#you could have had Black joe.
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2.0 is boring droll
i don’t like 2.0 at all.
j’s plotlines are tiresome and not half as good as rayashki’s ideas around community, mercuria’s disco inspirations and frankly really boring new age spirituality is just kind of embarrassing, and joe’s ugly.
#i would have not found them as boring if they were not white: there were compelling plotlines that would have been better explored if it was#characters of color in that fucking boring annoying settler colony#mercuria’s a fucking white disco girl and idc that it’s magic so it’s valid the fucking new age spirituality is so BORING.#you could have had native american mercuria#you could have had Black joe.#instead we get two white folk and Zero Black People and background brown characters#WINDOWS TO OTHER WORLDS has better romani rep this is frankly humiliating#it’s DROLLLLLL#idgaf about those settlers 🤣#straight up i really wanted joe to die not cuz i disliked him but because that would have been quite literally the ONLY saving grace of an#otherwise completely bland patch
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tagged by ko @tofumilanesa for wip wednesday! big shout out to writevember for making me feel like i can actually call any of these works in progress… your guide to my emoji code under the cut
wip!
🪻🐈⬛ - the doc title is still just. YOWLING but i am like 7/8 of the way done with omega yamo fic and hopefully salem isn’t reading this so i can just drop it over a year later with no warning <3
🫃2️⃣ - DEWEY^2 P2!!!! she is almost done (i am lying) but she is so close i can almost taste it. sorry to my pwp that grew its own feelings baby
😇🤭 (🕒 -> 🕜) - rip i’m not telling you about this one until it’s posted but it IS complete aside from being ao3 formatted and the eight billion edits i inevitably do right before full-sending it
☁️💧 - cloud petey fic, which exists mostly as an embarrassingly large tag on a different blog and is condensing into a narrative about as well as water at 30° N/S. the time loop fic also falls under this description
eternally in progress (short list)
🌑🐕 - tyler borzoituzzi exists… there is an index of scenes/plot points… it plays like a movie in my head…
💯❕- fantastic! ‘verse
👁️👻 - stevie brandon seeing ghosts au, which has eight different (now nine i guess but you haven't seen the mustache adam post yet) plots. sorry
just. rotating like a microwave
🍎 - because they didn’t have a pomegranate emoji, this is what i used for the fic that feels like it should be a 50k connor bedard character study hanif abdurraqib/cathal kelly thesis about legends and mythmaking in sports and eating your young. yes i know pomegranates aren’t actually pomes and apples are but it’s fine
🦈 - the one cat da fuck they doing over there meme but about the sharks just like. in general. more on this at five
tagging @colap1nto, @songsandswords, @whitenikes, @gordiemeow, @acheronist, and anybody else who wants to share!!
#i regret to inform the public (beloved mutuals who read my tags) that we have hit the doldrums re: creativity.#got SO excited because i had no prep for tomorrow and got out unreasonably early and proceeded to do nothing 🤩 zero motivation/inspiration#anyway. being a big baby. have looked at dewey^2 for too long and now hate it which makes me sad because i was on SUCH a roll solving plot#and really i just need to pick something else from my (looks at smudged hand) 10000 other documents but none of them are calling my nameeee#maybe i’ll ao3 format 🕒 -> 🕜 or maybe i’ll read wandering stars (did finish a book this morning) and then hope something strikes me#preferably very aggressively like with the force of a train? OHHHHHH YOU GUYS MAYBE I COULD MAKE SOMETHING FOR HOLY JUMPING MACKEREL FEST#because you know what DID hit me upside the head like a 2x world champ coming from behind with the steel chair WAS BERGY & JOE GUESS WHO#joey first of all did not deserve to lose those games and second of all i am SO immensely delighted i don’t know if it’s on here yet i am#so sure at least one of my beloved drw moots (beth and nik are likely culprits but all of u would) has it on here yet BUT THERE’S SO MUCH#BERGY VERY BLATANTLY CALLING JOE A NERD BC HE KNOWS ALL ABT HIS TEAMMATES &LOVES THEM!! BERGY NOT KNOWING A SINGLE FUCKIN THING ABT ANYONE!#the absolute unsurprised yet still heartbroken disbelief & disappointment of joe saying ‘he uses black tape!’ oh that’s rent-free forever#anyway.#liv in the replies#p.s. it's fic friday now don't worry about how late i am#as always ask away ask about anything in post tags y'all know i love to yap u are always welcome in the inbox or dms#i was trying to be slightly less mysterious about all of these but i am a secret-keeper sorry and also you need to live inside my brain#in order to understand half of what i'm referencing sometimes. sorry.#also there are some un-hockey fic projects i want to do but i have. so little time in my life for anything sometimes that we will make do
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maybe bsol is that time jen tepper mentions when she was so upset about a review of a show of joe's that she broke a glass (&/or threw it out a window)
#could be anything ofc but i sure went sighhh i'll read the nyt review for science; i'm already assuming it's a piece of shit#(it was; thus predictably; a piece of shit. even the nyt rave for a show i liked was basically a piece of shit)#the only thing that makes raves higher quality is they might have actually bothered giving more info abt the show#& otherwise have devoted more thoughts & less space to just the critic's dogshit directionless griping. but barely; so#anyway i was like oh i can search twitter easily for a word as distinctive as bloodsong (except also a ship name for some videogame)#then i was like oh my god at a post from jenashtep about like oh it's the anniversary of two days in a row Events#first when the nyt bsol review was published second when i went to your apartment to make sure you weren't dead#(wait she didn't say To Make Sure You Weren't Dead she says Because I Thought You Were Dead....throw a glass situations)#like well damn also hmm....(also first thing the nyt would've covered at all i think. tbs never played in ny....or nj evidently)#one can only imagine. bsol is so [it does feel very christmas extravaganzay to me in ways. not the same lord knows but]#that like I'm riled fourteen years later finally listening to a boot which leaping into the arms of someone lifting up an Audio#same as xmas like sure i can't be like oh it's about this that the other precise moment though there are ones that extra rile me#can't say it's so obvious like i could Elevator Pitch explain to a rando why i Gasp or get weepy or just have some very special experience#plus i've never even gone lol. the way they can't stop the xmas show b/c it's a musical that just crops up a weekend a year lol#i'm so already like oh of course this is something i'm obsessed with forever now :) unsurprisingly & like it's so idiosyncratic god bless#(also unsurprisingly bloodsong seems to have been broadly warmly received; save by the Newspaper Of Note(tm) taking a dump & calling it a#day like will was saying abt tbs l.a. like oh audiences loved it local online coverage loved it just the less than halfassed review by the#Big Paper didn't & was like ''why isn't this a whole other thing'' called it a day)#anyway like hey I'm absolutely on fire for Outlaw for Not In Your Soul You Don't for Last On Land for Friendship Song to name a few#for what ended up being my proper angle of entry like oh that means a funny little villain then? (yes) like boy is that a banger alone#think thusly nominated for off bway relevant awards; got more than one nom....hey for one thing fourteen yrs later a rando can be obsessed#like that same rando cherishes the memory a livestream livechat interview where i said Black Suits Forever & they put that up onscreen so#joe had to pause like sorry i got distracted someone said black suits forever that's a line from the show & it's So that that show of mine#that never played in new york....like That's Right lol. i'm slamming the xmas fanart up to your window for year three joe Joseph the Show#(he did also see the bsol fanart which i more discreetly made a reply given he saw that Yay Krampusfucking reply last year lol)#anyway uh um. oh yeah wait also bloodsong is lifechanging sort of to me personally i'm just like. so relatively evenkeeled about it like#well of course :) & it counts as lifechanging when i get anticsful Posting. & it's lifechanging Any shows Any songs that are any kind of#impactful. speaking of like individual numbers in cabaret shows or the entire show or the album or concert or anything#as i reblog Outlaw again yelling or go god damn one Understands how last on land is the penultimate song on album#or i say to myself Whenever I Eat A Noodle; I Like To Think About The Hwheat That It Used To Belong To
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hate these kind of posts sm
#like obvs u can think whatever u want and we'll never know his actual motive cuz there wasnt enough time for takumi to write it#like how do i say this.. i get why ppl come to these conclusions cuz 4-4 tries to pass off its woefully incomplete story as a complete one#but thats what it is... its an incomplete story#whats with the scar on his hand? why did he leave klavier alive when he tried to kill anyone else who could incriminate him?#and the story never explains his motives for resorting to evidence forgery to begin with#so i dislike this oversimplification of his character bc it disregards various unresolved plot threads#and i particularly dislike this insinuation of kristoph being an 'evil for evils sake' character#bc firstly aa has never had a character like that; every aa antagonist has had a motive tht makes a reasonable amt of sense*#and secondly like 'evil for evils sake' type of characters are fine.. but kristoph is obviously not set up to be one#like ive said.. his scarred hand. him leaving klavier alive. the fucking 5 black psyche locks#theres an unexplored complexity behind his actions#hes fucking.. like takumi wrote ajaa after rfta#you see the skye sisters? u see the depth he packed into those two? its almost certain that the gavin brothers were meant to#have smth resembling that level of depth#and also this first screenshot has some outright falsities in it#theres no mention of how long kristoph has ever been an attorney for#and also theres like. simply not enough text to actually support the reading that kristoph was a bad attorney#all u have going for that is this singular instance of evidence forgery.. and wright had resorted to forgery in 4-1#does that mean he was a bad attorney throughout the entire trilogy then?#so yeah like.. we can think what we want but. ill always be a hater towards interpretations that oversimplify kristoph#** with the exception of joe darke whose more of a plot device than he is a character lol#<- on mobile so i cant move this tag up. sad!
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A firm knock at the door.
Tim, sitting on the carpet, waist-deep in print-outs from Black Mask’s latest debacle, looked at the door. Looked at the pile of invoices, photos, blackmail, and stupid little evidence baggies from Mask’s stupid little torture party. Looked at his couch, which was Evidence Island for that thing with Scarecrow last week, and his coffee table, the last refuge of JL prototypes. Maybe whoever was knocking at the door of his top-secret vigilante hideout would just go away. Or maybe they’d have the decency to bring their own chair with them. He picked up his phone and accessed his front door security cameras.
Red Hood, one arm occupied by a pair of Old Joe’s pizzas, knocked again.
On the one hand, Hood might shoot him. On the other hand, Tim hadn’t eaten lunch and it was (he checked his phone again) 8:13 PM.
Tim turned all of his thigh-piles into carpet stacks and made his way to the door, where he removed three physical barricades, three digital barriers, and four traps for the unwary. He activated his “If I die in the next ten hours, this is the last person I was seen with” failsafe. Then he cracked the door on its chain. “Sorry, I didn’t order any pizza,” he snarked.
Hood huffed a robotic sigh through his voice modulator. “I need a favor.”
“I’m aware,” Tim said. There was no other reason for Hood to show up. And it had to be something complex, otherwise Hood would just do what he’d been doing, which was texting him a casefile and sticking a “One month of no murder attempts” coupon to Tim’s door when Tim solved it for him.
Hood held out the pizzas and waited. He didn’t even twitch his hand towards his gun.
“Fine.” Tim undid the chain and opened the door for him.
Hood left his helmet on one of the hat hooks by the front door, revealing a wryly curved mouth and eyes that weren’t any more Lazarus green than usual. He even gestured to the guns at his side with a cock of his head. Leave those here too? A generous offer from a crime lord who loved shooting people.
Tim shrugged. If it got down to violence, he’d rather Hood not be grumpy about it.
Hood shrugged back, kept his guns, and followed Tim into the solarium, which was an antechamber that Tim mostly used when he wanted to taunt potential snipers. It had a breakfast nook, two barstools, a dead plant from his well-meaning decorator, and ceiling-length bulletproof windows.
Tim tinted the windows with a flick of a wall switch.
“One Canadian bacon with onion and artichoke hearts,” Hood—Jason—said, dropping a pizza box in front of the left stool. “And one basil and roasted garlic with extra pecorino.” He dropped the other pizza in front of the right stool and sat.
Tim sat next to him. “Thanks for getting my order right.” He could be polite.
“I asked Alfred,” Jason said.
Proof someone else knew that Jason intended to visit him. Jason really didn’t want to kill him. At least at the moment.
(Jason’s pizza order had changed from when he was a kid; he’d always ordered the meat-lover’s before, maybe for the extra calories. Food insecurity sucked.)
(Tim’s tastes had changed too, but his pizza order hadn't. No one ordered “Canadian bacon with onion and artichoke hearts” unless it was for him, specifically, and it was…nice, knowing that whoever had ordered the food had thought of him. Mental insecurity sucked too.)
They did justice to Old Joe’s thin-crust for a while, eating in silence.
When he only had a couple of slices left, Jason took a deep breath and said, “None of this leaves here, aright? Tell anyone I asked about any of this and you’ll wish you were dead.”
Tim waved his hand. “Duh.”
“Right. Okay.” Jason rubbed his forehead. “You know how sometimes start-up companies get successful and then they suddenly realize that they have a million employees instead of ten and that they should probably have things like an HR department and a pension plan?”
“Ah,” Tim said. Jason “Red Hood” Todd didn’t need the help of Red Robin, teen vigilante. He needed the help of Tim Drake, teen CEO. “You got your fiftieth employee?”
“I have to know what FMLA is now,” Jason said, a thousand-yard stare in his eyes. “It’s basically what I’ve been doing anyway, but there are so many subparts.”
Tim made a sympathetic noise.
“And I’ve been meaning to set up some kind of…retirement…thing…for the past two years,” Jason continued. “Pretty much since I started, but there always seemed to be bigger things, you know?”
Tim nodded. Effective long-term policy or not, preteens addicted to fentanyl could definitely make someone put a 401k plan on the back burner.
“And I had Gloria handling birthdays!” Jason said, obviously on a roll now. “Like getting cards for everyone on the day and getting them signed and all? But she had to move to Florida cuz her Mami’s getting up there, and no one else wants to get the cards and pass them around, but now I’ve got grown-ass armed adults who are miffed that their birthdays don’t get a card, and some other people think there should be cake too if we’re going to be revamping the birthday system anyway!” He looked at Tim, his eyes wild. “The whole thing is distracting everyone from killing traffickers and setting up community support systems! Grown-ass adults! Birthdays!”
“Birthdays are the devil,” Tim said, sympathetic. The Wayne Enterprises R&D department had had a brief kerfuffle over them too.
“Incarnate,” Jason said. “But also, no. I mean, I get it, some of us ain’t had people who celebrated our birthdays before! I want everyone to feel appreciated. But at this point, all Black Mask has to do is say ‘cake and ice cream’ and his goons will be able to set up shop while my guys shoot each other.”
This level of chaos didn’t just happen; it was likely only the visible part of an iceberg of underlying dysfunction. “Gloria did a lot more than birthday cards, huh?” Tim asked.
Jason winced. “I begged her to come back and she said she was tired of nagging me about the pension plan.”
“Good for her,” Tim said mildly.
Jason glared.
“It got you here, didn’t it?”
Jason glared harder, but he stuffed his mouth full of pizza instead of threatening Tim with bodily harm.
Tim flexed his fingers. Gotham was better with a functional Red Hood gang and this would get him unprecedented access to Jason’s plans, but he also needed to come out of this alive. “If I help you with this, I’m going to need to know a lot about your organization.” He held up a pre-emptive hand. “I don’t care about your exact plans for Gotham’s drug trade, but we’ll be looking at your org charts—your chain of command—and getting nitty-gritty about it. Also, I want to be compensated as a consultant.”
Jason frowned. “You want money?” He glanced at Tim’s ostentatious kill-me windows.
Tim shrugged. “You can choose. I’ll bill you a fair amount, and you can compensate me with your money or with an equally valuable amount of your time—and I’ll know how much you value your time in an exact dollar amount by the time we’re done.”
Jason snorted. “That your usual deal when you’re a consultant, or is that a Jason Todd special?”
Tim smiled his best Janet Drake smile. “It’s the exact same deal I offer anyone in the JL or the vigilante community. The Jason Todd special is when I let people roll up in my DMs for the low, low price of not slitting my throat. Again.”
Jason had the grace to glance away. “Gotcha. Better get started then. Like you fancy CEO types say, time is money.”
"Like we fancy CEO types," Tim corrected, and had the pleasure of watching Jason wince. Time for Red Hood to get his hands dirty with all the blood and ink that went into being a responsible twenty-first century boss.
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My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 || read on AO3
summary: Reader goes on a beach vacation with Joel after her father breaks his leg. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, sexual tension, blow jobs, smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair (will add more as I add more parts)
note: The devil works fast but I work faster. New multi chapter smut fic inspired by those damn new Pedro pics in the works…enjoy part 1! I haven't planned all of the smut scenes, so if you have any requests for specific kinks/scenes, do let me know!
He’s dead fucking wrong. You love your father, enough to not immediately say no, but he’s wrong. It’s true you could use a girls’ trip, perhaps even a couple of days out of town with your Dad, and he’s not entirely off about university being the death of you, kiddo – you’ve spent one too many nights inhaling coffee and cramming for your finals. The idea of an all-inclusive trip is tempting, given the fact that all you manage to eat these days is pasta and store-bought pesto, if that.
Nevertheless, you need to keep studying, there’s less than two weeks left until your exams, and although the trip is only a couple of days, you don’t know Joel.
