by the storm clouds of an apocalypse.

He was irritated to realize that he had made room in his heart for you. You caused an ache in his heart that yearned to be filled. A missing piece in his soul. A place for him to someday fit, tangled between sheets and loving words. It had been about a year since you moved to Jackson, and he still feared getting too close to you, yet he would try his hardest to woo you the way a gentleman should. Sweet nicknames, flirting, gentle touches. You never picked up on it. Whether or not you felt the same, he stupidly fell in love. Unsure if it was mutual, yet pretty sure it wasn't after all this time, he tried to ignore the dirty thoughts revolving around you when the late-night urges would hit him. Somehow it felt wrong.

But tonight, it was hard to avoid. Having you touch him. His face, his neck, his chest, his hips, his thighs. Kneeling eye level with his crotch. Slinking away, sticking your barely covered ass in the air, letting your wet panties be shown to him and only him. He couldn't get you out of his head as he stroked himself. First slowly, but then harder and faster, trying to reach his climax with the thought of him burying himself in that sweet spot underneath your wet underwear. How he longed to see you with his own eyes, begging for him.

He tried to be quiet, to keep himself hidden from you down the hall, but the noise of skin on skin grew slightly louder with each of his quiet moans and panting breaths that managed to slip from his lips. Imagining himself buried deep inside you, taking you from behind in the same position he saw you in earlier, imagining the tight grip around him and the slick noises he could only fantasize about. He could practically hear you moaning and sighing, the sound seeping from his subconscious to the living room. He pumped harder, swirling his thumb around the head, drooling with precum, as his climax grew closer. He could feel his strokes becoming less controlled and his balls pulling upward as he began to shoot load after load of white hot release up under his shirt onto his stomach. Stroking himself through it, he milked his last few ropes of cum out before laying back to catch his breath, slowly tucking himself back away in his pants.

Coming back to his senses, he realized the sounds of your moans and whimpers that he was imagining were still happening. Taken out of his fantasies when he finished, there was no reason for the sounds to still be in his head. Needing to grab a cloth from the linen closet down the hall anyway, he walked, nearing his bedroom door, and heard the unmistakable sound of you pleasuring yourself. Quietly, he padded down the hallway, closer to the door. He could tell you were trying to be quiet, but could still hear you, soft whimpers and pants, surrounded by wet schlick noises.

Fuck, he thought. He could feel himself already getting excited again, despite having just released a few minutes ago. He desperately wanted to join you in his bed, or at the least, stand by the door and listen to your sounds while pleasuring himself, but he wasn't going to be a creep, nor scare you to death. You were still his friend. Even if he did want to move the couch across the living room to hear you better.

_____

Meanwhile in Joel's room, you had tried to sleep. You really had. But tossing and turning, each roll causing your nose to be surrounded with his scent, you were thrown into a frenzy, like an animal in heat. Each smell of his cologne, shaving cream, deodorant, and natural body scent that you picked up from his bed sent a wave of arousal directly to your core. You wondered how many times he'd pleasured himself in this bed and how frequently. You wondered if he ever thought of you while doing it, imagining himself buried deep to the hilt inside of you, each drag of his cock more perfect than the last, much like you were imagining now.

You would be lying if you didn't say there were a lot of handsome men in Jackson. Granted, you had been without romance for a very long time, but still. Many of them were single, and some of them were very sweet and friendly. Yet for some strange reason, your heart had been drawn to Joel. The first moment you saw him, with his silvery curls and his grumpy face, his shining brown eyes and his patched beard, you were smitten. You were a bit disappointed that he seemed to be a massive grump, but despite what everyone said, he was always nice to you. Granted, you were always nice to him, so why should he be anything less, right?

He was always a total gentleman, calling you names like darlin’ and sweetheart, his southern drawl pulling you in like a lasso. His care for his unofficially-adopted daughter warmed your heart, and you could see he was a real family man from both their relationship, and the one he shared with his brother. It warmed your heart, especially when you befriended Tommy and Ellie, getting to hear them talk about Joel. Seeing the love they feel, even if they give him a hard time sometimes. You didn't see how people felt Joel was cruel or heartless, even with the stories you heard. Times were rough, and people did what they had to for survival.

You were always too chicken to make a move, and you figured he wouldn't be interested anyway. Surely him calling you those names and being sweet with you was just his Southern gentlemanly nature, right? You were nice to him, he was nice to you.

So tonight, when Jimmy, the local heartthrob in town, asked you on a date, you told him you'd think about it and let him know. Yeah, you claimed you weren't sure how you felt about relationships after all the world had become. Truth was, you wanted a last chance with Joel before throwing in the towel and settling for Jimmy.

Sure, Jimmy was handsome. Blonde hair, blue eyes, rugged, yet boyish. Several of the women in town had crushes on him, and he had had several of the women in town. You weren't clueless to the rumors about his playboy behavior. But it had been a while and well, you weren't getting any younger. It might be nice to have a partner, even if he did only want a short little fling.

So throwing back a few drinks, you decided you needed the liquid courage to finally make a move at Joel. One last effort to get his attention. You still didn't want to say anything to him, lest it ruin your current friendship that had grown so strong, but you could certainly use your body to entice a little. Drinking just enough to be brave, yet not so drunk that you were completely out of it, you gave an impression you were much drunker than you were, and needed Joel to help you out. Jimmy had almost been the one to walk you home, to your disappointment, before Joel stepped in, seeming slightly irritated about Jimmy's offer.

Yet after practically waving your ass in his face, showing him your panties (which you were sure looked wet), being inches from his crotch at knee height, and hanging on him all the way home, to now sleeping in his house and his bed, you were quite sure he didn't feel the same. Obviously his gestures were pure gentlemanly charm if he didn't bite after tonight's show.

So you tried to sleep, still a little drunk, but getting drunker off his scent. You tried to ignore the ache between your legs but the thought of him in this bed, groaning as his hand pumped his member to completion, made you throb. Soaked and antsy, you finally gave in and stuck your hand under the waistband of your panties. You let your imagination run wild, picturing him taking you in this bed, bringing you to bliss more than once. You could practically hear him groaning and panting, the sound seeping from your subconscious to the bedroom.

Tomorrow you would likely tell Jimmy yes. But tonight, you would try your best to get Joel out of your system, one stroke of your fingers at a time. But as you finished, coming with a whisper of Joel's name under your breath, you could still hear the groans and pants from Joel. Climbing out of bed, you moved to the door, pressing your ear against it. You could just barely hear the sounds of him panting and groaning, intermittent with the fapping of skin on skin. Delightedly surprised, you listened harder, feeling your pussy drool at the thought. How desperately you wanted to go out into the living room and climb on top of him. But he might not want that… he probably just couldn't sleep. Probably nothing to do with the scene you put on earlier. So instead, you slinked back to his bed, opting for round two.

At some point, the two of you fell asleep, panting and writhing with the self-induced pleasure, and the sound of each other through the door.

_____

The next morning, you awoke, walking down the hall to see Joel in his pajama bottoms and no shirt, making coffee. Your eyes scanned his broad shoulders and back, naked and tan. Bringing you back to last night's events, you felt your breath catching in your chest.

“M-morning” you stuttered out, nervously.

Joel jumped, having not heard you. He turned, greeting you with a good morning. A faint blush crept across his cheeks and he quickly turned his head to pour a cup of coffee, offering you some as well. Thanking him, the two of you sipped in silence, both stealing glances at the other and thinking of the night before. Both of you felt like you had a dirty little secret the other didn't know.

“Thanks again for taking care of me last night,” you added. In more ways than one, you thought.

“Of course, darlin’. Couldn't have you walkin’ home all alone or getting sick in the middle of the night. You're always welcome here,” he smiled.

“Well, I guess I better head to my house now,” you sighed. “See you later at patrol?”

“Course. Take care, sugar.” He brushed his hand over your arm. That's new… you thought. But still, probably friendly, unfortunately.

____

Hours later, you show up to patrol, noticing Joel hasn't arrived yet. Still a few minutes early, you look at the map, thinking over the route. You felt a tap on your shoulder, and turned around to see Jimmy.

“Hey, Jimmy,” you greeted, feeling slightly awkward. You assumed he probably wanted (and deserved) an answer. You rubbed your arm nervously, staring at the ground, wondering what to tell him. He was handsome, you thought, and you weren't getting anywhere with Joel.

“Did you, uh” Jimmy scratched behind his ear, “give any more thought to that date?”

Geesh. Not a lot of thinking time here…

“I did,” you replied. “I think… My answer is yes. I'll go out with you.” You felt a pang of regret in your stomach, but you wanted a connection, and you just weren't getting that from Joel, despite what you wanted to think from last night.

Jimmy grinned. “Really?” He picked up your hand, holding it in his. “That's great. I know you have patrol today, but maybe Friday? I'll meet you at your house at 6?”

“Sure,” you gave a small fake smile. “Sounds great.” He still held your hand, warm and soft and nothing like the rugged, large, callused hands of hard-working Joel. Although Joel has never held your hand, the times he's touched your arms, or held you up on your walk from the bar, he left a trail of goosebumps and butterflies in his wake, despite being warm to the touch.

Jimmy went to kiss your hand, just as Joel walked up. “What’s goin’ on here, huh?” He asked, seeming almost… angry, looking from Jimmy, to your connected hands, over to your face. “Joel,” Jimmy dropped your hand, giving Joel a curt nod.

“Jimmy..” Joel replied, teeth clenched.

“I'll see you Friday,” Jimmy smiled at you, touching your shoulder before walking away.

“What did that little asshole want?” Joel growled.

“Geez Joel, chill out. What's your problem? I'm not allowed to talk to people?” You crossed your arms.

“I toldja last night. I don't trust that kid. Too busy sleepin’ around with the whole town. What's he talkin’ to you for?” Joel furrowed his brow, looking over at Jimmy across the room, now talking to some of the other patrolmen.

“Gosh Joel.. seriously what is wrong with you? First of all, he's hardly a kid. He's at least in his thirties. Second of all, everyone he's been with, I'm sure has been consensual, otherwise Tommy would have kicked him out of the town. And lastly, but probably more important. What do you mean “what is he talking to you for?” You mocked in a deep voice. “Like I'm the only option he has left? Like I'm not deserving of a man talking to me? Not that it’s any of your business, friend, but for your information, Jimmy is taking me on a date on Friday. So fuck off, Joel.” You started to stomp away angrily, grabbing your pack off the desk.

“The fuck he is,” Joel muttered under his breath, so quiet you didn't hear and grabbing his pack as well.

_____

Five hours. Five hours of riding in complete silence, checking out abandoned buildings in complete silence, and taking breaks in complete silence. Even your first patrol wasn't this quiet, and you couldn't help but feel like he was somehow angry at you.

As irritated as you were with him, not talking to him somehow felt worse. This wasn't like him. Is this the grumpy side everyone talks about? Is this Joel, the asshole you have yet to meet?

Feeling confused, your eyes started to cloud, slightly teary with anger and sadness, yet also a bit of dread at going out with Jimmy. You blinked your eyes, sorting through the abandoned drug store you and Joel were in.

Finding some condoms on a shelf, you threw them in your pack. “What're you doin’?” Joel asked. “Those can't be sold, didn't you pay attention to Tommy? They're rarely effective this old.”

“Yes I paid attention, Joel. I know they can't be sold. They're for me. I figured it's better than nothing,” you replied bitterly. “I have a date in a couple days, I want to be prepared,” you scowled. Joel’s jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything, instead turning to look the other direction of the aisle.

Crouched down to search the bottom shelf for other items, Joel was still turned away from you, keeping lookout on the other end of the aisle.

You didn't even hear the stalker leap around the corner from the shadows and pounce on you. It opened its mouth, fungal strands spreading from its mouth towards your face. Pure fear pulsed through your veins.

“Joel!!!!!” You cried out, using all your strength to try and push the infected off of your body, but it was too strong.

You screamed and kicked, struggling to break free, when Joel fired his shotgun, shooting the enemy in the head and immediately running over to you. Throwing the infected off of your body as if it was weightless, Joel scooped you into his arms. His lips moved but you heard nothing. Your ears rang, high pitched squeals from adrenaline, fear, shock, and the bang of the shotgun.

Joel pawed over your body, roughly inspecting you for bites and wounds in a frenzy. When he didn't find any, he held you in his arms again. “It's okay baby, it's okay. You're alright sweetheart. Come back to me, it's okay. You're okay.” Your hearing must have returned. He rocked you, tears welling from your eyes and his. “You're okay. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.” He kissed your ear and the side of your head, still rocking you in a hug, sitting on the floor, inches from the now-dead infected. The two of you needed to get out of here, but neither of you could move yet.

Finally you spoke. “Why are you sorry Joel?” You asked with a sniffle. You wrapped your arm around his back, the other hand finding the back of his head, gripping his curls gently.

“I'm sorry for how I've been actin’ all day. I'm sorry I didn't see that stalker before he attacked. I'm sorry for being so possessive earlier. I'm sorry,” he held you tighter.

You pulled back to look into his eyes. “Joel, you couldn't have heard or seen that stalker. That's what they do best. You saved me and that's all that matters. As for earlier, you were being an asshole, and it did really hurt my feelings. All this time people have said you're such a jerk, and I didn't see it,” you pulled away from his grip, “but today I did.” You looked at your lap. “Don't I deserve to go on a date? Don't I deserve to have someone love me?” You picked at the hem of your pants, avoiding his eye contact.

“Oh, darlin', I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to feel that way. I just - you deserve something real, not a hookup like that guy wants. I know his type. He'll sleep with you and toss you aside. You deserve to be treated like a lady.”

You snorted. “Yeah, Joel. That's how things are nowadays, too. Gentleman just waiting to sweep me off my feet. Shit, you literally just saved me from near-death, something that happens all the time today, and yet you're saying I deserve love? To find romance? Yeah, right.”

Joel didn't say anything. He just looked into your eyes, lips pursed and moving to the side in thought. His eyes drifted to your lips and back up to your sight.

You continued. “I don't even like Jimmy,” you said quietly. “I like someone else, but I just got tired of waiting and wanted some kind of connection. Even if it's just a night in bed.” At the last part of your sentence, Joel grimaced, almost in pain. And then he thought.

“Wait,” he sat back a little, scanning your face. “Who do you like?”

You gulped. Why not a little more adrenaline? “Well, it was you, until you started acting like an asshole. But I realized you probably didn't feel the same way a while ago. Especially after I practically threw myself at you last night.”

