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tintinwrites · 4 years

Text

dollface | Mob Boss!Poe Dameron x Reader | Part Four

A/N: These two are fun to write!

Rating: M

Warning: Smut, over 18. Naughty words. This is pretty soft which means there aren’t really any warnings other than penetration?

Word count: 3,294, apparently!!

Summary: You're staying in Poe’s manor when you make love enjoy each other for the first time.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

GIF credit: I have no idea, but it’s not mine. If anyone knows whose it is, please let me know!

Tags: @twomoonstwosuns @writefightandflightclub @fanfic-addict-98 @bisexual-space-slut @starlightstories @yougottakeeponkeepinon @dogsandrocketsocks @himbopoes @agentpike @greengrassandcyansea @arkofblake @bunkybarnesbxtch Let me know if I forgot to tag you or if you want to be tagged!

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You’d been staying at Poe’s for a few nights now, sometimes leaving the speakeasy with him and sometimes skipping the speakeasy altogether.

Not much transpired between the two of you aside from some similar heavy petting and perhaps a glance of each other’s silhouettes, but you knew he was waiting for you to tell him you were ready to go all the way with him.

He seemed to be okay with only touching you and being touched, and he also enjoyed someone laying in bed next to him as much as you enjoyed the way his hips nestled into you.

It was nice to lay next to someone even if you didn’t plan on falling in love with anyone.

His home was large, practically a manor, and decorated in a way you were sure he hired someone for since he seemed much too relaxed for this much grandness.

There was a large grand entrance with a set of stairs on either side of the room, and the ground floor had far too many rooms with chairs and couches; there was a sitting room to your right when you entered, then if you went between the staircases where Poe’s office was nestled, there was a living room and a parlor in one direction and a family room in the other. These two hallways also held some powder rooms, and the room in the entrance across from the sitting room was a grandiose dining room that led to a lavish kitchen.

The second floor was similar to the ground floor in that you could go one direction or the other and there would be many rooms to choose from, but the only things other than bedrooms and powder rooms were a music room and a study.

You peeked into most of the rooms, but you spent most of your time in the music room, the study, and Poe’s bedroom.

His room was as richly decorated as the rest of the house with a large bed and expressionist paintings on the walls, but you could see that he would often lazily leave his suit jacket on the back of an ornately carved chair or drop some money on his expensive looking chest of drawers.

You loved that he lived in such beauty but still made it comfortable for himself and you.

You wanted him to make himself comfortable in your beauty, too, if he thought you were beautiful, which you were pretty sure he did.

The expertly styled curls in your hair were loosened a bit and you put on a tiny, little negligee he’d purchased for you that he told you would be worn when you wanted it.

It was quite scandalous even by your standards, with the lace trim on the bottom a few inches right there at your knee and the thick trim at the top revealing about half your breasts.

You wanted him to see it, to want you, to show him that you wanted him in that special sort of way that you’d waited for because it meant more to you with him than it did with all those other fellas.

Were you nervous because this was with Poe or because you were usually buzzed when you slept with men normally?

You weren’t sure, but you were picking at the hem of your nightgown as you knelt in bed, waiting for Poe.

He would usually join you quite early to enjoy touching you or squeezing you, and the hands on the clock were pointing that it was now ten at night.

When the clock moved to half past ten, you wondered if he decided he was bored of you now, if he wanted you to please him and you were taking too long, and now he was going to pay you no mind until you left.

It was slightly foolish to think that a man who had been happily touching you and kissing you was bored of you, and you decided to go down to his office to see what he was up to.

You padded down the carpeted hallway and down a set of stairs, turning to his office and knocking lightly.

“Come in.”

You opened the door and peeked in to see he was at his desk, writing. “Ain’t you coming to bed, baby?”

“In a minute.” He turned one paper over once the ink was dry enough and began writing on another.

“But I’m all dressed up for you.”

He glanced quickly, scribbling for a moment when his pen slid across the page and he lifted his eyes to stare at you with his mouth open; sure, he purchased that little negligee for you, wanting to see it on you, but he didn’t know it would look that good on you.