Sure, you’ve been to his barbecues, and he let you use his bike one year when yours was stolen and your Dad refused to buy you a new one, because you should have locked it up in the first place. You know how he patched up your Dad after the divorce – you never worried about your mother, who was heartbroken, but able to talk about it to her family and friends. Your Dad was the one you spent sleepless nights over. The way the beer bottles accumulated in his garage, how distant he seemed on the phone. You know it was Joel who looked after him, made sure he left the house and had anything edible inside it. You’re grateful for it, you are, but you don’t really know him. For most of your life, he has been a friendly smile and wave over a fence, and you’re shy around people you know much better than the occasional hey kid, you back for the summer? or if you see your Dad, tell him I borrowed his screwdriver, I’ll put it back tomorrow.
You do feel slightly guilty your Dad can’t go on his trip. He broke his leg, and although it’s not entirely your fault he slipped, you had been the one to mop the stairs right before the accident. As much as your Dad was looking forward to his vacation, after a week he had to admit a beach holiday would be little fun with a whole leg in plaster.
You sigh, staring at your phone screen, tapping on it every once in a while to keep it from turning black. He’s expecting an answer soon, you know he is. Who the hell books non-refundable trips anyway? When you get the time, you’ll need to tell him about a lovely invention that is insurance.
You glance over at the stack of unfinished coursework on your desk, your laptop taunting you with its quiet – no responses to the millions of job applications you have sent out have come through. At this rate, you’ll be jobless in a couple of months, when you finish your degree. You’ll have to live with either of your parents forever, no money for any sort of vacation whatsoever.
"Oh, screw it,“ you mutter, unlocking your phone, and typing quickly.
I’ll do it. Only because my A+ cleaning is the reason you can’t go. Tell Joel to bring something to read, I need to study.
***
"It’d be a shame if it went to waste, kiddo, I’m glad you’re doing this.“
"Yeah,“ you answer, thinking of the endless powerpoint slides you haven’t even looked at yet. "Maybe studying at the beach works wonders.“
There’s a knock on the door, and you move to open it, your Dad chained to his chair by his broken leg. You’re not particularly excited about the smalltalk you’ll have to make with your Dad’s friend, but if you remember correctly, Joel is as much the quiet type as you are, and might actually appreciate your studying. Great, you think, at least one of us will enjoy it, then.
When you open the door, the first thing that strikes you is how hard you find it to envision Joel at the beach – he’s all mountains and trees to you, with his lumberjack boots and flannel shirt. His smile is friendly, and only gains warmth when he notices the critical look you give his outfit.
"I know,“ he says, voice deep and quiet, "I’m king of dressing for the occasion.“
You grin, and open the door wider.
"Come on in. Dad’s in the living room. What’s with the…uh…“
Your voice trails off, as you gesture towards his distinctly un-vacationy clothes.
"Thought you might bail,“ Joel answers easily, stepping into the house. "Can’t imagine you’re overly thrilled about this.“
You think about denying it, but this is your chance to come clean about how you would much prefer keeping to yourself and preparing for your finals, so you sigh.
"Well, it’s kinda my fault Dad was, like, almost paralyzed from the neck down, so I figured the least I could do was not let his trip go to waste. I’ve got finals in two weeks, so the timing is…suboptimal.“
"Yeah, your Dad said. I brought reading material, so I won’t bother you too much.“
He’s easy, you realize. Easy to talk to, and easy to accept your reluctance to bond with an almost-stranger, quick to make you feel comfortable by hinting at that boundary. You smile back, and are struck by how he holds your eye contact until you break it yourself, nodding towards your suitcase.
"Think this will fit inside the car?“
"Sure,“ he answers, "I’ve got a Bronco.“
You have no idea what that means, but you assume it’s a good thing, so you smile vaguely.
"It’s an SUV,“ Joel explains with a hint of good-natured amusement in his voice.
"Right,“ you say, attempting to overplay your obvious lack in car-knowledge, "SUV. One of the big ones.“
It makes Joel smile again, and you notice the wrinkles around his eyes that make his face look all sunny.
"Yeah,“ he says. "One of the big ones.“
You lead him into the living room to say good-bye to your Dad, who’s expression is a weird mixture of sombre and excited at the sight of his daughter and best friend getting ready to drive to the airport.
"Take care of her, Joel,“ he says, when you’re getting ready to leave.
"Don’t worry,“ Joel answers with a pat to your father’s arm. "I’ve got her.“
"I’m twenty-three,“ you remind your father, "I’ve done more dangerous things than a trip to the beach.“
"Yeah, but you’re still my little girl,“ he answers with a smile, squeezing your hand. You squeeze back, though his comment irritates you.
"See ya, Dad. Call me if something’s wrong with your leg, alright?“
"Sure, kiddo. Have fun, you two, and bring me a seashell.“
Joel grins at the open envy on your Dad’s face.
"We’ll go on another trip next year,“ he says in an attempt to cheer him up.
"Yeah, yeah,“ your Dad answers, glancing at his watch. "Better get going, or you’ll miss the flight.“
"We’ll be fine, Joel’s got a fast car,“ you argue, "A Bronco. That’s an SUV.“
Joel snorts.
***
Joel lets you take the window seat and plops down next to you, legs slightly spread so as to fit into the little space the two of you have. His leg nudges yours, and he pulls it back immediately, though you can see how uncomfortable it must be with his knees pressing into the seat in front of him. You move your legs towards the window with a glance at Joel, who looks grateful and is able to relax his muscles into a more comfortable position without invading your space.
"Thanks,“ he mutters, "Fucking hate flying.“
So do you, though not because you’re too big to fit into the space, and not because you’re afraid – mostly because it’s boring. Sure, takeoff is exciting, but you get nauseous from watching movies and the plane is much too loud to really enjoy your music the way you would lying on your bed at home. You could study, you suppose, but you tell yourself you wouldn’t be able to concentrate and kick your backpack further under your seat. Joel notices and chuckles.
"Finals, huh? You almost done with your degree?“
You can’t imagine him finding your boring university struggles interesting, but you’re not exactly fantastic at smalltalk, so you take the conversation he’s offering you.
"I’ve got one more year, but I’ve got to do a six month internship, and write my thesis, so yeah, this is, like, the last of my regular classes and exams.“
"You enjoy it?“
The question is strikingly honest, like he really wants to know, like it’s fine if you don’t. You look at him, his eyes already on your face, and for a second you think how handsome he is. You didn’t notice before, when he was just the owner of a bike you could conveniently borrow, when life was all skinned knees and staying up till sun-down. Now, he looks like an equal, like someone who wants to know about your life, someone you want to know about yourself. The change is a little unsettling, but thrilling. You realize you haven’t answered him, so you clear your throat.
"Sure, it’s alright. Not what I would have done if money didn’t matter, but it does, so…I can be content with it.“
Joel considers this, eyes still lingering on your face, as the plane starts speeding up for takeoff.
"What would you do if money didn’t matter?“
You shrug, and smile to yourself.
"Creative writing, maybe. Or English lit.“
"You always were the smart one in your family,“ Joel answers with a chuckle.
You glance at him, and feel a pang of something warm in your stomach as he compliments you. When the plane takes off, you look out of the window, but get the feeling Joel’s eyes keep looking at you. It makes your skin prickle, though not at all unpleasantly.
***
You get to the hotel when the sun is high in the sky, burning the top of your head and making you long for a shower and an ice-cold coke. Joel courteously carries your suitcase and although you don’t want to inconvenience him, you don’t mind the way his muscles bulge under the weight, arms straining against the navy shirt he had underneath his flannel. You wonder how he’s not suffocating in the heat, wearing his thick jeans and boots.
When you get to the front desk, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, searching for his reservation details with furrowed brows. You smile when you notice he uses two hands to scroll. It takes him a couple of minutes, cursing under his breath, and you smile at the lady, who smiles back, patiently waiting for Joel to find the right email.
"Sorry,“ you say to her, and try to catch a glimpse at Joel’s phone, so as to figure out what’s taking him so long. "Need some help?“
He throws you an offended look that makes you grin, and finally shows the lady his phone. She smiles, types something into her computer and gets out two room keys.
"Go easy on your Daddy, it’s easier when you grew up with the internet,“ she says, handing you each a keycard. You feel Joel stiffen beside you, and your stomach flutters.
"Here’s your keycards, you’re on the third floor. Enjoy your stay!“
"Thanks,“ Joel mumbles, taking the cards and handing them to you, before grabbing the two suitcases. He huffs, when you walk around a corner and towards the elevators.
"She was makin’ fun of me,“ he says accusingly when the lady is out of earshot, as if that would be your fault. You snort, all of a sudden feeling giddy at the prospect of being at the beach soon, your holiday only a couple of minutes away.
"I don’t think so, she was trying to help you by blaming your incompetence on your age,“ you say, Joel looking at you like he can’t believe what you said.
"Sorry.“ Your voice is quivering with amusement at how offended he is. "Daddy.“
That makes him clear his throat, and if your eyes aren’t playing a trick on you, his cheeks turn a shade darker. Bingo.
"Don’t say shit like that,“ Joel grumbles, "’M not that old.“
"How old are you, then?“
"Why?“, he asks, eyes meeting yours, and suddenly you’re the one blushing, your stomach swirling with something you definitely should not be feeling for your Dad’s best friend. Joel shakes his head. "Don’t start something neither of us can finish, kid.“
It’s just an offhand-comment about the way you jokingly flirted, but you feel all bashful all of a sudden. His mention of there being something to potentially start, the fact that the possibility even crossed his mind…when you look up at him again and watch him press a button on the elevator, you study the grey patches in his beard, the way his jaw clenches and unclenches as you’re waiting, his thick fingers drumming against the handle of his suitcase. It’s not what you expected to happen, but Joel’s got you intrigued.
***
You both agree to take a shower, get settled in and meet outside the rooms in half an hour – they’re neighboring, so it’s not far. You’re too lazy to properly unpack, so you just grab a bikini and a comfortable white sundress to change into after your shower. The water is welcome on your skin, washing away the grit and sweat of the hours spent on the plane, and you feel like a new person when you step out of the bathroom. You put on sandals and a pair of sunglasses, grab sunscreen, your books and notes for class, and a bottle of water, and throw it all into your beach bag, then head for the door. Joel is already waiting for you, leaning against the wall opposite your door wearing a different shirt, red swimming trunks and dark sunglasses. He’s got a towel thrown over his shoulder and you grin.
"Raw-dogging the beach?“, you ask, which makes him furrow his brows.
"The hell does that mean?“
You snort at his obvious annoyance at your innuendo.
"It means you’re only bringing a towel, nothing to entertain yourself with,“ you explain, gesturing towards your bag. Joel shakes his head, still frowning.
"I’m going to the beach, not the library,“ he answers, and starts walking towards the elevators, his flip-flops making their soft sound on the floor. Your gaze flickers down towards his legs, his swimming trunks revealing tan thighs.
"Comin’?“
You swallow, and catch up with him.
***
He’s fucking gorgeous. It’s a problem, how gorgeous he is, tan torso, swimming trunks low on his hips, bits of dark hair scattered across his chest and soft belly. His shoulders are wide, like they were made for swimming, his hair glistening as he shakes like a wet dog when he comes up for air. You have been staring at the same page for far too long now, but there’s no way Joel is able to notice your staring, not when you’re wearing your sunglasses and he’s busy swimming.
You know it’s a bad idea, that there’s no good that can come from crushing on a man twice your age, more than that, even. You know he must surely see the girl who came over to borrow his bike with tears of anger in her eyes every time he looks at you, and you know how much he respects your father.
Still, you are allowed to have fun. You’re doing this for your Dad more than anything, and you’ve been bending over backwards trying to make him proud with your good grades, so if there’s something you’re able to get out of this trip, you figure you’re at least allowed to look. And anyway, it’s not hurting anyone. It’s just natural, the half-naked bodies and blissful relaxation would affect anyone who has spent the last four months cramped up in a little dorm room.
You watch Joel swim towards the beach again, rising out of the water like some sort of Poseidon sent to personally make this trip unbearable for you. You think of his reaction when you teasingly called him Daddy, and swallow.
"Fuck,“ you mumble to yourself, when he tugs on his swimming trunks so that they don’t slide over his hips, dripping water onto the dry sand all around him. He smiles at you as he makes his way over to your spot – two deckchairs shielded by a parasol.
"Wow,“ Joel says sarcastically, when he looks at your book, still on page two. "Real page turner, huh?“
You blush, and open your mouth to defend yourself, but Joel’s expression softens, all biting humor gone, as he grabs his towel.
"You’re allowed to take a break from studying, you know?“
You watch him dry himself off, big hands rubbing the towel over his chest and stomach, leaving his legs to dry on their own, as he lays down on his deckchair.
"Easy to say, you’re not the one who has to face my Dad if you fail all your exams.“
Joel turns his head towards you, and you’re struck by how gentle his expression is.
"I know he can be a hard ass, but I guarantee you you’re not goin’ to fail all your exams, kid.“
You sigh and shrug.
"He give you a hard time ’cause of your grades?“
"No,“ you answer quickly, all of a sudden feeling defensive of your father. "I just wanna…make him proud.“
Joel smiles.
"I know for a fact you’re doin’ that without even tryin’. And anyway, it’s good to take breaks. Let’s your brain cool off and absorb information much better afterwards.“
Can’t argue with that logic, you think and close your book with a thud. Joel grabs it from you and throws it into your beach bag.
"I grant you two hours of studying each day,“ he says, and you have to laugh. "The rest is for having fun, gettin’ tan and drinkin’ cocktails."
It’s preposterous, that he would order you around like that after you told him you need to study, back before you even made it to the airport. But something is different here, away from your desk, and your Dad’s broken leg (and the rest of him, for that matter). Joel and you have fallen into an easy dynamic, and although it’s unusual, your reservations are gone. You’re actually looking forward to spending time with him, and not just because of the way his belly nudges against the waistband of his swimming trunks, or how his accent seems to thicken in the sun.
"Fine,“ you say, "but you’re paying for my tuition if I do end up failing, Miller.“
He grins at you.
#mine#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#the last of us part 1#tlou1#tlou#pedro pascal#my writing#dbf!joel#older!joel#smut#Joel miller smut#Joel miller fanfiction#dbf!joel miller#tlou fic
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THE BATMAN, JOE BURROW.
pairing⠀⁎⠀joe burrow x reader. word count⠀⁎⠀0.6k.
summary⠀⁎⠀after seeing him get so worked up over batman lore at dinner. you have no choice but to play into joe's batman fantasies.
author's note⠀⁎⠀based on this thought from last night. i know next to nothing about batman and catwoman. wasn't even supposed to be writing for this man yet here we are. warnings⠀⁎⠀suggestive but no smut, slight roleplay.
“You know what was hot tonight?” You started slowly, your eyes gleaming with the inhibition that could only come from the perfect mix of homemade margarita mix and laughter. “Seeing you get all riled up over Batman with your brothers.”
Joe raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked at you from across the room. “Yeah? You liked watching me nerd out?”
You nodded emphatically. “It was like… watching you come alive, all passionate and… intense.” You giggled, taking a step closer to him. “It's so rare to see you that way off the field. It was hot.”
Joe's smirk grew wider. “You like the intensity, huh? Then I guess it's time to show you what happens when the Dark Knight meets his Catwoman.” He stumbled over his words, clumsily.
His cheeks flushed pink as he took your hand and pulled you closer, trying to channel his inner Bruce Wayne but failing miserably as you both burst into laughter.
Stumbling into the bedroom, you rummaged through your dresser drawers and pulled out a black lace lingerie set. “What do we think? Will this make me a convincing cat burglar?” you asked, holding it up against your body.
Joe couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter, steadying you as you tripped over your own feet. “You might need a bit more practice with the whole 'sneaky' part, but I'm not complaining about lingerie.” He touched the fabric with a gentle hesitance, his eyes darkening with desire.
You threw him a playful glare, though the humor danced in your eyes. “You just wait, Vengeance.” You stepped away from him to disappear into the closet. You shimmied into the set, your confidence unshaken by your tipsy giggles. The lingerie hugged your curves in a way that had Joe's mouth going dry, his hands itching to peel it off you.
As you slinkily strutted back into the bedroom, the moonlight from the window painted your body in a soft, silvery glow. “How do I look?” you purred, your voice dropping an octave and suddenly sounding much more like the feline fatale you were pretending to be.
Joe’s eyes followed your every move, a smoldering heat in his gaze that made it clear he was dialed in. “Like you could steal the Batmobile without having to try.” He stepped closer, his laughter subsiding into a low, hungry growl. He reached out, his thumb tracing the curve of your hip, his hand slipping under the fabric. “But maybe you could steal something else for me instead?”
Your breath hitched, your giggles fading into a sultry smile. “Like what, Mr. Wayne?” You stepped closer, pressing yourself against him. The lace was cool against your heated skin, the anticipation of the roleplay making your pulse quicken.
Joe’s grin was slow and calculated as he leaned in, his voice dropping to match yours. “Maybe my heart?” He suggested, his hands sliding down to your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You giggled again, but the sound was closer to a teasing gasp this time.
“How about I do that thing you love?” You whispered in his ear, your breath hot and teasing. You knew exactly what buttons to push to get Joe from zero to sixty, and you were eager to push them all.