“Threw yourself at me last night? What are you talkin’ about? You were drunk,” Joel answered.

“I wasn't that drunk, Joel. My movements were pretty planned. The placement of my touches on your body. My ass angled up in your direction. I wanted you,” you added, pointedly.

Joel looked like he was solving a complicated math problem. “So you… last night when you… I heard you, in bed, pleasurin’ yourself. Were you… thinking about me?”

You looked up at him in shock and panic. “You heard me?” You asked in a frantic whisper.

“Yeah, I uh… I did. I got up to get a towel and heard your uh… sounds” he cleared his throat.

“I guess I should tell you then that I heard you too,” you said with a smirk.

Joel swallowed, hard. “Y-ya heard me?”

“Yep” you replied, popping your lips on the p sound.

Joel had nothing to lose at this point. “I was thinking about you,” he proclaimed. “Thinkin’ bout that wet spot on your panties when you flashed your ass in the air. Wishin’ I was buried inside you.” He ran his hand across your thigh.

Your breathing picked up. “I was thinking about you too. Wishing you'd bust through that door and take me in your bed, running my nails down your back as we came together…” you mimicked the motion with your fingers down his jacket-clad back.

“Fuck,” he hissed, eyes closing. You glanced down at the noticeable bulge in his jeans. “I like you too, I just never thought you felt the same. Y’never seemed to pick up on any of my sweet talkin’ or my names for ya.”

“I just figured you were being nice,” you replied, glancing back into his eyes.

“You should know by now, I'm only nice to you,” he growled. “I'm sorry I ruined that today,” he glanced at your mouth, licking his lips. “Was just jealous. Want you all for myself,” he stroked your thigh again.

You sighed at the feeling, pulling him by his collar to kiss him deeply. The kiss was frantic and rough, both of you trying to get as much of each other as possible, a year of build-up boiling at the surface. Teeth clashed and tongues danced and you pulled each other closer, grasping at clothes and skin.

The two of you broke the kiss, needing a gasp of air. You started to take off your shirt when Joel stopped you. “Whoa, darlin'. I want you just as bad, but not here,” he gestured to the old building. “It's dangerous, not to mention gross in here. I wasn't kidding when I said you deserve romance,” he stood, pulling you to your feet. “We're about a 20 minute ride from base, let's head home. Make your fantasy of fuckin’ in my bed come true,” he winked, giving a smack to your ass.

_____

The 20 minute ride felt never-ending as you both stole glances at each other, your panties still wet with arousal, and him still sporting the tent in his pants, which was hard to miss.

Finally making it back to the stables, you both quickly undressed the horses and put gear away, about to head out of the barn when Jimmy and his partner rode up. “Hey, babe,” he called to you. It sounded wrong from his mouth. Joel tensed at your side.

Dismounting his horse, Jimmy strolled over to you. “Hey Jimmy, I was thinking. I don't think I want to go on that date after all. I'm sorry, I just don't feel the same way.”

“What?” Jimmy asked in disbelief.

“I know, I'm sorry if I hurt you. I- I like someone else. I just didn't think they felt the same way,” you replied sheepishly.

“Fuck you,” he spat.

“What?” You were in disbelief.

“Fuck you, bitch. One of the few women in this town who won't fuckin’ put out. I was even gonna take you on some shitty date before I got you into bed, and now you make a fool of me? Nah, I don't think so,” he stalked towards you angrily.

You stepped back, worried what he might do, but Joel stepped in first, nailing a punch at Jimmy's nose. “Don't you dare talk to her like that,” Joel yelled.

Tommy came running in, hearing the commotion. After hearing what happened, it was decided that Jimmy wouldn't be welcome in this town any longer.

Satisfied, you grabbed Joel's hand. “Why don't I show you who I really belong to?” You looked up at him, biting your lip.

“Lead the way, baby.” He pushed you forward, smacking your ass.

The two of you stumbled into his house, kissing with little regard for objects. Luckily, Ellie was still at a friend's house. The door slammed closed and you kissed furiously, undressing as you walked. Finally you reached his bedroom and fell onto the bed, where he made all your fantasies of the night prior come true. The two of you enjoyed the taste of each other's mouths, kissing and licking, while he pounded into you, leaving you breathless and screaming his name as you both came.

“That was even better than I imagined,” you sighed, rolling over onto his chest.

“That's my girl,” he cooed, kissing your head and rubbing your back.

“Mine,” he whispered.

813 notes · View notes

shanastoryteller · 6 months ago

Note

HAPPY PRIDE!!!

Could you, pretty please, write more of the Draco in the muggle world or Draco and the twins take down Voldemort AU?

Love your writings!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37

George watches anxiously as Harry closes his eyes and Tori leans over him. He really, really hopes this works. They don't exactly have a backup plan if it doesn't.

Things are uncomfortably silent. He'd imagined this soul sucking business to be a lot more dramatic, but they can't see much under the large hood of Tori's pink robe and neither of them are making a sound.

Then she's drifting back and Harry's blinking rapidly.

"Did it work?" Ron asks anxiously, stepping forward to grab Harry's shoulders and shaking him. "Are you okay? How was it?"

"Wet," Harry says, eyes finally focusing. "I don't feel any different. Wait - my scar doesn't hurt anymore. Does that mean it worked?"

They turn to Tori, who gives a thumbs up. The dull gray of her skin has turned a shimmering silver now that she's consumed each piece of Voldemort's soul. All the dementors that had come to Hogwarts had sickly grey-black skin where it wasn't scabbed over. He wonders if that means they sent starving dementors to a school full of children and what idiot thought that was a good idea.

"Is it over then?" Fred asks uncertainly. "Voldemort's dead? For good?"

They all look towards Voldemort's soulless body that's still passed out on the couch.

Hermione raises her gun. Two shots and a smattering of brain matter later, she says, "Yeah."

"You seriously couldn't have waited to do that?" Draco complains. At least the polyjuice as worn off and he's wearing his own face again. "That settee is from the seventeen hundreds. It's going to take more than scourgify to get that out."

"Um," Harry says. "Okay. Well - should we. Tell someone?"

Draco waves a hand. "Yeah, sure, just leave me out of it."

"Leave you out of it?" Ron repeats incredulously. "You killed Voldemort and you don't even want the credit?"

"Technically, Tori did that - much obliged, Tori," he says, and she gives a bobbing head nod in acknowledgement. "And it was more of a team effort. Besides, no, I have a reputation to maintain if you've forgotten. I wanted Voldemort to stop hitting on my mother, now he won't, so this really doesn't have anything to do with me now." He frowns. "Besides getting the settee cleaned before dad notices. He'll go spare."

George thinks he might be more upset about the dead dark lord, but who knows with the Malfoys. Draco didn't turn out like this out of nowhere.

"You've been working to defeat Voldemort," Hermione says slowly, "because he was flirting with your mother?"

"Like that wouldn't be enough for you," he scoffs.

Ew.

Ron scrunches his face, then says, "Fair enough. But that still doesn't change how we're supposed to, um, handle this."

Draco rolls his eyes. "I'm taking Tori back to the island. You guys figure that out."

"I'll come with you," George says eagerly, dodging Fred's hand when he tries to hold him back. He waits until it's just three of them to ask, "Do you really not have a plan for this part?"

Draco grins at him, wide enough that George can see the dimple on his left cheek. "Let's see what they come up with. I can't be the only one doing the heavy lifting around here."

"Okay," he says, wondering if now that Voldemort's dead, Draco will kiss him.

#that was harry's first kiss rip #could have been worse i suppose #asks #anon #prompt answers #prompts are closed #harry potter

315 notes · View notes

last-words-ofashootingstar · 1 year ago

Text

Moll

❥ Choi San x fem reader

SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL

➯a/n: i've been watching waaaaay too much 1920s drama sooooooo (i went way overboard, i feel liek i wrote a movie)

✃ moll; a mobsters girl, circa 1920s

✫彡wordcount: 6.2k

(✯◡✯)(>ᴗ•)genre: 1920s mafia au, plot heavy smut

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: mentions of drugs, violence, threatening with a gun(safety was on lol), kidnapping, forced marriage, forced affection, stockholm syndrome, pregnancy, murder(not descriptive at all), NSFW; virginity loss, unprotected (NO DO THAT🫵🏻), possessiveness to the max, breeding kink

not proof read

✩ index: dope; drugs, specifically cocaine or heroin. bent; drunk. bump you off; murder. bearcat; a feisty woman. vamp; an aggressive flirt. flat-tire; a bore. punch the bag; talk. dame, doll, bunny, water-proof; a (attractive) woman. holding a torch; having a crush. get in a lather/ get lathered up; get worked up or angry. skin; condom. get a wiggle on; leave quickly.

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

"Where's the money?"

"That's all of it! Please, Mister-"

The echoing slap across the room makes you cringe from your hiding place in the pantry. It's nothing new. Your family had been mixed up in all kinds of shenanigans and you had witnessed a great deal of them. But it always hurts when they come back to haunt you.

You cup your hand over your mouth to muffle your scared breath, trying desperately put your mind in a better place. Anywhere but here.

"I gave you more than enough time. Don't you think?"

"Nobodies buying, please Mr. Choi! You have to understand, I tried. I went from corner to corner to corner," your older brother pleads.

He isn't lying either. The drugs that the mafia had provided him to sell- well, they weren't selling. No body had the money. If they did, they only bought the smallest amount and resold it at a higher price.

It wasn't his fault the country was in a depression.

"It- I still have the dope stored away! Just in the back shed, you can have it back! May-maybe someone up North can have better lu-ah!"

A dull thud.

And another.

A crash. Your brothers body hitting the floor no doubt.

"You gon' tell me how to peddle my own product now? I don't think so! Are you bent? Huh?" His voice gets louder with each insult hurled at your brother. "You skim a little of the top, is that it? I oughta bump you off!"

You can't help the small gasp that exits your shaking lips, and you immediately recognize your mistake as it goes silent in the home. Only your brothers ragged breathing and the thrumming of your anxious heart reaching your ears.

"Mr. Ch-"

"Shut your kisser! Who's here with us?"

"N-Nobody! No! No, no, wait-"

Light floods the small room you've sought safety in, and that false sense of security shatters the second you see the man attached to the threatening voice.

He's a cop.

He's got a badge and a gun and authority. He's supposed to be someone safe. Instead, he's got knuckles blooded with your kin and a smirk on his stubbled face.

His wide shoulders block the light, casting his silhouette over you like a storm cloud.

You've cowered into the corner, skirt pulled over your trembling knees as you scoot further away. Wide eyes looking up at him, silently pleading.

"Why you hidin', vamp?"

"Please, Mr.Choi, she don't know from nothing!"

You glance past the man -Mr.Choi- 's neat slacks, and see your brothers face messed with blood, dripping onto the floor from his nose. He's pulling himself up slowly, kneeling on the hardwood.

"Get up," Mr.Choi nods his head at you, and you immediately follow his order, afraid to test his nerves further. "Help this goof up." You lower your head, slowly approaching the man who stays in the doorway. "Now, we ain't got all day!"

You rush past him and kneel, wrapping your arms under his and pulling him up with a grimace, "c'mon, Bub, get up."

The man watches you heave him up, leaning against the wall with his hand on his hip holster in case you decide to get brave. "Bub's done got you mixed up in something real risky, girl. What do you know?"

"Don't know nothin', Mister. Mind my own." You feign some semblance of calm. You lower your brother onto a chair, and he nearly falls onto the dinner table before you catch his head. "You had to knock him on the head?"

He chuckles, slowly stalking around the room, "don't get mouthy, Bearcat." He takes a seat at the head of the table, pointing to the chair opposite of him. "Sit."

You lower his dizzy head to rest on the table before taking the seat he pointed to, folding your hands in your lap and lowering your head. "I never touched your dope, I don't mess with that."

He slowly places his gun on the table, fingers lingering over it. He studies you- eyes never leaving. "How much of the beans has he spilled to you?"

"I don't know what you mean-"

"Oh, sure."

You look up, and you regret floods your veins. He's sizing you up. Face completely void of emotion. Shoulders slack and relaxed like he isn't ready to shoot you at a moments notice. "Punch the bag, now. Before I shoot off your Bubs knee cap." He cocks his gun.

"Okay! Okay, listen-" you gulp, looking back down, "all he's ever told me is that he gets some products and sells them, gives you the money and you give him a cut. That's it! That's all I know, really. Don't know where you get it or nothin'. I can keep my trap shut."

"You don't go to the corners with him?"

"Nev-"

"If I show your face at the station, nobody gonna recognize you?"

"No," you look up again, "everyone knows I'm a good girl, Officer."

He lets out an amused chuckle, rubbing his brow. "You tugging my leg?"

"No. I'm not a drug peddler. I'm a secretary. I volunteer at the soup kitchen. I babysit-"

Your anxious babbling to get yourself out of your brothers trouble is interrupted when Mr.Choi, suddenly behind you, grips the back of your neck and pushes your head to the table. Your eyes meet your brothers drowsy ones, tears quickly filling up in both. "Please, she's tellin' the truth! I ain't even tell her I was selling till you called last minute! She's innocent!"

"I don't like liars!" He shouts, making you jump under his harsh grip, "I asked you if we were alone the moment I walked in this dump! You're a little sneak, aye? How do I know you didn't hide her to gather intel on me? Get me fired and kicked out? Get yourself a little raise? How do I know she's even your sister? She could be a snake! Tell me the truth, now!"

The cool metal of his gun touches your temple, and the sobs you've been holding back fall out of your lips loudly. "Bub, tell him!"

"Tell me, Bub!" He mocks you, pressing the barrel deeper into the back of your head.

"That's the truth! I sell your dope by myself and she doesn't know nothing about it! Please, she's all I have!" He's growing more and more frantic, head heavy as he lifts it to look Mr.Choi in the eyes, "I'll find a way! I'll go up North myself, I-I'll take a dimebox to Iafeild o-or," he himself is crying now, watching helplessly as he tugs you out of your chair. "Please, she's all I have!"

He pushes you to the floor and watches you scramble, kicking your knees out from under you, albeit gently, it makes you fall face first. He lowers himself in a squat, watching you with a certain amusement you curl up on yourself. "Well why didn't you just say so!" He clips his gun back on his hip and smirks as you both let out a sigh of relief.

Mr.Choi doesn't leave just yet, however.