It was a little bit shorter than your shortest dresses, though his eyes were on the bit of lace at the top where he could see a glimpse of your nipples peeking out of the satin fabric.

Writing quickly, he pushed that paper aside without caring whether it was dry or not. “Let me do these few pages and then I’m all yours, dollface.”

You strolled over to the desk lazily, running your fingers over the edge of the wood then the back of his chair as you moved to stand behind him, pressing your nearly bare tits into his back.

“Sap,” you hummed, now moving your fingers down his arm until they came to rest on top of his hand.

“What are you doing?” He watched you move his hand and the pen in it to his well of ink, where you dipped the point of the pen.’

“Can you put down a fresh piece of paper for me?” You kissed the side of his head noisily, your lips moving down his cheek and to the line of his jaw.

“Of course.” He pulled open a drawer without looking and took out a blank piece of paper, laying it on top of the ones he’d been working on as he watched you fill the pen.

You carefully gripped both his hand and the pen and began writing letters in a lovely cursive that was only a little bit scribbled since you weren’t using your own hand, his gaze following each little loop you made.

You dotted a period at the end of what you’d written then pulled his hand back to let him see.

Fuck me.

There it was on the page, written all pretty like one might write a cordial letter or an invitation, and Poe was pretty sure he’d never read anything that turned him on more.

“Look at the time,” you said when he turned his head to kiss you, and he looked down to see you moving your hand up and sensually tracing around the face of his watch.

“I know, I know—” He tried again to kiss you and you pulled away.

“I really should be getting to bed.”

“Don’t you dare.”

He dropped the pen, grasping at your hand then your arm, letting you move away from him where you stood at the door and faked a yawn. “I’m simply worn to a frazzle.”

He put his hands on his desk and slowly stood, staring at you.

Then he raced around the desk and you ran out of the room, laughing loudly as you sped up the stairs.

You could hear his footsteps behind you as he chased you up the stairs and a few little laughs from him, but when you ran into the bedroom, he didn’t come barreling in behind you moments later.

Peeling yourself away from the wall where you’d hidden to jump out at him, you put your head out the door and looked down the hallway for him.

You didn’t see him walking up the stairs or anywhere down the other end of the hallway.

There was only one other room down the other side of the hallway and you decided to glance down anyway, your eyes landing on the buttons of a waistcoat, trailing up and looking into Poe’s eyes.

“Boo.” He grinned as you let out a little scream, stepping forward and backing you into the room until you were standing at the foot of the bed.

“My mother is very strict.” Your words didn’t mean very much when you were giggling, falling onto the bed.

“And yet you’re in a mobster’s bed in this sinful little outfit.” He started to crawl onto the bed which made you willingly lay back, letting him on top of you.

“I’m not as strict.” You gazed at him.

He kissed the tip of your nose, moving down and beginning to suck one of your nipples that was partly covered in lace and partly covered in satin, soaking the fabric quickly as you arched against his mouth and gripped tightly onto his slicked curls.

His lips kissed along the seam between the two materials and he wrapped his lips around your other nipple, sucking lightly.

Your eyes fluttered closed, simply enjoying the sensation of his wet tongue pressing into you, but you opened them and gripped tighter to his hair when he began running his nose down the length of your body. “Not that.”

Though you smiled slightly adoringly when he nuzzled into your thigh, pushing the lingerie up a little further. “You don’t like it when I eat you?”

“I love it when you eat me, but I was thinking maybe you could...put it to me.” You were not shy, but there was something much more intimate about sex with Poe than with any other man.

“You mean...you meant what you wrote, dollface?” He rubbed his hand up and down your thigh slowly.

You nodded, smiling softly and reaching down to run your fingers along his jawline. He leaned into your gentle touch.

He moved to kiss you then moved away to stand at the foot of the bed, loosening his tie.

“Let me?” You moved onto your hands and knees, crawling to him.

His suit jacket was somewhere downstairs wherever he decided to put it down, now in only his dress shirt, waistcoat, and pants.