You reached up, your hand snaking around his neck, manicured nails scratching at the trimmed hairs at the nape of his neck. He groaned, eyes fluttering closed at your breath ghosting over his lips, not yet giving in as you channeled the coy spirit of Selina Kyle: pulling him in just to remain just out of his reach, a wicked smile gracing your red-stained lips.
Finally, with a satisfied hum, you pulled him down for a deep, lingering kiss. The laughter subsided as your bodies pressed closer, the heat between you growing more intense by the second. Your giggles transformed into eager whimpers, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as you both lost yourselves in the moment. The room spun as Joe's hands roamed, tracing the curves of your body, the fabric of your lingerie whispering sultry promises as it slid to the floor.
#&. joey b.#joe burrow#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow smut#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow fic#joey burrow#black fem reader#x black fem reader#x black reader#black!reader#black reader
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Rio's flower theory (contains spoilers!)
Some people have noticed how Rio's flower kept making appearance in the last episode, so naturally I re-watched it for the 100th time, and made note of every moment we see the flower because I have a theory...
First appearance - Rio presents it to Agatha when she crawls out of the ground
Agatha pushed it out of her hand, but it's unclear what happens to it - I thought maybe it looked like she put it in her coat pocket, but actually I think she just threw it to the ground, she would be too angry to keep it. And so we see the flower back in Rio's hands when she merrily hops along the Road. She doesn't stop playing with it even when they stop to look at the trial house.
The flower (and also her knife) is also present in the trial. As we saw with Agatha's locket, amulets and Joe's spell book, the trial seems to let the witches keep things that are important to them.
When they exit the trial, frantically trying to save Teen, Rio is back playing with the flower again, silently observing Agatha.
This continues until the campfire. Seriously, why is this girl stimming so much?
The interesting bit is when Agatha returns from Teen. Her hands are in her pocket, so we can't see whether she's holding something in her hands or if she's taking something from her pocket. But in the next frame, as she sits down to join the coven, she has that flower in her left hand! I think Rio must have put it on the seat, waiting for her. There are some interesting looks!
Finally, when Rio gets up to go after Agatha, the camera pans out and we see the flower has actually been left back on the log, where Agatha sat... What is the meaning of it?....
So in summary, the flower has some deeper meaning to Rio and she seems to really treasure it, maybe even use it as a stimming device, maybe trying to control her emotions?
Enter the Marvel promo for Death tarot card!
In one hand, we see Death holds her dagger (looking familiar?), in the other hand she holds an object that people believe to be Death's black heart. But it also reminds me the shape of a flower. So what if Rio's flower IS her heart? That she keeps offering to Agatha?
But I wonder if Agatha realises the meaning of the flower yet. In ep.1 she looked a little surprised when Rio says she does have a heart, that it's black and beats for her. It would be hard to believe that if these two were an item for centuries, that they wouldn't end up knowing everything about each other. So Agatha's "you don't have a heart" could just be a snarky, hurtful comment to reflect Rio's possible betrayal (the "job" she had to do) or a more literal fact that she doesn't believe Rio can be truly human in any physical way (no heart, no scars), because she's Lady Death. Or both. So maybe Rio hid that part from her? They certainly seem like they didn't even talk and reconcile after the dramatic events because Agatha seems surprised at Rio's hurt and regret when she tells her "scar story".
Anyway, I digress... In short, I think flower is (or at least symbolises) Rio's heart.
Bonus content - we actually get a glimpse of that flower in ep.1 as it makes its appearance even in Agatha's fake reality. Even though the camera angles make it impossible to see it most of the time, there are scenes when Rio moves her head just enough that we can see a bit of her her clip - which looks eerily like the flower!
While there was no actual flower in their ep.1 fight scene, Agatha is wearing a flowery robe and the wallpaper is all flowers. So I think there is a deeper symbolism there that the show is trying to subtly incorporate - does it all link to the Green Witch powers? Or the language of flowers?
Even Teen places a flower on Sharon's grave, where would he even get it from in that dark place? And finally, Jen uses blue flowers when they summon the green witch (Lilia offers a rock, Agatha adds a leaf and it's not clear what Alice adds - some dust or fruit?)
So... after all that, I don't actually know anything about plants or gardening. So does anyone know what type Rio's flower even is? I mean, there literally is a flower called Rio, could that be a hint or is it too simple?
EDIT: My bad, Rio is a proprietary company name who sells those flowers. But what about this flower called Surprise Lily? (also called Resurrection Lily!) Doesn't look quite like Rio's but I like the name as it would be quite funny if it was true...
#agatha all along#agatha harkness#kathryn hahn#aubrey plaza#rio vidal#agatha all along spoilers#agathario#agatha x rio#vidarkness#flower#agatha all along theory
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Bad Girl
Summary: Billy Butcher & Joe Kessler take you to a motel room where you end up handcuffed to the bed with them using your body in whatever way they please.
Characters: Billy Butcher, Joe Kessler & the reader (Female OC, second person)
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57390406
Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, No Plot, Daddy Kink, Unprotected P in V, Oral, No Use of Y/N, Dirty Talk, Threesome, DP, Name Calling, Choking, Spanking, Slapping, Rough, etc.
Notes: We're going to pretend that Joe is actually real and not an imaginary friend lol. Or this can be before he died. Who gives a shit really. This is pure filth. Probably the filthiest thing I've ever written. I think so at least. So yeah, pre-warning.
“I don’t think you had any idea what you were in for when you agreed to this sweetheart,” Joe Kessler’s voice was deep, raspy and it had you whining from where you were stretched out naked on the bed with your wrists handcuffed to the headboard. “I know you said you wanted both of us, but you can barely handle one of us.”
“And I’ve only just gotten started,” Butcher’s thick accent filled the air having you pant when you felt his thick fingers thrusting firmly into your wet pussy. It had your hips arching up toward his movements with Billy snickering out. Joe was sitting in a chair beside the bed. His baby blue button-down shirt was open to the center of his chest exposing the dark curls of hair over his flesh. The sleeves of the shirt were unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows while he observed Billy having his way with you. Now Billy was sitting at the edge of the bed shirtless with just his black slacks still on. “Lack of being pampered I think with this one.”
“I think you’re right,” Joe hummed, his eyebrow arching up in amusement when you whimpered out with the strength of Billy’s fingers plunging into the depths of your core. By the expression over Joe’s face, you could see that he was entertained with his dimples prominent from his smirk. “Hasn’t had a proper fucking in a very long time.”
“We’ll have to straighten that right up for her,” Billy decided, grunting when he worked hard to forcefully shove his fingers into your wet cunt. Your cries were loud with you throwing your head back into the pillows and a wolfish smile tugged at Joe’s lips.
“Keep it up Billy my boy,” Joe urged Billy on when Billy got on his knees above your body. Billy’s left hand squeezed firmly at your hip to keep you in place while his right hand continued to thrust away with the wet sounds filling the small motel room that the boys had taken you to. “I feel like she’s just about…” your back arched, your eyes slamming shut with your whole body tremoring as Billy managed to get you to a powerful orgasm that had your thighs tremoring. “There.”
“Good girl,” Billy praised you, smacking at your hip when his fingers pulled from your sopping pussy. With how hard your heart was already hammering in your chest, it made you wonder how you were going to last through this. “Tight little cunt this one has.”
“Mmm…I see that,” Joe dragged his thumb across his bottom lip when you dropped your head to the side. Behind heavy eyelids, you could see that Joe was eyeing you over as if he was planning on what to do next with you. “She looks spent already Butcher. And she hasn’t even had a cock in that tight little pussy of hers. I’m thinking we should stop. What about you?”
“No, please,” you begged noticing the wicked smile that followed when Joe snickered. Getting up from the bed, Joe moved in beside Billy at the bottom of the bed and scoffed. “I need this. I want this. So much.”
“Begging lil’ thing,” Billy rumbled with a crooked smile, nudging Joe firmly with his elbow. “I think we should give her what she wants.”
“I think we’ll start slow. Work our way up. See if she deserves it,” Joe moved in beside the bed, reaching out to hook his fingers tightly into your hair. Pulling your head up from the bed, he teased his lips just in over yours. Heat radiated over your lips from the warmth of his breath. It had a breath catching in your throat. The way his eyes locked onto yours took your breath away. “Eat her out Billy.”
“I was getting hungry,” Billy commented with a snort, getting back onto the bed. Forcing your legs apart had you gasping and Joe’s thumb swept over the swell of your plump bottom lip. Wincing, you felt the grasp of Billy’s hands strong on your thighs, squeezing at them to pull you where he wanted you. Going to look when Billy lowered himself down between your thighs had Joe hooking his fingers firmly around your neck to force your head back down into the pillows. “Oi, you should get a good look at this Kessler. Such a pretty little cunt just begging to be pampered.”
“In due time Butcher,” Joe slurred forcing you to look at him. The pressure on your throat was enough to make a point and you didn’t question it. Biting down on your bottom lip, you felt the rough fingertips of Billy tracing over your wet slit with the coarse sensation of his beard teasing at your flesh while he kissed at your inner thigh. “Are you a bad girl or a good girl?”
Whimpering out, you felt the warmth of Billy’s mouth pressing in over your most intimate parts and it had you shaking. Once Billy’s tongue began to pamper your already sensitive clit with slow, focused movements it had a rush flooding your body.
“Answer the question,” Joe sneered making you wince when the grasp of his fingers got tighter around your throat. Joe’s fingertips from his other hand danced between the valley of your breasts. Sweeping his rough fingertips over your nipple had you purring out and he pinched faintly at the taut bud.
“Bad girl,” you answered drawing an amused rumble from Joe’s lips and he gave you a firm nod.
“Good answer,” Joe started pressing faint kisses over your jawline having you purr out. A growl had your hips arching up when the strength of Billy’s tongue and his kisses over your damp heat grew. “Because bad girls want to be punished. You’re only a good girl when you do what daddy wants from you.”
Finally, as if giving you a reward, Joe’s lips covered yours hungrily kissing you. It took your breath away, your lips parting when his tongue gifted you with the warm sweep of it over yours. Crying out in Joe’s mouth, you felt Billy slurping at your sensitive flesh and you wished you could have reached down to sink your fingers into his hair, but you couldn’t move. They made sure of that.
Cooing out at the sensations, Joe bit at your bottom lip giving it a small tug before standing up straight. Pulling open the rest of the buttons of his shirt, he pushed the material aside revealing his slender abdomen to your sight. Attempting to take everything in all at once, you were impressed with the tattoos and the v-line at his slender hips. Dragging his fingers across his belt, Joe started to part the material making the metal cling when he got it apart.
“Fuck,” you gasped when Billy forced two of his fingers back inside of you, delving deep inside of your warmth in attempts to hit that sweet spot he had already found. Matching the pace his mouth was already delivering over your sensitive bundle of nerves had you bouncing up toward him. Growling against your flesh had you tremoring with the way it vibrated against your folds.
“See, the good thing about Butcher is he does whatever I tell him,” Joe explained, undoing the button in his slacks before firmly tugging down the zipper. It had your mouth going wet at the sight and you were doing your best not to close your eyes. “Ain’t that right Butcher?”
“Fuck off, cunt,” Billy’s lips pulled from your mound with a wet sound. It had Billy snickering and you whining when Joe looked to Billy with an amused expression.
“Back to work,” Joe ordered and Billy gave you a smirk before lowering his head back down to go back to pleasuring you. It had you moaning out and Joe shrugged. “So, as you can see, if you don’t do what I want I can make him stop at any time. Understand?”
Nodding your head, you could barely form words when Joe pushed the material of his pants apart. Reaching inside, he seemed to touch himself for a minute before pulling his lengthy cock out to your sight. It had your mouth water eyeing over his rigid manhood that had prominent veins going up the shaft to the swollen tip. Joe’s long, slender digits were curled around his erection stroking over it in slow movements.
“Now do what daddy tells you…” Joe moved in over you on the bed lowering down just enough for him to press the tip of his cock to your wet and ready lips. “Suck my cock…and you better make it good.”
Chills ran down your spine when you outstretched your tongue allowing it to flick out against the tip of his thick cock. It had a groan falling from Joe’s lips while he watched you. His left hand braced against the headboard while his right hand urged around the back of your neck to get you to lift up better.
Parting your lips enough for him to press his hips forward and sink his cock into your wet mouth had him letting out a deep, raspy moan, “Just like that…”
It was difficult to focus while Butcher’s movements were so fierce making you have to work twice as hard in giving Joe a blowjob, but you were doing your best. Drawing out your movements, you pushed your head forward as much as you could to take Joe in your throat before pulling your head back. It seemed like Billy knew what you were doing and he would tease you having you moan against Joe’s cock when the flicks of Billy’s tongue grew wild against your flesh.
“Relax your throat,” Joe demanded and you did your best to oblige with Joe thrusting his hips forward. You were doing your best not to choke when he filled your throat, pushing your head further down his cock until your nose was buried against his groin with the dark curls of hair that surrounded the base of his thick cock. Tears developed at the corner of your eyes knowing that your airway was cut off until Joe snickered and pulled his hips back. A long line of saliva trailed from the tip of his cock to your lips with him stroking his hand over his slick arousal. Giving you a minute to breathe, he moved forward again and started fucking your mouth the way he wanted and you did your best to give him what he desired. You didn’t complain, hell you wanted to be his best little sex slave that did as he pleased because you didn’t want this to end with the two of them. Even though you tried to focus, your body started tremoring again. God, Butcher was working you up to another orgasm that had you crying out against Joe’s cock. It had Joe moaning out with him pulling it from your mouth with a wet sound. “Fucking hell.”
“Can we switch now?” Billy requested lifting his head up from between your legs to wipe at his lips with the back of his hand. There was a sense of arrogance in Billy’s eyes with the way that he was able to make you come so easily. “I’d like to get my dick wet someday soon too.”
“Have at it,” Joe moved from over you sliding out of his shirt, allowing the material to drop to his wrists. Dropping it onto the ground, he kicked out of his pants and the sight of his cock bobbing about as he moved had you tremoring. “Get on your knees.”
You wanted to ask how, but instead you just did your hardest to twist your arms. It hurt like hell with the way the cuffs tightened around your wrists, but you did what Joe asked of you. Beside you at the edge of the bed, Butcher was swiftly pulling apart the material of his slacks. Unlike Joe, he wasn’t taking his time in pushing his pants down his hips. Billy was quick and fierce in the way that he did things. Once the material of his pants were pushed down, his uncut cock bounced in your face and he chuckled.
“We’re not making it easy for her, are we?” Billy sheathed his girthy flesh with his fingers, testing the member in his grasp making sure that he was completely solid. Hopping up on the bed, he carefully lowered down onto his knees in front of you and swept his fingers over the side of your face. “Here we go…”
Leading the tip of his cock to your lips, you allowed Butcher to sink his arousal into the warmth of your mouth. Grumbling out, Billy swept your hair out of your face and held it back so he could watch you while he thrust his hips unhurriedly toward your throat.
“Well fuck me,” Joe’s raspy voice was heard, the warmth of his hands palming in over your bottom spreading your cheeks apart. “That is a pretty pussy. Wet and just begging to be fucking destroyed. Look at you.”
“I told ya. And there you are wasting your time talking her through things,” Billy’s accent accentuated something of the words. A firm smack over your right cheek was felt and it made you purr against Billy’s cock. “Fuck Kessler…”
“Enjoy it,” Joe commented when he smacked at your ass again before caressing at the flesh. “Fuck, you really are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”
Closing your eyes, you enjoyed the warmth of Joe pressing up behind you along with Billy using your mouth however he wanted. Faint kisses were pressed up over the small of your back from Joe before lowering down again. Leaving you with small little bites over your flesh and over your ass. Humming out, Joe’s hands pressed at your thighs, getting them to separate better.
“Look at that pretty little hole,” Joe dropped his head forward, his tongue dragging a line along the length of your sex. When it circled the warmth of your entrance it had your eyes slamming shut and you noticed in that moment that Billy started to thrust his hips harder up toward your throat. His fingers were hooked in your hair, controlling the movements of your mouth over his length leaving the wet sounds to fill the small room with what he was doing.
Joe’s tongue prodded at your hole, his fingers squeezing at your thighs while he feasted on your body. Both men were using your body the way they wanted to and it was so hard to focus. The handcuffs were digging into the flesh of your wrists and you knew it would leave a mark, but you thought it was worth it. You tried to pull your head away for a breath when you gasped at the sensation of Joe’s long, slender digits pushing into your slick body. Just like Butcher, the forcefulness of his fingers thrusting away inside of you had you trembling back against his movements. You were having trouble staying on your knees and they both knew that, but it didn’t stop them from being rough with you. When Joe’s fingers pulled from your body and went back to flicking and teasing over your entrance along with your folds, it had you whining. Tugging your head back from his length had Billy’s cock twitching when his fingers traced over your chin.
“Come on honey, get it together,” Billy’s fingers tapped at the side of your face, giving it a little smack while you tried to take in as much air as you could. “Get that throat relaxed for daddy here so we can keep up the fun.”
It wasn’t long before Butcher was forcing his cock back into your mouth and down your throat. With a slurping sound Joe pulled his head back and snickered against your flesh. Giving you one final wet kiss at your core had you whimpering around Billy’s cock and he threw his head back letting out a delicious moan that had chills flooding your body.