He straddles your back and flips you over, gripping your chin as it trembles. Pulls your face close to his and inspects you. Your tears wet his fingers. "Hmm, can't blame me for being suspicious. She's water-proof and you," he looks over at the table and chuckles, "well you're just a dog."

He stands and extends his hand for you, rolling his eyes as you ignore it. "Get up, Doll." He groans, pulling you to your feet, "go pack a bag."

"W-"

"She's not goin' with you," your brothers brief bravery is shut down the second the copper reaches for his gun again, "I- I mean why?"

"You," Mr.Choi points to him, "are gonna go to Iafeild and sell all of the shit I gave you like you should have done two months ago. And she," he wraps his arm around your shoulders with a cocky grin, "is gonna be your encouragement to get me my money. If you aren't back with all of it in... three weeks, say? Little sis' here is gonna take the big sleep." He ignores you as you cry harder, simply glaring at your brother. "Capiche?"

He nods frantically, looking away as you look to him with pleading eyes. There's nothing he can do. This is bigger than him. He's got messed up with the wrong crowds and now you have to pay the price as well.

"Put a pep in your step, clock starts tonight."

❦

He opens the car door, watching silently as you peek your head out before your body follows.

You clutch your bag close to your chest, still sniffling and sobbing quietly. Your kitten heels click on the cement, messed curls blowing with the October winds.

"Follow me," he guides you by the small of your back, shockingly gentle with your shaking form. "Don't pull any tricks, Doll." He leads you up the stairs of the secluded farm house, opening up the screen door and ushering you in.

"San, Finally!" A voice booms from inside the home, making you squeak. When you turn to go back out the door, you collide with Mr.Choi, who you gather must be San, 's chest. "Was starting to think- oh! Who's the dame?"

"This," he turns you by your shoulders and tilts your head up to face the man who's descending the stairs, "is Mr. (L/n)'s sister. She's staying for a bit while her brother sorts out some business upstate." You can almost feel his smirk in the way he speaks.

The other man, who's finally come face to face with you, seems a great deal less threatening than San.

"Tsk," he rolls his eyes at San, "sure thing, fella. You just went and found yourself a Moll."

"A Moll? Sure, she's cute but she seems a bit flat-tire, no? Not exactly the type of woman I go for."

"She's exactly the type you go for, you're trying to get her in the bag! Lost bunny is your type."

"Oh, take a hike, Hwa!"

You go back and forth looking at them in confusion as they bicker, hugging your bag to your chest tightly. You don't know what a 'Moll' is but you do know you don't want to be Mr. Chois. You simply tune them out and stare at the floor blanky, tears still flowing.

"If you're not holding a torch, why didn't you kill him like we planned?"

"Well-" His words die on his tongue as he looks over at you. You do look like a lost bunny. Making yourself small between them and letting your tears flow as a defense mechanism. He won't admit it, especially aloud. But you are exactly the woman he's been looking for. "Oh, hell," he pulls a blue handkerchief from his pocket and shoves it into your hand, "stop crying so much. Not gonna hurt you."

Very hard to believe after his threats, but you try your hardest to stop the onslaught of warm tears. You wipe your face with the fabric and sniffle quietly, coming back to your own body as Seonghwa extends his hand slowly.

"I'm Seonghwa, 'can call me Hwa if you like. I'll be lookin' after you when San here is busy. Let's get along well."

You shake his hand gently and croak out a simple, "(Y/n)."

❦

The rest of the day passed quickly, locked up in a bedroom while San and Hwa could still be heard downstairs, which only served to add to your anxieties. It felt as if at any second they would change their mind and come up to bump you off.

You busied yourself doing what San told you to before he locked the door behind him. 'Unpack and get cozy.' Though that latter wasn't as easy as hanging your few dresses in the oak closet and putting your hairbrush in the nightstand, awkwardly placing your products in the corner of the attached bathroom. Especially after you pieced things together.

There was an array of suits and slacks hanging in the closet. Shiny loafers on the floor. A clip of bullets in the nightstand. A roll of condoms. A stash of cash in a duffle bag on the hook behind the door. A pack of cigarettes and matches on the window sill. A bottle of cologne that smelled suspiciously like Mr. Chois car.

This was Sans room they had locked you in.

You had long took a seat on the windowsill and dangled your legs out of it, debating how badly it would hurt if you decided to fall and try to make a run for it. You came to the conclusion that it was useless. It took fourty minutes to get here from the city. The last home you passed being 20 of those away.

The lock on the door clinked loudly, and it opened slowly. You turned and looked over your shoulder, and it wasn't a surprise that San was the one you faced.

"Hungry, Doll?" He shuts the door with his foot as he carefully enters with a plate in hand. He doesn't seem alarmed by your hazardous seating choice, probably because he doesn't take you for a fool that will break their ankles trying to jump from the third story.

"No," you mutter, turning back around and facing the setting sun without another word or pleasantry his way.

"Don't let it get cold, I reheated it just for you."

"Too bad. Not hungry."

He comes behind you and rests his palms on either side of your hips, chest pressing to your back as he looks out at natures expanse. "Pretty, ain't it?"

When he doesn't get anything resembling a response, he tries again. "It's my own property. Worked in that barn everyday until I became a cop."

He's met with silence. "Plan to share it with my wife one day."

Nothing. "I know you think I'm a monster but I am just a man."

"A man who had a gun to my head..."

"A man who's just trying to survive a war and a pandemic. You'll get that one day. I don't mean no harm until harm comes for me."

A silence washes over you both for a moment.

"Will you shoot me if my brother doesn't sell all your dope?"

"No."

And again. His soft breath, your anxious ones.

"Then why am I here?"

It's his turn to be silent. He backs away from you and sits on the bed, watching you as you sit still like a statue. You watch the sun disappear like a motion picture of art. A certain peace overcoming you for the briefest moment.

"Because you will be that wife that I share with."

And peace shattered by Choi San once again.

You head snaps in his direction, falling back into the house from the windowsill with a thud. You both stare at one another. San stares with an unreadable expression. Yours of pure horror and confusion. "What?!"

"I'll drop business with your brother for good. Clear all his debt with the boys. Give him all of the cash he gets from this last... adventure. He'll be well off and so will you. I'll make a good, honest woman of you."

"Y-" Yours brain is officially thrown into a panic, an overdrive of emotions, and it all tumbles out before you can stop it. "You have to be off your rocker! You're insane! I already am a good, honest woman! Go chase yourself, I'm not marrying you- you- what? No! No!"

"You 'aven't got much choice in the matter, Doll. Don't get yourself in a lather."

"Don't get- oh, I am lathered up, Mr.Choi! I oughta smack some sense into you, demanding a girls hand in marriage like it's still 1890! It's nineteen-twen-"

He smacks the sense into you before you can to him.

"Oh God," you sob, holding your stinging cheek as tears build up in your waterline. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry," you lower your head. Thinking, surely, you just dug your own grave. "Please-"

"This is exactly why I chose you," he crouches in-front of your crumpled form and tilts your head up, "a dame who appears like a lost bunny but has the soul of a beast."

You simply stare up at him, deathly afraid to move or speak in fear of letting your anger and sadness slip again.

"Got somethin' to say?"

You gulp before nodding your head in his hold.

"Go on."

"I don't w-want to marry a mobster... I don't want to be involved with dirty money! A corrupt copper..."

He chuckles softly, rubbing his thumb over your untainted cheek. "You should be thanking me, Doll... That dirty money? Been putting a roof over your head for three years. Corrupt copper? Well, he even had the decency to have the safety on his gun while pointing it at your pretty head. Mobster? Willing to put a ring on your finger and give you a nice home."

The tears start free falling as your situation fully sinks in. There really is no way out. You'll end up in the ground if you don't let him put a ring on it.

"So, I'll say it again," he grips the back of your neck, squeezing ever so slightly, "you should be thankin' me."

"T-thank you."

"Attagirl," he lets go of you completely, letting you fall back to the floor, "now eat."

❦

He let you be that night, and you didn't see him the next morning either. It was Seonghwa who came to the door, and you didn't know if you should feel relieved or not.

"Hey, Miss," He spoke softly, staying just outside of the doorway. "I heard what happened... I'm sorry."

He seemed genuine enough. You sat down your hairbrush and turned on the small stool. Your eyes puffy and red from the lifetimes worth of crying you did last night.

"Uhm, so San wants us to go to town and pick out some fabrics for your weddin' gown. If you aren't up for it, I can pick them out myself."

"Will he be going with us?"

"No, just you and I."

You were sick and tired of smelling San every time you tried to take a deep breath, and that's how you ended up here.

It's less overwhelming than being in that farmhouse that seems to be your prison for now and for forever to come. But overwhelming nonetheless.

Hwa is talkative. But you don't mind. He treats you well. Like an equal. He doesn't talk down to you like many men do. And that, you very much appreciate.

He tells you of how he feels it's unfair you have no saying in your future, his heart is heavy with sadness that he cannot help you. And he tells that to your face. He will not help you. He is loyal to San. But that doesn't mean you can't be friends.

You seem to share life stories with one another the entire car ride there. And then he already feels like an old friend as he holds up fabrics to your skin to see which compliments you best. You, admittedly, aren't as into it as he is. As much as a bride should be. But then, how could you when you were picking things out for the day that would solidify your future with a mobster?

You both settle on one that, you will admit, made your heart flutter when you imagined yourself in. And then you're on your way, but Seonghwa stops the vehicle halfway through town.

"What are we doing?" You look out of the window and your heart stops in your chest as you see that he's parked infront of the police station. "No, Hwa! You promised I wouldn't have to see him."

"I'm sorry, Miss (Y/n)... he said he wanted to see what you picked afterwards. It will be quick."

You take a few deep breaths without San's cologne smothering you, then you swing the door open and follow after Hwa.

Sans broad shoulders aren't hard to pinpoint in the semi-packed station. "Ah, my beautiful fiancée!" He perks up immediately as he spots you and his friend.

What he does next absolutely floors you.

He cups both of your cheeks, and kisses you deeply. Right out in the open. Hot lips on yours.

You grip his wrists, face flushed with heat as he pulls away, bending down slightly to rest his forehead on yours. "Did you pick a pretty fabric for our special day?"

The look in his eyes seems almost innocent from far away. He's already got everyone in the room convinced that you're a willing participant of this relationship. But you, up close and personal, can see the glint of silent threats in his eyes- telling you to keep up the act or face the consequences.

"Uhm, uh-huh," you move slight to the side and look to Hwa, who's head is down slightly for a spilt second before he smiles at you and San and holds out the roll of fabric.

"Oh, Doll, what a good choice! No doubt you will look jaw-dropping," he runs his fingers over the fabric, imaging the pure beauty that you will be. "You'll make it extra good, right, Hwa? Only the best for my girl."

" 'Course, San. We're gonna work on some sketches when we get home." His smile is genuine, like he looks forward to it.

"Officer Choi! Hate to interrupt but we got a hold-em-up at the bank," another officer passes in a hurry, stopping briefly to congratulate you both.

"Ah," he clicks his tongue, rubbing his hands on your side gently, "wish me luck?"

"Good luck..." He looks like he's waiting for more. You gulp and force a smile, almost gagging on the words you conjure up, "good luck, Baby."

❦

The days after that first one passed almost like groundhog day. You awoke with San nearly laid ontop of you. Bathed and made breakfast. Worked with Hwa on your gown until it was completed. Walked around the farm and conversed with the farm-hand. Cooked and had a semi-awkward dinner with the three of them. Talked and became closer with San, slowly becoming happier with your situation.

And then all too suddenly...

It's two days short of three weeks since you've been 'brought home', as San likes to say. Which means one very big thing.

You are to be married.

It's a small affair, but beautiful nonetheless.

You can quickly tell that only one side of San's life is invited. There is not a badge to be seen as you peer out of the window, only gangster after gangster taking their seat.

Hwa finishes buttoning up your gown and steps back, smiling at you like a proud family member. "Ready, Miss?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Hwa walks you down the aisle.

And then it's a blur.

How did your get back in your bedroom? Was the ceremony already over?

It seems to have happened in a flash.

You stand infront of the window again. All of the guests have either left or have taken up in one of the many guest rooms in the home. San no doubt offered them up so that he could have witness to what was about to happen.

Your wedding night. Oh, how special and magical a day.

San slides his hands up your back, landing on your tall collar and skillfully unbuttoning it. Slowly, almost teasingly. His words send a shiver down your spine, they set your hairs on edge: "you are so beautiful, my Dear... it took everything in me not to take you right there in the aisle. I've never wanted anyone, or anything, as badly as I want you."

Your breath hitches in your throat as his soft lips come in contact with your now exposed neck. It not the first time he's left adoring kisses on your body. But somehow it feels different as husband and wife. "San..."

"Yes, Doll?"

"I... I'm a virgin."

"I know, Doll. Tell me to stop and I shall, but... I want to make you feel good like only a husband can. I want to show you my love in physical form." His hands slide into the now open back of your dress, around to your breasts. "Only I can touch you. Only you can touch me. Do you understand that?"

A breathless 'yes' trembles out of your lips as he cups your bosom. The little moan that follows has his hard member throbbing, so ready to finally claim you. He presses it to the round of your ass, and you have to hold back a gasp, simply letting your mouth gape as you look out at the dark night sky. But when his calloused finger tips roll over your hardened nipples, you can't bite back the curse of pleasure that bubbles in your throat.

"Oh, you poor bunny," he whispers in your ear, "you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." The warmth of him slowly dissipates, and the tell-tale sound of the stool in the room dragging on the floor makes you turn around. "Drop your gown, let me see my wife in her full glory."

Heat burns on your cheeks, of embarrassment or arousal you can't quite tell at the moment. He's shed his fanciest uniform jacket and is now working on his button up, his cock straining against his slacks.

"You ever seen a man's prick?" He smirks as he catches you staring. Your eyes don't leave his lap as you take off your white kitten heels. That is, until he calls you out.

"No," your eyes drop to the ground as you neatly arrange your shoes, "never..."

"Mine will be the first? Mm, first and only," he half hazardly tosses his shirt, leaving his chest bare. Scars and toned muscle on full display for you. "Catch up, Dollface."

You step out of your gown carefully, holding it to your chest to hide yourself. "What if I'm not... pretty enough?"

"Oh, my wife can't possibly disappoint. I've seen that silhouette while you shower." He tilts his head and smiles, a soft smile. "You'll be my first as well."