You tugged his tie out from under the vest carefully, untying the knot sliding it from his neck to drop it on the floor. Next you unbuttoned his waistcoat and he shrugged it off, moaning softly as you kissed his skin with each opened button of his shirt.

Pulling his suspenders off his shoulders, you untucked his shirt as you opened the rest of the buttons and pushed it off him.

Your hand was purposeful when you reached down to his pants, knuckles brushing over and gently pressing into the slight bulge, undoing the fastenings.

He removed his shoes and socks and stepped out of his pants, standing in front of you in those little boxer shorts that showed off very much of men.

You pushed your hand into the tight fabric to grasp his half-hard cock, stroking him as your other hand pushed the striped underwear down to his knees.

He stood there with his hips bucking slightly, enjoying hardening in your talented hand for a moment before he gently grasped your wrist to hold you back as he stepped out of the boxers and climbed onto the bed.

You scooted a little bit back to allow him the room, lifting your arms when he grabbed the hem of your nightgown, which he lifted over your head and you smiled widely at him.

“I’m not sure I’ve told you how beautiful your body is.” He grasped your waist, laying you down.

“I believe you mentioned it across the table today as we drank our coffee.” You reached down to stroke him again.

He grunted, his fingers tickling down your side and your thigh, pushing between your folds where he gently rubbed at your clit to make you wet. “That was about your lips, kitten.”

“Which ones?” You kissed him, moaning into his mouth as the two of you caressed each other with your hands.

His fingers were sliding against you a little easier and he moved his hand to the outside of your thigh, bringing your leg to hook around his waist.

You shifted a bit as his tip pushed against your entrance, helping him to line up right with your hand around him.

He laughed slightly at the sensation of your walls pressing around his tip when he pushed forward a little bit. “Can’t even tell you how many times I’ve thought about this. Are you okay being underneath me?”

You put your hand on his shoulder now that he was pushing inside you, nodding.

“This is perfect. You...you’re perfect.” You gasped and moaned as he thrust forward, filling you.

“I thi—think you’re confusing me with yourself, sweetheart.” He was trying to think beyond how nice it felt to be inside of you, dropping his head to your shoulder for a moment.

“Oh, Poe, I’m pretty sure you’re the biggest man I’ve ever been with.”

“Oh, shit.”

His cock twitched inside you at that, head nuzzling into your shoulder more, and he gripped onto your thigh tightly.

You kissed his head, pressing your nose into his mussed up hair that made his beautiful curls more obvious. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“It’s, um...I need to take a moment or this is going to be very disappointing for you.” He chuckled.

“Oh, sweet man, you could do that right now and I wouldn’t be disappointed.” You gently pulled at his hair to free the rest of it from its product.

“How is that possible?”

“I’m with you.”

He pulled away, eyes full of lust and his smile soft. “Sap.”

You gaped at him. “Who are you calling a sap, you...dollface.”

“Oh, thank you, you really think that?”

“You’re maddening.”

Poe kissed you deeply, holding onto you as he pulled back and rocked forward slowly.

It only took a few thrusts into you as he moaned and you gasped for him to find a steady rhythm, moving his hand off your thigh to hold himself over you.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, pulling his lips away from yours and pressing kisses to his chin, his jaw, his nose, then leaning your head against his.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered into your ear, grunting at how tightly your cunt squeezed him with a particularly sharp thrust.

“You make me believe it too.”

He began peppering kisses along your neck and collarbone as his hips sped up a little bit, one of his hands snaking between you to rub circles on your clit, smiling against your skin at the little moan and roll of your hips.

When he gazed up at you from where he was kissing you, the adoring look in his eyes made various parts of you flutter pleasantly.

No man ever looked at you like Poe did.

Your mouth opened slightly at a thrust that made his cock rub up against a part inside of you that made your thighs tingle, and he cocked an eyebrow. “Right there?”

You nodded, letting out the most beautiful little moan he’d ever heard when he angled his thrust that way again.

He saw that you looked like you were about to say something, but you looked away.

“What do you need?”

“I don’t usually worry about telling men that once we’re at this part.”

