#gambled away fic

[itsyou-itsme-itsus]

Gambled away: Chapter 4

Dark!Steve x fem!reader

Warnings: 18 + ONLY MINORS DNI!!! Noncon, themes of Stockholm/kidnapping and CNC. Oral sex male and female receiving. P in V intercourse. gagging, spit. Unprotected sex (stay safe wrap it up) use of Daddy. rough sex. (If this bothers you please scroll on by. Its 100 percent fantasy.) 

Notes: This one might be long. 

Steve hung up the phone, he couldn’t see what you and Nat had put together for him. It would be about 12:30 am when he finally made it home. He stepped out into the brisk chilly night air, just outside Stark industries.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you, how he wanted to feel you tightly wrapped around him as he sunk his full length inside of you. He took a moment listening to the sounds of the city, cars honk and the clatter of trash cans.

Fury had called about Scott trying to make a police report on Steve. Nat had left the safe house where you were being kept to go straight to the police station to handle the situation. Maybe a little jail time would help Scott to get over you.

Steve climbed into the drivers seat shutting the door, when the passengers side door swung open and Sharon jumped in.

“Hey.” She smiled, she had a black hoodie pulled over her uniform.

“What do you want Sharon?” Steve grumbled, annoyed with yet another obstacle stopping him from wetting his dick with your pussy.

“I just thought we’d go have a couple drinks tonight, its been awhile.” She grinned her hand reached out and caressing Steve’s knee with her finger tips.

Steve sighed and peeled her hand away and setting it back in her lap. They had dated a couple years ago and it was fun having someone like her, who would jump in on being a dirty cop for him, Bucky and Nat. After awhile he had gotten bored with her clinginess and jealousy.

“I’m busy Sharon, go home.” Steve started up the car and Sharon ignored him, she stayed in the car.

“That’s ok, I can go home with you and we can hang out after you’re done.” She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and scratched at the back of Steve’s neck.

It was Sharon’s way of letting Steve know she wanted to be the one for him to take out all his sexual aggression on.

Steve didn’t say anything he pulled out of the parking spot and began driving. He headed towards Sharon place to avoid the possible conflict if she found out Steve was keeping you.

Sharon had never been the type he could imagine having kids with, she was too selfish and conniving to be a stay at home mom. Maybe she’d be perfect for someone else but she admitted she didn’t even want kids. Although that didn’t mean she wasn’t the type to get pregnant just to keep someone around.

You on the other hand, Steve knew you’d make a great wife and a stay at home mom. He was never the type to get married and live a white picket fence life. If he liked you after tonight and you were a real peach in bed, He won’t pass up on that opportunity.

The streets were wet from a rain fall earlier that evening. The traffic lights reflected off the shiny asphalt. Sharon’s apartment was seven blocks away which would put Steve back about 20 minutes.

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Sharon had been talking about something she did with Carol and Sam. He couldn’t be bothered to give her any of his mind’s attention as you had reserved all the space for the night.

The picture Nat had sent him with you laying on the bed, sitting up with your back against the head board. The same one he’d be gripping for leverage later on. Your cleavage looked stunning as the red dress clung tightly to each curve. Your makeup was perfect just enough to ruin it.

Thought of kissing those ruby red plump lips. His favorite part was how Nat positioned you, your legs slightly spread so he could see the outline of your puffy sex through the red panties. How the thigh highs hugged just right to the thickest part of your legs. The way she almost got you to smile just for him.

Steve almost missed the turn, the tires screeched loudly as they skidded across the wet ground.

“Whoa, someone’s eager.” Sharon laughed as they turned the corner. He was eager, just not for Sharon.

Steve parked his car just on the curb in front of the door that lead to the staircase of Sharon’s apartment complex.

“Go change into something sexier. I don’t want to fuck a cop.” Sharon rolled her eyes a chuckled but she listened and practically bounced out of the car.

Steve waited watching her disappear up the stairs, he could only see to the second floor. Sharon lived on the third floor, 4th apartment back. He waited a few minutes to be sure that she was on her floor before he curved the tires and peeled out.

Steve sped the entire way home, the clock in the car read 12:15am. It didn’t matter if you were sleeping or not when Steve got home, you’d wake up with his cock buried deep inside of you.

Sharon put on the small light blue dress, not only did it look great in contrast to her blonde hair and blue eyes, Steve had loved her ass in it. She fixed her hair and pulled on the blue strappy heels to match.

Sharon knew in her gut Steve had ditched her, the space where he had been was empty except for some trash.

“Steve?” She yelled out and walked a few feet, her hips swaying and heels clacking on the wet side walk.

She peered around the corner and then looked down both sides of the street, Steve’s car was gone.

“Fuck!” She spat, marching angrily into her apartment building. The sound of her heel magnified in the empty hallway. She pulled her phone out and began to call Carol.

“I think he likes that cunt!” Sharon growled into the phone slamming the door behind her with one foot.

“What do you want to do?” Carol asked she sat at the station with her feet propped up on the desk.

“Find out what you can about her from Scott. Pretend like you’re going to help him if you want.” Sharon snapped before hanging up. She kicked her heels off one flying across the room and the other one just a few feet away.

****************

Your stomach gurgled and you weren’t sure if it was from hunger or nerves. You had tried to sleep hoping that would save you from Steve’s advances if he got back too late. You knew it was late but didn’t know exactly what time it was.

It didn’t feel safe to leave the room so you paced around like a caged tiger at the zoo. The slam of the front door had your heart racing. You stood back from the door staring at it as if it were going to jump at you.

It seemed like time stopped and all you could hear was the blood rushing to your ears. Slowly the knob started to turn. It swung open to reveal Steve, he wore a blue button up dress shirt with the sleeves revealing his forearms and perfectly fitted slacks.

He was breathing heavily, He looked feral as he glanced over your appearance. He advanced towards you, making you back up until you bumped into the bed.

Steve towered over you, your body flush against his. His hands took a moment to follow the curves of your body that the dress accentuated beautifully. You remembered once your mother had told you not to let boys get too close to you, because once their hands started roaming it would feel like their hands were everywhere. This was the first time you truly understood what she meant. Steve pressed his forehead against yours, His hands sliding over your shoulders beneath the thin straps. He pushed them down running his hands over your arms. When the dress came dangerously close to sliding the material down exposing your breasts you jerked your arms up to block him. He squeezed your arms painfully as a warning. 

“I’m tired of waiting.” He growled, the material brushing your nipples causing them to pebble. He leaned forward and kiss you, his lips parting yours so he could slip his tongue in your mouth. You didn’t kiss him back, but you allowed him to do what he wanted. 

The dress was below your rib cage. One hand cupped your chin roughly tilting your head up. His tongue pushed against yours, finally you gave in and moved your tongue and lips with his. His other hand calloused and strong groped your breasts. He squeezed them and ran his thumbs over the tips of your nipples. It coaxed out a soft moan that was swallowed by Steve’s hungry lips. Scott never touched you or kissed you like this. It was always gentle, and he’d always check in with you, asking for your consent. Steve was going to take what he wanted for from you, man handling your body. Your mind and body struggled with conflict. Tears streamed down your cheeks out of fear, yet you pressed your thighs together feeling an ache within, wetness pooling inside your panties. 

Steve’s hands followed your curves pushing the soft red material down to your hips. It snagged snuggly over your butt. He yanked downward the fabric ripping a little the material sat over your thighs pinning your legs together. He gripped your ass cheeks kneading and spreading them. Another moan slithered out from your throat. He couldn’t help himself he landed a sharp slap to your ass cheek feeling it jiggle before roughly grabbing it again. You whined and winced still smothered by his heated kiss. 

Steve pulled back looking over your body he shoved you back onto the bed, pulling the dress the rest of the way off. He sneered at the wet spot on your panties. 

“What a slutty pussy. You act like you don’t want me, but I know you do.”  He pushed your legs apart; you covered your face too embarrassed that you were becoming aroused by his touch. 

He drug his index finger from the wet spot up, pressing in to define your slit as he rubbed up until he pressed against your clit. the thin fabric doing very little to shield you from his touches. It only took a soft whimper before he was growing impatient with you. He pulled your panties off and knelt between your thighs. You smelled wonderful, he sniffed your soiled panties rubbing his nose along your slit, before kissing your upper thighs. His bread tickling your sensitive skin. It felt good, in away you hadn’t experienced before. He bit at the ample flesh making you squirm. Kissing his way along your folds tasting the sweet tanginess of your wet skin. He nuzzled closer as his hands pushed your thighs further apart. Your pussy betrayed you and flowered for him. He looked at you glisten and drip with sweet honey. His tongue dipped in gliding up opening your more, savoring the taste before he reached your pearl. He looked up to see you nervously looking down at him. 

He smirked before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking you groaned and your head tipped back. His tongue lashed at your clit, it made your legs tremble. Having not been able to touch yourself or to have alone time mixed with all the stress made it so much more sensitive to be touched in this way. 

Steve was careful to watch you, chest heaving as small moans escaped your reluctant lips. He attacked your clit with a feral hunger pushing you towards the edge, his beard adding to the sensation as it collected your nectar in it. That familiar coil heated deep within, tightening as that tingling feeling threatened to explode through your body like a super nova. It prickled its way along your spine, building to something stronger. You were beginning to lose your inhibitions. Steve liked upwards and began to kiss your stomach. 

“Steve! wh-a? please.” You begged feeling confused as to why he stopped. The coils cooled as your body felt feverish and your pussy cramped with an ache to be filled. 

“You’ll have to wait for making me wait for so long.” He kissed his way up your stomach leaving a trail of his saliva and your wetness. He kissed your breasts pushing his palms against the swell of them. He sucked one nipple into his mouth licking at the rubbery nub. His teeth grazing it gently making you arch your back and moan. 

His kisses continued until he was licking along your jawline. Steve made you taste your own arousal on his lips. This time you kissed him back with your own hunger. He got on his knees bringing you up with him. The sound of his buckling clanking open followed by the sound of his zipper he pulled his pants down. 

“Suck it.” He hissed fisting a handful of your hair as he pushed you down. His cock was huge, thick with an angry red bulbous tip, precum pearled at the end. You licked at it like a lollipop tasting the salty liquid. He pushed you down a few inches until your lips stretched around it and the tip poked your throat. You sucked in a deep breath trying not to gag. 

He let you lick at the base and adjust to his length and girth before pulling your head back until the tip was resting on your tongue. He didn’t move his hips he just pulled and pushed your head up and down his cock as if you were just a fleshlight. Your jaw ached trying to accommodate his size as he worked more and more of himself inside your throat. In and out he slid himself deeper, finally you heaved and coughed as he lodged his dick in your warm throat. Your nose touched his pubes, swallowing instinctively as if trying to get rid of the object blocking your air ways. You slapped his thighs and tried to push back in fear he’d suffocate you, he held you tightly against him before pulling back. You gasped for air feeling the burn as your lungs filled back up with air. 

spit and precum bubbled and dripped down your chin, He used your head to bob faster up and down his length not caring when you sputtered and gagged. His balls slapping your chin as he grunted, enjoying the feeling of your throat contract around his dick. He pulled you back with saliva and cum bridging between his angry red tip and your wet swollen lips. 

“Lay down.” He husked lust filling his tone. He kneeled between your legs rubbed his cock up and down your slit. His tip nudged your clit mixing his precum with your slick. 

“Beg me for it.” He demanded watching your face as he pushed his dick through your folds teasingly nudging at your entrance. Tears welled up in your eyes and you shook your head no. 

“So we want to be bratty huh?” Steve pulled back a bit before landing hard slap with his hand on your pussy. You tried to shut your legs but his body blocked you. The sting spread through your folds and into your clit. He pushed you legs open again and then landed another hard slap, this time it stung even more. 

“Aaah, Please Steve!” You cried out struggling to shield yourself but Steve caressed your clit with his thumb lowering your guard before delivering another rough slap to your pussy. You wailed and cried. It was becoming too painful and each time he slapped harder. 

“Please fuck my pussy! I need it! I need you!!” You trembled under him waiting for him to spank your pussy again. Instead he lined himself at your entrance again. He was bigger than Scott for sure. 

“Good girl.”

The tip pressed in already beginning to stretch you open, he went slow watching your tight hole spread wide to fit his length. His thumb rubbing circles over your clit. A gasp left your lips, and he grunted when the tip breached your walls. It would of been painful if you hadn’t been so wet. Still it tightly stretched over his girth like glove. Gripping the bed sheets you feared he would split you in half. 

“Please! it won’t fit!” you cried when he pushed deeper. Steve gently hushed you, like trying to calm a frightened child. He pushed in until his tip pressed hard against your cervix almost painfully, if he pushed anymore he might break through it. He held it there watching you struggle in discomfort trying to allow you to adjust to his size. 

Steve sighed in pleasure this was the moment he had been waiting for. It was so warm and tight hugging his cock perfectly. The pressure making his tip swell and his shaft twitch, He knew you could feel it too. He grabbed your breasts massaging them as he watched himself slide out inch by inch before resting the tip in the opening. Your walls clinging to him, trying to suck him back in. He pushed in feeling the delicious resistance again before bottoming out. He slowly repeated this in and out until you were panting and squirming. 

“Yeah, you like daddy’s cock?” He husked teasing your nipple as he found his rhythm thrusting faster. Your body bounced beneath him with each thrust. He loved how your breasts jiggled with each thrust. Your pussy felt raw and sore, still that familiar tightening of tingling coils began to heat again. His pubes stimulating your clit. 

“I asked you a question.” He hissed gripping your chin as he roughly pinched your nipple causing you to wince and whine.

“I-I love your cock.” Your voice sounded odd, small and submissive as it got lost in a sea of breathy moans. 

Steve’s fingers slide down finding your neck. He gently squeezed feeling your pulse under his thumb. He kept the same pace but was slamming in hard enough to bruise your cervix. You wailed bouncing roughly with each thrust in. He kept pulling your nipple taught, the pain mixed with pleasure only made your body tighten more ready to release an intense feeling you had never felt before. A heady euphoria set in each time Steve squeezed your throat a little more. To his surprise you wrapped your legs around his waist and began bouncing to meet his thrusts. 

“Steve!” You rasped chanting his name as your back arched, Steve realized you were close to cumming again. “Steve it hurts!” You cried.

“I know, it feels so good for daddy.” You began to tremble underneath Steve’s bulking frame. There was something about feeling so small beneath a man who was ruining you that made you feel so right. 

“You gonna cum for me baby? Yeah, come on, cum all over Daddy’s dick.” Steve thrust harder his lips trailing along your collarbone. 

“Yes! gonna cum for you daddy!” The words slipped out of your mouth before you knew what you were saying. Your whole body felt feverish and electrified as you tightened and loosened around him, a throbbing sensation cascaded from your belly and into your entire body. Steve did long strokes drawing out your orgasm as you shuddered and shook against him. Your walls clamped around his cock like a vice, pulsing and milking him. He grunted at the tighteness and the sounds of your high-pitched whines. Lewd squelching and slapping filled the room as your cream coated his thick cock.

Steve began pistoning in and out of you he pushed you pass your orgasm and overstimulating you. He planned to draw this out, but watching you come undone on his dick sent him over the edge. The whole bed violently slammed against the wall with his thrusts as you screamed for him.

“My dick is bigger than Scott’s isn’t it?” Steve growled in your ear. Steve pinned you down to the mattress by your throat.

“I want to hear you say it.” You could barely think as he pounded you roughly.

“Y-hess.” Incoherent garbles was all that came out as Steve coaxed one last orgasm from your body using it to milk his cock. His hands gripped your hips bruisning them as he pushed and pulled you slamming you up and down on his dick like a toy. 

“Fuck!” He groaned his thrusts growing sloppy as he pushed in deep pressed against your cervix. 

“N-nnnno-uh! Steve d-don cum in me. Please!” Steve ignored your pleas and moaned as the first spurts of hot cum splashed your walls. He huffed as he held you down by your hips tightly keeping you in place as He came filling your sore pussy. 

Sweat dripped off his brow as he stroked himself inside you, squeezing out the last drops of cum inside you. He waited until he began to soften before sliding it out. He did so with a slight pop causing the entrance of your used canal to tingle from sensitivity. Your pussy felt too empty as if it needed his dick to fill it. His cum oozed out of you and made a small puddle on the bed. You wanted to scream and panic about his cum sitting inside you.

What if you got pregnant? You would truly be trapped then. Steve laid down and pulled you close to him, your hot wet and sticky naked bodies pressed in warmth together. Despite Steve roughly taking you, the way he held you tightly to him, made you feel safe in this moment. It became harder and harder to stay awake. Steve peppered gentle kisses along the shell of your ear.