The bottom of the bed dipped with Joe’s weight moving in behind you and your back arched enjoying the warmth of him near, “So many holes just begging for attention.”
The sound of Joe spitting was heard and you felt the warmth of it sliding down over your ass. Collecting it with his thumb, Joe circled it over your tight pucker and it had you bouncing forward. With a rumble of an amused laugh, Joe pulled your hips back to him. Forcing his thumb into the ring of muscle had you pulling away from Billy’s cock, dropping your head down and whimpering out. It was foreign the feeling that he was doing. You weren’t completely ready, but Joe was testing your limits.
“Fucking hell Butcher,” Joe groaned from behind you, enjoying the way your body bounced back toward his. Billy’s fingers grasped onto your jaw forcing you to look up at him. Your eyes were watery and you no doubt had spit dribbling from your lips with what they had been doing to you. “Her ass is perfect too. With a pussy and an ass this tight, they are just begging for endless amounts of creampies.”
“You’d like that wouldn’t ya?” Billy slurred, lowering down just enough to brush your hair out of your face and he smiled. “The two of us filling you up?”
“Yes,” you panted, whimpering out when Joe pulled his thumb from your body. Hearing him getting off the bed had you whining and Billy let out a sound of awe.
“She misses you already Kessler,” Billy mocked you slightly dawning a frown with his thumb sweeping over your bottom lip. “Wants you back in that tight little ass of hers.”
“I won’t be gone long,” Joe assured you digging for something in his pants before returning with a tiny little bottle. Getting back on the bed, Joe dropped the bottle on the bed beside him and hummed. “Don’t be a greedy little thing. You’re gonna get what you want. I’m just preparing for the future here.”
“You have no idea what you’re in for,” Billy alerted you with a bounce of his eyebrows and a devious smirk. Gasping out, you felt Joe moving you around where he wanted you. The way he threw you about made you feel like a rag doll when you felt his thighs pressing in over the back of yours. It had you cooing out when you felt the length of his solid cock resting over your bottom. “Why do you get to go first?”
“Because you ate her out first Butcher my boy,” Joe snorted seeing the frustration in Billy’s face when Billy curled his fingers around his cock, teasing the flesh in his grasp. “Don’t fucking worry. We’ll share. We always fucking do.”
“Come on honey,” Billy led you back toward his cock, teasing the tip over your wet lips. Sticking out your tongue for him, you flicked it faintly at the ridges of Billy’s manhood. It had him growling out, his fingers yanking at your hair drawing you to wince. Allowing his length back between your lips, you heard the sounds of Joe tapping his erection at your ass. The soft smacks had your eyes slamming shut and you wiggled your ass a bit showing him that you wanted what he was about to deliver. “You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth.”
“Aw. Ain’t you sweet?” Joe mocked Billy from where he was behind you and you could see from the corner of your eye that Billy lifted his hand to raise a middle finger at Joe. It had Joe chuckling behind you before you felt the sweep of the tip of Joe’s cock over the length of your sex. Moaning against Billy’s cock had him groaning out when Joe smacked his member up against your flesh. Joe was teasing you at first while you did your best to pleasure Billy, but Billy could pick up that you were having a hard time focusing so he started thrusting his hips, fucking your throat with wet sounds falling from you. You felt the swollen tip of Joe’s cock at your entrance when he pushed forward swiftly, not giving you much time to get used to his size when he filled you completely. It had your hips bouncing forward, a cry falling from your stuffed throat, but Joe forced you back onto him. “Fuck, that’s nice…”
Joe squeezed at your hips before he started thrusting behind you, not taking it easy in the way he pounded into you. Every bounce forward of his hips had you gagging more on Billy’s cock. A pathetic half attempt at a moan escaped the small spaces of your throat while the wet sounds of Joe pounding into your pussy echoed throughout the room.
“That’s it,” Joe growled, his hand spanking firmly over your bottom again. Your flesh was hot, burning with the sensation before another smack over your flesh drew you to whimper. “Such a perfectly wet tight little pussy.”
Once again, Joe’s thumb was back at your pucker pushing it’s way back into your ass while he fucked you. It was a feeling you weren’t used to, but by the sounds Joe was making behind you, you would have let him do anything. In fact, you moaned like the perfect little slut they wanted you to be. God, what you would have given to touch both of them. To feel the flexing of their muscles while they had their way with you.
“Oi, let me try,” Billy pulled at your hair, getting you from his cock and you panted for air. Tugging you forward had Joe’s length pulling from your wet core. You hated that empty feeling it left you with. Billy dropped down on the bed, managing to get you on your knees over him. Your hands were braced against the headboard when Billy reached between the two of you to thrust his hips up sinking his manhood into your tight canal. “Fucking hell…”
“Told you,” Joe’s breath was warm against the side of your neck when he kissed over your jawline from where he was on his knees behind you. Joe’s erection was pressed against your back while Billy pounded into you from below. His hips bouncing up toward you filling you again and again with his length. Curling his fingers firmly around your throat, Joe urged you to tip your head back while your cries and moans filled the air. Covering your lips with his, Joe feverishly kissed you, his tongue brushing past your lips to flick against yours. Sucking faintly at his tongue had him growling out, the grasp of his fingers around your throat growing stronger. Mewling out, you felt your whole body shaking with the way that Billy was smacking up against you, his testicles slapping up against your ass with every thrust. “Enough.”
Curling his arm around your waist, Joe lifted you enough to pull you from Billy’s cock. Joe kept his finger wrapped around your throat, having your head tip back against his shoulder. His other hand reached down to lead his cock back into you with a loud smacking sound. Between Billy and Joe they were filling you and stretching you in ways that you could never imagine.
Crying out, you closed your eyes while Billy’s hands caressed up and over your sides. There was a big difference between Billy’s hands and Joe’s hands. Billy’s fingers were rougher, scratching at your flesh while Joe’s fingers were softer. You could tell that one worked more in the field and the other did more of the directing. Billy’s palms squeezed at your breasts, his fingertips circling your nipples.
“Gorgeous set of tits really,” Billy grunted, his hot wet kisses tampering off over your breasts. Once his mouth surrounded your breast, it had you crying out into Joe’s mouth. Joe wasn’t wasting a moment with you, having you the way he wanted. Filling you completely, having you shake with every forceful thrust upward he made behind you. Twisting his tongue around your nipple, Billy nipped at the flesh before sliding out from under you. “My turn.”
You whined. You felt like Joe had been hitting all the right areas inside of you to lead you right to the edge of an orgasm, but Billy didn’t give you the time to reach it. And that ached. Bad. Joe snickered, pulling his hips back and you felt Billy forcing you down onto your back again. Breathing loudly, you could feel your heart pounding away inside of your chest. Your body wasn’t used to all of this and all of this at once.
Crawling in over you, Billy settled himself between your thighs after forcing them open. Hooking his arms around your shoulders, Billy held tightly to you when he looked between the two of you. Lining his solid dick up, he thrust firmly forward which had you bouncing upward on the bed. Every thrust was rough, causing the bed to squeak with every movement he made over you. The headboard was smacking against the wall loud. It made you wonder if anyone else was in the rooms near you. If there was, there was no question what was happening in here.
“Look at that face,” Joe sat on the edge of the bed. Your face was hot. You knew you looked spent and he was completely amused. Billy gave you a few wet, sloppy kisses, but you liked the way they felt. You liked the contrast between Joe and Billy. Sucking at his bottom lip, Joe seemed to enjoy watching Billy fucking you with the way that he was watching the two of you. Joe’s cock twitched with anticipation when he smacked at Billy’s shoulder. “Don’t be greedy Butch.”
“Fine,” Billy scoffed, dropping his head back, pulling himself up and away from you which had you whimpering out. Again, you felt like you were cheated out of an orgasm. There was a tingling at your core, you were soaking wet and the boys knew what they were doing with you. It felt like a game at this point. Billy threw his hand out and pointed down at you. “Have at it.”
“Thank you,” Joe shook his head, licking his lips when he looked you over. “I can see by the desperation in your eyes you want to come. So bad. Don’t you?”
Joe traced his fingertips over the length of your folds, collecting your slick onto his fingers before he traced his fingers back down. It had you nodding, your hips bouncing up toward his touch when he snorted, another amused rumble falling from his throat, “Can you squirt?”
You could barely form words when Joe grunted and moved in over you on his knees. Urging your legs up over his shoulders had your ass lifting from the bed and he braced himself with his left hand settling beside your hip. Using his right hand, Joe reached down to lead his throbbing erection swiftly back into your body. With a smack forward it had you crying out and an arrogant smile pulled at Joe’s lips.
“Feel good?” Joe slurred, his eyebrows furrowing when he braced his right hand beside your other hip to balance his weight. Nodding, your lips parted and you whimpered. In this position Joe filled your right up to the brim. It had you feeling fuller than ever and your hips involuntarily arched up because you wanted more. It had his long eyelashes fluttering with him taking in a sharp breath of air showing that he liked it. It was like he was cherishing the sensation of the warm walls of your core surrounding him before he started rolling his hips. Each movement Joe made, he was paying close attention to how you reacted. The bed dipped with Billy laying down beside you, his kisses pressing in over your shoulder. Once Joe found a position he liked, his eyes were focused on his cock starting to piston inside of you. Joe’s jaw flexed, the lines in his forehead growing with his moans becoming louder.
“Joe,” you cried out and it had Billy tsking in your ear, his fingers grasping tightly to your jaw while your hands tremored in the position they were in. Your arms were going numb with how they had them handcuffed to the bed. The pleasure overpowered the pain with the tip of Joe’s cock hitting all the right places inside of you. It had you shaking, your hips quivering with you arching up close to him wanting him to keep doing what he was. There was a rush going to your head and you bit down on your bottom lip.
“Keep it up Kessler. Looks like this one is about to burst,” Billy praised Joe with the smacks of Joe’s flesh against yours setting a steady rhythm. Sliding his palm down your abdomen, Billy’s fingers centered in over your clitoris circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. It had you crying out their names. A proud laugh fell from Billy’s throat. Behind heavy eyelids you could see the determined expression over Joe’s face when you wailed out, pulling your hips back and away from Joe. A hot liquid warmth rushed to your core and your whole body shook. An amused breath fell from Joe with him licking his lips. “She is a squirter. Well lucky us.”
“Fuck,” you tremored, your throat tensing up when Joe moved off the bed and ran his fingers over the wet lengths of his lower abdomen. Sitting at the top of the bed beside you, Joe propped his back up against the headboard when Billy swiftly got up onto his knees. Once again he had you flipping over onto your stomach. Adjusting your bodies, Joe had you laying over him when Billy moved in over you. Your head rested against Joe’s abdomen with his fingers stroking at your shoulders. Forcing your legs together, Billy rest his knees beside your thighs and reached down to forcefully shove his thick cock back into you. It had you sobbing out. You were so fucking sensitive as it was and Billy wasn’t going to give you a break. No, now that Joe had managed to make you squirt by focusing purely on your g-spot, Billy was going to do the same. Rough, powerful thrusts followed with your face burying further against Joe’s lower abdomen. “Billy…please.”
“Nah, no. Butcher is doing a great job,” Joe hushed you, stroking his fingers over the side of your face. It led you to start pressing faint kisses over the area under Joe’s navel and it had him smiling. “Let him do what he wants with your pussy. You won’t regret it.”
“It’s almost like a challenge you see. If he can do it, I know I can too,” Billy grunted in your ear, his mouth pressing in over your shoulder while biting at your flesh. Adjusting his hips, Joe curled his fingers around the base of his lengthy cock and teased the tip of it over your bottom lip. Parting your lips allowed him to start thrusting his hips up in lazy movements. You tasted yourself on him while he surprisingly praised you. Every plunge of Billy’s cock inside of you had you crying out against Joe’s flesh, but by his moans you realized he liked the way it vibrated against his manhood. By Billy’s loud breaths, you could tell he was determined and he was getting there with wanting to make you squirt too. That same familiar fire flooded through your veins, but this time you couldn’t pull away. All you could do was pull your mouth away from Joe’s length, burying your face against the center of Joe’s chest when Billy swiftly pulled his hips back and a wet sound followed. “Fucking Perfect.”
“I think it’s time for the finishing touches,” Joe allowed you to lay over him while he stroked his fingers over your shoulders. Curling his finger under your chin, he persuaded you to tiredly lift your head from his chest. “You can take both of us at the same time, right? You want to be our perfect little slut and make us happy?”
“Of course she does,” Billy retorted from behind the two of you going back to kissing over your shoulders. “If she wants to keep this whole thing up, I know she can handle it. Ain’t that right sweetheart?”
Licking your lips, you knew that your body was already exhausted. You had been ran through incredible amounts of euphoric pleasure time and time again. Pushed to the brink, but when it came to these two, you were willing to do anything. Nodding slowly had Joe’s smile growing and he tipped his head down. The light from the motel room brought attention to the scar that went down the side of his face. You had always been attracted to both Joe and Billy. But now even more so with the way their bodies showed how they went to war in the past.
The bed went cold with both Joe and Billy getting up from the bed. Shocked, you felt one of them unhooking your wrists from the headboard. You didn’t think they were going to let you have your hands. Out of the corner of your eyes you could see them talking. Pulling your wrists closer to your body allowed you to observe them. Your skin was raw and red.
“I’ll play you for it,” you heard Billy stammer and it had Joe chuckling. Turning your head, you watched Billy hold out his fist. It looked like the both of them were doing rock, paper, scissors as if trying to figure out who was going to go where. When they got to three, Joe beat Billy with paper when Billy picked rock. “Best outta three?”
Rolling his eyes, Joe allowed them to play again with Joe winning the second time, “I know the way you think Butcher.”
“Alright you fucking wanker. You win. But it’s mine next time,” Billy declared dropping down to the edge of the bed before laying down. Urging you in over him took time. You weren’t moving all that well. You were weak and rightfully so. Now Billy was kissing you this time more focused, gentle. It surprised you.
“Here we go,” Joe got on the bed behind you, grabbing your waist and pulling you up to your knees. It had you gasping out, but Billy had your face cupped in his hands with him nibbling at your bottom lip. “I’m gonna get you ready. Cus’ while we’re assholes, we’re not fucking assholes.”
“Yes you are,” Billy snickered, his lips pressing over the side of your neck to your jawline where he bit. It had you whimpering and you heard the sound of a bottle being opened. Soon the slick, cool fluid began to slide between your flesh over your ass hearing Joe let out a proud sound.
Closing the bottle up, Joe tossed it back beside you and you felt him squeezing at your cheeks, testing the flesh as if to relax you. Tracing his fingers over your body, Joe collected the lube that he had poured and you felt him prodding at your tight hole. It had your eyes slamming shut tightly when you felt his finger pressing inside of you. This time he was slower, working to open you up for him when he added a second finger.
“You’re working your way to the good girl label,” Joe commented, his lips pressing between your shoulders. Billy’s hands curled around your body, smacking firmly at your ass which had it bouncing back toward Joe while he thrust his finger inside of your tight canal. Working a second finger in had you grabbing tightly to Billy. Your fingers sank into Billy’s flesh, the nails breaking the skin, but by the sound that he made he liked it. “Your perfect little ass was made for this. Y’know that?”
“He has me all jealous and shit,” Billy snorted, his brow line creasing when Joe reached for the bottle again after pulling his fingers from your body. It had you panting, clinging tightly to Billy like you wouldn’t let go. You had to brace yourself and prepare for what was going to happen. Looking over your shoulder, you watched Joe pour a significant amount of lube into his hand before coating his cock with it. Slick sounds fell from his hand jerking off his throbbing length. Crawling toward you, Joe pressed into your hips to get them lowered slightly with your ass in the air. “I thought we were sharing.”
“Let me get her used to it first and then we will share,” Joe snapped, his fingers digging into your hips when you felt the swollen tip at your tight pucker. Clenching up had Joe hushing you his lips kissing at your shoulder with the warmth of his body radiating against your back. “Clenching is going to make it hurt. I’m not trying to hurt you here. So fucking relax.”
Doing as you were told, you tried to get your body to loosen up. In that moment, Billy was caressing at your body, his mouth demanding kisses from yours. You wanted to focus on the kisses, but you heard the slight popping sound of Joe successfully sinking the tip of his manhood into your tight hole.
Don’t tense up. You had to repeat that to yourself as you buried your head against the side of Billy’s neck. Cradling your head, Billy hushed you with Joe urging the rest of his lengthy cock inside of you. You felt full. It ached, but you didn’t want him to leave. An involuntary moan fell from your throat.
“Fuck me,” Joe bit at your earlobe, his nose nuzzling against the side of your face when he filled you completely. “Your tight little ass feels like it was made just for me.”
Bracing his hands, Joe took his time pulling his hips back and then thrusting forward. It surprised you that he was taking his time to open you up and get you used to this whole thing. His moans were pretty loud and you bit down on your bottom lip.
“You’re going to creampie her before we even get started,” Billy scoffed with the weight of both you and Joe over him. “Now who is being the greedy fucking one.”
“Stop bitching,” Joe snarled, reaching out to smack his hand at the side of Billy’s face which seemed to enrage him a bit. “You don’t want to rip the poor girl in half. You’ll get what you want you jackass.”