“Tell me. Tell me. Anything. Whatever you need, I will do it.”

“Could you...could you move a little faster? Your fingers and cock.”

He moaned at the filthy word and snapped his hips a little quicker into yours, his fingers sliding over your tingling, almost pleasantly numb clit.

You didn’t understand why looking at him made your heart hurt somewhere deep down when you liked him so much or why you wanted to kiss him more than anyone you’d ever wanted to kiss before, but you grabbed onto his shoulders anyway and pulled him closer with a softly begged, “Kiss me. Kiss me?”

His brow furrowed in a little confusion, but he smiled sweetly and pressed his lips to yours firmly.

You gripped onto his cheeks as you kissed him back passionately, whimpering and pressing your hips against his.

You pulled away from the kiss with a little gasp, your head thumping back against the pillows.

Poe ran the tip of his nose down the center of your neck, hissing softly.

“You’re close. I can tell by those wiggling hips of yours and you’re starting to squeeze me…”

“Right there, Poe, yes…”

His attention to your clit and that spot inside you he kept stroking against were enough to send you tumbling over the edge, your hands moving to his shoulder and pulling yourself up against him as you clamped down onto him tightly.

You were silent at first with your jaw dropped and your brow furrowed as you came that hard, only letting out a moan and falling against the mattress when your muscles released and you fluttered around Poe again and again.

“Tell me where to come, baby, please. Please.” Poe was whining a little bit, slowing his thrusts down though he wanted to fuck into you until he came, not wanting to release inside you if you didn’t want him to.

“On my thighs,” you mumbled, still riding out your high and only slightly knowing what question you were answering.

He nodded, thrusting sloppily a few times before quickly pulling himself out of you, coming all over your thighs with a soft cry of pleasure.

He pumped himself to extend his orgasm as much as he could, then let himself fall on top of you.

You didn’t mind his weight on you, humming happily and leaning your head into his.

You lifted your hand to gently run the tips of your fingers along his shoulder and down the back of his arm, moving to slide over his ribs and smiling at his muscles twitching slightly under the light tickling.

“Was that good?” He moved to lay beside you, resting his head on your breasts and gazing up at you like a man much softer than a mob boss usually was.

“I’ve never come on a man like that before that I recall.” You pushed your fingers into his hair.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever come with any other man, though it was fun.”

He stared at you, sitting up on his elbow and grasping your chin gently. “Your pleasure is my priority, okay?”

You gazed at him with gratitude in your eyes for thinking of you, grabbing onto his wrist and pulling his hand away as you nestled into his chest.

“You want me to clean you up, sweetheart?”

“I want you to hold me for a little bit.”

Poe lifted your head and stroked over your hair, pressing a couple chaste, tender kisses to your sweet lips.

You nuzzled your nose into his, then hid your face against his neck.

It was strange to enjoy someone as much as you enjoyed him, but you would never allow him the power of being in love with him.

No matter how kind, and handsome, and charming, and humorous he was, you were not going to fall for it like some little fool who let men run around breaking her heart.

He squeezed you tighter, pulling your hips snug against his, and you smiled softly.

He sure was wonderful, perhaps the one man you might fall in love with if you allowed it.

You would not allow such a thing, though, when you liked him too much.

“I’d be happy to snuggle up as one with you again in a few minutes if you want to.”

“You’re perfect, dollface.”

#poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #star wars imagine #poe dameron fic

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itssolonelyhere · 4 years

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I dont know if you prompts or requests but can you do a Sakura or Joker being sick and the other having to take care of them from Tyaku and Queen? I like both versions of her from each and wonder how theyd react to it.

To be honest, I never gave it any thought. This is a good idea to flex my writing muscles and give me a break from the mountain of revisions I’m working on. I’ll give it a go and hopefully, it’s not too bad… I’ll do one for Tsūyaku now and when I’m done work, another for Queen of the Rhombus. If you have any more, I don’t mind doing them.

Tsūyaku – Sakura’s sick in bed when J comes back from a job.

It's hot. Too damn hot.