“You never answered me.” Steve husked basking in the glow of your post sex beauty.

“You are bigger.” As if he had won some feat he grinned pressing one last kiss to your temple before settling in. The two of you quickly fell asleep in a tangled mess of limbs and soiled sheets. Tags

Tags: @cjand10 @existentialvacuum

@helenaeisenhower @psychadelichues

#gambled away fic #steve rogers x you #dark steve x you #dark!Steve rogers #noncon fics #chris evans fanfiction #CE character #Steve Rogers #captain america

[good-wine-and-cheese]

Gambling Apocalypse Tenma AU

As I rewatch Kaiji I inevitably end up wanting to combine show I like with other show I like and stuffing fav characters into show. So here we are.

This was uh going to be a short summary type thing but I accidentally wrote a novella about it sorry

This AU starts off with a much more depressive Tenma. After Tobio's death, rather than immediately pour his grief into developing a robot version of his son, he recedes into himself, psychologically paralyzed, likely turning to alcohol to drown out his anguish.

His mental state is taken as an opportunity within the Ministry of Science to have him ejected from his position; Tenma was never the most well-liked director, and there were those with ambition to usurp him that would jump at the chance. Not that he especially cares in his state.

He's eventually dragged out of his stagnation by Ochanomizu - who, inadvertently, becomes the very catalyst pushing Tenma to develop a robot replacement to his child. This was not what he meant by encouraging Tenma to fill the void left by his son.

...But, well, he is no longer the director of the Ministry of Science. His access to limitless government funds and resources for "scientific research" has been cut off, and this is a project he cannot finance on his own. He can't ask Ochanomizu for help, but...interestingly...a representative of a certain shady organization known as the Teiai Corporation reaches out to him, offering to finance and support his project. A sane and well-minded Tenma might think better of it, but grieving and desperate, Tenma accepts their offer and is able to create a robot in the image of his beloved Tobio. For a while, there's joy in his life.

But the bill, as ever, comes due: Tenma must pay up, and the very resources that had been at his disposal will certainly ensure that he will, or else. Of course, he doesn't have the money; instead, he is given a choice. He can relinquish the robot Tobio in order to wipe out his debt - the child is a sophisticated and powerful robot, after all - or he can participate in a certain illicit event hosted by the Teiai Corporation.

It's nothing major...just a four-hour gambling cruise with a collection of desperate, damned souls that were also swept into debt with Teiai. The conditions are simple: Those who choose to participate are given a chance to clear their debts wholesale should they win. And should they lose...?

Well...no one really knows what happens to the losers seized by Teiai. It's said that they labour away their debts under Teiai's watchful eye and are freed once their work has covered their debts, though it's rumoured that most perish before they reclaim freedom.

There's only one answer Tenma can give, of course; he's not willing to lose Tobio again.

Thus is Tenma's debut into the Gambling Apocalypse, where he must become cutthroat in order to survive; if he wants to see his son again, he must make choices that will doom the hapless to miserable servitude, with a nonzero chance it ends in their death.

He survives the cruise, but of course, it was hardly enough to clear his debt; the cruise was never going to be the end of it. Teiai doesn't let go of its victims that easily. He will be called on again: this is a weight that hangs over him, all while he returns to his son Tobio. The same hands that have pushed innocents into hell must now be the hands that can embrace his child.

He wants to protect Tobio from the truth and enjoy what peaceful moments he's allowed with his son, but it's difficult. It's difficult to be the parent of a child who cannot understand the danger that looms ahead; this "happy" home is not to last. Tenma angers quickly and easily. He turns that anger onto Tobio.

As Teiai's games become more and more vicious and unrelenting, as his conscience holds onto the last vestiges of thread that remain, Tenma even threatens, once, to give the boy in: it would all end, then; the debt would be clear and no longer would he have to endure Tobio's childish annoyances, his ungratefulness.

The next time that Tenma is beckoned, Tobio takes matters into his own hands. He does understand, now; and he would have, if only Tenma had bothered to explain sooner. If it's a debt that needs clearing, he will work. He will help his father clear his debts however he can. Of course, it's difficult to find work as a child; but a circus troupe finds amusement in the idea of a child robot, and takes him in. He is whisked into a certainly unpleasant working situation, but he remembers his father, and what he must be enduring. Tobio, also, will endure.

When Tenma returns, Tobio is gone.

All that held Tenma back from becoming something monstrous has disappeared. All that kept him going has disappeared. When he is called upon by Teiai, there is no knowing what sort of person might come out the other end; whether a monster clawing his way to freedom regardless of what actions he must take, or a desolate husk surrendering defeat.

There is still a light, however dim: Found by Professor Ochanomizu and rescued from the circus, Tobio - now Atom - is able to shed light on the situation which Tenma took great pains to keep hidden from his old friend. With time running out, Ochanomizu and Atom must do what they can to save Tenma - from Teiai, and from himself.

-----

UHHH and that's a wrap!!!! I couldn't quite decide which way Tenma would go after hitting Rock Bottom in this AU, and tbh it would really depend on the kind of mental state he's in at the time. On the one hand I like the narrative of Ochanomizu and Tobio racing to prevent Tenma from crossing a line (actual outright murder probably) - or having to pull him back into humanity (and yknow, his ensuing penance)

But on the other hand having him get sent to Teiai Evil Hell Prison would be interesting because a) there's a lot of narrative potential having Tenma faced with what Teiai is doing with the people that lose the games and b) need him to decimate the foreman at chinchirorin Kaiji style

Tenma's whole character is definitely a much different guy in this AU, he starts off pretty sympathetic, the guy you wanna root for, he just ends up having an inverse character arc where he gets worse instead of better. His conflict with "Tobio" is also kind of reversed, less about being unsatisfied with Tobio as a son and more not being able to handle the fact that he probably has intense PTSD now and isnt capable of coping with it in a way conducive to being a parent (or like, coping at all)

Anyway that's gambling apocalypse tenma!!!

#umataro tenma #long post #well that became a novel. sorry lmao #in my mind teiai's evil hell prison in astro boy verse would probably be quite a bit different than regular kaiji #like. fuckin. weapons manufacturing for teiai or something like that. or scary bad danger robots. horrifying concept #Tenma would be a valuable asset to them whether by giving up Atom or by losing in death game hell and being forced to work for em #and if he dies? they can just take atom #get him out of there. #I'm also thinkin of who Teiai would be represented by.....the snakey loan sharks u could easily put skunk in there. #but who is an evil fucked up sadist billionaire. theres probably someone who could be fucked up enough I just dont know offhand #and im allergic to mischaracterizing in AUs lol im not gonna make a slightly bad guy into an evil freakguy. so. Hyoudou is just himself. #if you squint this could be considered an 80s astro boy AU..has a cruise arc & not actually giving atom away #but man. that tenma LEAST of all deserves this fate lmao #do I want to write fic of this? yes. will I? not likely! #I can just smell it dude this would be some crazy fuckoff 100k shit I am not ready brother #also it would just be soooooo so so so so so edgy. I dont really enjoy writing intensely grim stuff w/ little to no respite #also tbh. I am too stupid. LOL. I cannot write clever gambles alas

[hood-ex]

"Hey, Brother, There's an Endless Road to Rediscover" by TheSilencer has a scene like that. It's not quite the same as the one in the comics, and Jason is not back in time but I think it's similar enough ? (It's in chapter 5)

Omg I'm scared to start reading this story alskdja. Summary and tags? Very interesting. The fact that it hasn't been updated since December? Ahhhhh. Tis the curse of the incomplete fics.

#no but see 29 chapters with only 70k word count hm.... #what's funny is if i see an incomplete fic but see that it has a 150k+ word count then in my mind that's usually worth it #bc i usually grow tired of stories by that point #and i feel like i've gotten enough of a fill from them that i can walk away without a final conclusion #but 70k with no final conclusion... hmmmmm...... #tis a gamble #although i supposeee a 3 month break isn't hopeless #anon

[discotenny]

Just scrapped an idea cuz I thought it’d be too mean got Dice and I don’t wanna do that to my baby :((

Ramblings about it in tags if yer interested

#idea was he and you have a child but he still hasn’t overcome his gambling addiction and is responsible for a lot of monetary troubles you #guys deal with #I’m ngl the only line I wrote was “”where are you going daddy and I just could not continue #part of it came from the fact that dice’s dislikes in his chara profile is ‘a stable life’ and that killed me #but I realized that the interpretation of it id be using for the fic doesn’t align with what I actually think #cause I think he dislikes stability because he doesn’t want it to be taken away from him #gambling addiction viewpoint would have been he dislikes stability because it’s the exact opposite of the risky behavior he thrives on #maybe both could b true though #but idk I couldn’t see the vision for the idea past a first few paragraphs sorry guys #iotext #ramblings ramblings ramblings

[padfootastic]

Remus is definitely the most woobified, sugar-coated marauder in fanon. He was so interesting in canon when he was portrayed as a character who was on the good side but with typical villain traits: charismatic manipulator, selfish, gaslighter, etc. His motivations were understandable too. What are your thoughts on him? How do you feel about him in fanon vs canon?

hello 💜 i absolutely agree with you! re remus: i have one super rambly answer here which i still fully stand by. also some more thoughts under a cut so remus fans can skip this one lol

honestly, fanon remus makes me so annoyed i don’t think i can even properly articulate it lol. it’s gotten so bad that people will completely forget how the man acted in the books and then have go and say ‘oh it was completely out of character for him to do x’ when like,,,,no? (i mean, if u don’t care about canon then great, just say that and we’re gucci) like i’ve literally seen people argue him trying to run out on his wife and unborn kid was ooc as if we didn’t get multiple examples of his cowardice (self admitted) and avoidance tactics. like, he was not a saint and he definitely was not a morally upstanding person. he often comes off so much more favourably compared to sirius and james when the man wasn’t any better. all his faults are whitewashed into ‘he was scared of losing the only friends he had’ which is such a shit excuse (even more than the ‘poor werewolf’ one). i once saw someone saying ‘how do you think remus would’ve reacted to harry’s illegal tournament entry’ as an aside to ‘how would sirius have reacted as a free man’ and i remember being completely baffled because…we know how he reacted? which is that he didn’t. the man didn’t even bother to send a letter to harry, didn’t show up before the task when everyone else’s families did, didn’t help him with any of the crises, wasn’t there post graveyard. like, there’s a theme here. remus has no interest in cultivating a relationship with harry (or if he does, he has a very shitty way of showing it). honestly, he’s kind of terrible at relationships in general imo.

i’ve mentioned this before, i think, but also the double standards with which he’s treated coupled with the complete lack of accountability is so frustrating. like, remus can mess up more than anyone else but it’ll never stick. for eg, you’ll have so many people saying sirius treated harry like a second coming of james (and i do blame the movies for that one) but remus’ repeated usage of james as a way to manipulate harry is completely ignored. like that scene in poa is actually cruel. sirius’ forced absence from harry’s life is thrown in his face, but remus is never once questioned. (it’s why him being called a second godfather is a pet peeve of mine tbh). he wasn’t a known werewolf until poa, what the fuck was he doing until then? that’s the thing right, there’s so many gaps in his storyline that u can fill it any way u want. fans will do it favourably, while people like me who don’t like him won’t.

there’s also the whole sirius aspect of it, for me. as far as fictional characters go, i think remus is terrible for sirius. like most people think the exact opposite, yeah? remus is out of sirius’ league, there’s a power dynamic that’s skewed in sirius’ favor, remus’ low self esteem, trust issues blah blah. but i genuinely believe it’ll be sirius who comes off worse in a r/s relationship. so ykno, that just adds to my bias lol.

editing to add: guess it’s the hallmark of a successful manipulative character, though, that he flies under the radar the way he does eh? like that’s the sign of success right there, that he can pull all the shit in the world without it sticking to him so good on him lol

#remus lupin critical #like that man literally tells a 13yo harry that he’s gambling his parents sacrifice away. fuck man. that’s heartless #and it’s not like he did anything to make harry understand why he must be careful. didn’t have one meaningful convo with him did he? #but feels the need to pass judgements like these #i’m sorry if u were expecting a more neutral/balanced answer lol #my dislike for him has exponentially increased in the past few months #i can accept he’s an interesting character bc of how utterly grey he is. but that doesn’t mean i rly like him lol #i think i could’ve? if the remus fandom wasn’t the way it was #clearly they like the fanon version of him better but i just can’t get behind it tbh #it’s just annoying how he’s constantly treated with baby gloves s’all #also!! the fanon view makes it so that the ooc tag is *never* used #so even if u want to escape it u can’t #like i’m sure someone would be like ‘well pen if u don’t like remus just stop reading & bitching?’ #but that’s not possible when he’s *everywhere* and u can’t even filter it out lol #and i’m constantly living in the hope that it won’t be that way in a fic #which does happen ngl. just very rarely #pen’s asks

[valleydoli]

𐙚 Ao3 Fics I’ve read and love 𐙚

𐙚 infidelity by @tawus (completed)

gojo x fem reader

Your marriage to Gojo Satoru lost its initial excitement, since your husband spent all his time either at Jujutsu Tech or on exorcism missions across the world. To ease your loneliness, you picked up your favorite pastime from your student years — clubbing — behind his back. Too bad that on Satoru’s most recent mission he spots his wife dancing in a nightclub with a bunch of guys in the skimpiest dress he has ever seen on her…

𐙚 desert rose by @sadistic-kiss (on going)

all jjk men x fem reader 😭

Toji Fushiguro finds you during one of his hitman jobs. With no idea what to do with you he decides to bring you home to his house of misfits. They weren’t picture perfect but neither were you.

𐙚 mascara by @/softstellars (on going)

geto x fem reader

You've never been a particularly good person, you're self-aware enough to know it. It's your only flaw, and recently you've actually been working to better yourself. For example: paying for a 30-dollar Uber so you can take your friend home only for her to ditch you for some guy when it comes down to it. Although you’re pissed, you decide to try and make the best of it instead of get into a screaming match with her. It's an easy thing to do when Getou Suguru is offering you everything to do just that. Everything a party entails: liquor, weed, and sex with a perfect stranger. And Getou knows perfectly well you have a boyfriend, so it's not like he'll want anything serious.

𐙚 a pearl by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

The Fushiguros needed a nanny, and the pay was too good to not apply, especially since your family needed financial help. You were the perfect nanny for the kids, they loved you as if you were their own mother. Slowly, you built up the perfect relationship with the family. Especially with Mr. Fushiguro. A man who would constantly visit you after dark. A man who you thought had sincere intentions but at the end of the day didn't care about you. A selfish man who just saw you as a tool to make his wife mad. A man who didn't care about you but didn't want you with anyone else. A man that took away your ability to know what a healthy relationship was. You couldn't speak up about it since all the fault would fall at your feet and would be deemed as the "homewrecker".

𐙚 you, my angel and my saint by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

sequel to a pearl!

After having an affair with your boss, you're left to deal with the consequences, those being: two exhausting new jobs and a child. A child that he never got to know the existence of. Now all you had to do was keep her hidden, which should be an easy task, right?

𐙚 rings by @/bungeemum (on going)

toji x fem reader

you divorced the man in front of you for a reason. so why was he standing on your doorstep, guilt plastered on his face, and eyes glinting with hope?

𐙚 a dangerous game by @/anaoyuo (completed)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

Both men agreed to a game about who fucks you first, but they didn't play their cards right. Gojo and Geto changed the course of the game when they decided to keep you around for way longer than intended, making you fall for their sweet way to deprave you, and now you have to face the consequences in a gamble that they call their life.

𐙚 fate’s gamble by @/anaoyuo (on going)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

sequel to a dangerous game

缘分— a story about predestined affinity, set in a world where the intoxicating thrills of wealth intertwine with amorality.

𐙚 him & i by @pharixden (on going)

gojo x fem reader

toji x fem reader

sukuna x fem reader

A cheating husband, a widowed bodyguard and a malevolent fling of the past who owes a favour isn’t a combination for the faint of heart, but not every girl is a damsel in distress.

𐙚 changes by @lemonlover1110 (on going also on tumblr!)

gojo x fem reader

From childhood friends to lovers to mere strangers. Your love story with Satoru Gojo was one from a fairy tail, until it wasn't. When you were twenty-one, Satoru left you without an explanation. Five years later, you meet again but nothing is quite the same. Too many things need to be explained, especially the fact that there's another Gojo that Satoru has yet to meet.