Gradually Joe’s thrusts stopped and you felt him pull from your body which had you whining out, “I know, I know. You want me balls deep in that pretty little ass of yours, but we have to please Butcher here too before he loses it.”
“Fuck you wanker,” Billy scoffed with Joe trying to get you up onto your knees. You were weak, your hands pressing in over Billy’s chest.
“We need your hips to stay up so Billy can fuck you from below while I do it from behind,” Joe’s words vibrated against your flesh and you lowered your upper half. Bracing your weight over Billy’s body, you felt Billy grabbing your hips. With a firm smack upward, Billy was back inside of your already dripping cunt. It had him growling out, his teeth biting at your neck undoubtedly leaving marks. “And now…”
Billy was holding you in place when Joe adjusted his legs. You felt the hair from his thighs pressing against the back of your thighs when he pressed in behind you. There was that bulbous tip back at your tight pucker again. This time he wasn’t as gentle as before. Sinking his cock into you with a firm upward thrust had you crying out. Having the both of them inside of you left you feeling fuller than you ever had.
“Have you ever had a double creampie darlin’?” Billy muttered, his head lifting up to press kisses over your breasts that were in his face. With a nip it had you crying out and he let out an excited breath. “We’re going to have our spunk dripping out of both of your holes.”
“Good girl,” Joe reached around you to palm up over your body, squeezing at the breast that Billy’s tongue wasn’t currently circling. Starting to roll his hips, Joe was smacking up against your ass with his slender hips while Billy desperately started to thrust up toward you. Their movements were uneven at first and it had you breathless. Clinging to whatever you could. After a while they seemed to find a matched tempo that you actually quite enjoyed. You felt both of their testicles smacking up against your flesh. It was a good thing they were friends because everyone was touching everyone at this point. “You were made for this.”
Hearing both Joe and Billy’s moans had chills filling your body. This was incredible. This was everything you dreamt of and more. You knew you would be feeling it for a long time, but you didn’t care. They both marked you and you would wear those marks with pride.
“Beautiful little slut, ain’t ya?” Billy smacked a bit firmer than he did previously at the side of your face before claiming your lips in a hungry kiss again. You were shaking between the both of them. A variation of cries and moans falling from you while they both absolutely had their way with fucking you. Gasping out, you felt Joe’s fingers back at your neck with the pressure that he had placed on it earlier. “Look at you.”
Faint smacks at your clit were felt with Billy smirking a wickedly entertained smile. Your hips were tremoring between the both of them. You were all covered in sweat. This was the dirtiest, naughtiest thing you had ever done and they were letting you know that.
“Are you going to come?” Joe’s fingers were still tight on your throat when you started moaning louder. You could only nod slightly. You wanted to come and you were close to it. You could tell with how good everything felt. That same fire was building inside of you and you felt faint. “Do you like having both of our big cock’s inside of you at the same time?”
“Yes daddy,” you could barely get your words out, your head light from both the pressure of his fingers around your throat and the oncoming orgasm that you were about to have. “I love it. So much.”
“Does your tight lil’ cunt and ass belong to us?” Billy wanted an answer while his fingers were more determined to match the tempo their cocks were setting inside of you.
“Answer him?” Joe demanded with a firm tug, his words hot against your ear making you wince.
“It belongs to both of you,” you promised them, your eyes slamming shut with how powerful Billy’s thrusts seemed to get beneath you.
Billy’s moans were constant when you felt the first twitch of his cock inside of you. He seemed to hold you still, his nails now digging into your flesh while he pumped you full of his cum. You felt it seeping down your inner thighs, enjoying the sight of Billy’s pleasured filled face with his head tipped back into the pillows. His jaw was flexing, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes closed tightly. Billy’s lack of movement only seemed to make Joe’s movements harder. Joe’s breathing loud and hot against your flesh. A small bit of energy filled you. You wanted that orgasm that they were both working up inside of you. It had you bouncing back toward Joe’s thrusts, while still pulling back and forth enough to use Billy’s cock the way you needed it.
“That’s it,” Joe sounded pleased with you and Billy lifted his head to watch you fucking yourself over his cock and Joe’s. With a wail, you felt your thighs tremoring. Your whole body shaking with the euphoric sensation flooding your veins. Your heart was pounding in your chest. With Joe’s fingers still curled tightly around your throat, it seemed to enhance your orgasm all the more. “Fuck…”
Joe’s moans grew louder, his thrusts more prominent and harder. It had you bouncing forward with Billy’s moans still matching yours. With a dominant thrust over you, you felt the warmth of Joe’s release inside of you, his damp chest pressing firmly against your back lowering you closer to Billy. With a few final thrusts, Joe’s hips finally came to a stop and he laughed against your jawline. Finally releasing your neck had you inhaling sharply. The room was spinning. Your vision was slightly blacked over, but in time came back to you. Both men were still inside of you, holding onto you like they weren’t going to let go.
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Billy was the first to say something, smacking at your hip before lowering his hips. The sensation of his cum sliding down your body was felt with some of it dripping onto his lower abdomen. If anything? Billy was proud of it.
A faint kiss was pressed against your temple as Joe grunted, straightening his body to get back to his knees. His fingers squeezed at your ass cheeks, spreading them when he took his time pulling his softening cock from your tight canal. Once he did, you heard the wet sound that followed by the proud rumble from Joe’s throat.
“Watching our cum oozing out of your pretty little holes turns me on all over again,” Joe claimed, hissing out when he squeezed at your flesh. You felt his cum sliding down over your folds before dripping from your body. Tapping your hip, Joe suggested you to lay down and you fell in over Billy who grunted. Falling in beside you, Joe’s chest was rising and falling while he tried to catch his breath.
“You okay there old man?” Billy mocked Joe, kissing at your shoulder after. Gazing over Joe, you saw his softening cock resting at his lower abdomen, twitching slightly and it took your breath away. Between Billy and Joe you didn’t know where you wanted to be.
“Fuck you,” Joe scoffed, rolling over onto his side curling his arm around you to pull you closer so that you were between the both of them. Joe’s hand caressed over your thigh, his lips kissing at the side of your neck while Billy kissed at the opposite. Between their rough beards, it had you purring out. You enjoyed the pampering that came after that welcomed abuse you went through between them. “You did good. Very good.”
“I hope it was everything you wanted,” Billy breathed out, a laugh falling from his throat when he stretched his hand out over your breasts to drag it across your flesh. “Because the next time? It’s gonna be so much more intense than this.”
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𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣
a star on top…
boyfriend!joe x fem!reader
summary: joe helps you put up your christmas decorations… and a star on top completes all the scenery ;)
warnings: nsfw mdni!!! kinda sweet smutty fluff, riding, p in v (wrap yo willy!!), lots of kissing and cheesiness
word count: 2k.
note: ALAS! i made it in time. if it sucks i’m sorry. i listened to a nonsense christmas by sabrina carpenter, music for a sushi restaurant and santa baby by ariana grande & liz gillies while writing 🤍 (please appreciate the spongebob joke in the summary hehe)
you’d think six boxes full of christmas decorations would be enough for just two people. joe dragged them out of storage one by one so you could go through them and arrange them how you wanted, but here you were elbows deep in the fourth box while you chatted to him about more stuff you needed.
he wasn’t mad, not by any means, he actually found it cute how much you loved to decorate… but jeez. did anyone need this much stuff? anyone in the world?
“i realllllly need them joe!” you exaggerated, earning a sarcastic eyeroll from him. “they’re flocked nutcrackers! and they come in white, pink, red, black… and i even saw a disco ball nutcracker, and…”
joe crossed the room quickly and silenced your ranting with a kiss. “bub, i promise, this weekend we’ll go find the nutcrackers, okay? for now, let’s decorate with what we do have.”
you looked up at him with big, puppy dog eyes. he was right, you needed to use what you had. “sorry for sounding like a spoiled brat.” you apologized, looking down at your decorations in defeat. joe chuckled at your reaction.
you continued pulling things out of the boxes, there was an endless amount of garland and strings of lights. you set aside the garland and lights for the banister of the stairway, the set that went outside, and the final set that went across the mantle. joe finally began digging inside a box, pulling out a bunch of tiny christmas houses and store-fronts wrapped in newspaper.
it was a village set that once belonged to your mother, but now belonged to you. you quietly reminisced on hours you’d spend with your sister imagining tiny people living in the christmas village, what they did for work and how they spent their life. you two always had the wildest imagination. a smile crept across your face as you watched joe unwrap them and place them in the exact order you liked. to be loved is to be known.
you took a box to the kitchen next, getting out all of your christmas themed hand towels to set aside for washing, and placing all of your kitchen trinkets in their designated areas. joe finished with the village and started working on decorating the banister. the sight of him decorating was enough to make you feel emotional, you didn’t ask or expect him to help.
he always just did it.
you kept your eyes trained on him, watching as he worked. he wrapped the garland and lights so carefully before plugging them in to admire them. you smiled at him as walked down the stairs, happy with how it turned out. “looks great, babe!” you assure him as he pulls you in for a sweet hug. he kisses your forehead before looking around the kitchen at all the things you’d placed around.
there was a mischievous glint in his eye as he looked at your favorite cookie plate that sat empty in the corner of the counter. “soooo…. you gonna bake some cookies for us?” he asked teasingly, tickling at your sides gently with his fingertips.
“mhm. what kind do you want?”
“chocolate chip, chocolate brownie… maybe some of those chai cookies you made a few weeks ago. and something pumpkin if you can?”
“you got it, babe!” you replied. you pulled him down for a sweet kiss, resting your arms around his shoulders as his hands found your hips. joe pulled away after a minute.
“i’m gonna finish up on the garland and lights, that way when you’re done we can do the christmas tree together.” he said, grabbing another set and heading to the porch to wrap them around the rails just like he did inside.
you finished placing your decorations around the kitchen and you put a few in the guest bathroom too just to feel extra festive. you always enjoyed changing the toothbrush holders to holiday themed ones, and changing out your throw blankets for the holidays, you could go on… being festive was something you were insanely good at.
joe always helped you decorate, even though he sometimes had a grinchy reputation. you watched him finish up outside through the window, and when he came back in the tip of his nose was red. he pulled his beanie down a bit farther over his red ears and you chuckled.
you didn’t let him get too far in the door before jumping into his arms, and he held you close to suck up some of your warmth. you placed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, then to the corners of his eyes, and then to both cheeks. joe smiled up at you.
he let you down gently and walked over to the giant box that sat in the corner. he opened it up and began taking out the christmas tree pieces and you grabbed the base, opening it up and placing it where you wanted it to go. one by one you pieced the tree together.
it took a while to fluff the tree, but since you were both working on it, it took a lot less longer than you expected. joe helped you wrap the silver-white lights around it carefully, and then you hung silver and gold ornaments all around it.
you stepped back and admired your work, shimmying and doing a little happy dance as you took in all the decorations around you. everything was perfect, and aside from a few treat-related things, you were essentially done decorating.
joe reached his hand into the final box and pulled out the last decoration, the tree topper. it was a glittery silver star. you suddenly remembered the height of the tree. last year joe had to finish decorating it, and you weren’t sure how he got the star up there.
“you need me to get you a step stool?” you asked him, already turning to head for the garage. “nah,” he responded quickly. “come back, i have a better idea.”
you walked over to him slowly, recognizing that mischievous glint in his eye. “joey…” you start, your eyes widening. he crouches down in front of you, smirk pulling across his face. “get on my shoulders.”
“hell no! what if i fall?” you ask incredulously. you couldn’t believe he was suggesting this… but then again, yes you could. “get on, it’ll be quick. you just have to put the star on!”
you roll your eyes at him. “fine. but if i get hurt then i’m gonna be really mad. and if i die i’m haunting you.”
“i’m looking forward to that.” he jokes, laughing as you gently kick his shin. “what? then you’d be able to see my every move. and watch me when i’m naked. ghost perv.”
you laugh incredibly loud at his joke before throwing your leg over and sitting on his shoulders. suddenly, you felt like a kid again, riding on someone’s shoulders on a hot summer day. you weren’t surprised joe could carry your weight, of course he could. you were more worried about your coordination and afraid you’d topple the tree over almost instantly.
joe handed you the tree topper as he stood, his hands holding a firm grip on your thighs. he walked forward slowly until he was directly in front of the tree, and you leaned over and placed the topper on with ease. you were happy that it went so well, because you were honestly scared shitless. joe backed up a bit and crouched again so you could hop off his shoulders.
you did another victory dance, giddy at how beautiful your decorations looked. joe scooped you up into his arms quickly, laughing into your neck as he began to press kisses to your column.
“you’re so cute.” he said with mirth, walking over to the couch and plopping down with you on his lap. you grabbed his face and pressed your lips to his, kissing him lazily as his hands slipped under your sweater and roamed over the expanse of your back. the sounds of your smacking lips and laboured breaths filled the room as your kisses drew deeper and deeper.
you began to grind your hips into joe’s subconsciously, and joe moaned into your kisses as his length hardened against you. the friction of your movements felt so good even though there were layers of clothes between you, and you moaned back against his lips just as fervently. joe began pulling your sweater over your head and you let him, gasping as the cool air hit your naked skin. you weren’t wearing a bra and the chill of the room hardened your buds almost instantly, but joe didn’t care. he began kissing at your chest, his tongue rolling over one of your nipples while his large hands grasped at the other.
you tilted your head back, moaning as joe continued his ministrations on you, and you pressed your hips into his roughly. joe pulled you closer to him, moving his kisses from your chest to your neck again before nibbling on your ear. “let’s take this to the bedroom.” you whispered, looking down at him.
he shook his head no before lifting you up and sitting you on the couch next to him. “let’s do it right here, i don’t wanna wait. plus i love the way the christmas lights look on your skin.”
you blushed at his comment and watched as he pulled his pants and boxers down his legs. his cock sprang free, the tip was angry and red. you leaned over and took him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down a few times to get him wet enough to slide into you. joe fisted the couch pillows in his grip as you hollowed your cheeks.
you pulled off him with a loud pop and quickly shimmied out of your shorts before throwing your legs back over his and hovering over his cock. he used his thumb to push himself forward and you sank down onto his length slowly, taking a few moments to adjust. while joe sat fully sheathed inside of you he began kissing you again, his hand finding their way into your hair as he held you close.
the intimacy of the moment ran a shiver through you.
you finally lifted yourself up slightly before quickly moving back down, beginning to ride him at a tantalizingly slow pace. joe hissed at your teasing but you kept going, moving to your own liking.
his hands found your hips and they gripped you firmly but he made no attempt to push you to go faster, he wanted you to enjoy this too. you continued your slow, soft, steady movements as joe let out quiet moans beneath you.
your legs started to feel a bit weak but you pushed through, yet joe sensed your uncomfortability. he finally began moving his hips upward, pressing his tip right into your sweet spot as his thumb gently rubbed circles into your clit. you gasped suddenly, the feeling of your orgasm finally taking over.
warmth spread throughout your body as you shook slightly above joe, and seconds later he came too, resting his forehead against your shoulder as he spilled into you. neither of you were quick to make a move. joe looked up at you and giggled and you tilted your head wondering what was funny.
as if he read your mind, he gave you an answer to his amusement. “guess you were my star on top.” he said with a wink. you pretended to gag at his cheesy joke before kissing him again, raking your nails through his hair.
“i guess we should shower.” he said softly, looking into your eyes and waiting for an answer. you nodded slowly, pulling off of him. he carried you to the shower before turning on the hot stream.
“after this we can have hot chocolate and watch a movie. plus, you owe me cookies.” he joked, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“yeah, and you owe me flocked nutcrackers.”
photos and dividers used are not mine. all cred to owners.
taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @bengals-barnesbabe @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @joeyburrrow @yomamaslays4lyfe
#joe burrow#joeyfranchise’s 12 days of fic mas#joe burrow fic mas#cincinnati bengals#nfl#joe burrow fanfic#joe burrow fanfiction#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow smut#joe burrow imagines#joeburrow#joey burrow#joey b#joe burrow blurb#joe burrow bengals#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow angst#joe burrow smuts#joe burrow fluff
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slip of the finger — joe burrow
summary — you and joe are recently married, and he swears he’s never taking off his wedding band. that sentiment stays until he loses it on the field during a game.
warnings — fem!reader, fluff, some suggestive comments, implied smut
requested by — anon <3
BEING NEWLYWEDS WAS EXCITING. the bliss, the laughs, and the memories that were wrapped up in a beautiful bow. beginning a new chapter with the man you loved was such a privilege, and one you couldn’t wait to live to the fullest.
you and joe laid in bed, the soft duvet covering your bodies as your hands were held up in front of you. it was so surreal to you that you married your college sweetheart, that you were married. you watched the diamond sparkled underneath the warm lighting, how joe’s ring perfectly accented yours on his finger.
“i can’t believe we’re married,” you whispered, watching joe grab your hand and press it to his lips.