Sakura groans and tears her eyes away from the ceiling to stare out the window. The snow's still falling and it doesn't seem as if it'll stop soon. It's a beautiful sight that would have delighted her on most days, but she can't find it in herself to relish the view.

Green eyes watch the feathered crystals dancing in the wind, twirling around as it gently falls to the ground. It's a struggle to crane her neck up, hoping to see how much area it covers since she fell asleep. To her surprise, everything outside is pure white, leaving nothing untouched. The dead trees and grass, the bench where she likes to sit on to read, the van parked alongside the building, even the wrap-around porch. All blanketed by winter's frosty kiss and it's so dazzling that it's hard to look at for too long.

The darkening sky is still white, but she can tell it's getting late without rolling over to check the clock. Dropping against the mattress, Sakura lets out a shuddered breath and swallows hard. Being sick is a miserable experience that leaves her with nothing to do aside from mulling over everything that worries her. It's foolish, she knows, but part of her is still concerned.

Joker's been gone for a few days, which isn't unusual at all. Sometimes he stays for brief periods in the city for his 'job', but always comes back. Usually, it's with a cocky smirk and filthy clothes, yet on those few occasions that he doesn't… Someone ends up in the basement where he spends hours doing God-knows-what with his tools. The pinkette knows what goes on down there and it's not a secret, either.

That area is off-limits, especially to her, and Rocco is the only one that's alive who's seen it. If curiosity got the best of her and she took a tour, it will only haunt the pinkette's days and night. She doesn't enjoy that kind of 'entertainment' and Joker knows that. Snooping around might end up in a little punishment, but that's about it. Anyone else would be terrified at the thought, and rightfully so. Her discipline doesn't end with broken bones, missing limbs, or death.

Hearing the familiar stomping up the stairs, Sakura wants to push herself up the bed to greet him. Another trickle of sweat trails along the pale skin of her face from the effort, but she can't muster the strength to even sit up. It's pathetic to find herself in such a state, especially with her abilities. The pinkette can't remember the last time she was sick, let alone to this degree. With a strained groan, she gives up and settles into the mattress, waiting for him to burst through the door.

The doorknob twists and she peers over the fluffy duvet to see a tall figure standing at the threshold. Just as she expects, Joker looks like a mess as he stalks into the bedroom, leaving a wet trail of shoe prints across the hardwood floor. His purple trench coat has splotches of ash and dried blood, mixed with other substances she'd rather not think about. The greasepaint is smeared and missing in patches, revealing his tan skin beneath, with the rest weeping down his face. As always, J's hair is a faded, stringy mess that never listens to any commands, just like its owner. No matter when she catches him, he forever has the appearance of a wild madman.

And that's just fine.

Right away, his brow furrows when he notices her lying beneath the covers, unnaturally pale and sweaty. Usually, Sakura is busy doing something or another, whether it's reading or wrapped up in a craft. Not today. Those black pits in his sockets narrow on her as he shrugs off his trench coat, tossing it over the back of a chair. They make her want to shrink into nothingness, no matter how many times she gazes into them.

He moves to stand at the end of the bed, staring without saying a word. It's hard to tell if he's in a pleasant mood or not when it's like this. No one's better at keeping everything hidden than him, whether it's his thoughts, feelings, or intentions.

"I missed you…" Her voice is low and raspy, trying to suppress a cough working its way up. All-day the pinkette's been hacking up and the sensation of blades dancing along her throat won't go away.

The side of his mouth quirks up at her words, even if it seems like someone's tugging on it with a fishline. She knows Joker won't repeat it back, but it's his eyes that give him away. He always says they're the gateway to the soul and in the privacy of their room, they can reveal what his words won't.

"You're sick." It's not a question or guess, and she knows it. He can always tell when something's off or not right, no matter if she tries to hide it. They grew up together, and he's already seen it all, even if she's still missing pieces to their puzzle.

Sakura gives him a weary, apologetic smile, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. When he comes home, she likes to greet him and show how much she missed him, whether he disappears for a day or five. Right now, her aching muscles can't bear to even get herself up.