𐙚 the man in apartment 381 by @lemonlover1110 (completed also on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

Looking for a new beginning after the death of your husband, you move away from town. That's when you meet him, Toji Fushiguro, a widower with a three-year-old son. You two understand each other, which draws you close. Except you two don't realize that feelings would eventually develop, and neither of you want that. Feelings are the last thing you two want after finding out the great damage that they can cause. When you two discover this, it's too late.

𐙚 4th avenue viewing by @/softstellars (completed)

nanami x fem reader

Nanami Kento is intelligent, serious, reserved and can easily catch someone in a lie. It's his job to do just that, he's renowned for it. So when he comes to your university to offer up an internship, it's quite the opportunity. Anyone would jump at the chance, except for you. But no, you just had to be the one caught in a lie.

𐙚 forgotten souls by @/killerpoultry & @/bebobopobo (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

You and Sukuna have been married for years. Even though he is brash, mean, and sadistic, you love him more than anything. While he may not show it much, he truly loves you too. One day you get into a terrible car accident and lose all your memories. You learn to live once more while Sukuna must now get you to fall in love with him all over again.

𐙚 love kills by @/sourome (on going)

i actually don’t know 😭 i think toji x fem reader

The wealthy and successful Zenin family, well respected and seemingly perfect. But all that glitters is not gold. Toji Zenin, CEO and face of the Zenin Group acts like a gentleman but is a vile creature that has ruined many lives, such as yours. That married man dared to play with your mother’s heart many years ago, destroying her sanity and her life and ultimately killing her. Now years later and being all grown up you decide to seek revenge, he deserves to suffer that same destiny and die of love. With the help of a few friends you plan to become a part of his life and his every thought but you didn't take into account his son, that man had the potential to turn your plans upside down.

𐙚 the black swan by @uselesslydamaged (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

Loving someone is easy, but experiencing it is harder.

𐙚 bodyguard by @/succybuss (on going)

toji x fem reader

Your Grandfather, a man involved in unsavory businesses that has taken you under his wing, has informed you that you will be under the care of a full-time Bodyguard. Unhappy with your grandfather's decision, you decide to go out for a night of drinking for your last night of freedom. There, you encounter a man you planned on taking home, but life had other plans in store for you...

𐙚 violet lights by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

In which you're at a party that you should've skipped when you capture the attention of a boy who looks like an angel and grins like the devil. He looks beautiful in the neon lights, and maybe you just want to make your ex-boyfriend jealous, but trouble with a tongue ring does sound like fun, just for tonight. What's the worst that could happen, you know?

𐙚 starboy by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

sequel to violet lights

After your ex-boyfriend gets arrested on national television, you find yourself realizing that you really didn’t know much at all about Gojo Satoru. Well, he’s better known in the Yakuza as The Six Eyes, not that he ever told you that.

𐙚 sweet little lies by @/mooglepaws (on going)

toji x fem reader

Megumi Fushiguro is the perfect Fiancé. Caring, loyal, successful, devastatingly handsome and crazy in love with you. So how and why do you end up fucking his Dad? As your wedding looms and the consequences of your affair unfold, you have to make a choice between the Fushiguro men.

This is a Toji x Reader x Megumi but the smut is almost exclusively Toji x Reader focusing on their affair.

𐙚 the twist of a knife by @darkcat23 (on going)

gojo x fem reader

This world is dull, colourless in your eyes. You are just trying to keep going with your life, not bothering anyone, trying to support your mother and yourself. So what happens when you agree to help your ex one night? And what if you catch the attention of a certain white haired assassin? And he shows you just how colourful this world truly is. or, a story of a girl with a violent mind and a boy with violent tendencies, finding each other, intertwining, and feeding off one another. perhaps it is fate that has brought them together. or perhaps it's something more sinister, something more cold.

𐙚 untameable waves by @/circedemedici

(unknown i guess hopefully i can let you know)

has been taken down i dont know if it’ll come back but if it does i’ll link it! but i’m leaving it here because it was most definitely my favourite :(

please let me know any other fics you’ve read because i love reading fics with a LOT of plot and also let me know if you end up reading any and you enjoy them as much as i did! :3

i think i used every tag known to man LOL 𐙚

#modern sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #dilf toji #toji zenin #satoru gojo smut #satoru smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jjk sukuna #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk x black reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami x you

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort

word count: 4.9k

summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.

warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)

a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it

a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕

Joel was never that into gambling. 

Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy. 

He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it. 

Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way. 

However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up. 

One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs. 

Liam folds. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants. 

“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat. 

Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.” 

“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.” 

Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak. 

“You still have that pretty girlfriend?” 

Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.” 

“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins. 

“Fuck you, Miller.” 

“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.” 

Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes. 

“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.” 

“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.” 

You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.” 

That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?

“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.” 

“You should’ve thought of that before.” 

“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.” 

“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?” 

“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.” 

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.” 

You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.

“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.” 

“You can’t leave, where would you go?” 

The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world. 

And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes. 

You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing. 

Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color. 

Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded. 

The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate. 

You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart. 

You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything. 

And it seemed like you were no exception. 

Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners. 

You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear. 

“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.” 

Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there. 

And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam. 

It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much. 

And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self. 

The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another. 

You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel. 

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down. 

“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.” 

After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you. 

“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.” 

He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?” 

“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.” 

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow. 

Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.” 

“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.” 

Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue. 

He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?” 

“God, yes.” 

You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard. 

Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.

He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most. 

Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh. 

“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.” 

Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion. 

Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed. 

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?” 

It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.” 

The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage. 

“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue. 

Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight. 

After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin. 

“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.” 

He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?” 

“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.” 

You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely.  “Don’t make me say it again.” 

You sink to your knees immediately after that. 

He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek. 

You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks. 

“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.” 

You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.” 

“Get on with it then.” 

Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock. 

“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth. 

“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”

Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.  

“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.” 

As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—” 

His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses. 

“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.” 

Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts. 

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.” 

“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.” 

“Is this pussy mine?” 

“Yes, it’s fucking yours.” 

Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning. 

He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?” 

“Yours! It’s fucking yours!” 

Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking. 

You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger. 

“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?” 

“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust. 

“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words. 

His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously. 

“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?” 

“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.” 

His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.” 

Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him. 

With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.” 

“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.” 

Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!” 

You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you. 

“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!” 

“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself. 

“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.” 

You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful. 

You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone. 

“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—” 

Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out. 

If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips. 

“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls. 

“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.” 

“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss. 

Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss. 

“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?” 

“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you. 

Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm. 

Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides. 

Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together. 

“I think he left, sweetheart.” 

“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.” 

Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore. 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[peachsayshi]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ blessings ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

↬ summary: nanami kento tries to be the perfect husband and father but when a tough night fighting curses ends badly it results in nanami snapping at his daughter. 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬･tags: nanami x female reader; hurt/comfort; nanami has a daughter; domestic drama; being a jujutsu sorcerer is hard; momotarō is a famous Japanese folk tale :c ↬･ wc: 3,383

↬ notes: hi, everyone! I'm currently not really active at the moment so please don't feel disheartened if I haven't been responding to your messages or tagged posts. I'm taking a small break and only coming online for a bit to catch up on some messages, read fics or queue posts. I'll be back to properly posting and interacting soon but in the meantime I wanted to share that I finished up this draft over the weekend. I was actually debating if I should post this but then just decided to go for it! sending all my love xx

nanami’s head is heavy, completely clouded with despair, and it tints his brown eyes a shade of murky gray. the walls of his beautiful home feel narrow, almost claustrophobic, which explains why he’s struggling to catch his breath right now. stepping into the hallway, he instinctively peeks into the dining area to find you and his daughter eating dinner together. she’s sitting on the chair, her legs far too short to even touch the ground, holding a half eaten onigiri between her small hands. you are by her side, sneakily tidying up after her as you brush away the stray beads of rice trickling onto the table. 

a little glow blooms in nanami’s heart at the sight of you both but there is a vicious creature residing in the pit of his stomach that veils the bright light away. 

he quietly takes off his jacket, his bruised fingers loosening the tie around his neck. he clears his throat before announcing with exhaustion to you both that he’s finally home. 

your eyes meet his, the muscles on your face falling immediately. he can practically feel the blood rushing through your veins as worry washes over you. the reaction makes his chest uncomfortably tight, but he knows that he can’t hide his expressions around you like he used to. 

you both move together so fluidly now, like a single body of water that ebbs and flows to its own natural current. 

he escaped the night’s fight with a few cuts and a couple of bad bruises, but there is currently a student on shoko’s table who barely made it through. the young man arrived at jujutsu tech only a couple of weeks ago, but his naive and charismatic qualities turned into fatal flaws in the world of sorcery.

he bit off more than he could chew by trying to take on a special grade curse.  

shoko promised nanami that she would heal the boy, but admitted there was only so much she can do in regards to the aftermath of his injuries. the sorcerer couldn’t bare to leave him behind, but gojo refused that he stay and insisted that he return back home to his pretty wife and adorable daughter immediately. 

“I’ll handle things from here,” is what his superior said, while nanami’s guilt climbed up his throat. 

that student was his responsibility... 

...and he failed him entirely. 

“papa’s home!” his daughter chirps. the pitch of her voice ringing in nanami’s ears to pull him back to the present and far away from the scene where life and death were dancing together in a tango.  “papa, look, look...mama and I made onigiri!” 

her feet bounces up and down, and there’s a touch of a pink against her cheeks when her mouth stretches into a beaming grin. the innocence in her eyes makes nanami falter and he can feel himself falling deeper into the abyss. for a minute he resents himself for selfishly bringing such a beautiful thing into this world, only to gamble with the fact that she may potentially be in his shoes one day. 

he begs for that outcome to never happen, beseeches whatever higher power above him that exists to spare her from this life. she should never have to go through this, never have to experience these heartbreaks that only wither a person down. 

“I can see that,” nanami replies in a low voice before shifting his attention to his feet. 

right now, he can’t stomach an ounce of her purity, and it radiates around her like a halo. she's so unbothered by his presence, so completely unaware of the sudden change in the atmosphere around her... 

“we made tuna, salmon, and veggies...” she babbles on. 

“how nice...” nanami curtly interrupts, before anxiously running his fingers through the strands of his messy blonde hair. 

“which one do you want, papa?” she questions eagerly, pointing her sticky hands at the plate to show off the selection of triangles. 

“sweets,” you interject just as nanami turns on his heel to walk in the other direction, “how about we finish up eating our dinner, and we can save some for your daddy tomorrow...”

“nooo!” she whines far too loudly, which forces nanami to stop dead in his tracks. he glances over his shoulder to see her puffing out her bottom lip with disappointment, “you said...you said we make it so we eat together!” 

she’s only six. 

she can’t perceive that her father is struggling to hold himself together. deep down inside nanami knows that, but it isn’t enough to keep his cool. he doesn’t know why his daughter’s insistence causes him to pinch the front of his brows with annoyance or why he shoots a frustrated look in her direction. 

he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly picturing shoko calling the student’s parents to deliver the news that the man who was supposed to protect their child was unsuccessful in his duty. 

he doesn’t know why he feels at fault for everything that happened, even though the circumstances of the events were completely out of his control.  

he doesn’t know why he’s imagining himself on the receiving end of a very similar call, or why he can’t stop picturing his precious daughter on that table instead…

all of this pummels into him, and the monster emerges out from it’s cave.  

“be quiet and stop making such a fuss.” 

his voice comes out sharper than expected, and the expulsion of his frustration allows him to see the crystal clear picture before him. 

the room is dead silent. 

your face is in full shock at the hissing tone of your sweet husband snapping at his darling baby girl who he only ever speaks to with a gentle voice. 

what truly unravels nanami is the look that his daughter is giving him - her angelic features are sullen, but her eyes remain wide with surprise. her bottom lip is slack, and the only sound he can hear is her uneasy breathing. her eyes, the most beautiful gems in existence, twinkle as tears begin to form and she tries to quickly blink them away before turning her attention back to her plate.  

nanami doesn’t know he managed to stop time itself but the three of you remain frozen in place. 

he regrets his words immediately. 

he wants nothing more than to pull his precious girl close into his chest and smother her with apologies. the part of him with sense tells him to follow through and make things right with her, but instead he begrudgingly continues to wallow in his own self pity as he walks over to his room. 

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

the house is unusually quiet now, the music of domestic joy morphing into hushed murmurs and whispers outside your room door. you settle your crestfallen daughter into her bedroom before moving to check on your husband next. 

fresh out of the shower, nanami is seated on the edge of the bed with his exhausted eyes pressed firmly into the palms of his hands. he exhales a heavy breath, his dirty work clothes still piled just outside the bathroom, and your heart nearly collapses seeing him in such a state of disarray.

you kneel before him, two hands sliding across the soft material of his sweats as you brush them along his thighs before carefully bringing them up to circle around his wrists. 

“kento?” 

he allows you to pull his palms away but your throat constricts when a band forms tightly around your neck. you swallow the lump with an upturn of your brows as you are greeted with red, exhausted eyes. you cup that handsome face in your hands, your thumbs sweetly motioning back and forth across his cheeks as you try to soothe the tension away. 

after all this time together, it hurts you to see that he still tries to hide his tears. nanami constantly holds himself to the highest standard, always ensuring that he can solidify himself as the rock for you and your daughter to depend on through thick and thin. it’s so rare for you to see him crack, to watch him crumble under the overbearing weight of the things that he is burdened to carry. 

“you had a rough night,” you point out in a low, sympathetic voice and he simply just nods his head in acknowledgement. 

his eyes flutter close again when you lean forward to press a tender, reassuring kiss on his brow. “you want a talk about it?” 

the way his voice shakes makes you shiver, but you tentatively listen as he relays the events of the night before finally concluding that satoru called him only a few minutes ago to reassure him that the student in question is alright. 

“he lost an eye, but at least he’s alive...” he concludes somberly, the warble in his final statement prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck as you pull him in for a protective hug. 

nanami receives it with gratitude, strong arms circling around your waist as he buries his nose into the crook of your shoulder and breathes in.

your scent is a reminder of his permanent sanctuary.

a safety, a reassurance of home.

you stroke his blonde locks between your fingers until he exhales, "i'm so sorry," he breathes, "I...I didn't mean to snap like that..."

a tiny smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you unravel yourself to cup his jaw into your palms once again. "I appreciate the apology, but I don't think I should be on the receiving end of it..." you hint sweetly.

nanami closes his eyes guiltily. "I'm a horrible father."

you click your tongue with disappointment, your face falling as your disapproval pinches between the space of your brows.

"you're just human," you remind him defensively, "you're a wonderful father, the best man that our daughter can look up to"

"did you see the look on her face?" he replies, his voice unnaturally small. the tender expression he gives you is filled with regret, and it's enough to make your heart ache all over again.

"kento," you contend, "don't do this to yourself. we're both going to have days where we mess up, but that doesn't mean that the problem can't be fixed."

you thread his hair between your fingers, like your brushing through rays sunlight. "she's waiting for me to read her a bedtime story," you explain, "but I'm sure she would rather be with you instead..."

"I doubt that," your husband replies as he reaches for your hand to kiss the inside of your palm.

"we will always love you, kento," you answer back, "unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"

he didn't even know how desperately he needed to hear that, for your certainty to remedy away all his sorrows, until they actually left your lips.

your husband's throat tightens, tears pricking his eyes once more but he hides them away when he leans in to seek out a kiss from the woman whose heart he deeply adores.

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

nanami leans his shoulder against the frame of his daughter's room. his heart patters lightly, making him realize that he might actually be nervous. it's strange, he thinks, that he would feel hesitant to approach his own child considering that he was her guardian but nanami had never allowed his professional life to fracture into his personal one like this before.

she's seated on the floor next to a pile of books and her stuffed rabbit secured tightly underneath her arm. there's a warmth in his chest when when he makes note of the soft toy, because he purchased that himself the day she was born and the pair have been inseparable ever since.

he clears his throat, bringing his scuffed knuckles to gently knock on the door.

"my love?" he calls out to her.

his daughter perks up, her breathing changing slightly as it rises and falls with a hint of apprehension. she glances over her shoulder to see him.

"where's mama?" she asks, her question shattering the man into a million pieces at her subtle dismissal.

"taking a shower," he answers cooly, "but I'm here to get you ready for bed..."

her lovely eyes refuse to lock into his own, and she simply tucks her lip between her bottom teeth to avoid giving nanami a reply.

she looks so much like him when he was a child. he remembered when his parents used to scold him too, and how he would also hide away in his room. the only difference is that nanami's parents were far more traditional - a time where elders were never submissive to young hearts.