“i can,” he hummed, shifting onto his side, “i’ve always wanted to marry you,” he added, a lovesick look in his eyes. he admired you, the way your skin glowed in the warm lighting, the way your eyes sparkled with the love you had for him.
his words sent warmth down to your toes, your mouth pulling into a smile. you shifted onto your side, keeping the cover over your naked body. being married had many perks, including enjoying your husband. his hand reached forwards, caressing your cheek. he was so in love with you, with every part of you. his eyes flicked over your face and your exposed collarbone. he could see the marks he made just a few moments ago.
joe leaned over, his hand sliding across your skin to cup the back of your neck. he pressed his lips softly to yours, rolling so he was on top of you. your hands looped around his neck as his lips met yours. you smiled into the kiss, your cheeks rosy and warm. joe pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, his hair tickling your skin.
“i love you,” he hummed, kissing you softly again.
“i love you,” you agreed into the kiss. he hummed, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. he pulled away and sat up, running his hands down his face. while he always enjoyed moments like this and he wished he could stay like that forever, he couldn’t. it was game day.
“what time do you need to leave?” you asked him as he got out of bed. he slipped on his boxers as he disappeared into your walk in closet. it was an away game, so joe needed to be at the airport a whole day before the game. you wished it was different, but you’ve lived and loved this life for several years. you were used to it.
“in like,” there was a pause, “15 minutes,” he finished as he gathered his game day outfit. he tossed a shirt over his head and tugged black cargo pants over his hips.
“we really passed the time, huh?” you laughed, pushing your hair out of your face. you watched joe emerge from his closet, dressed in something comfy yet stylish for his flight.
“we did, didn’t we?” he smirked as he walked over, kissing you sweetly on the lips. you smiled, stretching your taut limbs under the duvet. you saw the wedding band on his finger, snug as could be.
“please don’t wear that on the field,” you begged, watching as he packed a bag.
“i won’t lose it, i’ll keep it safe,” joe assured you, zipping up his bag.
“you better, can’t have someone thinking you’re not married,” you commented, watching him smirk and scoff.
“with those marks i just gave you, i don’t think that’s possible,” he flirted, grabbing his bag and giving you a look. damn you, joe burrow.
“uh huh, ok player,” you joked as he kissed you again. he always hated leaving you; marriage hasn’t made it any easier. in fact, it’s made it ten times harder.
“i love you,” he called as he exited the bedroom.
“i love you! be safe!” you reminded him. you weren’t able to make it to the game, but you’d watch. you always watched.
—
it was finally game day, and you were curled up on your couch. you invited robin and jim over, as well as some of the other WAGs to watch the game. charcuterie boards were on the coffee table, half eaten as the game closed out the third quarter.
the bengals were up, and watching joe’s expression loose and relaxed kept you in good spirits. you hated watching tight games; you could see the stress lines on his face. you stood up, walking into the kitchen with an empty wine glass. you unscrewed the cap of the bottle, pouring out the red liquid into your cup.
“what happened to his finger?” robin asked, diverting your attention from your glass to the screen. you watched as joe showed ja’marr his ring finger, his left ring finger.
without the ring.
“joseph lee burrow,” you tsked, shaking your head and pursing your lips. what did you tell him a couple of days ago? you walked back over, taking a seat back on the couch, careful not to slosh your wine too much. robin looked over at you, a grin blossoming on her face.
“you told him to take it off, didn’t you,” robin stated. she knew you asked him to, but robin also knew another thing: joe hated taking it off. he loved showing people he was married, and that he was married to you. it wasn’t just a ring to him, it was a symbol of commitment and undying love.
“i did,” you confirmed, not being able to hold back a laugh as you sipped your wine. you knew he was stressed, you could see it on his face. everyone could see it. joe was frantically moving his hands, gesturing on the field where he thinks he lost it.
“she told me to take it off,” joe told ja’marr, running his hands through his hair. the two of them were walking the field, trying to see if the sun would reflect just right and reveal joe’s lost ring.
“and this is why we listen to our wives,” ja’marr clapped him on the shoulder, earning a scowl from joe. it didn’t last long though.
“she’s probably watching the game right now, and i’m gonna be in big trouble when i get home,” joe’s eyes scanned the field, flicking up every now and then to check how much time was left on the timeout clock. he didn’t have that much time.
“maybe she got up and got a snack,” andrei stepped beside them, offering his two cents.
“nah, she wouldn’t. she’s got her snacks right there with her. i bet she saw the whole thing,” ja’marr laughed, causing joe’s cheeks to turn pink. they didn’t have much more time before the next and final quarter was to start.
“burrow!” trey hendrickson came running over, holding the illusive gold band that would be joe’s wedding ring.
“oh thank God,” joe exhaled as he grabbed the ring from trey, “she would’ve not been happy,” joe chuckled. he handed it to one of the staffers, not risking it. he couldn’t lose it a second time.
“get a silicone one,” trey suggested, “those suckers don’t ever come off,”
“noted,” joe chuckled.
—
joe walked into the presser, wearing a t-shirt and his seinfeld sweats. he sat down, his wedding ring adorning his finger. he situated himself, preparing for all the questions about the fiasco on the field.
“find your ring?” one of the reporters asked, making joe awkwardly chuckle.
“yeah, yeah i did. thankfully,” he answered.
“did your wife see it?” another reporter asked.
“knowing her, probably. i’m not that lucky,” he joked. he nervously spun the ring around his finger, answering the other questions of the reporters. he couldn’t wait to make it home to you, settling in to your arms and hearing you tease him about losing his ring.
the press conference ended, and joe joined up with the other members of his team. as he did so, his phone vibrated in his pocket. he pulled out his phone, smiling as he answered the call.
“i know i know, i should have listened to you,” he smiled, walking a ways from the boys.
“it was kinda funny,” you admitted on the other end of the phone.
“how so?”
“seeing you scramble for your ring was entertaining,” you added. he could hear the smile on your words. he laughed, shaking his head.
“i bet it was,” he agreed.
“i ordered you a silicone one, so maybe this time you don’t lose it,” you teased.
“you didn’t have to do that,”
“what can i say, it’s a small treat for winning your game today,” you smiled, picking up the remnants of the small gathering you had. the girls and joe’s parents left a few minutes ago, leaving you alone in the house. it was nice, but you also wanted joe to hurry on back.
“you know what would also be a nice little treat?” he asked you, giving a glance around to make sure no one was listening.
“what?”
“that lingerie set you have, and you in it,” he suggested in a low voice, which he did for privacy purposes, but on your end it just turned you on.
“oh really now?”
“i think it’s the perfect little treat,” he smirked.
“i bet you do,” you laughed. you put the final things away before padding upstairs. “you said the black one, right?”
“you have multiple?”
“oh sweet joey,” you mused, opening one of your dresser drawers, “a girl always has multiple sets of lingerie,” it was your turn for your voice to go deep, driving joe wild.
there was a beat of silence on the other end of the phone.
“pick your favorite, but just so you know, i’m seeing you in all of them this week,” he warned you. you were still caught up on the fact he didn’t know about your multiple sets.
“one a night, huh?”
“you said it, not me,”
“whatever, burrow. just get home,” you laughed, pulling out a red lingerie set, “and do not lose your ring between there and home please,”
“i won’t! i promise,” he hummed. you bid your farewells, hanging up the phone. joe stood there for a minute, letting himself calm down. he didn’t know how long it would last; the thought of you surprising him in an unseen lingerie set was not boding well for him. he didn’t want to have a boner the whole flight home.
you, on the other hand, slipped out of your comfy clothes and readied for a shower. the thought of surprising joe in your lingerie set excited you, and you couldn’t wait for joe to get home, to remind him exactly why he’s got that wedding ring on his finger.
eeekk!!! this took me way longer than i liked but it’s cute!! newlywed joey is an absolute cutie. hope you enjoyed anon and so sorry for the delay!
tags: @wickedfun9 @joeyfranchise
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CINDERELLA───JOE BURROW
request: "Reader is going out with girlies and dressed sexy that joe almost got mad at reader cuz he doesn’t want reader going out with that dress and suddenly obsessed with boobies and told reader they cant breath in that dress" for @crispppykreme
The dress wasn’t new, but it might as well have been, given how long it had languished at the back of your closet. A slinky little thing, sleek black with a neckline that danced on the edge of scandal and just enough shimmer to catch the light in all the right places. It was the kind of dress that didn’t just suggest confidence—it demanded it.
You were proud of how you looked, admiring yourself in the full-length mirror, twisting slightly to check every angle. The effort had paid off: hair done, makeup sharp, heels that made your legs look miles long. Tonight was about the girlies, a rare night out that wasn’t dinner and wine but cocktails and dancing, the kind of carefree, late-night escapades you hadn’t had in months.
Joe had been fine about it earlier, or at least you thought he had. There was an absentminded “Have fun, baby,” thrown your way when you’d mentioned your plans this morning. But now, as his eyes scanned you from head to toe like he was taking inventory, you could feel the tension radiating off him from across the room.
“You’re really wearing that?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an edge that made you freeze mid-reach for your clutch. You turned slowly, eyebrow raised, trying to read the expression on his face.
“Uh, yeah? What’s wrong with it?” You kept your tone light, playful, even though the way he was looking at you made your skin prickle. Joe wasn’t one to throw around his opinions about your outfits, and honestly, you appreciated that about him. He knew you had your own style, your own vibe. But tonight? Something about tonight had apparently made him forget that.
He stepped closer, his hand running down his face as he let out a slow, deliberate sigh. “It’s not that it’s bad. It’s just…” His gaze dropped to your chest, and he gestured vaguely in that direction. “That dress. I mean, are you sure it’s comfortable? They—uh, you—don’t look like you can even breathe in it.”
For a second, you just blinked at him, your brain scrambling to catch up. Then it hit you, and the corner of your mouth twitched despite yourself.
“Oh,” you said, the teasing lilt unmistakable. “That’s what this is about.”
Joe crossed his arms, clearly trying to play it cool, but the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “I’m just saying. It’s kind of… tight, don’t you think?”
You couldn't stop the grin spreading across your face, even as Joe tried—and failed—to keep his cool. He was too easy to read, the faint crease between his brows giving him away completely.
“Oh, come on,” you teased, grabbing your clutch and turning back toward the mirror. “You’ve seen me wear tighter.”
“That’s not the point,” he shot back, his voice firmer now, enough to make you glance at him in the mirror. He was standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe like some kind of judgmental Greek statue, all broad shoulders and furrowed brows.
“Then what is the point, Joe?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m getting the vibe that it’s not about how tight this dress is.”
He huffed, running a hand through his hair in that way he always did when he was trying to sort through his words. “The point is,” he said slowly, “you’re going out looking like… like that. And I know exactly how guys are gonna act when they see you.”
You turned around now, giving him your full attention. “Guys? Plural? Is that what this is about?”
“It’s not about guys,” he said quickly, but the words came out too rushed, too defensive. He shifted his weight, unfolding his arms, clearly trying to walk the line between annoyed and reasonable. “It’s about… I don’t know. I just don’t want anyone thinking they can look at you like that.”
“Like what?” you asked, stepping closer, biting back a laugh as you pressed your palm to his chest. His heartbeat thumped steadily beneath your hand, but you could feel the tension in him.
“Like… like you’re up for grabs or something.” His jaw clenched, and his eyes darted away from yours, like saying it out loud embarrassed him.
You blinked, genuinely taken aback for a moment. “Joey,” you said, softening your tone, “you realize that’s not how this works, right? Just because I look good doesn’t mean I’m inviting attention. And even if someone does look—so what? I’m coming home to you.”
His eyes flicked back to yours at that, softening slightly, but his lips pressed into a stubborn line. “Yeah, but you’re mine,” he muttered, the words barely audible but so pointed they hung heavy in the air.
You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. “Yours?” you repeated, shaking your head in disbelief. “What, are you going to put a sticker on me that says ‘Property of Joe Burrow’?”
He groaned, his hand raking through his hair again. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
“Do I?” you shot back, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Because it kinda sounds like you’re saying I can’t wear what I want unless it gets your approval.”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all!” he said quickly, but the way his ears were turning pink made you think he was second-guessing himself.
“Then what?” you asked, crossing your arms now, mirroring his earlier stance. “Because, if you think I’m changing out of this dress just because it makes you nervous, you’ve got another thing coming.”
He stared at you for a moment, his jaw working, clearly torn between frustration and surrender. “It’s not nervous,” he mumbled finally. “It’s just… look, you’re too damn sexy, okay? There. I said it. And I'm not there to make sure nobody thinks they can have you.”
You raised an eyebrow, your grin growing wider. “Ohhh, I see,” you said, dragging out the words. “So, this isn’t about the dress at all. It’s about you being jealous.”
His face scrunched like he wanted to deny it, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he settled for muttering, “I’m not jealous.”
“Right,” you said, stepping closer to him again. “Because you’re totally fine with me going out looking like a ‘damn goddess,’ as I’m sure some guy at the bar is going to say.”
Joe groaned again, tipping his head back against the doorframe. “Do you have to do this?”
“Yes,” you said brightly, standing on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Because it’s fun watching you squirm.”
He sighed, his hands finally coming to rest on your hips, pulling you in closer. “I’m serious, though,” he said, his voice lower now, quieter. “You look amazing. Too amazing. And I trust you—I do—but that doesn’t mean I trust every drunk guy who’s gonna see you tonight.”
“I can handle drunk guys,” you said softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “And besides, you know I’d never let anyone get too close.”
“I know,” he admitted, resting his forehead against yours. “I just hate the idea of someone thinking they even have a chance.”
“Well, they don’t,” you said simply, smiling up at him. “You’re the only one who gets to peel me out of this dress later.”
His lips twitched into a smirk at that, and you could feel some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Yeah, you’re damn right I am.”
You grinned, giving him another quick peck on the lips before stepping back. “Now, are you done being dramatic, or do I need to remind you that this is my night out?”
He sighed, letting his arms drop but not stepping back. “Fine,” he said, though his tone still had a hint of reluctance. “But if you’re not home by midnight, I’m calling.”
You laughed, grabbing your Chanel clutch and heading for the door. “Sure, Cinderella. Whatever you say.”
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#nfl fic#nfl imagine#nfl players#joe burrow#joe burrow bengals#cincinnati bengals#joeyb#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow smut#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow x you#joe burrow x y/n#joe burrow x oc
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speaking of everyone like where's the story songs where's the songs about specificass situations where's songs about anything that's not generic romance or generic i want to hook up tonight, what a great time i had the other night just ending up on a thread going Sure Show Me That One okay now Sure Show Me This One nyc cabaret videos lol. that usually whatever show things were from will have its own overarching theme but individual songs will probably have this standalone quality to them & be bangers while also probably getting surprising, funny, odd, have Specificity. obviously being youtube posts of live performances of nyc cabaret like singers who are also Actors left & right, songs that are written for live performance with a story, musicals, musical theatrey concerts, cabarets, standalones. going like well i don't have specific context for what might be a larger work this was developed to be a part of but damn if i don't need that to follow gists & enjoy shit anyway. damn if some songs take situations that could be framed in a more "relatable" mundane or [remove disambiguating details] way but makes a point to clearly put it in some really specific Situation & lord knows please with sense of specific character(tm)
#fun fun fun....#i also don't suffer like charting Recorded Music Love(tm)/Tonight(tm) escape room b/c i just don't go in ever now lol#was the peak Listening To The Radio Years overlapping w/years i would more regularly be driving e.g. & now shrugmoji#discovering Unheard By Me Music From Whenever like i'm open to that but don't seek it much. don't often fire up my own Liked Music lol#even specific artists like yea might listen to a single; what rarity i've listened to whole New To Me albums#think last time i did was like whew ok for crj....wouldn't do it again prob lol i was like this is too much All About Romance Generic#meanwhile cabaret random new song like oh fun to listen funnily specific funly acted And i cried (even had romance; hooking up)#going like oh this is just like the black suits to me & gongeous melody/singing that's also just in a style a straightup pop non live#recorded song wouldn't necessarily. oh this song doesn't Need to go ''& i'm an astronaut in space'' a few lines in but god why not?#& thank fuck it does like hip hooray something exists to be fun in funny unexpected weird idiosyncratic ways. please please tyssm#meanwhile also speaking of artists like Yes sure random joe iconis song. so vivacious it can be like oh This refrainyeah i've heard this 1#yknow presumably like even amidst theatre musical acting Music realm there's still the ''ah less character(tm)'' oeuvre but like#impassively pivoting walking away / not having much of an inroad to walk Up to that in the first place#whereas like oh will roland singing what itself could just be considered a Love Song? it'll have specificities &/or certainly Character#& what i wouldn't care at all about from someone else like If You Can Do Specificass Funny Little Material i'll watch you do anything#& ofc be more poised to get invested right off have a good time w/Whatever the material is
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Sins of The Flesh
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]
Wordcount: 3,000+
Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, No physical description of OC other than her being black, Spanking, D/S Dynamics, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), Bratty!OC, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, a tiny bit of Degradation Kink, No P in V, Slight Angst
A/N: Divider by fireflygraphics. Special shoutout to @megamindsecretlair who inspired me to write something for the first time in too long. Thank you!
Riley was the picture-perfect Southern belle. With a preacher for a father and a teacher for a mother, she always kept up her manners in public. But behind closed doors, she had a talent for getting into trouble—and her relationship with Terry Richmond was no different.
He was her very own Black G.I. Joe—six feet, four inches of solid muscle. Intense, stormy green eyes and the face of an Adonis. A flawless specimen—and completely hers.