You swear your eyes have bugged out of your head the way he chuckles at your expression. "Really?"

He stands, gently unraveling your fingers tight grip on the white fabrics. "Really, and I don't want to wait any longer. I want it to be with you. It will be with you." You let him take the fabric, and he drapes it on the stool carefully without ever taking his eyes off of you.

"W-what about the skins in our drawer?"

"So I don't make a mess while I fuck myself thinking about all of the dirty things I want to do with my wife."

"Oh-" You swear you're running a fever. You've never felt this way before- but then, you imagine you'll be feeling many firsts tonight.

"Would you like to hear about them?" He grins, his signature shit-eating-grin, as he guides your hands to his belt. You fiddle with it with a small nod, slowly pulling it off of him as he speaks. "I've got you laid down on our bed, legs spread..." You unbutton his slacks. "Touching, exploring what's mine." His zipper is undone next. "I take my time, make you nice and wet." His bottoms are gone. "I hold your hands." His boxers go after them. "And then I fuck you on my cock."

And he did exactly that. That's how you got here.

Hours of teasing later, his member is finally buried inside of you, stretching you like your fingers never could. He interlocks his fingers with yours as his hips withdrawn. Squeezes your hands tightly as he slowly sinks back in.

"Oh God," you whisper, heels digging into the mattress as you arch beneath his built frame, "ah, Sannie."

His hips stutter, mind overheating as the nickname reaches him. You feel... oh, you feel amazing. Like heaven on Earth. Your gummy, warm walls suck him in, so wet and inviting. He wants to bury himself in your cunt and never leave. "Fuck, Bunny, you feel fucking godly."

Only a moan is his response, your head tossed to the side in embarrassment. "D-don't stop," you pant, squeezing his hands tighter as you gather the courage to- "please go faster." Oh, nevermind. Your mind has left and only your pussy's logic remains. And it's logic is- "Sannie, faster!"

His thick, veiny shaft feels otherworldly as it drags against you. You need more. And he is happy to oblige. He quickens his pace, keeping his strokes languid and tender so as not to hurt you. But by God, he goes faster.

"Ah! Ah, my God!" You cry into the night, uncaring as your pleasure echoes in the houses thin walls.

Your noises, your facial expressions, your divine warmth around him. San feels that familiar coil tighten quickly, winding up. "Fuck, (Y/n), I'm gonna bust," he bites his lip, a loud moan vibrating his chest.

"C-close, I'm close, Sannie," you squeeze his fingers in yours, looking up beggingly, "please don't stop, ah- ah! Just like that! Nngh!" Your eyes roll back into your head, cunt clenching down on him like a vice, a gush of heat tells him you've just came around him, so he no longer holds back.

He hooks one of his legs around yours and pushes himself deeper than before, making you yell out in overstimulated ecstasy. And that primal yelp as he buries himself as deep as possible sends him over the edge, coil in his gut not only snapping- but burning to ash as he fills your womb with his release. "Fuck, fuck," he whines, rutting into you unable to move as your core clenches more than ever, refusing to let him go. "Mine," he growls out, leaning down and colliding his lips with yours passionately.

Your body goes limp beneath him, your soft breaths fanning against his sweaty face as he pulls away from the kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist tightly and your jelly like arms wrap around his broad shoulders. "Mine, all fuckin' mine," he lowers his weight onto you slowly, and it makes his hard cock feel heavier than before. He ignores your whiny moans, resting his head on your chest. "My wife, filled with my seed. Mine, mine, mine," with each of his possessive proclamations comes a thrust of his hips. "Say it, say you're mine."

"I'm yours," you whimper under his weight, blissed out beyond belief and in shock that -despite having filled you less than five minutes ago- he is already rock hard again and thrusting into you, slowly building his speed back up.

"Louder," he demands, head pressed firmly to your chest and listening intently to your drumming heart beat.

"I'm yours," you speak more confidently.

"Louder," his pace has passed where you reached before, he's nearly drilling you with his cock.

"Ah! Fuck!" You screech, nails digging into his skin, legs wrapping around his wildly thrusting hips instinctively.

"Say it," his voice rumbles on your chest, sending vibrations through you as his thrust shake the bed, "fucking say it, tell everyone who you belong to."

"I'm yours, San! Oh! San! Sannie! Baby!" Your brain has shut down, you're putty in his arms, babbling loudly. "Cumming!" You can't help but announce it to the farm, your pleasure has set you ablaze and everything is pointless besides San.

He follows shortly after, his second release flooding your stretched walls and pushing his first out, making a mess of your sheets and pelvises.

When he doesn't show any sign of slowing, you slap his shoulders repeatedly and let out a loud whine. He stills deep inside of you and pants into your chest, cock still throbbing inside of you.

He's become insatiable.

"Break, please," you slur, hands finding purchase in his disheveled hair. He melts into the drunken affection, eyes peering up at you with love and adoration... obsession in the comfort of your own home.

He slowly pulls out of you, watching in awe as the pearly white of his love seeps out of you. He rubs your thighs in a soothing manner, taking a moment to catch his own breath.

"D...do you feel good?" He looks up, almost like a lost puppy. You've never seen him so vulnerable.

"God, yes," you smile at him dopily, propping yourself up on your elbows with a groan. He sits back, immediately locking his arms around you and pulling you into his lap. His scent blankets you, and you welcome it. Taking a deep breath.

His member is messy with a mix of your juices, resting against your lower belly like it knows that's where it belongs. Showing you both how deep he reaches.

The sight alone lights the fire in you again, now just as insatiable as he is.

"I love you." The words that slip past your swollen lips shock the both of you, eyes meeting in an instant.

The crickets outside chirp their song, stars and moon casting light through the window. A shooting star flies by.

"I love you."

❦

There's a knock at the door. Strange. Anyone who needs in can get in. You trot down the stairs and stop halfway as your eyes meet your brothers through the screen door. "Bub?" You nearly trip over your feet as you jump down the rest of the steps, slinging the door open and wrapping your arms around him tightly. It been long past those three weeks San have him. Almost a year past.

"Bub! Bubby!" He spins you around in his arms, nearly falling off of the porch.

"Oh, thank God! You're alive!" Both of you have wide smiles, blissfully unaware as San turns the corner in his farming overalls. "Let's get a wiggle on, before Mr.Choi knows I'm here." San stops in his tracks, eyes trained on you.

"Oh... Bub."

"Let's get, c'mon." He goes to drag you by your arm to the awaiting car.

"Stop! I'm not going with you."

A smirk grows on Sans as a frown grows on your brothers. "N-not going? Don't be silly!"

"Let go of me," you slap his hand away and when your hand falls back to your side, that's when he sees it.

Your belly. Swollen with child.

"(Y/n)..."

You wrap your hands around your stomach protectively as his concerned look turns to a glare. "D-did he rape you? Dear Lord," his hand flies to his mouth in shock.

"What!? No, no, nothing of the sort. San and-"

"Hurry, before he gets back."

"Before who gets back?" San grins wide as he joins your side, wrapping his arm around you and purposefully showing off the ring on his finger. "Long time, no see... Bub."

His face so that of a ghost, backing away until he hits Hwa, who forces him to kneel.

"You really left your poor helpless sister for dead?" The words that San speaks knocks the reality back into you. He did leave you. You'd been so happy with your new life that you'd forgotten entirely about what lead up to it. "I doubt you've even got my cash, huh?"

"Mister, please! Surely you've forgiven me?"

"I don't hold grudges... my wife is a different story, however." He turns to you with an innocent smile. "Honey?"

"Sissy... Tell me you didn't."

"I did." You dead pan. "You left me!" You land a slap harshly across his cheek. "Bastard!"

"Alright, Miss, don't put too much stress on the baby-" Hwa tries to calm you, but you've already gone off the deep end after being reminded of your life before San.

"I hate you!! You left me all alone! You threw me to the wolves! Where were you?!"

"Sis, just- just come home, you aren't thinking straight."

The cicada chirp loudly, nearly drowning out your next words.

"This is home. This is all I have. This is all I want."

"Sis, what has he-" Tears are welling up in your brothers eyes. And it pisses you off.

"I hate you! I never want to see you again, I hate your coward guts!"

San squeezes your shoulder gently and it brings you back to reality. Your brother is shaking as all of the realizations come crashing down on him. Hwa knows what's about to happen, he and San have talked about it a million times. He takes the gun from his belt and hands it over.

"My Moll has spoken."

Bang.

❦

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez au #ateez fic #choi san smau #choi san x reader #choi san #choi san smut #smut fic

961 notes · View notes

hotchfiles · 1 year ago

Text

❝ [IN THIS HOUSE OF MINE] ❞ — a 'cuz you're a natural sequel ; MDNI!

pairing: aaron hotchner x rossi!reader. summary: he vowed not to make a move on you, he never promised not to reciprocate yours. content warnings: yeah this one's smutty. fingering. oral (f! receiving). unprotected p in v. foul language. age-gap if you read part one. not proof read. 18+. MDNI. word count: 1,6k. a/n: i'm not a smut writer, hotch just fucks up my brain chemistry.

It's late when Aaron gets home, you shouldn't know that because you shouldn't be there. You had made him the favor of watching over Jack while Jessica had some medical appointments. You didn't mind, Jack was a good boy and the place smelled like Hotch. He told you it was only for a few hours and as soon as she picked Jack up, you could leave.

But you didn't, you stayed, and you waited. And almost scared him to death as he noticed the front door unlocked, hand going straight for his gun, a loud sigh of relief when he noticed it was just you. "Why're you still here? It's late."

You kneed on the couch, looking at him as he put his keys and suitcase over the table. "Want me to make an excuse? Lie?" You ask, completely straightforward, the time for the little games, the hunt, the flirting... Put behind you the moment he showed you interest weeks before. You were just waiting for the right moment, and there it was, presented to you on a silver platter.

He wasn't necessarily speechless, but rather weighting his options, debating the outcomes of each of his answers. He vowed to himself to not make a move on you, to not act on it. But there you were, on his house, knees to his couch, eyes glued on him. He glances your lips for few seconds, licking his own in the process. "I don't do lies."

Now you're the one thinking about your answer, how crass should you be? Should you tell him you're there still because you want to see him? To touch him? To hear him? Or should you be a bit more daring? Show him you're not playing games...

He's still some steps away from you, you're still in control, your voice won't crack, you're breathing completely fine, so you decide to use that in your favor while you can, going for the last option, "I'm still here because I want you to fuck me."

Aaron is a bit taken aback by the weight of your choice of words, but he's still him, so he only sighs, his thumb and middle finger going to his eyes, as if he was dealing with some sort of nuisance and not a gorgeous, fun and bold young woman ready to give him everything he craves and needs so much.

His hesitance should stop you, but it makes you feel like a fucking winner. He could've denied you right away. He could've been shocked, appalled. But he was neither and that makes you get out of the couch, closing the distance between your body and his, your glance up to him was challenging, defiant almost. "Agent Hotchner, you don't do lies. Tell me you don't want this and I'll leave."

Is he more aroused by the way you call him agent or by the fact he just doesn't know if you're bluffing or not? Aaron's not sure, but he's been so starved of the sort of attention you're giving him and he's so tired he can't fight his hunger anymore, he pushes you to the nearest wall as his reply, one of his hands pulls one of your legs up, placing it around his waist, the other pulls your lips to him by your neck.

The kiss is rough, harsh, he easily dominates you with it, stealing pants from you that it usually takes men a lot more to get, but you're not about to give him all the control, you were the one to go after him after all, so you sink your teeth to his bottom lip until you feel the taste of metal and Aaron moans, breaking the kiss to throw his head back, his cock hardening against his clothes. Against you.

Not that he was expecting you to be completely submissive under his touch, but your boldness was a surprise that kept on giving, you pushed him off of you, walking slowly towards his bedroom as you took each piece of clothing you were wearing off of your body, making a trail of it he gladly followed.

By the time you both get to his bedroom, only your panties are left and you lay on his bed, offering yourself for him to take. Aaron loudly groans, his shoes and his pants following the fate of your own before hovering your body, knee between your thighs giving you the friction you so desperately need. He should ask if you're sure about this, he should remind you of the consequences this could entail. He's usually so much better than this, so much more careful, but the second your hips move trying to get more from him and the moan escapes your throat the only words that leave his are not even close to what he should, "Gonna be the death of me, dear." You're glad he still has his shirt and tie on as you pull him to you with it, leaving to him to set up the pace of the kiss.

It was messy and greedy, his tongue took turns between exploring your mouth and leaving trails of saliva in between your shoulders and your chin, his hands were not much better, from your breasts to your waist, from your waist to your thighs and back to your breasts, rubbing your nipple harshly, making you squirm under him.

It doesn't take long for him to get you out of your last piece of clothing, his shirt and tie along with it, you sigh in disappointment, he could've left the tie, but you can't dwell on it much when he makes you fold up your legs and gives your folds that first slow, torturous swipe of his tongue. Your back arches and your hips buckle as he works you up, you find the only way to keep your body steady is to tug on his hair and grip on the pillow behind your head.

He's good, oh, he's so good, you can't even praise him properly, your brain going completely numb with pleasure, your voice being able to only whine his name and ask him for more, please, and he's not denying you anything as he inserts his thumb on your already slick hole, his tongue not leaving your clit, only changing paces and movements until he noticed which one made you writhe the most, your moaning getting more high pitched as you felt that known feeling of impending orgasm forming.

Aaron replaces his thumb with his middle finger and his tongue with his thumb, wanting to be closer to you, looking deep inside your eyes as you came undone for him, he kept his pace, observing your reactions, the way your hips moved trying to close your thighs on him, how your hands gripped the sheets. A thought of something he hasn't felt in a while passes through him and he tells you to move your hand to his shoulder, to his back. "Mark me." It's a demand, and you gladly oblige, sinking your nails to his flesh, scratching him and using his skin as an anchor as you started seeing white, the fastest and hardest orgasm a man has ever given you.

He helps you ride your high down, only moving his hand away when you were overstimulated by it, he sucks on his middle finger first and then inserts his thumb in your mouth so you can do the same, "Got what you stayed for?" He teases, and your hands go straight to his boxers, pulling it down so you can touch his stiff cock, already glistening with his precum.

"Not yet, agent." Your thumb barely touches his tip and he's sighing, eyes closed and lips between his own teeth to hold himself. He wants to push your head, feel your defiant mouth around him, but he hopes for another time as he takes your hand off of him, quickly and awkwardly getting his boxers completely out of his body.