"may I come in?" he requests politely, ensuring that his daughter knew she had a choice if she wanted to speak to him.

her nostrils flare slightly while she considers him, but to his relief she nods her head eagerly.

nanami steps into her room, always feeling largely out of place amongst her things. "did you find a story for bed?" he asks.

she again quietly nods her head and picks up her favorite book; a compilation of japanese folktales with beautiful illustrations. you both have been reading one for her each night ever since she got it it as a present from her grandparents.

he crouches on his knees to meet her at eye level. "you've really been enjoying this one, haven't you?" he carries on, hoping to coax more words out of her.

“yeah,” she replies in the same mousy voice of uncertainty. she shifts her attention away when she stands on her feet, clutching onto the stuffed bunny tightly while her other hand swings the book by her side.

“and what tale are we reading tonight?”

she shrugs her shoulders with indifference, a hint of pink blushing her cheek. “I dunno. I…I can just until mama is ready…”

nanami visibly slumps. her rejection an entirely new painful experience that he's never endured before. he scratches the back of his head anxiously, finding himself at a loss for words. the seconds pass, an awkward bubble surrounding both father and daughter. it’s only broken when nanami exhales a sigh, and reaches his hands towards her waist to draw her into his frame.

“darling,” he addresses tenderly, “can you look at me?”

“no, you were mean…” she blurts out, her bottom lip trembling slightly.

nanami’s heart sinks.

that’s the first time he’s ever heard those words from her lips.

“I know,” he murmurs shamefully.

her mouth forms into a tiny button of a pout but she meets his eyes for the first time as he acknowledges his behavior.

nanami arches forward to kiss her forehead, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, sweetheart. I’m so sorry if I upset or scared you”

she fidgets with the book in her hand. “did you not want onigiri?” she asks, her innocence tugging the corners of her father’s lips into a small grin.

“it wasn’t the onigiri, my love,” he reassures, “daddy just…had a bad day at work…”

“why was it bad?”

nanami sighs once again.

she still doesn’t know that he’s a sorcerer. you’ve both reduced his position to her by simply explaining that nanami “helps and protects people".

thankfully your daughter doesn’t pry too hard to ask any further questions.

“someone I know got hurt. so, daddy was a little shaken up when he came home…”

"shaken up?"

"scared, my love"

his daughter shakes her head in disbelief, “nu-uh, you never get scared, papa” she rebuts.

nanami huffs out a laugh, flashing her a full grin now as he brings his fingers to his chin to to ponder her sweet statement. he quirks his brow and cheekily replies, "we can't all be brave like you," in an attempt to lighten the mood.

his daughter narrows her eyes towards his hand, her mind instantly distracted with other things already. "you got hurt too papa!" she gasps, dropping the bunny by her side to point at his knuckles.

nanami glances at his fingers covered in red marks.

"wait!" she exclaims as she places the book by his side. "I have something!"

she spins on her heel and rushes towards one of her drawers. meanwhile, nanami just takes her in with his love soaked eyes, watching as she rummages through her stuff with determination until she scurries back his way.

"got it!" she squeaks with a smile, and to his surprise she jumps right into his arms with such nonchalance it nearly make him crumble on the spot.

your voice echoes in the back of his mind: "we will always love you, kento. unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"

"mama bought it for me," she explains, regaining her father's attention once more.

nanami rests his cheek on her shoulder, and inhales her powdery scent as he keeps one arm warmly secured around her waist. he watches her peel off the plaster of the band aid, lbefore grabbing his hand and placing it unevenly over his knuckles.

"now a kiss!" she adds, as she brings his hand to her mouth and exaggerates a loud "mwah" sound for emphasis. "mama says the kiss is what makes it all better"

nanami instantly feels significantly better from this remedy of love. he extends his digits out, and looks at the hot pink "hello kitty" band aid that now rests comfortably on his knuckles.

"thank you, my darling," he coos and peppers her cheek with a few kisses before turning her to face him once again. "you made me feel a lot better"

she flashes him an equally large smile in return, showing off her missing teeth.

"I did?"

nanami chuckles as he scoops her up in his arms to give her a well deserved bear hug. she laughs as he stands on his two feet, and sheds away any lingering thoughts of apprehension that may have stuck.

"you always do," he reassures, his soul vibrating back to life when he feels her return his embrace. “you think you can forgive me for how I spoke earlier?”

“yeah,” she confirms and squeezes him just a little tighter. "I love you lots, papa"

"oh, my angel," he hums, "you have no idea just how much I love you too..."

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

after winding down from your evening pampering session, you decide to pass by your daughter's room to check on your little family. you peer through the cracked door to find nanami spread out on your daughter’s bed, with your daughter curled into side and her head resting on his chest.

“did I come from a peach too like momotarō?” you hear her ask, but your heart flutters at the sight of your husband’s pearly whites.

you’ll never get over how much you love seeing him smile with such genuine emotion.

“no,” you hear nanami reply calmly, his finger lightly holding the page open. “you remember your mother explaining how you used to live in her stomach first?”

“oh yeah,” your daughter replies with a hint of disappointment over the fact that she was not birthed from a piece of fruit as mentioned in one of her favorite folk tales.

“shall I carry on?”

“uh-huh,” she answers and she readjusts her position to get even more comfortable. "I think if we look hard enough we might find momotarō..."

"you think so?" your husband wonders with honest curiosity.

"I know so, papa!"

"how many peaches do you think we need to check?"

"hmmm," she mumbles, "maybe a million?"

"a million?" your husband dramatically replies, "that's a lot of peaches don't you think,"

"I mean, it's less than a billion..." she responds quite matter of factly.

you catch his gaze from between the door that’s ajar. his expression fully relaxes, and you smile knowingly in his direction at the sight of father and daughter making up.

“papa?” his daughter questions upon his sudden silence, but your husband keeps his focus on you as he hums in acknowledgement before replying, "you're not wrong, but it'll still be quite a challenge to cut through a million peaches..."

"we might need some help," your daughter adds on.

you blow him a secret kiss as to not interrupt further, and quietly close the door before heading back to your bedroom.

#[peach is away.💌] #[peach queues.🧡] #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x female reader #nanami x ofc #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento angst #nanami angst #nanami hurt/comfort #jujutsu kaisen angst #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen fan fiction #jjk fluff

[yzashaven]

𝐁𝐄𝐓 !

꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ billionaire!scaramouche x reader

꒰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ꒱ nsfw content. reader gambling in a casino. rough sex. creampie. squirting. literally not proofread at all </3

꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ꒱ betting dollars upon dollars with a billionaire. surely a good idea! ...right?

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄— i'm gonna need you all to forgive me for being away for a whole month and coming back with a half-assed fic </3 it's been really tiring but i'm doing okay! (for now)... i really do hope that you all enjoy this even though my writing is honestly a bit rusty now that i haven't written a single sentence in the month's long "break" i took. i love you all, thank you so so much for 1.5k !! 🤍 + thoughts on this new layout? :3

he was just another run-of-the-mill billionaire hanging out at casinos, local and private, for the ordinary people and the rich. you just so happen to be a regular at a specific casino and bar called the 'devil's temptation'. you spend a few hours of your day there every week or so, taking home stacks of your winnings home each time you go.

you were quite well known by the other regulars as a money magnet of sorts due to your high win rate whichever game you play, especially poker. your night was going on normally as per usual, well, until a man approached you.

"care for a game or two, pretty lady?"

☆★

"royal flush." yet another easy win on your part. you smiled at the man softly as you layed down your hand. he simply chuckles and looks at you lustfully, "huh, well played, indeed. though, why don't you say we make a... different type of bet this time?" he's being quite vague, you raise an eyebrow at him, "do you mind elaborating?"

a smirk from him as a reply, "accompany me to my mansion for the night, then you'll see." hesitant yet curious, you agreed. but how in hell would you have thought the said bet would end up with you getting fucked by the man named scaramouche?

★☆

"fuck...!" a loud whimper rips through your throat at the way he thrusted in and out of your sensitive cunt, you tried your hardest not to cum. after all, that was your deal, if he came first, he'd give up over a million dollars to you in the form of a cheque. but if you were to cum first, you'd be his, body, heart, and soul.

your upper body had already surrendered to him as your face was buried in a pillow, your torso flat on the fine silk sheets of his bed. your elbows failed in keeping you held up as he fucked you relentlessly—hard, deep, and fast.

"c'me on, don't you wanna cum around my cock, baby?" he insists and brings his hand over to grope at one of your breasts, squeezing at its' softness and using his fingers to tease your nipples. you nod, to answer his question. but of course you didn't, you wanted to win the bet. who would refuse a large amount of money?

...but maybe you'll have another chance at such an offer.

your body couldn't take any more. you bit the soft pillow in front of you to muffle out the lewd moan you mewled out as your body shivered intensely at the euphoric feeling that hit you hard like a truck.

a dark chuckle from behind, "guess you're mine now, yeah?" he whispers before pulling out all the way, only to slam back inside to earn yet another symphony of moans straight from your drooling lips. his own mouth latches onto your neck to kiss, lick, and even bite at the flesh, leaving marks all over from the area of your neck to your shoulder.

his hand trails further down to pinch at your clit, causing you to scream out his name in extreme ecstasy, squirting as you completely dampen the sheets—all the while he began to shoot ropes and ropes of his cum deep inside of your pussy, reaching your womb.

not even a minute to calm down from your highs, he was already repositioning the two of you. firm grips from his hands laying you on your back and manhandling you right where he wanted you to be. a delicious mating press. it didn't take long for him to slide back into your warmth.

#♡.･ signed by yza ✰°｡⋆ #♡.･ dearest kuni ✰°｡⋆ #♡.･ late night thoughts ✰°｡⋆ #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #genshin smut #genshin x reader #fem!reader

[reidmotif]

Always Bet on Black

Summary: Reader realizes she has an advantage at the Bureau's Casino Night, when Spencer can't seem to take his eyes off her and her dress.

Prompt: The BAU throws a casino night charity fundraiser. Spencer is a menace. Someone has to find a way to distract him.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: drinking, gambling (i have never gambled in my life nor have i played poker or blackjack. this will be super apparent in this fic. many apologies), nipple play, oral sex (f!receiving) hickies, Reader POV, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist

“And that’s another win to the gentleman on my right!”  The dealer announces for what feels like the millionth time that night. There's a shit-eating grin on Spencer Reid’s face as he leans over the blackjack table, wrapping his arms around the hearty stack of chips in an almost in an exaggerated manner, pulling it back towards him much to everyone’s dismay. 

My dismay, especially, because while- yes, this is for charity, and what Spencer’s doing could be characterized as noble in some roundabout way, it was getting a bit repetitive. Spencer was so focused, a thousand times more than anyone else at that table, his brain working a million miles a minute to provide him with the best course of action when it came to gambling.  

And so far? It worked perfectly. While everyone else was taking their chances and betting away, praying that the odds would line up in their favor, Spencer Reid did fucking math, and suddenly the odds were his bitch.  I was beginning to understand why every casino in Las Vegas had him banned now. If he was giving the BAU Casino Night a run for their money like this, I can’t imagine the Bellagio being too pleased with having him either. 

I sighed at the thought, and it seemed Spencer picked up on it, the corners of his lips turning upwards, trying to feign a chagrin expression as he stacked his chips on top of the other. 

“Something wrong, (Y/N)?” He says, looking at me. “Are you not enjoying yourself?” 

Spencer Reid is usually nice, humble, and sweet. In all honesty, I should not be feeling this hostile and sore at the fact that he’d managed to beat me almost every single time we’d played blackjack. My embarrassment was only heightened when I thought of how I’d (stupidly) bragged beforehand that I’d never lost a game in college. 

How quickly my streak was destroyed. 

My pride was bruised, and the man in front of me knew it. 

“I’m enjoying myself just fine.” I say, trying not to grit my teeth as I say the words. 

“You look a bit hot.” He says, referring to my face that had gotten slightly red after the most recent loss I’d taken. “Would you like me to get you a drink?” He asks, his gaze turning less cocky, and more sweet and polite. 

I melt a bit. “Okay. No need to be a sore loser.” I think to myself. “This is a sweet man, and he’s offering you a drink. Yes, he’s destroying you right now and knows it, but it’s not like he’s acting like a complete dick about it.”

I nod at his words, sending a small smile his way. 

“A drink would be great actually.” I finally respond, and he gets up, pushing his chair in. 

“I’ll be right back.” He says, turning away from me, and sauntering towards the bar.

 I take a second to admire him as he walks away, the suit and tie ensemble he picked out for the night complimenting him so well. I’d never say it out loud, considering we were coworkers, but something about seeing him so dapper, so much more.. mature brought out a warm feeling in my stomach, one that made me shift in my seat as I tried to rid myself of thoughts of grabbing him by his tie, placing a hand on his perfectly sculpted jawline, pulling him against me and- no! 

He. Is. Your. Colleague. Snap out of it! 

In lieu of my wandering thoughts, I’d realized I had actually heated up quite a few degrees and in an attempt to combat the sudden body heat, I shrugged off the shawl I’d been donning for most of the night. I felt the cool air hit my exposed shoulders and chest, and relaxed a bit, starting to feel my temperature lower. Right as I did so,  Spencer returned to his seat, holding two drinks. 

I turn towards him, still seated. He’s sitting in his seat, facing towards me as well, and I instinctively reach over to grab the drink in his hand, expecting him to meet me halfway and transfer the cup to me.  But instead of the expected interaction, he seems a bit dazed, an intense expression on his face as he bored his eyes into me, studying me almost. It’s an expression that causes me to raise my eyebrows at him. 

“Spencer?” I say. “Hello?” I wave my hand a bit, trying to break him from his trance. “The drinks?” I add, and that’s what seems to break him out of his preoccupied stupor. He blinks a bit before shaking his head.

“Sorry. Sorry. I spaced out there for a moment.” He says, hastily handing me my glass and turning away completely from me, taking a sip out of his. I can notice a small tremor in his hand as he sets down the liquid on the table, and I’m a bit concerned. He was just fine a moment ago. Did someone say something whilst he was at the bar? Did he choose to ponder some life-changing information as he took his seat at the table? Was he losing it for no reason at all? 

Regardless of what it was, I didn’t have the time to contemplate it further or question him about it because the dealer was beginning to shuffle the deck of cards again. 

As the next game started, there was something fundamentally different about Spencer. He looked  almost panicked, even going as far as to loosen his tie as he played. I thought I’d maybe imagined the changes, until finally, I got a real indicator that something was off. For the first time that whole night- he lost. 

My mouth was agape as the dealer announced the house win, and as I looked between him and the table, he didn’t seem all that fazed, simply shrugging as he attempted to get up. Before he could slip away, I grabbed his arm and brought him a bit closer to me, so that I could speak to him over the sounds of the bustling party around us.

“Spencer- wait. Is something wrong?” I ask, the genuine concern in my tone apparent to anyone who might’ve walked by. 

“Yeah, no. Um. Why wouldn’t it be?” He says, his eyes everywhere except me. It was almost comical. The ceiling tiles couldn’t be that interesting. 

I grip his arm a little harder, urging him to look at me, to talk to me. “You lost! That hasn’t happened all night! Was someone- did something happen? Are you feeling okay?” I ask, my eyes trying to meet his. 

He gulps, finally looking at me. “Statistically, card counting can’t actually work every time so I was bound to lose at some point right?” He says, a little shakily, and despite his words making logical sense, the notion that something was wrong didn’t leave me. 

“You promise?” I say, looking at him as intensely as I possibly could to ensure he wouldn’t try to evade giving me an honest answer. 

He gives his signature, flat smile, nodding. “I’ll be fine. Look. I’m gonna go play some other games. Maybe rack up my luck somewhere else.” 

I lick my lips and finally let go of his arm, nodding. “Have fun.” I say, and he gives me a little wave. 

“You too.” 

For the next hour or so, I found myself dabbling at the other assortment of games offered by the Bureau that night, until yet again, my path crossed with Spencer, who seemed to be on a pretty hefty winning streak- if the stack of chips he’d accumulated wasn’t a clear sign of that already. 

I stood by the table, slightly out of his view,  a little amazed by the way his eyes followed the deck and everyone’s movements so precisely. The level of focus required to do what he was was absolutely no joke, and I couldn’t help but admire in silent awe at the exactness of the whole process. It only made him that much more attractive in that moment, if that was even possible. 

“Royal flush.” He announces, fanning his cards as everyone at the table groans. It’s only then when his gaze meets mine, watching him, and I can observe the signs of a tell-tale blush creeping up his neck. Odd.