That morning, she woke up with a familiar ache in her belly. Terry had been gone the entire week to celebrate his cousin Mike’s homecoming, while she stayed behind due to a special work project. It had been seven long days without so much as a touch from the man who couldn’t keep his hands off her whenever they were alone.
He'd returned late Saturday, slipping into bed quietly to avoid waking her.
It was Sunday morning, and as the preacher’s daughter, she knew she had to be at her best. But sleep had eluded her. The rollers she wore to sleep were uncomfortable, and she never slept well when Terry wasn’t there. She woke up feeling restless, only to turn over and see him.
He was bare-chested, the morning light making his skin glisten. The bedsheets were pushed down to his hips, and the outline of his body was impossible to ignore. Her mouth watered.
When her gaze finally made its way up to his face, his eyes were already on her. Terry was always up by six, but some days, he'd stay in bed a little longer just for her.
She kissed her way up his body, starting from his neck and working toward his lips, straddling him.
“Mornin’, baby,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, making her heart flutter. His green eyes framed by naturally long lashes—lashes she spent a hundred dollars a month trying to replicate—fixed on hers. He pulled her down for a tight hug, his lips finding her jaw. She sighed, feeling his strength encase her.
“What time did you get in? I missed you,” she admitted, feeling a little foolish. She was a grown woman, had spent most of her adult life without him, but sometimes it felt like she couldn’t breathe without him there.
His facial hair, grown in during the week they’d been apart, tickled her skin as he nuzzled into her neck—a silent way of saying, "I missed you too."
They lay there for a few moments before he stirred. One arm wrapped around her back, the other reaching for his phone on the nightstand. “We gotta get up. It’s almost eight.”
She groaned. “It’s too early.”
She was up before sunrise on workdays, but weekends were different.
“Come on, we have to.” He patted her back gently.
“Excuse you…” She sat up, crossing her arms with her legs still draped over his hips. “You just got back and you're bossing me around. You haven’t even kissed me yet.”
He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved how spoiled she could act sometimes. She knew he’d give her the world if she asked, and it boosted his ego to know she trusted him that much—knew, deep down, he would always protect and care for her.
“Oh, you think you’re running the show now?” he teased, raising a brow. She bit her lip, debating how to respond. Terry Richmond wasn’t the type of man to play petty games with, but she liked to do it every now and then, just to keep things interesting.
“Duh. I thought you knew.”
He let out a deep laugh from his core, right in her face. She huffed and tried to move away from his lap, but in an instant, he had rolled them over, pinning her beneath him as they both giggled.
“Who gave you command?”
His hand wrapped gently around her neck, and the playful moment turned serious. He positioned himself between her legs, morning wood pressed against her thigh, and her face flushed.
“You did.” She swallowed hard, remembering the last time they were in this position—his hand firm around her throat as he took control. The unspoken command hung in the air: tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll give you what you want.
He raised an eyebrow, “Me?”
“Yeah,” She smirked, “You disappeared so I had to improvise.” Her voice softened, teasing but with a warmth that hinted she missed him. “Maybe don’t leave me hanging next time, huh?”
He shook his head with a chuckle, then his lips crushed against hers, the kiss demanding, until her thoughts were consumed by him and only him. Her back arched, hips shifting as she sought him out. His hand found her neck again as he slowly pulled away, as if it pained him to stop.
“We gotta get up. I let you miss another Sunday, and your dad will never let me live it down.”
His sudden shift in tone made her scowl, especially as he tapped her legs to free himself from her grip. “Why are you talking about my father right now?”
“Get up.” His tone tolerated no dissent, and she reluctantly allowed him to pull her to her feet.
She followed him into the guest bathroom, where he'd gone to shower in peace. She dragged her soapy hands down his back, teasing him, offering to help him dry off but using it as an excuse to grope him instead. He wouldn’t give in. She spent the rest of the morning testing his resolve, brushing against him as he scrambled their eggs, and bending at the waist to give him a peek under her slip after "accidentally" dropping the house keys.
By the time they reached the church parking lot, a frown lingered on her made-up face, fading only as they approached the church doors, where she transformed into the picture-perfect preacher’s daughter.
Smiling, saying all the right things, all the while thinking about Terry. It wasn’t right, thinking these things in church, but she couldn’t help it. She prayed for forgiveness but couldn’t stop herself from reminiscing about him—the way he drove her to the brink of madness, how good he always made her feel.
The singing of hymns and the preaching faded into the background as she focused on the analog clock hanging above the pulpit. Church seemed to drag on even longer than usual, as if the universe were conspiring with Terry to tease her to death. He sat there, as tempting as the devil, his button-up shirt clinging to his muscular arms and thick thighs defined even in slacks.
By the time they reached the car, she felt like she was on the verge of catching fire. She’d waved hurriedly at her parents before dragging Terry out the church doors, complaining about the traffic. She was sure her mom would call her and fuss about it later, but she’d deal with that when the time came. He didn’t say a word until they were driving down the main road, his eyes glancing over at her.
“You’ve been acting wild all day. You that desperate for my dick?”
“What?”
“You heard me. You want it that bad?” He repeated himself, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Her mouth hung open as she processed his words. In the bedroom, he was her Daddy—dominant, demanding, intense. A bit of a bedroom bully, but never harsh. She was his princess, and he treated her like one. Terry didn’t usually talk to her like this, but she couldn’t deny the heat that pooled between her legs at his words.
She wished she had something clever to say, but the truth was that her desire for him ran deeper than he could ever realize. “I can’t help it,” she admitted, leaning over the center console to caress his leg. She gave him those Bambi eyes and spoke softly. “I need you, baby.”
“I get it. I've been counting down the days too,” He promised. His voice was steady and calm—too calm—while she felt like she was on the edge. He had unbuttoned the top of his shirt when they got in the car, and all she could think about was undoing the rest. The way the water had cascaded down his chest this morning was sinful. Her thighs clenched together subconsciously.
“I need more than just talk right now,” She grumbled, remembering how he had rejected her earlier that morning. She’d wanted him so badly that she dropped to her knees, promising to make it worth his while. But he remained composed, pulling her back up for a soft kiss on the corners of her mouth. “Later,” he had promised.
All week, she had struggled to concentrate at work, her thoughts consumed with him. And now that he was back, he didn’t seem in any hurry to change that. He should have woken her up last night, church be damned— The same way he did any other night he wanted to be inside her. Her hand inched up to his thigh and squeezed.
When her fingertips grazed his dick, he gently grabbed her hand and lifted it from his lap. “Relax,” he warned, his voice adopting that stern tone she usually loved. But now, it just grated on her nerves. Terry Richmond—who was always so eager—was telling her to relax about sex. How many mornings had he insisted on having her before he left for work? How many days had he stalked her around the house, grabbing her any way he wanted? How many nights had he promised to “do all the work” if she just let him inside?
She kissed her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring out at the cars ahead. He was full of it.
“What’s this? You got an attitude now?”
She snapped before she could stop herself. “What do you think, Terry?” Aggravation burned in her chest, and his eyes widened at her tone. Apparently, his week away had been too long—she had lost her damn mind.
“Any other time, you can’t get enough of me, and now you’re acting like I’ve got the cooties. What’s going on with you?”
“What are you trying to get at?” he asked, sounding annoyed, and it was clear on his face. She stared back at him as his gaze flicked between her and the road, as if her eyes could uncover whether he had been faithful. She trusted Terry, but she already knew Mike’s wild ass had plenty of strippers and trouble around.
What else was she supposed to think? Terry was only a man after all.
“For real?” he replied, meeting her suspicious gaze. “You think I’d do you like that?”
Her stomach flipped. In her heart, she felt one thing, but her head was a different monster altogether. She had a tendency to overthink and jump to conclusions. Terry usually made her feel so secure that it wasn’t an issue. “So, just because I’m not moving fast enough for you, I must be cheating, huh?” He looked at her like a wounded lion.
“I don’t know, Terry,” she shifted her gaze away from him, knowing she had overreacted. “I’m just frustrated, okay?” The silence that fell between them felt heavy. She knew she had made a mistake. “I’m sorry,” she added, her voice softening. “I know you’re not like that; I was just... I don’t know.”
Just like Muni Long, she wished for a Time Machine.
The sting of her accusation settled in his gut. He couldn’t begin to understand why she would doubt him after everything they’d been through.
Terry remained silent for the rest of the ride. Not even when he parked the car, opened her passenger door, and unlocked the house did he say a word. He let her in first, just like always, but the usual kisses to her neck were absent. Instead, he slipped off to the guest room to change while she undressed in their shared bedroom, feeling like a brat. The pretty polka dot dress and brand new stockings he should have been removing only added to her sadness.
She removed her makeup in a somber mood, then finally made her way to the living room when she could no longer put it off. Terry had changed into a T-shirt and shorts, sprawled across the couch while fiddling with the remote, flipping through channels she knew he wasn’t interested in at all.
She settled onto his lap, her thighs gripping him to keep him close. He avoided her gaze until she cupped his face in her hands, gently forcing him to meet her eyes. There was a storm brewing, one that she had caused. “Don’t be like that,” she pleaded.
She rested her head against his broad chest, cuddling into the warmth beneath her. With her chin snuggled comfortably, she gazed up into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was wrong– so wrong. I know who you are and that you wouldn’t hurt me. Please forgive me. I was trippin’.”
He took a deep breath and ran a hand across his low fade, trying to process his emotions. “You really scared me with that.” He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. “I need you to understand that it’s not easy for me to shake off what you said. I love you, but I need to know you trust me.”
“I do. I promise I do, baby. I just lost my head for a minute there. You mean everything to me.”
“Okay,” he conceded after a minute, “Just keep your head in the game, alright? Stick with me. We’re good.” Terry’s habit of framing their relationship in sports terms never failed to make her smile.
"You got it, coach," she teased, then added playfully, "Oh wait—Sir, yes sir," as she offered a mock salute.
“You always know just how to push my buttons, don’t you?”, he asked. “That’s alright, though, because you’re still under my command, recruit.” He delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Riley gasped as she felt the sting of each slap.
"Terry, stop," she protested, trying to push him away, but he was unyielding.
“Nah, baby,” he whispered against her lips, staring her directly in the eyes, “You got a little too bold and need a reminder of who’s running things.”
Her stomach flipped as she realized what was happening. She had been getting more mouthy as the day went on, testing how far she could go. Now it was time for Terry to put her in her place, and while that was always fun, she knew he wouldn’t go easy on her.
As if reading her mind, Terry pulled back slightly, his gaze fierce and focused. "You know I love you, baby," he uttered softly. “But sometimes, a firm hand is needed to keep us in line.”
She nodded, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. A spanking hadn’t been a part of her agenda for the day. All she wanted was to come home, have him in their bed, and make up for lost time, then pretend to watch TV for a little before she rode him to oblivion. But she had ruined that by being impatient. She knew that Terry was right – she had crossed a line today, and this was exactly what she needed.
Taking a deep breath, she eased into him, allowing him to maneuver her over his lap as he repositioned them on the couch. The muted sounds of the TV faded into the background as they got comfortable, her shorts rustling quietly as he pulled them down to her ankles.
“I get that you’re used to having things your way, but that ain't how it works with me,” Terry advised, palming her ass cheeks in each hand. He took his time jiggling the fat there before his hand came down on one side and then the other. Terry was heavy handed, making sure she felt him deep in her soul. She hissed, already reaching back to cover her bottom.
"Gimme your hands," he ordered, locking both of them in one of his own.
Terry started spanking her in earnest, and Riley felt every bit of it— the sharp sting as his hand met her skin, the heat radiating across her backside, and the firm pressure of his arms keeping her steady.
“I’m so sorry,” She whined, squirming in his lap. “I didn't mean it!” He took a breath, grabbed her chin, and locked his gaze on her to make sure she heard him loud and clear. “I know you didn’t plan for this, but you still deserve this punishment. You gotta do better, ma.”
He went back to smacking her ass all wild, hitting it from every possible angle. “Fuck!” She cursed, getting lost in the pain and the pleasure. If the folks at church knew she had a mouth like this, she'd be too embarrassed to show her face again. With each smack, her thoughts become increasingly scrambled, swirling in a delicious haze. It didn’t help that Terry was talking her through it the entire time.
“Remember I’m doing this because I love you.”
“You need to find some middle ground before you take things to the next level. You understand me?”
“Stay exactly like that, don’t move.”
“I know it hurts. It’s supposed to.”
“Here, grab this pillow.”
She moaned and groaned her protests but Terry was too strong and she had earned this ass whooping. She knew there was nothing left to do but surrender. Terry had her and she could let go of all her worries and concerns. She just needed to ride it out.
As the spanking continued, Riley’s breathing grew more ragged until she was breathless. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. She apologized fervently each time his hand came down on her ass, sobbing when he gave her a small reprieve, rubbing her lower back gently. “You’re okay. We’re almost done. Are you really as sorry as you’re claiming?”
“Yes, Daddy,” She whimpered, already imagining how sore she’d be the next day, hobbling into her good government job with a bruised backside. She had bit off way more than she could chew and now needed his mercy.
“Repeat after me,” Terry commanded, his tone leaving room for argument. “Say ‘I’ll be a good girl and listen.’” She immediately complied, her voice shaky but sincere as she echoed his words, fully embracing the promise behind them. “I understand that the next time I do it, Daddy is going to spank my disobedient ass all over again..” She repeated his words like a well-trained parrot, and at the moment, it was all she could manage.
She felt lightheaded by the time Terry finished spanking her, and she couldn’t recall the last thing he’d said. She had hit her breaking point.
She laid there for several minutes, completely spaced out, and focused only on catching her breath. Terry massaged her scalp with his fingertips as they both came down from the natural high of their chemistry. Eventually, Terry lifted her up to meet his gaze, being mindful not to agitate her already bruised bottom.
“You good?”
Her head was still reeling. She wanted to shrink into a little ball, but she also wanted to live in his skin. How could she express that to him without sounding unhinged? Terry massaged her back in gentle, calming circles until he sensed her start to unravel. She eventually nodded slowly, acknowledging that yes, she was okay— physically at least, even if her emotions were still in a disarray.
“I’ll do better,” she promised, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with exhaustion.
"That’s my good girl," he said, gently wiping away tears from her cheekbone as his expression softened. Despite what she might think, he didn’t get as much satisfaction from spanking her as she believed. It was just something he had to do.
“Come on, pretty. I’ll fill the tub up for you, and then we can order brunch from your favorite spot.”
Forgive me for any mistakes. I had to post this before I lost my nerve, lol. This started as something completely different but I'm happy with how it turned out. Let me know what you think! For more Terry Richmond fics by other amazing young ladies, please check out my Terry Richmond fic rec tag.
Part 2
#rebel ridge#terry richmond x black!oc#terry richmond x black!reader#rebel ridge fanfiction#terry Richmond x black oc#Terry Richmond x black reader
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I feel like disappointment in Biden is baffling to me because he was always a disappointment. He was the asshole who got to ride to power on the coattails of a better man. He told bizarre and repeated lies (despite getting caught at it and his team telling him not to) about having a Welsh coal miner dad when he did not and he stole that story from actual Welsh people. I read a profile of him years back that pointed this out and told the story of the time he straight up ignored good advice from an expert not to plant a certain kind of tree too close together and flew a bunch of them out to plant, at night because he was just too fucking excited about it, and they all died. He’s not a smart man! He’s charismatic ish and lacks principles and as far as I can tell doesn’t really care about abortion rights or a lot of things we’d consider pretty critical to preserving freedom. I sincerely thought he couldn’t become President because there were so many obviously better candidates in the pool. I underestimated the sexism and antisemitism in American politics, and when he became the candidate in 2020 I gritted my teeth and voted for him because the alternative was a man who is not only an idiot but also profoundly dangerous. Trump is not ha-ha crazy, he’s Mussolini crazy. He is not dangerous because he’s stupid, although that doesn’t help; he’s dangerous because he does not care about anyone except himself under any circumstances and if that means he lets the far right push us straight into forced birth for white women and sterilization for women of color he’s going to do that. If that means conversion therapy for queers and death penalty for homosexual acts he’s going to do that. He has literally no limits. If he gets back into power, a whole lot of people are going to die, again. It’s not a hypothetical because it happened the first time and he’s only going to get worse.
I am not, never have been, and never will be a fan of Biden. To pretend that he and Trump are in any way equivalent is wrong at best and another goddamn Russian psy-op at worst. To pretend that a third party candidacy is viable in the US is to completely ignore every election of your lifetime and your parents’ lifetimes, and to further ignore the lesson of Ross Perot.
You cannot save Palestinians by not voting for Biden in November; the best you can do is chip away at his margin, and the worst you can do is see Trump elected so he can decide to do the worst possible thing in ever circumstance. Biden has Palestinian blood on his hands and watching this when we could have had Bernie or Elizabeth Warren instead is maddening. (I would have preferred Hillary to Trump, but I don’t think she’d be any different than Biden here. They’re both old-school politicians.)