Aaron positions himself between your legs, tapping your thigh as a command so you wrap them around his waist, he pumps himself two more times and shoves his cock into you, fully, no warning, earning a gasp from your lips and more scars on his back. It takes a second for you to adjust but it's not painful, sooner than he expects you're using your legs to push him deeper, to move.

You purposefully clench around his length, wanting nothing more than to see his face contort in pleasure, the pleasure you're giving him. Even if it causes him to last less, you want him to lose it, to throw his self control out the window.

He's about to tell you that he won't last if you keep doing it, but he sees your intentions clear as day by the lust in your eyes, your lips parted observing how gorgeous he looked panting, sweating for you. It makes him pick up his pace, faster and hitting harder that spot that makes you cry out his name, touching your forehead with his as he reached for his own peak. Letting out a low lingering fuck as he did so, the way his pubes hit your clit along with his pace enough to tip you over the edge once more that night.

Normally he would offer a bath once he's out of you, his seed dripping to your thighs, but he's too tired and sleepy so he just pulls you into his arms, his face nuzzling into your neck. You don't complain, wanting to enjoy this moment of proximity, hoping it wouldn't be the last.

Aaron hopes the same.

#lari writes sometimes #aaron x reader #aaron x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut #aaron hotch smut

563 notes · View notes

phoward89 · 8 months ago

Text

Dealer!Coryo x Reader

Weed, drugs, guns, cussing, fighting, parties, Coriolanus Snow being Coriolanus Snow, p in v, degradation, overstimulation, breeding kink, Dom!Coryo, Bratty!Reader, um that's bout it

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2:

Coriolanus swore that he was cutting you loose, but that didn't happen. Well, it happened for exactly 2 weeks, but then he walked into a party on the right side of town (Capitol Estates- a high end gated community full of super rich people. The Plinths tried to buy in the development, but the HOA didn't think the family was a good fit since they moved to Panem, Colorado from Dos, New Mexico roughly a decade back. Stuck up HOA bastards) with the intention to deal to some dumbass rich kids only to see your ex with you.

Wasn't Odysseus Odair supposed to be in California right now? What the ever loving fucking hell is he doing here flirting with you; giving you his charming manwhore smile? After seeing that, well, the dealer knew that he had to protect you from that motherfucker. He also felt jealous and very, very possessive of you.

Snow's possessiveness over you was primal. Almost caveman like in a way. Fuck! He just wants to toss you over his shoulder and yell for all to hear that you're off limits. That none of these dickweeds here are good enough for you.

So, without giving it a second thought, he went up to you. Slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you into his chest, he tilted his head and growled at your ex, “Back off, Odair, she's with me.”

“Oh, really?” Odysseus laughed, not looking convinced.

Craning your neck to look at Coryo, you ask, “What're you doing here?”

Giving you a hard look, icy eyes cold with anger, Coriolanus retorted in a dry, deep baritone, “Working, what're you doing letting your manwhore ex push up on you?”

“We're talking, Snowball. That's all.” You assure your dealer. You want to roll your eyes at how he's acting, but don't. You know he's worried about your ex wooing you back, but he's got nothing to worry about.

But try telling him that.

“Yea, Snowball,” Odysseus mocked, his voice over exaggerated with a saccharine syrupy tone. “we’re talking so why don't you go off and sell some drugs.” With a provoking smirk, he jeered, “Isn't that what you do, being a drug dealer and all?”

What the hell? Does your ex have a death wish? Doesn't he remember how Coryo beat the ever loving shit out of him for cheating on you. Odysseus can't be that stupid, can he? You know the man with sea-green eyes is a pretty boy, but he has to have a brain underneath all that bronze hair, right?

“Snow, this peacock giving you trouble ‘bout your girl?” Sejanus asked, coming up on the scene. Festus was next to him, already half drunk and high, and was giving Odysseus a nasty look.

Great, now Coriolanus’ dealer buddies have come to back him up. Great…the last thing you need is to be caught in the middle of a fight cause your dealer’s acting like a jealous asshole right now.

“Yea, Plinth.” Snow tells the broad bear of a man that he considers a friend. No, a brother. “Fucking manwhore thinks he can dis me; push up on what's mine too.”

Oh Jesus…what the hell's going on?! Since when are you Snowball's? As of two weeks ago he said he wanted to stop hooking up; told you he'd do weed exchanges at your house- that you guys can't keep fucking in his apartment.

Mhm…

And now the motherfucker’s being crazy possessive and jealous cause he saw you talking to somebody at a party. Okay, it was your ex…but still…

“You better not piss on what belongs to Snow. Might get shot.” Festus advises Odysseus, taking a drag off his joint before passing it over to you with a pointed look. It's as if he knows you're going to need all the loosening up and relaxing tonight that you can get.

Coryo grabs the joint from Festus and passes it to you before lifting his arm from your shoulder and getting up into Odysseus’ face. Oh shit! This ain't good!

This ain't good at all!

Coriolanus gives Odysseus a hard look with his icy blue eyes while telling him in a sharp, threatening tone that oozed danger, “If you value your useless, fucking life I advise you to leave and not come back.”

“You think I'm dumb enough to come to this party without having friends here? Oh, Snowball, maybe you should lay off that coke you sell.” Odysseus taunts your dealer with the platinum buzz cut. Looking over his shoulder, your ex calls out, “Vinny, Hector! Gotta Snow problem!”

“Coryo, leave him alone.” You tell the tall blonde while reaching out to grab his arm. “Please, Coryo, let's just get outta here.” You plead as Livinius Cardew and Hector Heavensbee, two rich but very rough customers when it came to booze and dope, crawled out of the woodwork and appeared on either side of Odysseus.

Looking at you over his shoulder, Coriolanus gritted thru his teeth, “Don't call me that right now, baby.”

Festus snatched his joint back from you, since you're too busy trying to keep Coriolanus from fighting instead of smoking.

“Please, let's just go. I don't want you getting hurt or tossed into jail tonight.” You beg your dealer fuck buddy while tightly holding onto his arm and trying to tug him away from the three men that he's about to get into a throw down with.

Coriolanus wanted to strangle you right now. He's trying to take care of business and you're begging him to leave. Fuck, if he leaves with you he'll look weak. He can't afford to look weak. He's a drug dealer; it'll screw up his street cred.

Yep. You're his weakness. But he can't afford to show it.

Yanking his arm free from your hold, he tells you, “Go wait by my car.”

“Cor-” You begin to protest, only to be cut off by his deep baritone loudly snapping, “Bitch, I said go wait by my fucking car!”

“Fuck you, Snow.” You spit in his face, causing everyone crowded around to let out a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘dayumns’, before pivoting and storming off.

And you meant it, fuck him. Coriolanus can do whatever he wants. Bastard wants to call you a bitch and disrespect you all cause he needs his fucking street cred, then fine. So be it. But you're not sticking around or waiting by his car.

No.

You'll just walk home. Too bad the buses stop running in Panem at 6:45pm, otherwise you'd be able to catch one. And you can't call Ashlie, your brother's girlfriend to get you since she's currently working as a barmaid at the Hobb right now. You're lucky she was able to give you a ride to the party in the first place. And your brothers prolly 3 sheets to the wind right now on moonshine…

Damnit, looks like you get to walk across Panem to go home to the shitty trailer park you live in on the edge of town.

Fuck…

Snow would be a jackass tonight.

As Coriolanus wiped the spit off his face he made a mental note to punish you for that later. Yea, he's gonna have to fuck some respect and manners into you cause you're being a brat. You gotta learn how to behave around him while he's in his element; while he's working.

Odyssey cocked his head to the side, only to goad Coriolanus with a syrupy tart remark of, “I see you told her off. No wonder Y/N is letting me hit her up, you're obviously not doing it for her with your hood boy vibe.”

Without a word, Coriolanus balled his hand into a fist and took a swing at your Odysseus’ jaw; knocking him to the ground. The drug dealer grabbed the collar of your ex’s shirt, pulling him up so that he could punch him again.

And again.

Some people gasped, some screamed and shouted, but just about everyone stopped what they were doing to watch Coriolanus beat up your ex. The platinum blonde dealer has a rep for being a brawler, so everyone watches him fight- wonder if he's gonna kill somebody with his fists.

But when Livinius and Hector came forward to join the fight and push Snow off of Odysseus (who’s nearly unconscious at this point), Sejanus pulled Coriolanus off of your ex while Festus pulled his gat, threatening to pop some caps in their asses if they even dared to go after Snow in an unfair fight.

“Thanks, Sej, Festus, but I could've handle ‘em. I got a gun of my own, ya know.” Coriolanus told his friends as they walked out of the large house that was hosting the party.

Clasping his friend on the back, Sejanus said, “We know you can handle yourself, but you need to deal with your girl right now.”

“Yea, Snow, you need to bring her home and fuck her.” Festus crudely added in.

“Creed, shut up.” Coriolanus ordered his friend. Festus was such a perv, always talking about fucking and hooking up with anything that has two legs. God, Coriolanus cringes at the thought of how many STDs Festus must've had by now. Boy’s like a walking petri dish.

“I'll catch up wit’cha later. Gotta get to my car and deal with Y/N.” Coryo told his friends.

“Yea, you let her know who's boss.” Festus said while at the same time Sejanus wisely advised, “Don't be too hard on her, she's a nice girl; you don't find those easily.”

“Yea, I know.” Coriolanus dismissively snaps, only to walk off towards where his car was.

And when he reached his car you weren't there waiting for him, which nearly gave him a heart attack. Where the fuck were you?

Getting into his black luxury sedan (cause slinging dope really paid off) he pulled his iPhone out of his back pocket and called you. It was ignored, making him mad. So he called you again and again, only to keep having his calls ignored.

He would’ve kept calling you, but the sound of sirens blaring in the distance made his blood run cold.

Fuck! Somebody called the cops cause Festus pulled a gun. Damn, Coriolanus needs to get outta the gated community before he's stopped and taken in for questioning cause he's Snow- a known drug dealer.

And of course you're being a stubborn fucking bratty bitch right now.

Tossing his phone on his dash, Snow cranks on his car and quickly pulls away from the large party house. He speeds down the winding streets and manages to exit the gates community of Capitol Estates right before the cops can notice him.

And he's speeding down the road, heading home, whenever he spots your figure walking along the desolate highway I-70: which is very unsafe if you ask him.

Rolling down his window and slowing down to a cruise, he comes up on you and barks, “What the fuck a doing walking down the highway, baby? Trying to get snatched and killed by some creep?”

“I'm going home, Snowball. Gotta walk since the buses stopped running hours ago. Why else would I be walking down a fucking highway for?” You tell the platinum blonde hood with so much animosity in your usual sweet voice that it's not even funny.

“Come on, I'll take you home.” Snowball tells you, clicking the button to unlock his car doors for you.

“No thank you, Snow.” You turn down in offer in a polite, but clipped tone as you continue to walk down the road.

“Baby, don't be like this.” The platinum blonde dealer sighed. “You can't walk half an hour late at night back to the trailer park. It ain't safe.”

“What? Like you give a shit?”

“You know I do, Y/N. So get in the car, yea?”

You looked between Snow's black luxury sedan and the stretch of open road you're currently trekking down. You decided to be a lil bitch, give him the cold shoulder, and keep on keeping on down the highway.

Or at least you planned on continuing your walk, but Coriolanus’ baritone stopped you right in your tracks as he heavily announced, “The cops busted the party, we better get outta here before they come back and decide to pull me over for a traffic stop. Don't wanna get arrested for hauling shit in my car.”

Of course, Snowball has drugs in his car. After all, he's a dealer.

You heard the sirens; saw the cop cars whizzing by too. You didn't care. Let them bust the party. Everyone knows that Sejanus Plinth's father will buy him out of trouble, his friends too. So you weren't too concerned about Snow or anyone you knew at that house party in Capitol Estates getting busted.

But Coriolanus is right, him sticking around the area's risky since the cops are lurking around. If he got caught up in a traffic stop, searched for dope, and was arrested, then you'd be stealing money from your brother and sister-in-law to pay his bail- cause you know Snow would call you to bail him out.

It happened a couple of times before.

And if your brother catches you stealing his money again to pay the bail bondsman, well…you'd probably get a smack across the head and thrown out on your ass. Definitely the latter, maybe the former.

Sighing, you relented. “Fine, you can give me a ride.” You round the car and get into the passenger’s side.

The ride along the stretch of highway that leads into downtown Panem (and out of it to the outskirts and the trailer park you live in) feels long and stifling. The radio’s on low, providing the only noise in the car- the stero’s bass booming with Coriolanus' playlist. You're looking out the window; giving the dealer next to you the cold shoulder.

“I'm taking you back to my place.” Coryo told you, his voice loud over the radio.

“Why?” Was the one word question that flies out of your mouth

“What'd you mean ‘why?’. You know full well fucking why.”

Whipping your head around to look at his profile, as he drove down the road illuminated by his headlights and a few scattered street lamps. “Actually, Snowball, I don't know why. Last time I checked, you said a couple of weeks ago that you don't wanna hookup anymore; will just do weed drop offs at my front door.”

“Yea, well, after putting me thru hell tonight I'd say that you owe me a fuck.” Giving you a pointed look, he shrugged, “Or at least deep throat my cock.”

“I don't owe you shit.” And you'd stand by that too. Snow's nostrils flare angrily and he cuts his icy eyes at you. Rolling your eyes at his temper, you remind him of why you don't owe him. “You're the one that decided to come to my rescue; I didn't ask for your help. In fact I was fine just talking with Odysseus.”

“It's never just talking with you and Odair. It always ends up with you taking him back; trying again.” Coriolanus snaps, taking a hand off the steering wheel and reaching into the ashtray for a roach. “I ain't gonna sit back and watch him hurt you again, babygirl.” He pulled the roach out and brought it to his lush lips.

“So, you're jealous?” You ask, letting out a giggle of disbelief, as Coriolanus digs his lighter out of his pocket and lit up the roach.

“I'm not jealous, just a bit protective of you’s all.” The dealer half lied, since he was jealous, before tossing you his lighter. Pointing to the ashtray, he orders, “Grab yourself a roach.”

“You gonna charge me for it, Snowball?” You ask, reaching forward to grab a roach from the ashtray.