“(Y/N)! Hello.” He says, quickly. “Still liking the party?” 

“I am, thank you.” I say, my eyebrows slightly furrowing at how oddly he’s behaving. “Mind if I join the next round?” I ask, already starting to take my seat. 

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” He says, clearing his throat and turning his entire body away from me. Spencer and I usually got along just fine. There was nothing ever particularly sour about our relationship, and I’d like to think that in the time I’d spent at the Bureau, our shared experiences had brought us closer. However, the way he was acting as of right now, like we were strangers or mere acquaintances threw me off beyond belief. 

It was official, something was off.

I leaned over a little closer, trying to get him to look at me.

“Spencer, I know I’ve already asked but is anything-“ I start, and I can see him glance over, and then almost rapidly turn his gaze away.

“No! Nothing’s wrong. Let’s play.” He rushes out, his words teetering on almost being high pitched. 

It didn’t evade me however, in that short microsecond he took to look at me, his gaze dropped partially down. I internally followed his line of sight to realize that my breasts were practically spilling from my dress. I knew that it was a bit showy, but didn’t think much of it when I’d chosen to wear it for this occasion. The event was black-tie, and so I’d fished out a number I’d haphazardly bought during an online shopping spree. It was black and sparkly, but the main caveat of the dress was the gorgeous bodice in the front, managing to give a good show of cleavage whilst pushing up my breasts and making them all that more appealing to anyone who noticed.  I began to connect the events of the night, realizing that someone clearly had noticed.

Spencer’s losing streak had coincidentally begun once I’d lost the shawl that was once covering my chest. 

An idea slowly entered my head. An experiment, if you will. As we started another game, I barely paid attention as my fingers slid over to what looked like a glass of water on Spencer’s side. 

“Spence?” I murmur, tapping his shoulder.

“Mm?” He asks, not even taking a moment to look away from his cards. 

“Mind if I take a sip from your water?” I ask, keeping my voice saccharine and innocent.

I can see the look he shoots me, his eyes slightly narrowed in surprise but he quickly looks away. “Yeah, um. Sure. Go ahead.” He responds dismissively, as if talking to me for even a second longer would result in him breaking out in hives. 

 Totally out of character. For all the closeness in the world, Spencer Reid would never have shared a glass of water. 

As I began to sip the water, I did something that could be categorized as deeply stupid, but in the name of my experiment, it was absolutely necessary. I slightly tipped the glass, allowing the cool water to run down my neck and drip onto the swell of my breasts. I made a show of getting up, touching my chest to try and rid myself of the moisture that was now coating my breasts. 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’ll get you another glass of water.” I say,letting my breasts bounce a bit as I stand up,  and when he looks at me, it’s more apparent than ever that his eyes aren’t gracing mine anytime soon. Not when I was like this. 

I grinned in secret as I turned around,  quickly bringing over a replacement glass to him, leaning over so that if he were to simply turn his head even slightly to his left, he’d get a direct look at what he simply couldn’t seem to take his eyes or mind off tonight. 

“Uh. Thanks.” He stammers again, shakily drinking the water as he miserably failed at not looking. Bingo. 

When the next round of our game commenced, he lost horrifically, as expected. His mind was in an entirely different dimension, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride, knowing it was me who’d rendered him dumb. So unfocused. So unlike himself. It wasn’t until I felt a tap on my shoulder, noticing Spencer’s hand carrying out the action. 

“Walk with me.” He says, simply. His tone was so sharp and commanding, I found myself listening with no hesitation, following as we moved to a more secluded bit of the party. 

“What are you doing?” He asks in an accusatory tone, his voice a hushed whisper. 

“What do you mean?” I respond, a faux naivete in my words, which he only scoffed at. He leaned in closer, his brows furrowed. I could notice a small vein popping out from his forehead, and the sight only increased the ache I’d begun to feel in my panties since he’d directed me here. 

“You know what I mean.” He says, dangerously. “You’re flaunting yourself.” He adds, his jaw tight. “You know what it’s doing to me. You’re enjoying it.” I could tell he wanted to say so much more, the grit in his tone leading me to believe there were some much cruder words he wished to utter to me.

 Regardless, the authority in his tone only spurred me to try and resist. It was so hot watching him like this. Maybe a bit fucked up to say that, but it didn’t matter in that moment. I only wanted to test the limits. To see the new man I could bring out in Spencer Reid tonight. 

“So what if I am?” I say, biting my lip. “It’s a party, Spencer. We’re all having fun, aren’t we?” 

“No.” He responds, darkly. “I’m not having fun.” 

A proposal came to mind. One I knew that would pan out deliciously, since I’d now gotten a look into his extensive lust tonight, and just how desperate he seemed. I leaned forward to whisper to him, my lips teasing the outer shell of his ear. 

“Win another game, and I’ll show you just how much fun you could be having.”

He immediately pulls back. His eyes narrow, and I can see the weight of my words course through his mind, evaluating the odds of my statement before clicking his tongue. 

“See you in 30 minutes.” is his response, as he walks away, beckoning me to follow him to yet another Blackjack table. I grin, sitting beside him. 

My presence doesn’t seem to phase Spencer whatsoever this time around, his laser-point focus uninterrupted even as I stared shamelessly at him. It wasn't until the game seemed to be reaching its turning point, in which Spencer had to decide whether drawing or staying would bring forth a better outcome for him. I watched as he mulled over the decision for a few seconds before his eyes locked onto mine, gaze intense. 

“Draw.” He voices, not even paying mind as the dealer announced his win. 

Spencer gets up without a word, and I can see him head towards a hallway that houses a few restrooms in the building. 

“Sir- your winnings!” The dealer calls out, but I smile apologetically, starting to follow Spencer to a more secluded area of the party.

“Sorry. He’s probably a bit preoccupied. I’ll let him know!” I respond, already turning around and making my way to the same hallway Spencer had gone down, finding the bathroom and opening it. I knew Spencer would be there, but what I didn’t expect was to be pulled into his arms, greeted by Spencer’s lips insistently pressing against mine, his free hand clutching the back of my head, as his other hand went to click the lock into place. I responded with a momentary bout of shock, but quickly found myself melting into his touch, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

“You like watching me lose, is that it?” He whispers harshly, in between kisses. I can feel the anger, the lust and passion, all rolling into one as his lips meet mine, over and over again, creating the sweetest of sensations that wracked my whole body. 

“Mm. Not just you losing. You losing because you’re distracted. Because of me.” I say, my tone a bit dazed and breathy from the intensity he was putting me through. 

“Can you blame me?” He murmurs, his lips now trailing down my neck, paying close mind to a particular spot on the side that left my knees weak. “You wear this dress and expect me to not take my eyes off of you?” 

His hot breath grazes over my skin and I can feel myself shiver. I’m completely overwhelmed by him. The feel of his hands caressing the small of my back and waist, his smell of his cologne wafting around me. I can only breathe unsteadily, and hold onto him, a needy whimper slipping past my lips. 

“Shh. You’re okay. I got you.” He murmurs. His tone was sweet, soothing, but his actions were anything but, as his fingers slipped around to find the zipper on my dress. 

In an instant, his mouth was finally all over my breasts, his mouth leaving a few marks on the expanse of my chest before his tongue began to sweep over my nipples, swirling around the raised bud, leaving me grappling to his shoulders, as more moans poured out from within me. 

“You like that?” He breathes against my skin, and I nod, frantically. I’d never expected to go this weak, but he was so much more skilled with his mouth than I’d ever expected.

“Please. Keep going.” I moan, and I can feel his hands on my thighs, urging me into his arms. I comply, and can feel myself be lifted to the bathroom counter, his hands squeezing the fat of my hips before dropping to his knees. His fingers looped around my underwear, and I attempted to move in a way that would aid him in their removal. As soon as they were off, he stuffed them into his pocket, and moved to lift my dress up, his face disappearing into my now spread legs. 

And suddenly he was everywhere, tongue swiping over my clit in rapid motions, flicking against me in a way that had me immediately squeezing my thighs around his face, to which Spencer responded by pushing them apart, leaving me shaking. 

“Oh god, Spencer. Oh-” I moan, over and over again, my hand gripping onto the strands of his hair. My eyes squeeze shut as I feel my orgasm rapidly approaching, my legs trembling more than ever. 

“Spencer- I’m gonna-” I groan out, my grip tightening, and I look down, watching him devour me with so much precision and focus, the same I’d seen during his playing all night. I watched as his eyes met mine, his lips sucking around my clit and in a fit of moans, I found myself releasing all over his tongue, my body shuddering as he worked me through my orgasm, moaning against my core. 

He rose from his knees and planted a long, deep kiss on my lips, and I moaned as I tasted myself on him. My hands started to go for his belt, desperate to feel this man inside me. As soon as his cock was freed from the confines of his briefs, I guided him towards my entrance, gasping as I felt him push into me, immediately filling me up. I breathed in sharply from the pleasure of the sensation, my eyes screwing shut before opening them to see his eyes staring back at me. He gave me a moment to adjust, watching my face for any sign of discomfort, but there was none, only the carnal desperation I felt for this man. I nodded to let him know I was ready,  and suddenly, like a man possessed, he began to jut his hips towards mine, causing me to whimper and dig my nails into his back. 

He moaned as he slammed into me, over and over again, while his mouth kissed at my neck, at my jaw, my lips, murmuring my praises over and over again. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans, my hips firmly gripped by his large hands, keeping me from slipping off the counter. “And that dress. Fuck. God, I want you.” 

I nod, too overwhelmed with pleasure to even speak, rather opting to moan his name and nod furiously. 

He kept one hand on my hip, while the other trailed down to where we were joined, and began to rub fast, hard circles over my already sensitive bud, the action causing me to gasp out and open my eyes, letting him know that my second release of the night was inevitable. 

“You wanna cum, pretty girl?” He mumbles, keeping his voice low and his fingers diligent on my clit. 

“Please,” I sob out, my voice breaking with just how much I needed this right now. How much I needed him. 

“Come for me.” He murmurs, and as if under a spell, I do, coming undone rapidly in his grasp, my head falling against his shoulder as he continues the movement of his hips until I feel him still, and then spill into me, his breath heavy and chest heaving. 

I pull back, my forehead meeting his as he stares at me in a bit of a trance, our breaths mingling as we both came down from what had just happened. 

“I think.. you should probably cover up.. after that.” He murmurs, grinning a bit at the wide array of marks he’d just left on my neck and chest, undeniably exposing us. 

“Right you are.” I giggle back, leaning in for another kiss.  This time sweeter, softer.

I was definitely wearing this dress again for him.

  hello!! oh my god!! it has been so long since i've posted a fic. finals are over! i am free! i promise we will be back to a more normal schedule now (can i do weekly fics? who knows. i'll try). as usual, thank you for any and all reblogs, likes and comments. it's been a long time since i've even thought about writing, so i hope this is up to everyone's standards. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins office party challenge. so, you know. look at the other fics there too! sorry for clearly not knowing anything about card games. also also, just a fun fact. i envisioned readers dress being meredith grey's prom dress from s2ep27.. hehe. okay, i've already talked enough. thank you thank you thank you for reading and supporting!!!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

[itsyou-itsme-itsus]

hey, i started to read gambled away chapter 4, then i realized it was chapter 4. i went looking for chapter 1 and i can only find chapters 2 and 4. Do yk where i could find 1 and 3 or did they get taken down? so excited to read this!

Gambled Away first one

Chapter 3

Sorry about that, working on the masterlist and all the links still.

Thank you for reading and for the Ask, I hope you enjoy it!

#gambled away fic #ask #thank you

[lonelystarrs]

𝑫𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝑻𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉.

𝗧𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗭𝗲𝗻’i𝗻 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

His gambling and betting habits often got himself into situations he’d rather not be in, it’s what landed him here at this stupid Halloween party with his utter goof of a girlfriend, but there were plans hiding under that ridiculous outfit.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI + smut + crack + size kink + ghostface! Toji + whip use + switch reader + mean Toji + public sex +

4.7k smut fic • I am unwell • enjoy my terrible humour. Kinktober

Part Two: Maid Zen’in

You thought you were real fucking funny didn’t you? Turning up in that ridiculous outfit.

Gojo was already cackling and elbowing Toji in the side.

“It’s hilarious, you sure got a keeper huh Zen’in?”

Toji rolled his eyes, thick shoulders hunching more and biceps bulging from his arms crossed. His ghostface mask sitting on the side of his head so he could literally drink his way out of this.

“Gotta admit, I still would.”

“Yeah? Feel free.” Toji sneered, trying so hard not to watch you but it was hard not to, you were busting out moves on the dance floor and because of the air filled suit, the moves were impossible to actually see them.

No matter where he looked, he could see the air filled horn bobbing around above the heads of others in the crowd of people at the club, the laser lights illuminating to the music as you danced with no care in the world amongst a group of people.

You said you were coming as a murderous unicorn, which was ridiculous enough, but what you were wearing was anything but fucking murderous, maybe to Toji’s ego and pride. The mane was rainbow, the white blow up body suit you had on filled with air and a pair of heels.

Fucking designer, red bottom strappy heels, in that costume.

“Yo, Zenin, isn’t that your girl?”

“No.” Toji denied it many times this evening, even though those asking knew otherwise.

Gojo cackled again, elbowing Suguru who joined the conversation as he watched you moving on the dance floor having far too much fun for your own good, the air filled suit making you move in a way that was fucking hilarious to the six eyes.

Toji knew why you were doing it, because you’d gotten into a argument this morning and he’d made a snide remark about something he didn’t even remember quite frankly, either way you’d fallen out and had been giving him the cold shoulder all day. Even meeting him here instead of coming with him.

Now though he was glad for the distance, soon as he seen you he couldn’t help but think thank fuck he walked into this club alone. He just had to bear witness to you flirting with the bouncers as they bantered with you about your outfit.

He wore a black tight muscle shirt, with black jeans, a holster on his chest with two big hunting knives either side and a ghost mask.

He looked like a threat, like something suitable for Halloween, you just looked like a girl living her princess dream prancing around like a pony. It was your whole idea coming to this thing in the first place and the only reason he was going was because he lost a bet with you, his damn gambling habit presenting her karma for him finding any opportunity to bet irresistible.

“Eh, she is sure giving it beans with those dance moves.” Satoru couldn’t help himself, his eyes were twinkling with amusement, he couldn’t stop watching you.

“I’m surprised you came, Toji, not usually your kind of thing.” Suguru at least was less bothersome on the topic.

“Oh look she’s on her way over!”

It was embarrassing watching you waddle through the crowds, beaming a smile that was only making his jaw clench and when you eyed him, giving him a flirty look of acknowledgment before changing your pace to a flirty strut, Toji nearly walked away.

“Hey handsome, do you wanna feed the pony?”

Gojo Satoru lost it beside you, bellowing a laugh at your over the top flirtation and even Suguru started to laugh.

“-cause you make me so hooooorny T.”

Your hands lifted to flick the bobbling horn on your head and Toji grabbed his mask pulling it back over his face before storming off to the bar again. Leaving Gojo to strut up to you and smack a hand on your shoulder in some kind of praise, perhaps he should just let you both date.

Perfectly suited for each other and the six eyes did have a thing for you, the sulking for two weeks after Toji first claimed you as his girl was enough of a clue. Let alone the remarks Satoru made towards you, his eyeballing and offering to date you instead of Toji.

But you’d always refused.

And he was kinda glad, as odd as it could be at times you did bring some fun to Toji’s life, a perfectly grown women when needed but that side of you that had zero ability to be embarrassed was troublesome, but at times entertaining. He could banter with you in a way he couldn’t with females usually and you only dished it back.

But the sex, fuckkkk the sex. You were insatiable and you’d even made his eyes almost cross a few times, how you sucked his cock was unworldly and lucky for him you couldn’t get enough of doing it.

Toji took a seat at the bar, ordering a strong whiskey to try give him some hope on getting through this evening with some sanity, how long he was sat there he didn’t know, but being alone only gave the opportunity for girls to come up to him.

So you wanted to play huh?

He could play, perhaps make you regret trying to show him up like that.

He entertained it, a girl in an angle costume coming up, her tits out held by some flimsy looking material that Toji could so easily rip from her, some skimpy white skirt that was hiding nothing, white stockings on show and pretty blonde hair.

She wasn’t exactly horrifying, but this was what girls went for this time of year, not like he was complaining -he was a guy after all.

She twirled her finger around a strand of hair, battering her eye lashes at him.