I hate everything about this, and I hate that saying “maybe don’t put the man who literally said he would kill his political enemies in power” is seen as supporting genocide. It’s acknowledging reality. Joe Biden as a person can eat rocks for all I care. I was kind of hoping he’d die sooner in his term so we’d have time to get used to and then vote for President Harris. (Remember when the line was “she’s a cop, don’t vote for her”? Funny how there’s always a reason not to vote for a woman or a person of color or someone you just “don’t like” and can’t put a finger on why except she “seems angry.” Oh does she. How would she not? When Michelle fucking Obama, the picture of grace , STILL got called angry for having the nerve to be a Black woman with an opinion? When Hillary Clinton lost to a man with no political experience to her decades and who openly discussed sexually assaulting women? Would you have voted for President Harris? Or would you let Trump win again because you don’t LIKE her personally and she’s made decisions and statements you disagree with?)
Biden has both less power than his critics give him credit for and more power than his fans give him credit for. He needs to do more to pressure Israel and although it’s a delicate diplomatic situation I’d rather see us fuck up our diplomatic relationship with Israel than watch more Palestinians get murdered for things like “wanting to eat” and “existing.” The line has been crossed, and he doesn’t see it. Because he wasn’t the best person for the job. Because they didn’t get elected, because of sexism/antisemitism/racism. Hell, I have no idea what bootlicker Pete Buttegieg would have done here, but I’d have given him a try. But no. We got Biden and we’re stuck with this reality where you can be as leftist as you want and still have to look at the situation and decide whether you’re comfortable contributing to a Trump victory through inaction. I want socialism—I want every single person on Earth to have clean drinking water, enough safe food, shelter, medical care, and education—and I’m going to vote for Biden, pissy as it makes me, because the only actual alternative is so, so much worse, for me personally as both a woman and a queer, and for everyone in America and the rest of the world who Trump would find reasons to hurt. What do you think the man who openly and repeatedly praises dictators is going to do when those dictators massacre their own people? Yes, we need to care about this genocide now. We also need to care about all of the other people who are at real risk, both at home and abroad. Would a Trump government agree to fund military intervention in Haiti without insisting on it being a colonial exercise in power? Would a Trump government roll back the restrictions on discriminating against transgender patients in healthcare? How would Trump respond if Orban started dragging people into the streets and shooting them en masse? How would Trump respond if China finally went for it and invaded Taiwan? There are more lives at stake here than mine or yours or even those of the Palestinians, who have deserved better for literally decades and are being mass killed in ways that should result in immediate sanctions, a war crimes trial, and the execution of Netanyahu.
The world deserves better from you than complicity in a Trump victory.
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overrated- jb
pov- another guy gets too handsy at the nightclub
warnings- flufffffff, tw almost gets violent but not really, rowdy misogynist at the bar idk
a/n- sorry about my absence guys! did you miss me? it’s been a wild few months. this one may be a bit rusty sorry, hoping to get more active but will still be slow to reqs, enjoy and as always give some feedback!! 💟💟
if you haven’t already, check out my masterlist!
Things had been a bit tense the past few days. Joe was stressed about stuff at work, you were stressed about stuff at home, so an argument was inevitable. It came soon enough. Joe completely forgot that he had his own friend’s birthday party tonight, leaving you to walk him through everything he had to do to get ready. He was a grown man, but sometimes it didn’t feel like it.
The party was at a club, so you were dressing accordingly. Tonight was supposed to be fun and carefree. You told him to get ready to leave at 8, and you hoped for your sanity that he was. You knew that he was tired from work, but this was his friend, not yours. At least you weren’t the one who had to pick out a present. Oh God. The present.
“Joe!” you shouted from the bathroom.
There was a hum in response from the bed you shared.
“You got him a present, right?”
Silence.
“Are you serious?”
“Ok I genuinely forgot,” at least he sounded a little nervous. “What do I do?”
You put the heels of your hands in your eyes, and breathed out a stressful sigh.
“”Everywhere’s closed. Just say you left it and buy the first few rounds of drinks. He’ll be drunk enough then to forget about it for the time being.”
“Good idea.”
“Hm.”
“I’m sorry.”
You closed your eyes and sighed in response. He appeared behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and breathing into your neck. You fought a smirk. His cologne was hypnotizing. He wore black dress pants, a black collared shirt, and black and white high top sneakers.
“You smell good,” he mumbled, tickling your skin as he kissed it lightly. You shivered and leaned tiredly against him. “I’m trying to get back on your good side, baby.”
You breathed out a laugh. “Mmhm. I sense that. Can you go grab my red bottoms from the closet?”
He nodded, kissed you on the cheek, and trailed his arms off you to leave the bathroom you were in.
When he came back in, he held them hanging on his pointer and middle finger as he swiped on his phone with the other hand. You dropped your silk robe to your feet to change into your dress. It was white, skimpy, and silk.
You heard the hitching of breath behind you, and suddenly Joe’s phone was not the center of his attention. He looked at you in the mirror, not hiding it whatsoever. You made eye contact with him through the mirror.
He raised his eyebrows, a “fuck” escaping under his breath.
You pulled the dress off the hanger to step into it. “Can you zip me up?” you looked at him in the reflection again.
He just nodded, gave no verbal response. He tossed the heels on the bed and walked up behind you. He traced a line down your bare back before zipping up the dress.
You turned and gave him a quick peck in thanks. “Alright, I have my purse and my phone. I just have to put shoes on and we’ll go.”
He grabbed your heels off the bed, and pushed you gently backwards so you’d sit down on it. He knelt in front of you, gently lifting your calf up to slowly slip your heel on. He gave your soft skin a squeeze, then kissed it lightly, making his way up to your knee as he looked up at you. His eyes were dark and lidded.
“No, do not look at me like that,” you said with as much sternness that you could muster.
“I’m not looking at you like anything,” he mumbled into your skin.
Both of your shoes were on, so you scooted forward on the bed, looking down at him. He looked up at you with his lips pursed in a smirk. You cupped his face in your hands, running your thumb across his cheek. You leaned in,
close enough to kiss him.
“We’re late,” you whispered, and rolled off the side of the bed.
- - -
The ride in the car was quiet, a comfortable silence. Joe rubbed you affectionately on your thigh. You were excited for tonight, even though Joe was making you want to stay home. You were glad that some of your girl friends
we’re going, as Joe would probably be caught up with his friends. It was a guy on the team’s party, so of course you had to go. You were excited, though after you and Joe’s recent interactions, you’d rather just stay home with him. You were glad the two of you could make up; sometimes it was like he didn’t think. Lucky for him, you loved him anyway.
Joe’s sleek car pulled in front of the club, valet coming to take it from him. He got out, coming around to open the door for you. People recognized him as y’all got out. He opened the door, grasping your hand to help you out the car. You held your clutch in one hand, Joe’s hand in the other, and you walked toward the club doors. You walked past multiple filming phones, and Joe squeezed your hand. You didn’t mind them, they just made you slightly nervous. The bouncer stepped aside, nodding at the two of you as he let you in.
The club was dimly lit, neon lights responsible for most of the light. He led you through the crowd to a VIP section. There sat many familiar faces from the team and families, who cheered drunkenly when they saw you’d arrived.
You listened as Joe spit out the excuse that you told him to make about the gift. The birthday boy didn’t skip a beat, mostly happy for free drinks. The other wives of Joe’s teammates pulled you into their circle. You were the youngest out of all of them, but you enjoyed their company at all the games and celebrations. You’d grown close to them as the seasons went on.
They asked generic questions: How were you and Joe? What’s new? Eventually, they got bored of the VIP section and wanted to go dance. You got up to go with them. You needed a drink too, you decided.
You stopped by where Joe was before leaving to tell him where you were going. He already had a drink in his hand, and was sitting on a couch. He was a little tipsy already, you could tell. He was manspreading on the couch, and when you walked up to talk to him, he pulled you forward by the back of your thigh to stand between his legs. He looked up at you, smirking with his eyebrows raised.
His behavior took you slightly by surprise, and you smiled down at him.
“Hi,” you smirked.
“Hi.” He rubbed the back of your leg, looking you up and down. You felt a slight blush on the highs of your cheeks.
“We’re going to dance, okay?”
“”You’re leaving me?” He feigned annoyance, making you smile. He looked good tonight.
“Yes,” you pouted. “Have fun.”
“Text me if you need me.”
“I will, I love you,” you said, and his grasp lingered on your thighs as you backed away.
“Love you,” he said, giving your calf one last squeeze before you turned around.
- - -
The dance floor was crowded, and so was the bar. You took a tequila shot with some of the other ladies, then took on the dance floor. You were glad to be able to let loose. You danced with your friends laughing. The music playing was good, and before you knew it, you needed another drink. You ordered some sort of fruity cocktail, one of the girls meeting you up there. You two talked about something random, giggly and cheerful from your drunken states.
“Okay girl, the dance floor misses me. I’ve gotta go back,” your friend says jokingly. “You coming?”
“Tempting, really, but I’ll take a break here and nurse my drink.” Your feet ached, so a break at the bar was what you needed. You reached for your phone to text Joe. Fuck. It was back in your clutch in the section. Oh well, guess there’s no losing it then.
You turned to ask the bartender for another, and-
“I’ve never seen you here before,” a voice says next to you. It was a man, with brown hair and facial stubble looking at you, head tilted with his tongue in his cheek.
It took you a moment to realize he was talking to you. Now you wished you could text Joe, to come down and whisk you away. “I’ve been here a few times,” you say, boredom in your expression.
“Nah, I’d remember a pretty face like yours.” He raised his eyebrows and leaned in. “You sure you’ve been here?”
Ew.
“Yep, I’d know!” you chirped. You looked around for someone you knew, an ally to save you. You saw no one, and sighed. You had a feeling this guy would be pretty persistent.
You went to dismiss yourself, say that you had to go somewhere, do something other than be where you were right now, but he beat you to it. Dread bloomed in your chest.
“Let me buy you a drink, hm?” he gave a coy smirk. He must have seen the reluctance in your expression, because he continued. “Come on, a pretty girl shouldn’t walk around the club empty handed.”
You sighed, ready for this to be over. You glanced upward to try and spot the VIP section from where you were by the bar. You could see the section, some of your friends laughing and drinking, but you didn’t see Joe with them.
“No, I’m okay. I don’t want a drink.” You tried to look emotionless instead of jumpy.
“Maybe your number then?” He showed no signs of defeat in his expression. Couldn’t he give it up already?
“I have a boyfriend, so no.” You steeled your expression, again glancing around for your friend. The dance floor was too crowded to see. You needed to make an escape. “I really should be
going.” You made the move to walk off. Any direction would suffice. You just needed to leave, you were anxious. You’d just go find Joe and hang around him for the rest of the night. Anything to get out of this situation.
He caught you by your elbow, firmly.
“I don’t see him.”
Your breath hitched in your throat. “What?”
“I said I don’t see him.” The stranger suddenly got closer to you, the alcohol in his breath noticeable. He kept his grip on your elbow.
“See who?” A gruff voice spoke from behind you. Joe. A great relief waved through you. His hands pulled you backwards, out of the strangers grip and safely in the confines of his arms.
The stranger’s face blanched, almost comically. His suave demeanor disappeared. He opened his mouth, as if to say something. He looked up at Joe, then down at you. He made some sort of noise, and began to stutter out something. Joe’s eyes on him silenced his voice.
Joe moved you aside and slightly behind him gently by your shoulders. He glanced at you, quickly checking you up and down for any sign of harm or anything out of place. The leds from the bar illuminated your pale skin, highlighting the hand-shaped flush on your skin near your elbow. Joe’s expression went cold and angry as he saw it, his jaw became clenched. Even in the loud atmosphere of the bar, things seemed to go still and silent.
His head turned toward the stranger, who was significantly shorter than Joe. He didn’t just look short, but small. He had compacted himself on the crowded bar as far away from Joe as possible.
You looked down at Joe’s hand, balled into a fist. You grabbed on his sleeve, as his back was turned to you. You didn’t want to make a scene. His whole body was tensed.
“Joe,” you said. It was a plea, and he knew it. Losing his temper could be bad. He was big guy, and he could definitely do some damage. Not to mention that this could damage his career. This could be bad for his reputation, no matter what the circumstance was. He knew this, and he didn’t care. You were the most important thing in the world to him. Someone had merely thought about putting you in harm’s way, and he was furious.
He looked at you, blue eyes dark, jaw clenched. He looked like he was struggling to stay in control of himself, as if he was on the brink of flying off the handle. He was making a decision, and looking at your pleading expression was the only thing keeping him from swinging on the guy in front of him.
He turned, as calm as he could be towards the man at the bar. He rested his elbow on the bar, getting on the man’s level and moving very close to speak to him. Joe looked nothing but threatening, and spoke firmly to him.
He said, “You’re lucky that she’s here. She’s the only thing keeping me from putting my hands on you.” Joe said every word so calm, but so threatening. “But I’m gonna let you know right now. If you ever try to touch her again, let alone let me see you anywhere near this place again, I swear to God that you’ll be unrecognizable by the time I’m finished with you. You understand?”
You couldn’t tell if the man’s response was a nod or him trembling. Joe stood straight, towering over him again, and after one last look, turned back to you.
“Let’s go, I’ve got your phone in my pocket. I’ll buy you another purse.” The way he was looking at you contrasted so much from the one he had earlier. He looked down intently, eyes laced with concern and care.
You couldn’t care less about the purse. You latched himself to his arm, happy to be with him again. “Yeah, I want to go home,” you said quietly. All that stress had tired you out suddenly. You quickly said goodbyes to the other members of the group, unaware of what just happened.
He led you out of the flashing club, strobes painting him a million different colors. He got out to valet, giving some bills to the person working. Soon, his car appeared in front of you. Everything was moving so fast, you hadn’t realized how fast your heart was beating.
The car door was opened for you. You detached from Joe and slid in. He got in the driver’s seat. You stared forward, zoned out and shaken. You rubbed the skin near your elbow. It was still flush, with a slightly purple bruised undertone.
In your haze, you looked over at Joe. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. His eyes were dark and he looked extremely tense.
Your house was in front of you now, car in park and both of you just sitting in the drivers seat. You realized he was looking at you, eyes repeatedly glancing over you, as if he missed something before.
You looked back at him. “Can we go inside?” you whispered. You weren’t really sure why you whispered, but the air in the car was so stagnant that you felt you had to.
“Yea,” he responded gently. He got out pf the drivers seat, walking around to open the door for you. He held out his hand, and you took it. He led you into your large house, you trailing him slightly. He locked the door behind you.
His stillness gave you the opportunity to interlink your fingers with his, moving yourself closer to him. You wanted him and only him right now. He was the only one that made you feel calm. You ignored texts from your friends who witnessed the event asking if you were alright and what happened. You wanted Joe. He gently squeezed your hand as he led you up the stairs to your bedroom, then to the bathroom.
Your makeup was out from before you left, and your robe was still on the floor. It was quiet.
Joe went and turned on your shower, large with marble tile lining the walls. The glass of the shower door fogged up with warm condensation.
“Hey,” he came up behind you and gently rubbed your shoulders. “You wanna take this off?” He fiddled with the straps of your dress. He sounded so gentle, such a contrast of his anger earlier in the evening. You leaned back against him, weary.
“Yeah,” you nearly whispered. He unzipped it and gently slid the straps off your shoulders. He dropped the dress, allowing it to pool around your ankles. You had kicked off your shoes sometime going up the stairs, so you were soon bare in front of him.
You reached forward to pull him closer to you. He had been watching with a concerned expression, as if he didn’t want to overwhelm you at all. You got to work on the buttons of his shirt while he unzipped and dropped his pants.
He stepped into the steamy shower first, pulling you in after him. He pulled the door closed behind you, and the both of you just looked at each other. He looked down at you, hair tousled and wet, scanning you over and over checking on you, even though you were fine. You just looked up at him, breathing in the humid warm air of the shower. Slowly, you found yourself melting into him, head on his chest just leaning into him. He held you, resting his head on the top of yours. His embrace was so secure that you felt apart of him, and never wanted to be any other way.
“Are you okay?” He leaned down to whisper in your ear, again quiet even though the whole house was to yourselves.
“Yea, that was scary,” you sighed muffled into his slick chest. You lifted your arms up to put over his shoulders, letting him hold you tighter.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said in a low voice, full of care. Then you realized why he looked the way he did. He blamed himself.
“Joe,” you freed yourself enough to look back up at him. “None of this is your fault, at all. I’m okay, just a little shaken up. I’m just glad you didn’t do anything to lose your job. I know how much you love what you do, and I never want that to be taken from you because of me.”
He furrowed his brows at you slightly, as if you said something he didn’t understand. He lifted his hands to cup for cheeks, left thumb running over your cheekbone and lips.
“It’s not about the football, you know that right? Not when it comes to you.” He spoke passionately, looking into your eyes as if pleading for you to understand. Your breath was hitched in your throat. “I will lose my job a thousand times for you, and I won’t ever let it get in the way of anything between us. I’ll never let anything or anyone hurt you. I love you, more than anything. Nothing is a burden when it comes to you, and it never will be okay?”
He looked at you so earnestly and with so much emotion. You swallowed, only able to look at him. You realized then that he expected an answer. He wanted to know that you really understood him.
“Okay,” you whispered. He looked down at you through his dripping short strands of hair, and kissed you so gently. He was treating you like you were something priceless, breathing out “I love you”s in between light kisses. He didn’t stop, but he didn’t deepen them either. He gripped your damp skin with his fingers, holding you like he was about to lose you.
The sour memories of the night faded when Joe touched you, and in the steamy fog and hot water, you found your place. Night clubs were overrated.
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