“No.” Coriolanus shook his head. “And call me Coryo tonight, yea?” He says as you light up.

“Whatever you say, Coryo.” You shrug, tossing his lighter onto the dash as you smoke your roach.

His roach teeters against his lips as Coryo smacks your bare thigh (since you're in shorts) while telling you in a deep, dark baritone, “I’m gonna fuck some sense, respect, and manners into you tonight, baby.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. Coriolanus has a big cock and you always enjoy getting fucked by him. But by his tone, he's pissed and is going fuck you hard tonight to prove a point. Do you care? Not really.

Hey, you're getting dicked down tonight, so you're not gonna complain about why it's happening.

After arriving at Coryo's apartment, he literally tossed you over his shoulder and carried you to his bedroom. Despite hooking up with him a few times, you've never been inside of his room. You’ve always hooked up on his couch in the living room. But it seems like Snow wants to fuck you in his bed tonight.

He unceremoniously tosses you onto his bed, making you bounce slightly. Coriolanus pulls his shirt off and tosses it to the side before pulling his gun out of his waistband and placing it on his bedside table. All while you just lay in the middle of his bed, silently watching him.

Pulling some bags of various drugs out of his pockets and putting them on the bedside table, the dealer tells you, “After tonight you won't be a bratty bitch with me anymore.”

“And what if after tonight's fucking I decide to still be a bratty bitch?” You countered, watching the platinum blonde as he kneels on the bed, causing the mattress to dip slightly with the added weight of his body.

Coryo's hovering over your body. One of his hands is flat against the mattress while the other goes straight to your hair. His long fingers tangle in your hair, pulling it and making your neck crane so your face is close to his. Your eyes lock onto to icy blues, now blazing with lust and an unchecked emotion, as he tells you, “Then I'll just have to keep fucking you til you're not a bratty bitch anymore.”

Before you can even think of a retort, Coryo's lips are smacking against yours in a heated, dominant kiss. A kiss that he poured out all of his jealousy, obsessiveness, and possessiveness into. A kiss that you respond to right away.

The taste of beer, weed, and mint sets your senses on fire as Snow deepens the kiss by shoving his tongue into your mouth as soon as you let out a tiny gasp for air. Air that you'll never get since Coryo's determined to suck all the air out of your lungs with his hungry and raw kisses.

Kisses unlike any other you've ever had before.

Coryo kissed like a starving man who couldn't satisfy his hunger. Like a parched man with an unquenchable thirst. He kissed like he wanted to suck the very soul out of your body, only to swallow it whole and make it one with his own.

He pulled away, breaking the kiss, and just gave you a dark smirk before grabbing the hem of your dress. He didn't need to tell you what he wanted to do, you just knew. So, you lifted your arms up and let him pull off your tank top. Then, you lowered your arms and let him unclasp and pull off your bra. He tossed the black lacy thing across the room before taking one of your nipples between his teeth; causing you to moan and arch your back.

Coryo chuckled against your boob, only to swirl his tongue around your nipple while palming at your cloth covered cunt. The friction was only enough to tease you, which drove you insane.

“Coryo, please, fuck me.” You beg in a mewling moan.

“Oh, I'm going to fuck you alright. I'm gonna fuck you til I blow your back out; til you learn some respect and get it into that goddamn stubborn skull of yours that you belong to me and ain't gonna be talking with no other dudes.” He darkly promises before trailing open mouth kisses down your torso. Swirling his tongue into your belly button, he quickly unbuttons and pulls off your jean shorts, leaving you in just your lacy panties.

Panties that won't be on for long.

You're not sure how long you've been fucking Coryo for, but you do know that the bed's soaked, the sheets are prolly ruined, and you're in your third? fourth? position of the night. You also know that your pussy’s a wet, weeping, swollen, oversensitive mess. Also, you're so cockdrunk that your brain’s just about turned to mush right now too.

“You’re not so mouthy anymore, are ya, bitch?” Coryo asks, pounding mercilessly into your pussy from behind as you lay bonelessly on the bed with a pillow propped under your lower belly/hips. The cool metal of his dog tags drags up and down your spine as he taunts you with, “Look at you, so cockdrunk that you're a dumb, submissive, little slut for me.”

“Mhm…” You garble out, drool pooling out of your mouth and onto his pillow.

“Fuck…your greedy cunt's creamin’ my cock so good. Got a thick creamy ring at the base, baby.” Coriolanus groans, harshly snapping his hips to thrust even deeper into your tight, abused hole. His breath is hot against your ear as he dirtily asks in a husky, deep, baritone, “You gonna soak my sheets again, you dirty little slut? Huh, babygirl? Gonna squirt all over my big balls as they slap against that puffy clit of yours?”

“Yes, yes.” You nod. “Coryo, ‘s feels good and too much all at once.” You tell him as the tip of his cock hits your cervix, causing your toes to curl and your fingers to dig into the sheets.

“Yea?” Coryo asks in a deep, throaty chuckle. “You can take it, tho, babygirl. You're my bratty lil slut and can take my dick like a goddamn champ.” He tells you, a moan caught in the back of his throat, as he ruts into you at an ungodly speed.

“Coryo…so close…” You gasp, feeling dizzy from getting your brains banged out by your possessive and primal weed dealer.

“Cum right now. Be my obedient good girl and cum all over my cock right now.” Coryo orders you in a deep, but firm tone.

His rough, lust-husky voice being so commanding sends you over the edge. You cum babbling his name over and over into the pillow your head’s resting sideways on.

Your moans and high pitch chants of “Coryo, Coryo, Coryo.” is music to the dealer’s ears.

Coriolanus prides himself on how good he fucks you, on how he can make you cum multiple times; make you a crying, rambling mess just with his cock and by manhandling you into whatever position he wants you in.

“I'm gonna fuck you til I fill that tight cunt full of my cum.” Coriolanus promises in a loud grunt as he plows into you, hard and deep. Little squeals fall from your lips as he huskily remarks, “Gonna knock ya up with my lil bastard.” His fingers dig deep into your hips, no doubt leaving bruises and crescent shaped marks. “We're gonna be able to collect all kinds of benefits once you're carrying my baby.” Coryo's icy eyes start to roll into the back of his head and his balls start to tighten up as he sloppily ducks into your tight cunt. “You're gonna look so sexy all full and round with my kid. You'll be glowing.”

One, two, three more fast thrusts and Coryo's filling your womb up with thick ropes of his hot, white seed. Instead of pulling out, he fucks his cum deep into you. He only pulls out once he's sure that every drop has been fucked deep into your greedy, awaiting womb.

You're a boneless, exhausted mess whenever Coryo's cock slips out of your overfucked and overstimulated cunt. A cunt that's still twitching. The platinum blonde dealer can't help, but smirk at your form laying on the bed all cockdrunk and fucked dumb.

He climbs down from the bed and goes over to your side. Pushing some sweaty strands of hair away from your face, he asks, “You good, baby?”

“Yea.” You barely whisper, nodding with a glassy-eyed look.

“I'll be right back. Gonna get something for ya to drink; something to clean you up with too.” Coriolanus told you before walking out of the room.

You smile as you watch his perfect ass leave the room and head down the hall. Yes, you'll admit that Coryo's ass is perfect. His broad shoulders, tapered slutty waist, and muscles are perfect too. Hell, the dealer’s an Adonis crafted by the ancient gods, that's how hot he is.

It doesn't take long for Coryo to return with a wet washcloth and a bottle of water that he's added some Liquid IV too. He usually drinks that stuff after a long night of heavy partying to afford hangovers, so he figures it'd be good as an aftercare drink. You can use all the electrolytes you can get after he went hard with fucking you.

After cleaning you off, he tosses the washcloth onto the bedside table and joins you in bed. He arranged your tires, fucked out body so that you’re snuggled into his side. Kissing your forehead, he reaches for the bottle on his bedside table. “Here, this’ll help hydrate you.” Snow says, handing you over the water bottle.

“Thanks, Snowball.” You smile, taking the bottle from him. You open it and take a sip. “Ugh, what is this shit? It's not water, Coryo.” You ask, making a funny face from the weird taste lingering on your tongue.

“It's gold cherry Liquid IV.” He told you, only to tip the water bottle up towards your mouth. “It'll hydrate you faster than water, so drink it.”

“It doesn't taste like golden cherries.” You mumble before taking another sip of the enhanced water.

“Stop complaining and drink it, Y/N. We don't want you passing out from being fucked too hard, now so we?”

You roll your eyes at him and take a longer sip from the water bottle. Passing it over to him, you say, “You should drink some too since you have the stamina of a stallion and nearly fucked me to death.”

“Don't be so dramatic, babe.” Coryo scoffed, taking the water bottle from you. “You like me fucking some manners into you.”

“Of course I liked it. I'd be stupid not to.” You tell him, watching as he gulps down the water. Better him than you drinking that stuff. Too bad he doesn't have any bottles of Gatorade in the fridge. Now that you wouldn't mind drinking.

“Got work or anything you gotta be up early for?” Coryo asks, capping the bottle bottle and placing it on his bedside table.

“No.” You shake your head against his chest. “Still haven't found anything yet, but I got an interview in a couple of days at The Hobb.”

“Yea…” Coryo trails off, only to firmly order, “You're not working there.”

“Why not? It's a busy bar so I wouldn’t be laid off.” You pressed, needing to know his reason for not wanting you to gain employment at the biggest bar in Panem.

“It's not a bar, it's a honkey tonk.” Your dealer dryly corrected you. “And it's just not somewhere I want my girl working at.”

You raised a curious brow while looking up at the man whose arms are wrapped around you, whose side you're tucked into. “Since when am I your girl, Snowball? Thought you didn't do the boyfriend-girlfriend thing?”

“I’m usually the type of guy that doesn't want a girlfriend, but, baby, it's different with you.”

“Oh, I bet you say that to all the girls you deal to.” You say in an attempt to brush off Snow's words; the seriousness of their nature. Because if he really has feelings for you, then you're screwed. Hooking up with a dealer and dating one; belonging to one's are two very very different things. Things that could make your already rocky life even rockier.

“Actually, babygirl, no, I don't say that to all the girls I deal to.” Coryo honestly admitted. His usually cold icy eyes melted into a crystal blue as he looked into your eyes. “Just you, baby, cause you're special to me.”

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

205 notes · View notes

lovergirl-brainrot · 7 months ago

Text

Deal Makers and Deal Breakers in a Relationship with (some of) the Straw Hats

I'm honestly not very far into One Piece but I already can't stop thinking about it, so if this is inaccurate to something that happens way further in the series then I'm so sorry, bestie.

Some things that I think are major positives and major draw backs in a relationship with Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Nami, and Usopp that could make or break a relationship depending on your tastes.

Fem reader, one minor NSFW mention in Luffy's

𝒮𝒶𝓃𝒿𝒾

Deal Maker

He's so romantic in the traditional sense. Sanji is the flowers on every date, breakfast in bed, long walks on the beach kind of boyfriend. You guys could be married for 50 years and he'll still be thinking of ways to impress you because he's so deeply in love.

Deal Breaker

He does not stop flirting with other women. He'll do it right in front of you and not think twice about it. You're the girl he wants to devote his life to, but it's hard to believe sometimes when he still throws himself at any hot woman he sees. But if you try to flirt with other people, he is seething. He's so jealous that it makes him sick.

𝓩𝓸𝓻𝓸

Deal Maker

He is so devoted and it shows in every aspect of your relationship. There is not a single thing he wouldn't do for you. Fight for you, move heavy objects, carry you back to the ship if your feet get tired... He wouldn't admit it if you held a gun to his head, but he loves to be of service to you. He likes to feel needed. If you ask him to do something and he doesn't know how, he will figure it out by any means necessary.

Deal Breaker

Does not take your feelings as seriously as he should. If you're upset about something minor and he sees you pouting he'll tell you to stop complaining about it. He thinks it's good for you. In his mind it encourages strength and discipline. He also refuses to communicate with you if he thinks you have an attitude. He shuts you down because he doesn't want to argue with you.

𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓲

Deal Maker

She is so open and honest with you. She makes it clear that you can go to her for absolutely anything. She's not afraid to tell you what she thinks but never does it with the intention of hurting you. She is a full believer that shared joy is a double joy and shared sorrow is half a sorrow. If you need advice, a reminder of how much you're loved, or someone to talk shit with, you always want to turn to Nami first.

Deal Breaker

Nothing, she's perfect. I love women.

But in all seriousness, she has a hard time sharing. She does not believe in the idea of "what's mine is yours." She doesn't like to share no matter what it is. Food, clothes, money... You name it.

𝓤𝓼𝓸𝓹𝓹

Deal Maker

He'll do anything to make you laugh, even if it means embarrassing himself. Your smile makes his heart stop, so he works HARD to keep it on your face. If you need someone to cheer you up after crying, Usopp is the man for the job. He tells you stories that are obviously fake but he'll never stop because those make you laugh too. He's good at lifting your spirits even in the most dire of circumstances. He'll bury his own feelings that the crew isn't making it out of this one alive to reassure you and make you feel better.

Deal Breaker

He can be so insensitive at times. He never wants to hurt you, but he can be just as good at putting you down as he is at lifting you up. He wants so badly to impress others and seem cool that the stories he tells to others will make you out to be worse than you are so he can make himself look good in comparison. He'll make jokes at your expense, even if he knows it's something you're insecure about. Usopp will intentionally exclude you from some things and he doesn't understand why it's a problem. He gossips about the crew with Nami but refuses to let you in on it.

𝓛𝓾𝓯𝓯𝔂

Deal Maker

He's very fun to be around. He always wants you to have a good time. He's easy to be with and he keeps your life exciting. You're the first person he invites when he wants to do something he thinks will be fun. At restaurants he excitedly says "this is really good, you should try it" and offers you some of his food. Every morning he asks what you're doing that day so he can come along and make it more enjoyable.

Deal Breaker

He has absolutely no filter. Luffy doesn't tend to think before he speaks so he is honest to a fault. He'll tell you exactly what's on his mind, but doesn't try to say it with tact or empathy in the way that Nami does. That means pointing out your insecurities, telling strangers about your sex life, telling the rest of the crew all of the details they have no business knowing when you're in the middle of an argument, etc.