"Hmm…" Joker grunts and saunters off towards the bathroom and she almost calls after him. From the looks of his clothes, he can use a good shower, but those are trivial matters to him. Even if she wants to spend time with him, he's a busy man and has been gone for days.

Sighing, the pinkette leans back against the pillow and closes her eyes. Jack will come to her when he's ready and needs his space. Who knows what kind of shit-show he just pulled off? She might as well try to get some sleep and hopefully, this sickness will run its course faster.

'I need to get better soon. I'm useless like this.'

Something sopping wet and cold drops onto her face, jolting Sakura back to her senses. Sputtering from the water running down her skin, she reaches up in surprise and yanks it away. Joker's looming over the side of the bed and arches a brow, trying to hold back a cackle she knows is coming. Glancing at her hand, there's a soaking, wet rag he didn't bother wringing out.

'Fucking figures…'

"Keep it on your forehead, doll." Despite his expression, there's something playful in his pitch-dark, glassy eyes. When she doesn't move, he snatches the rag and folds it over, smacking it against her forehead. Beads of cold water trail down her temples into the pink hair strewn over the pillow and she bites her lip to keep back a retort. Most people would see this as being heavy-handed and crude, but she knows better. This is his version of care and it's the best he can do. This is more than she can ask for. It's the intent and effort that's appreciated, even if J's harsh with everything he does.

The cool rag feels heavenly against her heated skin and she breaks out in goosebumps from the difference. A breathy sigh spills from her lips and he smirks at the reaction.

"We're not done yet." Sakura finally notices what's in his gloved hand. A bottle of medicine and a spoon. She has no clue where the spoon came from and doesn't ask. It'll only result in a vague or arrogant remark, neither she wants to deal with at the moment.

Watching him fiddling with the cap, the pinkette can't help recalling all the times she did this in the past for him. Eight years ago, when his mouth was healing after being slashed open. He consistently kept tearing the stitches open, and they became so infected, yet he refused to go to the hospital. Jack was always so goddamn stubborn and never listens, even if it results in making himself suffer twice as long.

"Open up." The spoon is right near her lips, and she grimaces from the strong scent of the medication. It's dark red and reminds her of blood, but she'd rather smell that over this. Noticing her expression and distaste, gloved fingers pinch her stuffy nose, and she reluctantly opens her mouth. The nasty liquid runs down her throat as the metal clangs against her teeth, making sure she takes all of it.

"Don't spit it out or I'll have to punish ya." Joker pops his lips, ignoring the way she's kicking her feet around under the covers and the disgruntled noises eating away at the small amount of energy she has left. It's disgusting, and he knows how much she hates medicine, but she needs it. Sometimes people have to do what's necessary for the ones they care about.

"Gross!" She swats his hand away from her nose, letting annoyance overpower her exhaustion. If looks can kill, Batman would have one less chaotic problem to deal with.

"How 'bout ya just relax? Hmm? Ya won't get better by being a pain in the ass." This time, J doesn't restrain the cackle that's been building up in his chest. It's harsh on the ears, but Sakura finds it enjoyable and contagious, causing her annoyance to wane. She can never stay angry at him long, no matter what he does.

"That's my girl." He leans down and kisses the tip of her nose, leaving a red smudge behind. That only makes his fit worse, falling into hysterics. She never understands why he finds leaving greasepaint on her face so funny, but that doesn't stop her from smiling.

"Heh. Looks good on ya." Grabbing the rag, he wipes it off before dropping it back in place. She frowns at the water running down her neck, even if it feels good. J is such a weird man, but she loves him anyway in all his vicious glory.

Joker's eyes don't leave hers as he toes off his battered dress shoes and starts plucking the buttons of his green waistcoat. When he was standing next to the bed, she noticed everything's wet and cold from being out in the snow. If the pinkette wasn't so sick, she'd help take it all off for him and use herself as bait to tempt the clown into a hot shower. That's the best way to get him cleaned up, otherwise, he doesn't care about any of it. He'll go filthy for days without batting one of those heavy, shadowy lids.