“You’re like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh yeah?” Toji smirked, turning in his seat to face her, giving her the once over, “—how so?”

Toji played it clever, soaking up the praise instead of giving it just because if you were looking you’d be none the wiser. As much of a woman jumper as he used to be Toji was loyal when treated well, and treated well by you he certainly was.

The blonde reached out to trace a finger on his muscles, dragging an acrylic nail down the line between his bicep.

“You’re huge-“

“So I’ve been told,”

“Anything else big about you?”

Toji chuckled tilting his head to her when she bravely gripped his arm and squeezing the bicep, just as he was about to say that’s enough a riding crop slammed down between them, hitting the bar with enough force everyone sat there spun around.

“Hey angel face, he flexing his muscles for you hmm? He’s such a show off, thought I trained him better than that.”

Toji knew that tone, the kind that made him lay back let you ride him until you were spent, the kind that kinda made him melt a little inside for you —not like you’d ever, in a million fucking years, know that.

Green eyes turned to meet you, expecting to see you in that ridiculous blow up unicorn suit, instead it was gone and suddenly he was wondering where the hell it was so he could put it back on you to stop the amount of looks you were getting.

Stood there with the lights dancing around you in leather chaps with studs, a leather bra with a body harnesses a fucking pink gag horse bit dangling down your neck resting between your collar bones and bright red lipstick, hair into a clean, high ponytail with a crop in hand.

And he knew his dick was gonna be under those red bottomed heels this evening.

You had a black, glittery horn on your head that had red glitter spilling down it that imitated blood, along with make up running down your forehead in red glitter.

This was your damn take on a murderous unicorn?

The blonde went to open her mouth, but you beat her to it, pressing the crop under her chin and closing it for her.

“Shh, this guy-“ you stepped forward and Toji reached for you, standing behind you as he pulled you in, a large hand made its way around your neck to grip it from behind “-he doesn’t fuck angels, he’s too corrupt for that.”

The smirk that spread over his face was nasty, tilting your head back into his chest and pressing his lips to yours, going straight for your bottom lip with his teeth and pulling.

He felt you moan against his tongue as it swiped your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Playin’ a dangerous game comin’ out like this doll,”

“Yeah?”

Toji hummed whilst kissing you upside down again,

“Yeah, s’get outta here-“

“Or-“ you span around in his arms, leaned up to him and brushed your lips against his, “-we can use the private room back there for VIP.”

Toji rose an eyebrow at you, you only grinning at him and grabbing his hand to lead the way through the groups of people until you both reached a gold door, the bouncer there nodded at you and Toji rose an eyebrow.

Since when did you know people on that level to only be acknowledged through nodding?

Your back hit the door the moment it shut and Toji was on you within seconds, hand gripping your neck and squeezes it in the way he knew made your cunt clench, choking you lightly whilst tilting your head up to him feeling your little moan on his palm against your throat.

“What you got goin’ on in that head of yours sweetheart? I ain’t stupid.”

You shrugged, “-nothing really, but I am wondering if you wanna make a lil bet again.”

Toji rose an eyebrow, leaning back slightly to look around the room, it wasn’t huge, the seats were black trimmed with gold in a booth shape with a small table off to the side.

“Keep talkin’”

“I’m thinking, you let me take control and if you lose it I win.”

Toji snorted a laugh, “-you won’t even get my cock in that tight lil cunt without my help doll, you think you’re gonna manage with me just sitting back?”

“If I need your help, then I lose.”

He released you and stepped back until he let himself slump back onto the booth, spreading his legs and his arms across the top of the booth, one hand reaching down to unbuckle his belt and undo the button to his jeans, pulling the zipper down. His skin tight top riding up showing the lines of his V that lead to a cock too big for most girls to handle. The black pubic trail of hair also leading a line down into his boxers.

“C’mon then sweetheart, it’s all yours.”

He was snide, cocky with how he was sat spread out and you smirked at him stepping forwards, pressing the crop under his chin and tilting it up to you looking down on him, his green eyes glazed with sly intention, his smirk only aiding it.

“You’re not allowed to touch me, clear?”

Toji rolled his eyes and shrugged “-whatever you say, boss. You’ll be begin’ for me too long before I need to.”

Toji’s eyes widened when you actually smacked the crop across his face, anger filtered through him briefly at you having the fucking balls to even think you’d get away with it, but when he looked back at you, eyes half hooded with some kind of pissed off look he only felt his cock throb. The leather you wore was glistening in the low lights, hugging every curve and pressing your tits up perfectly.

“Less snark, Zen’in, it’s boring me.”

Holy shit —fuck you were still surprising him 2 years into this damn relationship, how the hell had you hidden this from him? You had attitude, that was never hidden and fucking it outta you was borderline impossible, but it didn’t mean keeping you fucked dumb didn’t work until you got bratty again.

He glared at you, hands balling into fists and his jaw clenched, the red welt forming on his cheek as he held eyes with you.

“Don’t push it,”

“I plan to, Toji, or do you feel yourself losing patience already? Might be an easy win for me after all.”

You litt-

Toji groaned, his stomach tensing as the ball of your foot pressed into his semi hard dick only encourage it to harden under it, his hips rolled and his head tilted back, keeping eyes with you as you watched his reaction.

“Been thinking about sucking you off all night, my mouths watering over it T.”

“As said doll, it’s all yours.”

You hummed and stepped forward, pulling his jeans down just enough to free his dick as it slapped against his stomach, pre drooling from the tip into the deep lines of his six pack.

“You’re drooling already, Toji.”

He watched as you lowered yourself between his legs, bending forward to run your tongue between the lines of his six pack collecting pre on your tongue, teasingly running it around the head of his dick not touching it directly, only grazing the tip with the underside of your tongue. Your eyes never leaving his as your placed your hands on his thighs.

“That’s it-“ Toji sucked in air, his muscles tensing under your tongue as he watched you, eyes focused on your tongue glistening with drool and pre.

You pressed a kiss to the underside of his head, peppering them down the length of him before your tongue pressed to the base and ran up to the tip again, letting a glob of spit drip to cover it. His cock flexed against his stomach, smearing the spit along his skin as it rested heavy on his stomach.

His eyes rolled back when you finally wrapped your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks and sucking before bobbing your head with your hand twisting, keeping to the top of his dick and moving your tongue around the head. His hips bucked, fingers digging into the booths padding to stop himself reaching out, cause all he wanted was to grip your hair and fuck your face like a fleshlight. See how watery your eyes got, watch the drool spilling down your chin, see how well your throat bulged out from his dick, pressing his hand against your throat to feel himself fucking you.

But he was a man of strong will, even if his toes were curling in his shoes as you worked his cock like a dream, the squelching of your mouth as spit started to dribble down his dick. You kept going in the same pattern, twisting your hand when it separated from your mouth bobbing and sucking him in, your tongue swirling around this head giving him constant friction.

“Gonna suck the cum outta me? Fuck -hah- shit doll, that your fucking plan?”

He felt you laugh on him, pulling away with a pop and drool down your cheeks, red lip stick smeared on your lips and his dick.

Your eyes all glassy and panting lightly looking at him with fuck me eyes and his heart thumped against his rib cage, kicking away in a flutter that only pissed him off. He knew he liked you, way too fucking much for his own sanity and it pissed him off that you got under his skin in a way he couldn’t get enough of.

But how you looked right now? Between his thick thighs, running your tongue up and down his big cock that looked so huge in your hands, staring at him with eyes like that, willingly making a mess of yourself on him?

Fuck it took everything in him to not reach out and kiss you stupid, to bury his cock into you and let you cum over and over on him in a love language only he could give.

You didn’t reply, instead you stood and placed your feet on the booth seat either side of him, then lifting your right to place beside his head, hovering your cunt over him as you ran two fingers over your clothed pussy.

“No Toji, that’s not my plan.”

He groaned when you pushed the material aside, letting him view your glistening cunt as it drooled with slick. He was half expecting you to let him touch you at this point, his cock flexing against his stomach as his own pre started to leak into his muscle lines again. Watching as one hand spread yourself open for him, the other rolling around your clit.

It was cruel how you moaned above him, it was mean as you pressed two fingers into your tight hole letting him watch you spread yourself open for him.

“You’re clenching around those fingers, they ain’t deep enough are they sweetheart? Trying to act like a little whore but you can’t fuck yourself like that, y’need me, so why don’t you just give in?”

Toji reached for his own cock, wrapping a fist around himself slowly stroking.

“-sit on my face, get that other leg up and put that pussy where it it belongs hmm? I’ll get you cummin’ how you like.”

Pulling your fingers back covered in slick you toyed with your clit again, hips rolling as you lowered yourself to his face.

“S’it baby, she needs my mouth hmm? I know what she needs-“

“M’gonna cum-“ Toji hid his sneer as he watched you pick up your pace, rolling your clit around your slick covered fingers and he could see your little hole clenching around nothing, fluttering as you came.

His nice attitude left him, sneering an insult under his breath as you cummed over his face, thinking he almost had you breaking the bet by caving first.

“Open your mouth T, I’ll let you catch it,”

Green eyes focused on the clear slick starting to drool from your fluttering hole, a link forming and he held his tongue out, letting the sweetness of you coat it.

“You’re so fucking hot, honestly.” Toji hummed at your praise and taste of you, your foot retreated from besides his head, falling to your knees either side of him, eyes all glassy and pretty, pink dusting across your cheeks.

Your hand reached down to grab his dick from his own hands, wrapping a hand around him and rubbing his head at your hole.

“You’re brave but you ain’t doin’ that without me. No fucking chance.”

You hummed and let your weight start to drop onto him, the stretch already too much as his thick head pushed through the tight ring of muscle, both moaning at the feel of it, your warmth starting to swallow him in.

He gave an airy chuckle when he seen you panting, struggling to take him when you got half way.

“What’s wrong brat? Thought you had this, you look like you’re struggling to me.”

You glared at him, reaching up and turning the ghost face mask on the side of his head to cover him completely.

“Shut up you asshole,”

His patience was dancing on thin ice, the need to thrust into you and bury you to hilt, to bully the rest of his thick cock into you was making his nerves jump. As much as he tried to ignore the need to grip your hips and slam into you, to fuck you until you seen stars and begged him to stop was overwhelming.

However when you slammed yourself down onto him, his head tilted back.

“Ah fuck- you little brat-“

Your hands gripped his shoulders and you spread your knees further from him, already feeling so full. You looked up only to see him tilting his head back, his breathing picking up and his hips stuttering under you fighting the instinct to move.

You couldn’t see his face, covered by the ghost face mask and it only made it hotter. Your hands gripped the material either side of it and tilted him to look at you.

When you started to bounce on him, your walls tightened around him still trying to adjust, his eyes rolled back under the mask only opening again to see you above him looking fucked out.

“Shit, sweetheart y-you’re, fuck me, shit, y’fucking yourself dumb on this fat dick?”

You nodded dumbly at him giving him a panty ‘uh-huh’ as you sank yourself down on him again.

“Harder, if you’re gonna fuck this dick do it harder, I wanna see you strugglin’ on it.”

His hands were flexing on the booth, he started to fidget under you as you kept a pace that was no where close to getting you both to cum, he wasn’t a fool, he ever was a stupid man…

He knew you were doing it to break him first and when that thought crept into his head about giving in, he couldn’t ignore it.

You felt wet, you sounded soaking and he could feel your slick drooling down past his balls. Fucking him with this mask on like he was some toy for you was in fucking credible.

To top it all off you had the balls to smack him with that whip, the boss him around which no one done, and you were both in public.

He wanted your mouth, fuck he wanted your tongue down his throat as you whimpered into him.

He was never one who bothered about consequences, never one to care about repercussions.

“You never told me -hah- you never said what the loser has to do.”

“Maid outfit-“ you painted out, “-fucking you in this mask is so hot, fuck your dick is made f’me T.”

“Maid outfit? Loser wears one?”

You nodded dumbly and he chuckled, that’s it?

“That’s it? Fuck this-“

Toji reached up, tearing the mask off and throwing it across the booth, his large hands reaching down to grab your ass painfully.

“You ain’t walkin’ outta here pretty girl, I ain’t carrying you either-“ your eyes widened as he pulled from you , his tip just stretching you out as a wild smirk blew across his face, his eyes almost dots as he looked at you like he was about to kill you “-you little brat, I’m gonna watch you struggle then I’m gonna fuck you even harder when we get home.”

He seen your face fall, the regret perhaps dancing across your eyes and he soaked it up knowing it would fade by tomorrow. Knowing you’d be your cocky self all over again.

And he couldn’t wait.

His pace was brutal, hips slapping up into you with such force your skin was starting to sting, the leather of your outside screeching with each movement.

“Kiss, now-“ his demand was through panting, his breathing heavy as he worked his body to bully his cock inside of you, you gave him wanted he wanted as your whimpers and moans vibrated against his tongue. He swallowed each noise, his hands bruising on your ass cheeks as he held onto them for life.

Then you made a noise he’d never heard, almost a sob that mixed with a moan.

“Atta girl, keep making that noise-“ your arms wrapped around his neck, burying your face into it as your body stuttered and he knew he hit the place he was looking for, “-there it is, gonna cum for me you little slut? Can feel her squeezing me, she’s so tight”

He moaned into your ear, teeth biting at it as he coaxed you into coming with harsh words.

“M’cumming, holy shit Toji-Toji slow down, fuck m’gonna cum!”

“Do it then, I want her sucking the cum outta me, gonna have it drooling down your legs when we get outta here, whole clubs gonna see you’re a slut.”

The moan you gave was pained, frustrated as you danced on the edge of cumming, that coil so tight in your stomach, feeling like you were gonna snap but it wasn’t happening.

“Fuck!” You growled out in frustration into his neck, shifting yourself against him and he chuckled.

“She’s as stubborn as you huh?” He wrapped an arm around you, turning you so your back landed on the booth seat and his other hand grabbed the mask he flung off, pulling it back over his head as he towered over you.

“Look at you, tiny, pathetic little thing- look so dumb all cock drunk,” he rotated his cock inside you, hips moving in a circle as he looked down on you in the ghost mask.

Your hands reaching up to grip his biceps that bulged from holding his weight above you and he looked huge, made you feel like nothing under him. The low light of the room almost blocked out by his shoulders.

He started to rut into you, pressing a thumb to your clit and rolling rough circles around it. A strangled noise leaving you as your hips bucked up, tears welling in your eyes as your body started to shake under him.

“It’s too much, T-Toji it’s too much.”

“Yeah? Deal with it, I’m gonna cum soon and I don’t give a shit if you don’t,”

The panic on your face was enough to make him smirk under the mask, rolling his thumb around your clit harshly knowing it would be too much to actually make you cum.

“I want to,” your head rolled back and tears finally fell from your eyes in frustration, fucked beyond the point of cumming for him as you felt that knot slipping away left with raw, frustrating over stimulation from his rough handling.

“Then cum like a slut, you know how to do it.”

He moved his thumb, slowing his pace to harder thrusts that made your body jolt, tits bounce with each delayed, wet plap, plap, plap of his dick bullying into you.

When your eyes glazed over, your body relaxed under him he knew he had you were he wanted, Toji dropped to his elbows, leaning down to your ear as his hips worked to keep you both going.

“Baby-“ he cooed into you, voice slightly muffled under the mask, “-you feel good, pussy made f’me yeah?”

He felt you nod dumbly, your moans jolted by his hips.

“And dicks made for ya, sweetheart, she’s sucking me in so well.”

He knew he was contradicting himself making a fucking idiot out of his previous taunting that he’d cum without you, but seeing you actually frustrated, tears spilling down and you struggled made the little empathy he had in life flicker.

He kept his short punches, his lower stomach rubbing against your clit and keeping his cock punching that spot inside you until you cried out, suddenly cumming around him violently. Clinging onto him for dear life and sobbing after, pushing his mask off again so you could look at him.

“Damn girl, you’re -“ he groaned at your face, absolutely ruined from his rough treatment, your lipstick smeared, eyeliner smudged with drool and tears.

Your walls fluttering around him brought him with you, curling himself over you until he folded you up, burying himself balls deep as he emptied into you, stuttering, airy curses leaving him as he convulsed against you, hips jolting as your walls pressed around him swimming his dick in cum.

You were slack under him and his energy spent as he almost fell into you, burying his face into your neck as your panting filled the room.

Bodies aching as you pulled apart, Toji sitting back on the booth and leaning his head back, chest still heaving to bring air into his lungs.

He side glanced at you, looking at your pretty face before moving down to your swollen hole leaking cum from it. Toji reached out and patted your public bone.