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #nami x reader #usopp x reader #luffy x reader

306 notes · View notes

mirrorball-leclerc · 11 months ago

Text

karma - part five

series masterlist

charles_leclerc and natalia_leclerc posted new stories

je vous aimerai pour toujours (i'll love you forever)

"bébé, tu es l'amour de ma vie" (baby, you are the love of my life)

siempre te amare (i'll always love you)

tehe, that's my husband 🥰

hey siri, play slut! (taylor's version)

charles_leclerc posted new stories

how did i get so lucky?

😘😍

liked by gracieabrams, sukiwaterhouse, kellypiquet and others

natalia_leclerc no words to describe what it has meant to me to go on this journey with people i love. daisyjonesandthesix has been the greatest, most fulfilling gift. it’s surreal that it has come to an end, but i have made friends for life, and memories that will bring a smile to my face forever. i could’ve never anticipated exactly how much love this show would get and how my life would change. it has just exceeded all of our dreams. i’m so proud of how far we’ve come. congratulations to all of the winners and nominees 💙 thank you televisionacad for this recognition. oh baby, look at us now 🎶

view all comments

user1 charles leclerc, you lucky son of a gun

user2 so cunty of her to be wearing red to the emmys. she owns that color.

landonorris DID YOU MEET TAYLOR SWIFT??

natalia_leclerc maybe. maybe not? charles_leclerc she almost cried. natalia_leclerc traitor landonorris and? i would too, she isn't special.

user3 can charles fight??

user4 red bull may be falling apart but charles will still simp over his wife.

sukiwaterhouse oh baby you looked gorgeous 😘

natalia_leclerc it was all you corazon charles_leclerc please stop flirting with my wife. sukiwaterhouse never you french man. charles_leclerc MONÉGASQUE!! I'M MONÉGASQUE!! sukiwaterhouse french adjacent 🤷🏼‍♀️

francesca.cgomes what a beautiful girl 💙

natalia_leclerc aww baby 💙 user5 praying for my man charles. everyone loves his wife.

user6 you're telling me lightning mcqueen pulled her?? how??

alex_albon believe me, we've been asking ourselves that same question since 2018. landonorris it's a miracle really pierregasly she is the sally to his mcqueen natalia_leclerc and pierre is the mater to his mcqueen

kellypiquet you look amazing red is definitely your color 💙

natalia_leclerc thank you kelly!

max verstappen so does anyone know who our new team principal is going to be??

charles leclerc i'm still trying to wrap my head around daniel not driving this season. sebastian vettel i haven't been told anything yet. natalia leclerc as if they're going to tell me. i only know everything because charles tells me everything.

max verstappen i was hoping someone would know something. i think the anticipation will slowly kill me.

charles leclerc good, then i can become champion. sebastian vettel not that he needs you to be dead to beat you.

max verstappen i guess we'll see won't we?

charles leclerc we will, won't we? natalia leclerc men 🙄

sebastian vettel i think if we don't know anything it's because they haven't found a replacement.

max verstappen then that's stupid, why are they going to announce it when they haven't found someone to replace him?

natalia leclerc because even now we can't get away from spanish papers. someone leaked this shit.

sebastian vettel i have a crazy idea.

charles leclerc how crazy are we talking here?

sebastian vettel i'll be back in like 40 minutes.

max verstappen way to leave us hanging seb

40 minutes later

sebastian vettel i don't know how successful i was but i think they'll think about it.

natalia leclerc seb, what did you do?

sebastian vettel hopefully something worthy of younger seb's chaos.

max verstappen we're fucked

charles leclerc don't be mean. as long as it's not another multi-21 we'll be fine.

sebastian vettel oh my god. let it go. charles leclerc as long as people still hold the inchident against me. i will hold multi-21 against you.

natalia leclerc i don't know why anyone thinks you three are serious people. you're all children.

max verstappen says the woman who's been thiristing over her husband on social media.

"how long did it take you to convince him?" natalia asked. sebastian huffed, "i almost got down on my knees to beg."

"it would not have come to that," kimi replied.

sebastian rolled his eyes, "he was enjoying it. i had to ask his wife to help me convince him. they gave me a deadline to get him on board."

"was there any other option?" max questioned.

"jenson," seb answered at the same time kimi said, "mark."

charles laughed, "oh, would it not have been great to see seb and mark on the same team again?"

"they would've killed each other," max realized.

"no, we wouldn't," sebastian argued. natalia gave him a shit-eating grin, "you still have to see him at the paddock, like every week. he's oscar's manager."

"the mini-me?" kimi quizzed, looking up from his ice cream, because nothing would stop him from enjoying ice cream. everyone at the table looked at him confused, kimi shrugged, "i read what people say. sometimes."

the conversation was stopped by kelly's arrival, "sorry, i'm late. daniil was running late and- nevermind. did you order yet?"

max shook his head, "just kimi, said he needed his ice cream."

"it's very good," kimi replied, "but i don't share."

sebastian huffed again, "i made a huge mistake."

"too late."

taglist: @janeholt3 @vroomvroommuppett @charlesgirl16 @someoneintheworld @iconicbookstore @evans-dejong @minmira95 @leanneg97 @asparklysoul @d3kstar @lollie0024 @magical-spit @gemnetjournal @rockyhayzkid @weekendlusting @ironspdy @namgification @moonyzsworld @Fall-bambi @emilyval1 @lorenakaspersen @spilled-coffee-cup @butterfly-lover @blushmimi @mgmoore @lovely-blackinnon @six-call @bingewatche @vroomvroom95 @lesliiieeeee @itscrzy @alymeddar @fletchingarcher @casperlikej @minmira95

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

click here to be added to the karma taglist

¡leclerc-s speaks! hope i didn't let anyone down with the kimi reveal, which due to popular demand, i just had to go with him. trust when i say i would've gone with seb if i didn't already have plans for him. listen, i love ollie, he is a baby, and i just had to include him somehow. so i took creative liberties. realistically this couldn't happen but oh well, poaching him and arthur was definitely seb's idea. also, please don't hate me for the daniel thing but liam lawson deserves an f1 seat and he's getting one in this story. at least i didn't get rid of him completely.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #karma series #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc

276 notes · View notes

puppetmaster13u · 1 year ago

Text

So I am rotating the batfamily, but not like, civilian or vigilante. I am slowly rotating them all having a Malone-sona of sorts that is their in to organized crime.

Like you can't tell me people wouldn't start noticing this family that the bats, the literal cryptids and monsters of Gotham, don't even touch and lets continue to operate despite taking the older crime families apart.

And to Gotham that screams power.

Alfred = Albert “Old Al” Malone I wanna say that he doesn't go out as 'Old Al' often, but gives off Godfather sort of vibes. Usually sitting there with an old cane (that definitely has a sword, they're all dramatic like that lol) half in the dark with a cup of tea or other drink. He gets to stretch his acting skills and honestly the kids definitely had a say in the persona. Old Al is something they all made together and they have fun implying so much fun shit.

Kate = Mary “Madam” Malone She definitely gives off 'snap your spine over her knee if not for the fact it would get your blood all over her clothes' vibes. Stylized nails, hair up in fishtail braids or ponytails or whatever, looks like she could tear out ones throat and they'd thank her. It's a running gag that she's in finances, even if no one in the underbelly believes it.

Bruce = “Matches” Malone I mean, it's classic Matches (though most probably assume that Matches isn't his real name) who seems rather chill until someone breaks the rules. Gives off vibes that he doesn't usually get his own hands dirty but will do so to make a point, and enjoy doing it. He sometimes uses Matches to check in on places he can't as a shadowy cryptid, and it's not like the lower income areas would fully trust Brucie Wayne.

Barbara = Madison “Maddie” Malone Now let's be honest, Barbara enjoys messing with people, she enjoys knowing every little thing as Oracle, and she definitely does that as Maddie. The thing is, no one knows how she learns about things, other criminals search for a traitor, for a leak, for anything, and get nothing. Which is utterly terrifying. Because there has to be some sort of information network, there has to be. And somehow they're so good that they're indistinguishable to any others.

Dick = Micheal “Mikey” Malone Honestly Dick uses this chance to get into a bunch of fights just for fun. Flirts a bit more freely but doesn't really have an interest in actually getting with someone. Just has funs and is known for throwing his own parties that usually end in free-for-all brawls. He absolutely loves being able to have parties that are the opposite of galas he's usually dragged into.

Cass = Molly Malone She's quiet and graceful, but she takes it to unnerving levels as Molly. Looks slim but carries guns on her at all time to better differentiate between Cassandra Wayne, Black Bat, and Molly Malone. Everyone knows if you need a weapon, guns, meelee, whatever, she's the one you go to. Gotham help you if you cross her though.

Jason = Peter “Petey” Malone Where Molly Malone goes, everyone knows Petey will be there as well. Jason absolutely adores the time he gets to do so, it's his turn to be silent and dramatic. Everyone can recognize the jagged scar over his neck, they can recognize it from corpses the Bats have gotten their talons on. Honestly he's delighted in being able to be Cass' enforcer of sorts and just have a good fight. Even if he complains about how making his Malone mute makes it where he can't quote Shakespeare like he wants to.

Steph = “Mia” Malone Ah yes, the explosive Malone. The one who has more arson charges than Firefly. Or at least she would if she was caught, but the entire Underbelly knows it was her. Steph is living her best life being able to pull all sorts of pranks and crazy shit and takes several ideas from Harley. Honestly she probably smells like gasoline or smoke all the time, and definitely put glitter in her hair. Maybe even has red hair as a Malone as well.

Tim = Alvin “Al” Malone He still goes by Alvin Draper too, which results in half the underbelly thinking that Draper is his middle name. Honestly he's having the best time, everyone knows to come to him for forgeries and less than legal identities, which he loves to create. I mean just look at how many new identities he creates for himself alone. He enjoys this type of thing, and hey, it's so easy to keep track of whose identity is fake when you're the one who made them. Plus it also lets him do good for those on the run for good reasons, a way to make sure people are safe.

Duke = Dennis “Denny” Malone Everyone knows Denny was adopted, but y'know what, I bet they don't care. And you know Duke is utterly insane, like jump off a bridge to escape the cops and create the We are Robin gang insane. And he gets to play that up as Denny. He will put forth the most batshit ideas and actually pull them off. I bet he uses his future-sight to cheat at different games and pool tables and all sorts of things, but no one can ever prove it. Because there is no proof, and the other people playing just has to deal with it.

Damian = “Mini M” Malone The little baby of the family, who everyone knows the older Malones absolutely dote over. This is his chance to act like an actual child, just with a hint of art theft. Hey, it wasn't like they got it legally either, so it's free game, especially if they weren't taking proper care of the art or a pet. He's just pleased to get to have even more pets, and that Goliath his demon dragon-bat gets to go on walkies.

Jarro = Jadan “Lil J” Malone Now Jarro is delighted to have a third mech, and is even more delighted for people to believe Damian (or technically M jr) and him are twins. Gives off someone is going to die- of fun with Mini M, and honestly enjoys being able to use his natural telepathy to be a small horror movie child that knows too much. Like will stare up at someone with wide eyes covered in blood and the others in Gotham's underbelly still aren't sure if the blood was his or someone elses. (it was neither)

================================================

Honestly I might write a oneshot or something for the Cryptid Batfam focusing on just them as the Malones family.

485 notes · View notes

shutuperce · 1 year ago

Text

your fall 2023 byler reading list 🍂🍂

BIG BYLER FIC REC DUMP cause i haven't been writing a lot but i HAVE been reading and y'all need to read these! hope u enjoy as much as i did <3

got your spell on me, baby - @astrobei -Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 7,919

TW: none

'To be fair, Will’s costume is great, now that Mike knows what it is. And, okay, wait-

“Oh, this is so good. This is so good.” Max points at Mike, wheezing. “Because you’re dressed as-”

Will’s still looking straight up at the sky. The length of his neck is very, very flushed. Mike can feel his entire face going redder than Vader’s lightsaber. He clenches his hands into tiny little fists, and says, around a groan: “I’m not Han Solo, guys.”'

THE halloween byler fic. the party at college, bi lucas sinclair content, halloween party shenanigans.

these nerds, using star wars to flirt 🙄

background lumax & their amazing couples costume, el & will power sibling duo!!!

bowie references to heal the soul

all in all one of my favourite getting-together fics for this time of year :)

what a match: i'm half-doomed and you're semi-sweet - @perexcri - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 28,150

TW: guns, blood, gore (just demodogs though no human gore)

'One month ago, if you had asked Will Byers what he’d do if Mike Wheeler threaded his fingers through his hair, looked him dead in the eyes, and started leaning in for a kiss, he wouldn’t have said this.

He wouldn’t have said he’d be staring right back into those yawning dark eyes, one hand on Mike’s waist, the other against his cheek. There wouldn’t have been any lightning in his veins or blood rushing in his ears.

He wouldn’t have said that Mike Wheeler would be tilting his head in the opposite direction, eyes widening just the slightest as if asking permission, his mouth slightly parted.

He wouldn’t have imagined it at all.'

SO SO GOOD. apocalypse post s4, background jancy and platonic stobin, interruption trope x10000 so it's SO SATISFYING at the end.

WILL WITH A GUN.

jonathan & mike solidarity <3

all in all amazingly well written mike and will being blushing messes. love them. fluff in the apocalypse.

take my hand, wreck my plans - @parkitaco - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 6,297

TW: discussion of past trauma

'"I am not taken," he says out of habit, even though he kind of is. He and Will aren't together - he blushes at the thought - but they do spend an awful lot of time together, and Mike doesn't ever find himself wishing he was anywhere else. "Will and I are-"

"Ooh, I didn't even say anything about Will!" Max crows. "Oh, this is excellent."

Mike hides his face in his hands even though she can't see him. "Oh my God. Can you put Lucas back on, please?"

Max cackles in to the receiver, the sound fading as Lucas presumably wrenches the phone out of her grip. "We gotta go, Mike," he says, laughing a little. "Max has class and I'm driving her."

"Tell her she's the worst," Mike grumbles, fiddling with the phone cord.

"Say hi to Will for me!" Lucas sings, and hangs up before Mike can protest.

Mike groans and flops back on his mattress. It's going to be a long year.'

part of a series!! byler college au, friends-to-lovers, background party friendship, AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES. OH MY GOD, THEY WERE ROOMMATES??

taylor swift title... do u really need any other persuasion

the whole series is just AMAZING. mike & will getting a break, living together at college and figuring shit out <3

i might be hoping about this - @astrobei - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 15,321

TW: none

'Will lets out a small squawk as Mike’s hand— his very cold, very freezing hand— finds its way around the blankets and under his sweater. “I’m sick, you weirdo,” he says, half-laughing into the side of Mike’s head, “I have a fever.”