"How'd it go? Did you guys have any problem with the snow?" Jack frowns after throwing his belt on the floor when the inquiry causes a coughing fit that makes her small body shake beneath the duvet. His lip curls up and she thinks he's about to snarl, but it doesn't come. Stamping across the hardwood floor, he clicks his tongue and throws the covers off his side of the bed and flops down.

For a moment, Sakura thinks he might be angry that she asked. Since the day they ran into each other, he never really liked talking about his 'job' to her but has been opening up a little more as time goes by. Sometimes he complains about a goon making a grievous error that Joker rectifies with a bullet or attempts to lure the Bat out from whatever cave he's been hiding in after Dent's death. The pinkette finds it all fascinating and exciting, even if it's terrible, but this is who Jack is now. He revels in the explosions and fires, all the mayhem and complicated plans.

"Shaddap if it hurts to talk." He grunts and slides across the mattress, dragging the duvet back over. Sakura shifts to look at him, watching the clown leaning his bare back against the headboard. The muscle in his cheeks twitches and he mutters something under his breath, but she can't pick up on it.

'What's he doing now?'

"C'mere." Despite telling her to come to him, he scoots over and the bed dips under his weight. Laying on his side, J moves closer until there's no room left. She knows he missed her, even if the words won't come out. Actions always speak louder and prove more than anything else. Sweet-nothings and heartfelt confessions are what most people yearn for, but Sakura would rather a man show her the truth than speak lies.

This is his form of care, even if it's gruff and obnoxious. Jack's violent, arrogant, manipulative, and downright cruel most of the time. However, it's those specks in between that’s saved especially for her that makes the rest inconsequential. The clown keeps her safe from the other monsters that lurk in the shadows throughout the city. They won't hesitate to rip her to pieces or abuse her ability, unlike this man. He likes the pinkette staying whole, even if their nights result in minor cuts and bruises in the shape of a large hand or long fingers. It's nothing she can't heal and they both have fun causing them. That's what happens when a man's rough in bed and he does it right.

Sakura closes her eyes when he buries his face in her hair, greedily breathing in her scent. J treats it like huffing in fumes he's trying to high from and never wants to stop. A hand slithers under the sheets and rests on her abdomen, drawing lazy circles over the thin fabric of her shirt with his fingers. He's been doing this more often lately, and she's not sure why but is worried he might stop if she asks. It's soothing and helps lull her into a peaceful state, letting all the worries from outside the bedroom melt right off her shoulders. Nothing matters anymore, except the two of them.

The small action elicits a groan from the pinkette as she leans her head against his chest, finding a comfortable spot. His skin is always so warm as if the fire he loves so much dances just beneath the surface. It's like having a safe, heated blanket wrapped around her that no one can get through. As long as she stays here, nothing can touch her besides him and the thought is oddly pleasant.

"Well, doll… Since ya asked so nicely and you're stuck in bed, might as well give ya some entertainment while I'm here." Sakura knows what that means. He wants to paint a vivid picture of his exploits from his excursion in the city, yet is trying to make it seem like he's doing her a favor. The showman in him enjoys the applause and awe he's able to draw out from her by giving every gory detail and miraculous feat, becoming completely smug from his ingenuity and perseverance.

"Great. I want to hear it." She coughs again and her voice is still raspy. He can feel her muscles jolt from each one as his fingers pulse against the flimsy material. The moment the fit stops, the pinkette jerks when he pinches her cheek, giving it a little tug to get his point across.

"I thought I told ya not to talk if it hurts? Hmm?" Glancing up, he has an exaggerated frown that almost looks like a wide smile from her angle. His tongue snakes out to prod the broken skin of his scar, waiting until she slowly nods before continuing.

"Good. Just re-lax and I'll tell ya all about my little run-in with the, ah, Bat."

#Heath Ledger Joker #joker #joker x sakura #oneshot #care #couple stuff #sweet and sour #caveman #the dark knight #crossover #Sakura Haruno #Naruto crossover #fanfiction #medicine #crime #request #I like this

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