“She takes me like a champ-“

You deadpanned, before sitting up onto your elbows still recovering with a breathy voice.

“She doesn’t have a choice, you monster.”

Your foot playfully pushed him and he grabbed it, bringing it up to his head so he could kiss the inside of your ankle.

“Seem to be dealin’ with it just fine,”

“So, you liked the unicorn thing?”

“No. Don’t ever do it again, I’ll leave your ass and Gojo can have you.”

“Really? Cause I was thinking of a new theme song, it’s a twist on the original-“

“Don’t sing it,”

“My lil pony, you wanna bone me~?“

©pharix/lonelystarrs 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.

If you want Toji in the maid outfit here’s the link to the next part : Maid Zen’in

#jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jjk smut #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #kinktober jjk #kinktober toji #jjk fluff #jjk crack #jjk fanfiction #jjk toji #dilf toji #toji fushiguro fluff #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji zenin #Zen’in toji

[daisynik7]

“Earned it” by The Weeknd for Levi Ackerman- Smut + Fluff

thank you

Earned It

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~7.0k

cw: yakuza au, modern setting au, adult themes, gang-related violence, mentions of blood, explicit language, fluff, smut – fingering, cunnilingus, PIV sex (doggy style), cream pie, unprotected sex

Summary: Levi is the current leader of a Yakuza organization called the Ackerman Clan. Fearless, ruthless, cold-blooded. Your deadbeat father owes a debt to his Uncle Kenny after borrowing a sum of money to gamble on horse races many years ago, a debt that hasn’t been forgotten. He has since abandoned you and one day, the Ackerman Clan tracks you down, claiming that you are now the owner of this debt. Without the means to pay for it out of pocket, Levi employs you to be his personal housekeeper until you’ve earned the money to pay it off. 

Author’s Note: Wow okay my first Levi fic EVER and I totally got carried away! I had so much fun writing this one, so I hope the rest of you enjoy it! Thanks for the request for the y2k karaoke party! This gave me the perfect excuse to finally write for Levi. MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune. Thank you for reading! Tagging @crazychaoticizzy!

It's an average Wednesday when you receive a call from your mother in the middle of your workday. She usually doesn’t call unless it’s important, so you answer, already nervous for what she’s about to tell you. “Mom? Are you okay?”

Her tone is somber. “Honey, please come home. Now.” You can hear other people speaking in the background, alarm bells immediately ringing in your head. It’s been you and your mother alone for the past decade now, abandoned by your father before your high school graduation. You have no idea who would be in your home at this time. Freaking out, you ask, “What’s going on? What’s happening?!”

Before she can respond, there’s shuffling, then a man you don’t recognize on the other line. “You should listen to your mother.” His voice is cold, terse, sinister. It sends a chill down your spine.

Immediately, you excuse yourself from work, briefly describing a family emergency to your boss. You hop on the closest train, jittering in your seat, sweating bullets, stomach tight with anxiety. All you need to know is that your mom is safe. As soon as you’re out of the station, you remove the heels off your feet to run home. When you arrive, you notice a black car with tinted windows parked in the driveway and the front door already swung open. Winded and out of breath, you double over with the impulse to vomit, already expecting the worse. You swallow down the urge, collecting yourself, and walk inside.

You’re met by three strangers: two men and a woman. She looks young, gaze cold on yours, studying you carefully. The taller of the men is significantly older, hunched over, lanky, with a cigarette between his crooked smile. The other is short, but his domineering presence seems to overwhelm the rest of them. The cold gaze, the stagnant frown, the tightness in his brows. There’s an aura to him that shows he’s not one to be messed with. Before you can even confirm, you know that this man is the one who spoke to you earlier on the phone. Their leader. 

Your mom is seated on the couch, cowering in fear when she calls out to you. “Honey!”

You step towards them, wanting to approach her, but you’re stopped by the woman, staring daggers at you, her hand concealed inside her jacket, ready to attack if necessary. It’s a warning: Don’t come any closer or else. “Mikasa, relax. She ain’t even armed,” the older man says. He points to her, winking at you. “Sorry about my niece; she’s got some anger issues. Runs in the family, actually.”

Without removing her gaze from you, she mutters, “Shut up, Kenny.”

He laughs, puffs of smoke escaping his mouth. He removes the cigarette, tapping the ashes onto the hardwood floor of your living room before stepping closer towards you. “I should be the one upset here.” His eyes scan your figure up and down, smirking. “Right, Levi?”

You shiver from his wicked expression, glancing at your mother who stares wide-eyed at you in a panic. “What’s the meaning of this?” you ask shakily. 

The shorter man, apparently named Levi, comes forward, glaring at you. “You owe the Ackerman Clan money. Two million yen with all the interest that’s been accruing for the past ten years.” 

“We never borrowed money from you!” you argue. 

“You didn’t. But your father did,” Kenny interjects. “The dumbass didn’t know how to gamble on the right horse. Lost each race and came crawling back to me for more and more money. I gave him two years to pay me back without interest, but I suppose he ran off on you and your poor mother before he could pay it. Now, it’s way past due. I need my money back.”

That no-good, deadbeat father of yours. Of course he’s the one behind this. He’s always had a gambling addiction, ever since you were little. Borrowed money left and right from distant relatives, friends, coworkers, and apparently strangers. You thought he’d at least have the decency to pay them off on the occasions he actually scored big, but who are you kidding? All he spent his winnings on was more booze to drown out the fact that he never cared or provided for his family. You shake your head, tears welling in your eyes. “You should be asking him for the money, not us.”

Levi’s eyes narrow. “You don’t think we already tried looking for him? We can’t find him. He’s gone. Someone else has to be responsible for it now. And that means his wife and his kid. You.”

“We don’t have that kind of money just laying around,” you say, hoping that somehow, this Yakuza gang is nice enough to forgive the debt.

Kenny barks a laugh. “Well, you’re shit out of luck then, huh? Just like your lousy father.”

You wince at his harsh words, simultaneously agreeing with him. Levi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “If you can’t pay off this debt within the next three months, we’ll be forced to take more severe action.”

“What do you mean?” you stutter. A variety of cruel punishments flash through your head, causing your knees to wobble in fear, though you manage to stay upright. 

“You don’t want to find out,” he threatens with a dark look.

You swallow loudly, unable to hide your dread any longer. Crying, you fall to your knees in a begging position, peering up at Levi with weepy eyes. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt my mom. Leave her out of this.”

Your mother sobs into her hands, your name muffled against her palms. Even through your blurred vision, you notice Levi’s expression waver just the slightest. 

“Maybe she can work for you,” Mikasa suggests. Her tone has changed to one of sympathy, unexpectedly considering her intimidating demeanor moments ago. 

Levi scoffs. “And what would she do for me? I doubt she can fight.”

There’s a pause as you watch them contemplate your fate. Kenny is the first one to offer an answer. “Housekeeper. She can be your housekeeper!”

Levi grimaces at the suggestion. “Excuse me?”

Kenny walks towards him, ruffling his nephew’s hair, much to his dismay. Levi swats him away, scowling as his uncle explains, “You spend so much goddamn time cleaning your own house, it’s about time you hire someone to do it for you. You’re the leader of the Ackerman Clan now. Time is money. You can’t be wasting it dusting when you can just make someone else do it for you.” He squats, legs spread wide, meeting you face-to-face. “Can you clean?”

You wipe away the tears streaming down your face, nodding.

“Can you cook?”

You nod again, more confidently this time. 

He slaps his knee. “Well, there you go! Looks like we found the solution. You’re hired. Levi will pay you at the end of each day. Your wages after three months should be enough to cover the debt you owe me. If you work overtime, you’ll earn extra cash. Sound good?” He sticks his hand out, waiting for you to shake on it. 

Three months of housekeeping and cooking for the leader of a Yakuza gang, who already looks like he despises you? It’s either that or whatever punishment he originally has in mind, which sounds much more painful and ominous. 

Before you agree, you ask, “What about my regular job?”

He strokes his chin, thinking. “Damn, forgot about that. Well, Little Levi here can compensate you for that as well. You’ll have to quit it in the meantime, but this gig is much better, don’t cha think?”

Levi raises his voice, angry now. “Don’t I get a say in this?! Who said I have the money to pay her?!”

Kenny waves him off, smirking. “You don’t drink, you don’t gamble, and you don’t fuck. So what else are you doing with all that money?”

At this, Levi gapes at his uncle, blushing. “I’m the fucking captain here, aren’t I? I won’t allow this.”

Kenny rolls his eyes, standing up to stretch his back. “Fine. Got a better idea? We don’t have all fucking day to argue about this, you know.”

After a few more disgruntled huffs from Levi without any other real suggestions, you are officially hired as Levi Ackerman’s housekeeper. 

~~~

Levi doesn’t need a fucking housekeeper. He’s the cleanest goddamn person in this entire godforsaken planet. Sure, he spends at least two hours at the start of his morning doing household chores to ensure that everything in his home is spick and span. But what’s so wrong about that? It’s the only solace he finds in this cruel world. The only aspect of his life that he can control. 

So, when his new hire arrives to his house seven o’clock sharp the very next day, Levi’s already in a bad mood. And when she smiles brightly at him, greeting him, “Good morning!” in an all-too-cheery voice that drips with enthusiasm and spirit despite the shitty situation she’s in, he can’t help but become even more irritated. She can’t possibly be excited about this. It’s all a façade, an act. Fake. He’s seen it before, from so-called friends, family members, strangers on the street. People only connect with him if there’s something to gain from it. And in this case, the money to pay her father’s debt is her end-goal, and nothing else. He reminds himself that she’s not here for him. No one ever is.

He doesn’t respond to her, turning on his heel to lead her inside. Without saying so, she removes her shoes, tucking them into an empty slot on the shoe rack, following him. Unfortunately, Kenny’s been here since half an hour ago, taking his usual breakfast: a cup of black coffee and a frozen waffle, toasted until lukewarm. And of course, there’s already crumbs on the table, but Levi ignores it, knowing that she’s responsible for this mess now, not him. 

“Morning,” Kenny drawls, raising his mug to her. She waves, still nervous around them, naturally, but her smile stays on. 

Levi hands her a sheet of paper, typed out with proper instructions. “Everything you need to know is on here. Unless you’re illiterate and can’t read, I won’t need to explain anything to you, right?”

She scans the document quickly, shaking her head at the end. “Seems simple enough.” 

“My nephew here likes things spotless,” Kenny adds, spit flying out of his mouth as he chews the rest of his breakfast. “Total clean freak and perfectionist. He’ll be on your ass about a simple speck of dust.”

“It’s not clean if there’s still dust,” he emphasizes. 

Her attention goes to the fridge. “What about meals? What do you like to eat?”

“I’m not picky. I usually don’t eat breakfast and lunch is brought to me at the office. So dinner is the only meal you have to cook. Like I said, I’m not picky. But it better not be instant ramen or something. I’m not paying you to feed me that processed shit.” Truthfully, he already eats that junk for lunch, often opting for fast food because it’s quick and easy while he’s out on a job. But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. He shoots a glare at his uncle when he notices him snickering to himself, clearly aware of his less-than-ideal diet. 

After a brief tour of the house, not including his bedroom, which will remain off limits, him and Kenny leave to start the day. Levi is reluctant at first, unsure if she can live up to his high standards of tidiness, but even he can admit that it’s more productive when he arrives to their headquarters on time. 

The day goes by smoothly; the extra two hours that Levi gains by entrusting another person to his usual morning ritual proves to be beneficial for both him and his gang. They are able to add an extra stop to their daily rounds, collecting owed money from sleezy businesses and seedy underground organizations. They only resort to violence once, with Levi squeezing a man’s head between his shoe and the pavement until he coughs up the dough. In his eyes, today was a good day. 

Kenny drops him off back home around eight when it’s already dark out. The lights are on, glowing through the shaded windows. He digs into his pocket for the keys, retrieving them to unlock the door, his nostrils immediately hit with a sensational aroma wafting from the kitchen. Sliding out of his shoes, he steps further inside, following the scent. 

She’s leaning over the stove, steam puffing from whatever pan she’s cooking in. He drops his keys on the counter, clearing his throat to make his presence known. 

“Hello, Mr. Ackerman,” she says, turning to face him. “Perfect timing. Dinner is just about ready. I’ll serve it to you now.”

He slides a chair out from the dining table, taking a seat, watching as she moves around the kitchen. She scoops white rice into a bowl, then the food onto a plate, setting it front of him. It looks delicious; glazed meat scattered with a variety of fresh vegetables. “It’s chicken stir fry,” she explains. “It isn’t gourmet or anything, but it’s hearty and filling. I hope you like it.”

He remains silent, holding a piece of broccoli at the end of his chopstick, blowing on it before putting it in his mouth. The sauce is savory, pairing well with the typically bland vegetable. He digs into the chicken, enjoying how juicy and flavorful it is. It’s nothing he hasn’t had before, but still; it’s tasty. 

She stands beside him, watching him eat with a small grin on her face. “What would you like to drink?”

He swallows, replying, “I like tea. Hot tea. Decaf.”

“On it,” she says, heading back into the kitchen, filling a kettle with water to heat on the stove. Within ten minutes, she returns with a cup in one hand, the kettle in the other, pouring him freshly brewed tea. 

It’s quiet, Levi eating peacefully while she continues to observe him. He’s not quite sure what to say; do they make small talk? Does he compliment her cooking? How do people engage with others during a time like this?

Her stomach growls loudly, which he immediately notices. He raises a brow at her, pointing his chopsticks towards the kitchen. “You should eat too. If you’re hungry.”

“Is that alright?” 

He nods, looking down at his plate. “It’s better than watching me eat while you’re starving, right?”

She laughs, going back into the kitchen once again. “Yes, of course.” She comes back, sitting across from him to start eating. Not knowing what else to discuss over dinner, Levi asks her about the chores she should have accomplished today, to which she reports back in detail. It sounds as if she went through eat item on the list, though the true test will be when he inspects it himself. Their conversation flows well; he usually hates conversing with people when it isn’t necessary. He can’t remember the last time he shared a homecooked meal with someone else. He’s always at home after work, alone. Mikasa is too busy with her own family, and Levi can hardly stand his uncle’s presence to begin with, so he always preferred being alone. 

This, however, this he doesn’t mind. Surprisingly. 

Before he gets too comfortable with the idea, he reminds himself once more that this is simply the deal they agreed to. There’s no room for sentimentality. She’s here because she was forced into this role, not because she wants to be here. This is business. This is temporary.

And with that in mind, Levi strengthens the integrity of the walls he barricades around him, determined not to let anyone but himself in.

~~~

Your first month of employment go by as smoothly as you hope it would be, given your circumstances. Every day, you arrive at Levi’s house seven in the morning on the dot, greeting him with a smile. You figured it wouldn’t do you any good to show your fear of the Yakuza in front of the leader himself. And, in all honestly, you weren’t actually that scared of him. While he’s cold and blunt most of the time, he hasn’t done anything to frighten you yet, aside from your initial meeting. It helps that you only see him for a few minutes in the morning when he lets you in, and at most an hour at the end of the day, when you share dinner together. Before you leave, he hands you an envelope with your day’s wages, and that’s that. Based on the lack of criticism, you assume that you’re doing a good enough job.

On the second month, you begin to make lunches for him in addition to your usual routine. Uncle Kenny had mentioned several times in secret that Levi eats fast food because of the convenience. Sometimes, he skips a meal all together when they’re especially busy. 

When you arrive to his home, you greet him with your usual smile, while he gives you a curt nod, avoiding your gaze. He shouts behind him, “Kenny, let’s go!”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him, saying, “Oh, Mr. Ackerman! Before you leave, I prepared lunch for you.”

He whips around to face you, eyes narrowed as if you just insulted him. “What?”

Nervous now, you stammer, “I made you lunch. I heard that sometimes you skip meals, so I thought – ”

He steps towards you, glaring, not letting you finish. “This isn’t part of the list. I don’t need it. I don’t want it.” He turns on his heel, leaving you stunned as he heads for the car, slamming the door shut. 

You scurry into the kitchen, face hot, reeling over his unpleasant reaction to your simple gesture. Kenny leans back in his chair, feet up on the table, chugging the rest of his coffee. “Morning.”

“Hi Kenny.” You wash your hands at the sink, processing what just happened, growing increasingly upset. 

Kenny gets up, sliding his used mug beside you. “Thanks, darling.” Not wanting to waste your efforts, you call out to him, opening the fridge to retrieve the bento you prepared, handing it to him. 

“What’s this?” he asks, smirking.