“I don’t care,” Mike mumbles, “you’re warm and I’m cold. This is nice.”

“You’re going to get sick,” Will tries, for the umpteenth time, but it’s pointless. Mike Wheeler is stubborn and hardheaded and he never does anything halfway— not even this.'

established byler at college!! so yeah i have a love of college byler and this is one of my top fics for sure. 2nd astrobi fic on this list because i love their writing <3

will gets sick, mike takes care of him. need i say more?

silly goofy guys living together & doing silly goofy domestic shit

this fic makes me SOFT.

accidentally on purpose - @itsromeowrites - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 5,019

TW: none

'It starts out with a kiss. An accidental kiss. Because Mike is sleepy and Will is pretty, and who can really blame him? And then there's another one, just as accidental. But the third? Well, that may be a little more on purpose.'

literally smiling so hard at this fic. like hello. soft secret boyfriends and loads of party content, all the kids are okay <3

established byler, how the party finds out. all fluff all the time. jonathan attempts the Talk. mike has no idea what's going on. et cetera.

background lumax, lucas & dustin being lil shits together, and el using her powers to cheat at splashing games. all in all a good time!

and if I get burned, at least we were electrified - anonymous - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 14,958

TW: none

'“I’ll leave you be until lunch,” Max starts negotiating, nodding at him as if that’s a good deal. Which—considering it's Max, it is, but Mike doesn’t want to give in just yet. She sighs. “I won’t laugh about the sweater anymore. Or the weak disposition that gives you stupid allergies all the time.”

Mike’s frown deepens, but she wasn’t as mean as she could have been, so he’s gonna take it. He needs to get this out anyways, or he’s going to keep running in circles as if stuck in a hamster wheeler—an accurate representation of his brain when it comes to Will, really. He presses his lips together and tries to figure out a subtle, non-funny way to say it, but he comes up blank.

Fuck, whatever: “I almost kissed Will. Again.”

Max actually has to cover her mouth with her hand, disguising a worryingly loud snort with a cough. The teacher turns their way and stares, then goes back to explaining the exercise on the board. Mike scribbles it down while Max gets herself under control.

Screw his life.'

senior year, post-vecna. the party being friends but also little shits to each other.

madwheeler bandmates!!!

will steals mike's entire closet

they are Dumb Idiots who are mutually pining from afar

and other lovable tropes. takes place in november so good fall vibes :)

#perce reads #byler #byler fanfic #fic recs #byler fic recs

545 notes · View notes

topherwrites · 3 months ago

Text

𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑯𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾𝑺' 𝑬𝑽𝑬

summary - a witch and he-man... what an interesting pairing. (aka, jake is taking his niece trick or treating around his building and can't help knocking on your door.)

pairing - jake seresin x (fem!)reader

word count - 2.3k

rating - no smut, but 18+ anyways, mdni!

content warnings & tags - age gap (reader is in her early twenties, jake is thirty) / reader and jake are neighbors / no use of (y/n) / flirting / pre-relationship / fluff / lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: anyways, i'm going to post this then go to a halloween party! hopefully i'll get a little tipsy and meet my own jake. here's a link if you don't know what he-man looks like. reblogs, comments, and likes super appreciated!

TOP GUN MASTERLIST / LIBRARY BLOG

Jake isn’t one to hesitate, certainly not in the sky and rarely on the ground. At least that's the story he's been telling himself until the sight of, 8F, your door numbers, have his knuckles pausing just before contact. Now, he’s reevaluating.

You're the one door that he's been simultaneously dreading and anticipating, the feeling swirling into an unidentifiable pit in his stomach.

It's early in the evening, and even though he definitely saw your apartment number on the signup sheet for the building's trick-or-treating, he's not entirely sure if you'll even be home. It is Halloween, and you're young, younger than him by probably a few years; there’s probably some big Halloween party that runs until dawn breaks that you're attending.

There's been plenty of nights where he's getting home from the Hard Deck to crash, having had probably one beer too many at his age, and your night is only just starting. Some skin-tight number riding up your thighs as you pass by him with a pretty smile that has his head turning. His drunken attention captured, eyes following you down the hall.

He's holding onto the hope that you're out as he knocks, hoping that you're not about to see him dressed up in this ugly little wig and red tighty-whities. Why didn't they give him a far more dressed reboot?

His hope is dashed as the door swings open, revealing your pretty face.

You’re dressed as a witch, sort of. Really, you're just wearing a short black dress, a pointy hat, and matte red lipstick. Fairly minimal effort. But you look great and Jake is wearing a yellow wig that's basically a bowl cut, so...

Your eyes drag up Jake’s form, not entirely shy about checking him out in return, his heart picking up at the look there. Arms crossed, you lazily rest your upper body on the door jam with a charming smile. There’s a tease in your voice as you say, “Cute. Though aren’t you a little old to be trick or treating?”

Quickly, he nudges his seven-year-old niece, Mia, out from where she’s shuffled behind his legs, shielding herself from view. Her winged gold She-Ra crown knocks slightly askew as she moves.

She's shy in a way that Jake and his siblings were not at her age. His parents had to deal with three entirely fearless, entirely stupid children—an entirely different beast. His sister is hoping that trick-or-treating through his apartment building, a controlled foray into interacting with strangers will instill a little confidence in her. Her grip on his hand tightens as your gaze bounces down to her.

You straighten up, coyness softening into a genuinely kind, kid-friendly look. You glance back at him, a sympathetic pinch to your brow.

“My niece, Mia,” he unnecessarily clarifies. He’s sure his whole life screams bachelor to any woman looking.

He thinks you have been. Flirty exchanges at the mailboxes, and dragging looks in the elevators, arms brushing as you lean on the back wall, standing closer than necessary as you exchange lingering small talk.

The lights in your apartment are low. Your living room is far enough down the hall that it’s blocked from view, but the wall behind you is illuminated by your TV screen, an unchanging blue glow.

A young girl, probably only a year or two older than Mia, skids into the hallway, sliding in on her socks. She’s dressed as a black cat, with a little tail and ears, and feline-like face paint.

You turn to look at her. Her painted-on whiskers move as she asks you, “Can we play the movie?”

Your brow scrunches. Biting your lip, you hold up a finger to her, "One sec." You turn back to him. "My brother and sister and their kids are over. We're gonna watch Coraline. Would you and Mia wanna watch with us?"

He looks down at his niece. She seems apprehensive at the idea, her lips pressed tightly together as she looks up at you. He lightly tugs her hand, pulling her attention. Her eyes come back to him.

He gently inquires, "Do you wanna go watch a movie?"

She hesitates, and he's about to take that as a no when you drop into a crouch so you’re eye to eye with Mia. You lean in conspiratorially, briefly looking over your shoulder. "You know, Abby," you nod to the girl who's now tugging on her cat tail, “She's also a big She-ra fan."

Your niece waves at Mia at the mention of her name, brightening up a little at the idea of a shared interest. She unnecessarily raises her voice, like ten feet is a chasm she won't be able to be heard from, "I really like your costume."

Mia's grip tightens on his hand, but she looks up to ask him, "Can we?"

He's a little surprised by that, but then you smile up at him from your crouch, and he understands completely; you're persuasive, with your kind eyes and carefully chosen words. He thinks a siren would've been a more accurate costume.

He nods, "Sure, yeah."

You slap your thighs, hopping to your feet. Swinging the door all the way open, you gesture in, "Alright, great. Come on in."

Immediately, Abby is charging ahead, taking hold of Mia's hand and pelting her with questions as she leads her to the living room, a new friend acquired. She’s clearly unburdened by feelings of anxiety around new people. Murmurings of, Who's your favorite character? hit his ears.

You both just stand in the doorway for a moment as you watch them walk away. But then your eyes drop to his scantily clad state, humor quicking your lips. "How are you not cold?" You don't wait for his response. Continuing, voice dropping into something smoother, right back to teasing, “Bringing the kid as a front to flirt with me is kind of low, 8B.”

And while he didn't intend for his niece to be an in with you, this is sort of the moment he’s been waiting for since you moved in all those months ago—up close and personal. The thrill of it seizes control of his brain, rendering him unable to volley a flirtation right back. He’s blue-screened—a little icon circles as you shut the door behind him.

A man's voice calls from the living room, cutting off the reply his brain was working at full capacity to form, “Who’s kid is this?”

You tug at his wrist, and he pliantly follows you to the archway of the living room, keeping just a step behind you. You thumb at him over your shoulder, "This is Jake and his niece, Mia."

Your brother gives him a brief nod of acknowledgment, almost entirely uncaring about his presence beyond confirming some random child didn't just stroll into your apartment. Rolling his beer bottle in his hand, he turns back to look at what seems like fantasy football scores on his phone.

He feels another pair of eyes drag over him; your sister sitting in an armchair has, an apparently genetic, shit-eating grin on her face. She covers the side of her mouth with her hand, but the angle she's sitting at gives him a full view of her mouthed words—the persistent smile on her face makes it clear she’s aware—as she questions you, “Hot neighbor?”

Something shoots from the base of his spine to his heels at the knowledge that you've, at the very least, mentioned him to your sister—enough that he's been dubbed 'hot neighbor'. You laugh wryly, shooting your sister a scathing look as your hand curls around his bicep, warmth soaking into his skin from your palm as you drag him off to your kitchen.

He can't help the smile that works its way onto his face.

Your kitchen is much the same as his, except for the rust-colored pot rack hanging over the island in the middle. There is a pumpkin-carving station set up there, newspaper set down with guts strewn around. A few pumpkins sit on your countertop, out of the way, with already carved faces.

You quickly pivot from your embarrassment to his. "So, the get-up is..."

"She insisted on cartoon accuracy. Don't let the doe eyes fool you; she's a little tyrant."

"I think you just wanted all the hot moms in the building to know that you have abs." You pivot before he can reply—you seem to have a tendency to do that—inquiring, "Do you want me to get you a robe or something?"

"Yes, please."

You disappear down your hallway. Jake, all the while, wonders how he can salvage his dignity. He slips the Little Lord Fauntleroy-esque wig off his head, leaving it abandoned on the counter. Running a hand through his hair, he finds a bit of sweat has collected on his scalp—probably equal parts from the suffocating wig and interacting with you.

His eyes spot his reflection in the chrome of your fridge. He scrutinizes his appearance there, preening as he tries to put his hair back into some flattering form. It's not nearly as bad as helmet hair, but only by a slight margin.

You come sauntering back in just as Jake figures his hair is as good as it’s gonna get, robe and bucket of candy in hand. He gratefully takes the plush bathrobe from you, his thumb running over an embroidered insignia with a lion and a crown, Ritz-Carlton underneath. You're a robe thief. He probably shouldn't find petty theft as amusing as he does. wrapping it around himself.

“So what’s your poison?” You regard him, “Or are you one of those miserable people who don't eat candy on holidays?”

“I... am not one of those miserable people.” His fingers just barely close on the plastic of the wrapper before you flick your wrist, the candy flopping backward, just out of his grasp.

Batting your lashes at him, your voice drops, "I need to hear the magic words."

He rolls his eyes, the words coming out as a sigh though he’s enjoying the whole play of this, "Please?"

"Noo, by the power of...?"

He can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of him, regardless of the fact that you're having a laugh at his expense. His chin drops to his chest, shoulders shaking with it. He breathes the laugh out with a sigh, pressing his lips together to try to keep his smile from spreading, unwilling to let you know just how be-witched he is by you. It’s a poor attempt.

He recites the line, "By the power of Grayskull."

You seem overtly pleased by this. You smack the Kit Kat bar into his awaiting palm, and the slightest brush of your fingertips against his skin sends electricity shooting up his arm.

You hand him the candy, turning back to the fridge. A laugh lighting up your eyes, you casually throw over your shoulder, "You're obedient."

An hour later, he’s elbow-deep in pumpkin guts, clearing yours for you as you blatantly watch him, chin in hand.

It's clear that neither one of you really wants to go back to the living room yet; you're both just playing for time, trying to find a reason to stay in this bubble.

"If there weren't children present, what would you be watching in celebration of the holiday?"

"Probably 'The Thing'." Your eyes connect over the table, "What about you?"

“Shaun of the Dead, or maybe, Scream?”

You hum approvingly, and, again, he feels a little tickle of self-satisfaction work its way through him.

He’s not really good at this—the flirting and winking and fucking he can do, no problem—but the seeing someone every day, the conversations, the connecting… he’s less good at. He’s been alone for so long that it's like an atrophied muscle, weak with disuse.

But here, in your kitchen, as you pick a pumpkin seed off his shoulder, it feels less insurmountable.

It's only hours later that he scoops up a half-conscious Mia, the night clearly over with the credit roll of Paranorman. Your brother scoops up and corralls his own out the door.

Your sister approaches him, handing him a slip of paper with her number on it. She smiles. "Not hitting on you. Give that to her mom, maybe the girls can have a playdate sometime."

She leaves him with a knowing wink as she shuts the front door.

Before this night, he was attracted to you, coy and pretty. But now, it might be a little something more. Because, as he's come to find out, you're also kind and generous and funny. You didn't need to open your home to him, could've just put some candy in her bucket and sent them to the next door. But instead, you went out of your way to broker a friendship between two kids.

The hall is quiet as you open the door for him. Warm light from the sconce-lined hallway settles gently over your features. He lingers at the entrance. He doesn’t want the evening to be over yet, but it’s close to his niece's bedtime, and he’s probably already overstayed his welcome. However, the silence that falls over both of you is calm. Not like you’re just counting down the seconds till he leaves.

He shifts his hold on his softly snoring niece, dropping a kiss to your cheek. Quietly, he can hear your breath catch. Pulling back, there's scant room between your bodies despite the blockade of his niece's slumbering form. Your lashes flutter open.

"Thank you for tonight."

Silently, with two fingers hooked on the handle, you return to him the plastic pumpkin bucket. It's significantly fuller than when they showed up to your door; you must've topped it up from your own stash before handing it back.

You speak just a brush above a whisper, "Anytime. Don't be a stranger."

There's a beat of a shared smile before he turns, and all Jake can think as he ambles down the hall, back to his apartment, is, I won't be.

a/n: thank you for reading and happy halloween!

#jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake seresin x you #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fic #my writing #all hallows eve

121 notes · View notes