“I made it for Mr. Ackerman, but he doesn’t want it. I don’t want it to go to waste,” you explain.

He smiles, genuinely grateful, the expression you were mistakenly expecting from Levi. “Thank you. Take care.” 

When he’s gone, you take a minute in the kitchen to relax, reminding yourself to stick to the list and not do anything extra just because you think he’d appreciate it. You’ve leaned your lesson based on today: Mr. Ackerman doesn’t appreciate anything or anyone. And you won’t be an exception.

~~~

Levi sulks silently in the car with his arms crossed over his chest, staring out the window while Kenny drives them to HQ. He’s replaying the interaction from earlier, recalling the hurt look in her eyes as he spat those harsh words to her. He’s an idiot. All he could have said was no thank you. He shouldn’t have berated her for doing something nice for him. At the same time, he didn’t want to appear vulnerable, like he needed her to do it for him. He doesn’t need her pity. He doesn’t need anyone to take care of him.

He catches Kenny shooting glances at him, but doesn’t say anything, knowing better than to rile his nephew up when he’s in one of these moods. They make it to headquarters as normal, and Levi goes about the day, almost forgetting about the incident. Almost.  

Around noon, Kenny drives Levi and two of his henchmen across town to collect money from a client who’s been skipping out on payments recently. Levi doesn’t expect to resort to violence, so he stays inside the car while the two muscles go out and fulfill their orders. Kenny reclines, reaching his long arm towards the backseat, retrieving a small bento box. “Grub time.”

Levi scowls. “What are you doing?”

“Eating lunch, what do you think?” He uncovers it, licking his lips as his picks up a tamago sando from inside. It looks delicious, from the soft bread to the golden yellow filling. Levi’s stomach growls as he stares at his uncle bite into it. “Damn, that’s good!”

“Where did you get that?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

He shrugs, engulfing the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. “Your housekeeper. Said you didn’t want it, so she gave it to me instead. Shit, that’s good!”

Levi huffs through his teeth, annoyed, but also very hungry. He snatches it from his uncle’s lap, inspecting it himself. Kenny doesn’t protest, only chuckles, licking his fingers. It’s truly an enticing sight, much better than the typical burger and fries he’s used to. He picks it up delicately, relishing how pillowy the bread is between his fingers. It’s devoured quickly, and Levi regrets watching his uncle eat part it, hoping he had it all for himself. In the bottom layer of the bento box are baby carrots and sliced cucumbers, which Levi munches on until his crew comes back, knuckles a bit bloodied and a stack of cash in their hands. 

At night, Levi enters the door, a pang of guilt in his chest. He doesn’t plan to mention it; he’d rather forget and move on, pretend it never even happened. Tonight’s dinner is yakisoba, a meal she has since perfected since starting a month ago. She serves it to him, pouring hot tea into his mug, then takes her usual spot, her expression neutral. She reports on each task she completed today, starting with the kitchen, where she cleans up whatever disgusting mess Kenny leaves at the table. She scrubs the counters until they’re sparkling, mops the floors, reorganizes the refrigerator, unloads the dishwasher from the night before. Next is the living room, where she vacuums the carpets, dusts all the drawers, wipes each and every appliance with a specialized solution to prevent streaks. Then It’s laundry, and she never mentions the splatters of blood that are sometimes on his dress shirts depending on what kind of day it is. She uses the exact method he uses to wash them until they look good as new, as if he isn’t part of the gang life. 

She finishes her list, looking at Levi, waiting for his nod of approval, which he gives. She’s done a decent job so far; in fact, his home looks just as tidy as it did when he spent two hours each morning doing it himself. He stares down at his plate, eating the rest of his noodles in silence.

“Mr. Ackerman?”

His jaw clenches at the sound of his name, anticipating whatever she’s about to say. Without looking up, he mutters, “What?”

She clears his throat nervously. “Earlier today, about lunch. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries. I hope you can forgive me.”

He senses her gaze on him, but he’s too embarrassed to meet it, slurping the rest of his food without responding. She doesn’t say anything else, leaving it at that. When he’s done, she gathers the dirty dishes and loads them into the dishwasher, starting the cycle. Levi goes into his room, stuffing her payment for today in an envelope, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Just say it. Don’t be an asshole. She doesn’t deserve it.

She waits for him at the doorway, coat and shoes on, ready to leave. He hands her the money, keeping his grip on it when she accepts it. “You don’t have to apologize. I ate it, and it was delicious. So…thank you.” He looks at her this time, wanting to convey to her that he truly means it. 

Her eyes widen, clearly surprised by his sudden change in demeanor. He’s surprised himself; he just couldn’t let her leave thinking she didn’t anything wrong. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “For the way I reacted. I’m not used to people doing things like that for me.” He knows she doesn’t need an explanation from him, but he tells her anyways. 

She smiles. “It’s okay. I’m happy to do it. I prepared another one for tomorrow.”

Nodding, he lets go, watching her slide the envelope into her bag. “Goodnight, Mr. Ackerman.”

He opens the door for her. “Levi. You can call me Levi. It makes me feel old when you call me that. We’re around the same age, right?”

She giggles, making his chest swell. “Right. Well then, goodnight Levi.”

He waits until she disappears into the distance, heading to the nearby train station. With the door shut, he leans against it, sighing heavily, his heart beating rapidly.

This is bad. 

~~~

On the third month of working as a housekeeper and cook for Levi Ackerman, something extraordinary happens. 

You’ve gotten more cordial with each other in the past few weeks, ever since you began making lunches for him on a regular basis. You know he isn’t picky when it comes to food, but you’ve noticed subtle differences when he thanks you for the meal, which he always does now. If it ends in a simple thanks, you know that it was ordinary. If he adds in a compliment, you know that he really likes it. So, you cook more of the foods that he particularly enjoys. 

You’re still getting used to calling him by his first name. It still sounds foreign out of your mouth, almost like a treasured word you’re only supposed to say on special occasions. You still mostly call him Mr. Ackerman, though he doesn’t seem to mind. 

Other than what you see of him in the mornings and nights, you have no idea what Levi gets up to the rest of his day. It’s an unwritten part of the deal; you keep your private life to yourselves. And, knowing he’s in the Yakuza, maybe it’s better you don’t know. 

Tonight, you finish cooking dinner before Levi comes home. You cover the pan, keeping the oyakodon you prepared warm until he arrives, all the plates set up on the counter, ready for him. You sit in your usual chair, checking the clock: 8:30 PM, thirty minutes past his usual time. By nine, you start to worry. And by ten, your finger hovers over his contact information on your phone, tempted to call him, to make sure he’s okay. You debate with yourself for several minutes if you should go through with it. You were given this number only to use for emergencies. Would this be considered one? Surely, he has an entire team of people who look after him, being the leader and all. Why would he need you, his lowly housekeeper, looking out for him?

Deep down, it’s because you care. You care about him. You want him to be happy. And it’s not because he pays you at the end of the day. It’s because you truly, genuinely believe he deserves it. Even in the short time that you’ve known him, it’s plain to see how miserable he is in this life of crime. Dead eyes, permanent frown on his face, tense muscles from having no moment throughout his day to relax. No one, not even a Yakuza leader himself, deserves to be under this much stress.  

You’re about ready to dial his number when you hear the distinct jingle of keys from the front door. Levi walks in, hunched over with his jacket tossed over his shoulder, big splotches of blood painted on his shirt. You can see it clearly even from the end of the hallway. He doesn���t greet you, doesn’t look at you, as he drags his feet into the living to plop himself onto the couch, sighing. 

“Mr. Ackerman?” you call out, trembling. You’ve never seen him like this before. Is he injured? Or is he the one who did the injuring? Does it matter to you what the answer is? All you know is that you’re concerned about him and you want to be by his side. 

~~~

Levi hears her but doesn’t respond. He sinks deeper into the couch, eyes shut, hoping she ignores him, not wanting her to see him in this sorry state. He listens to the sound of her footsteps approaching closer, then feels her sit beside him. With one eye open, he peeks at her, surprised to see her staring at him with genuine concern, a steaming mug of tea in her hands. “Mr. Ackerman,” she repeats.

“What do you want?” he asks tersely. He doesn’t mean for it to come out rudely. Or maybe he does to push her away. He doesn’t want her to witness this vulnerability, this weakness.  

“I brought you some tea,” she answers quietly.

Before he can spit out an argument about how the caffeine will prevent him from sleeping, she adds, “It’s decaf, of course.”

He’s speechless for a moment, unable to come up with a smart response. His heart beats against his chest and he’s not sure what’s happening to him. Is he going into cardiac arrest? Or is this something different? Something good? Too exhausted to maintain the same frigid persona he puts up for her, he relaxes, reaching for her hands to grab the handle of the mug. He grazes her fingers wrapped around the ceramic, lingering for a second longer, then brings it to his lips, blowing air across the surface before taking a sip. It’s hot down his throat, filling his tired body with warmth and comfort. 

He peeks at her once more, focusing on the gentle smile on her lips. “What are you so happy about?” he asks, taking another sip. 

She looks down at her lap, shy now that she’s been called out. “I’m just happy you’re back in one piece.”

He scoffs, displaying his bruised and stained knuckles. “You call this one piece?”

She stares at his hands with terror or fascination, maybe even both. Levi can’t tell. All he knows is that she isn’t flinching away from him like he’s some monster; she leans closer, inspecting it carefully. “Hold on,” she says, standing up to retreat back into the kitchen.

Levi rests his head against the couch, stomach grumbling with hunger. He hasn’t eaten since lunch, and beating the shit out of people takes a toll on him. But the job is done and now he’s home. And for the first time, he realizes how grateful he is not to be alone. 

Minutes later, she returns with a tray, carrying a steaming bowl of oyakodon and two warm towels beside it. She sets it next to him on the couch, kneeling on the floor in front of him, beside his knees. He gulps, suddenly aware at how compromising this position may seem. Though, he doesn’t mind it. He slowly reaches over to grab hold on the chopsticks, digging into the bowl of food to take a bite. It’s warm and soothing in his mouth, exactly what he needed. 

“May I?” She peers up at him, pointing to his other hand, holding the damp towel. 

He’s hesitant at first, aware that she’ll be touching him. This is definitely crossing a line, right? However, the thought of being pampered in this moment when he’s so fucking tired is too enticing to refuse. He stretches his arms out, offering his fist to her. She surrounds him in the soft fabric, rubbing gently between his knuckles, wiping away all the grime from tonight’s violence. His skin is on fire from her indirect touch and he can’t help but wonder what effect she could have on his body if she were actually touching him. 

Skin in pristine condition, despite the temporary bruises, she switches to the other hand once he’s finished with his meal. He watches her in silence, holding back a moan, embarrassed at how much he’s enjoying this. She finishes him off with the second towel, the clean one, giving both hands a little massage. “Is that better?”

He nods, muttering a tired, “Thank you.”

She smiles, gaze flickering to the stains on his shirt. “I can wash this for you tomorrow. Just leave it in the laundry room.”

He nods again, unsure what else to say. She gets up, carrying the empty bowl and soiled towels back into the kitchen to clean up. It’s almost eleven now when Levi flips his wrist to check the time on his watch. Trains stop running by midnight, so he shouldn’t keep her here any longer. “You should head home now. It’s late,” he says, loud enough for her to hear. He stands up, slightly limping towards his bedroom to give her the payment. He slides an extra couple of bills to compensate for working overtime. Noticing how horrid he looks with blood all over him, he strips out of his shirt, thankful none of it seeped directly onto his skin. Without thinking, he rushes towards the front door, where she waits for him in her coat and shoes. 

He hands her the money. “I’m giving you a small bonus today, just in case you’re wondering why there’s more in there.” 

She glances at his chiseled abs before looking down at her feet. Heat rushes into his cheeks, finally aware that he’s shirtless in front of his housekeeper. This is definitely crossing a line. 

“It’s okay, I don’t want the extra money,” she says.

“Take it. You’ve earned it,” he insists.

“I didn’t do it for that. I did it because I care about you. I want to - ” She gazes at him, swallowing hard, afraid to finish her thought. 

There’s a flutter in his stomach as he steps closer to her, eager to hear it. “What?”

“I want to take care of you, Mr. Ackerman.”

It happens so fast that as soon as he realizes it, his lips are already on hers, kissing her passionately. His immediate reaction is to stop because he’s sure this isn’t what she intended. But when she places her hands on his chest, clinging to his bare skin to deepen the kiss, he can’t resist. 

~~~

Clothes are discarded on the way to his bedroom. By the time you’re lying flat on his mattress, you’re both completely naked, him on top of you, caging you between his muscular arms. He kisses your figure, from your neck trailing down to your chest, his lips puckered at your nipple, sucking on it until it’s taut in his mouth. One hand travels along the curve of your hips, then the plush of your inner thigh, until he’s pressed to your throbbing clit. “Can I touch you here?” he asks, his voice low and trembling. 

“Yes,” you breathe out, completely enraptured by him.

He flicks your bud with his middle finger, tapping on it until it’s puffy against him. He glides down to your wet slit, collecting your arousal to smear onto your clit, rubbing it faster. Pleasure courses through you as you whine into his mouth, kissing him sloppily. Soon, he slips inside you, pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy. You squirm for him, so close to your climax.  

“You like my fingers inside this fucking cunt, huh?” he growls into your ear. He pulls out, stroking your clit with his wet digits. “How about here? You like them on your little clit too, right pretty girl?”

Your tongue lolls out of your mouth, eyes glazed over in a daze. “Yes, Mr. Ackerman. Fuck.”

“Levi,” he grunts, circling your bud. “I told you to call me Levi.” He slips back in, pummeling your pussy while his thumb taps on your swollen core. 

You grab the bedsheets beneath you, clenching it between your fists, bucking your hips towards him, approaching your orgasm. “Coming,” you manage to whimper, unraveling. He slows his pace, riding it out with you until you relax in his hold, spent and blissed out. 

There’s a wild look in his eyes, animalistic almost. He removes himself from you, bringing his wet fingers to your mouth, inching them past your lips. “Taste yourself for me.”

You obey, opening wide for him to swipe your own cum across your tongue. He sticks it further down your throat while you surround him, sucking your slick off. His erection is hard against you, begging for attention. You slide your hand between his thighs, palming at his stiff cock, twitching at your touch. 

“Fuck,” he swears under his breath. You start stroking him, his cock hot and pulsating in your fist. He bucks into your grasp, moaning as you rub your thumb over his glossy tip, making him shudder. “You’re driving me fucking crazy, fuck. Get on top of me. Please. Need to taste you.”

You obey, readjusting yourself to straddle his face, lowering yourself carefully until your pressed to his open mouth. “Just enjoy it, sweetheart. You’ve earned it,” he says before lapping you up greedily. You ride his face, dragging your pussy lips across his flattened tongue, moaning when he puckers around you, suckling on your swelling bud. He’s sloppy and noisy, exactly how you like it. You find yourself unraveling quickly above him, convinced you can come just like this, without him entering you at all. He senses this, grabbing firmly to your ass cheeks, guiding you to rock against him faster. “That’s it, princess. Come for me,” he muffles against your skin, slurping at your leaking cunt. No longer able to resist, you moan loudly, reaching your climax, gushing all over his face. He smacks your ass, licking off every drop of your arousal before removing himself from you. “I need to be inside you. Need to fuck this pretty pussy right fucking now.”

All control lost, you whine, “Fuck me, Levi. Fuck me, please.”

He positions himself behind you, dragging your bottom towards him, rubbing his erection between your ass cheeks. “Think you’ve earned this cock? Think you deserve it?”

You nod frantically. “Yes. I’ve been so good.”

He chuckles, guiding himself inside you, stretching you out slowly as he inches his way deeper. “You’re right. You’ve been very good. You are good. So fucking good to me.” He pounds into you, fucking your sweet spot, chasing that high you’re both so desperate to reach. After a few more thrusts, your pussy squeezes around him, coming once more. He follows with his own orgasm, shooting his load inside you, filling you up with his cum.

He pulls out, rolling beside you, breathing heavily. You turn to your side, facing him, your senses gradually returning. He glances at you and breaks into a smile, the first you’ve ever seen from him. “Don’t look at me like that.”

You grin, scooting closer to nuzzle your nose with his. “Like what?”

His eyes gaze into yours, flickering down your lips. “Like you want to kiss me.”

You inch closer. “Why is that so bad?”

“Because I won’t be able to stop,” he whispers, closing the gap, kissing you.

~~~

On her last day, Levi leaves her final payment on the top of his dresser. It’s next to a thicker envelope that she’s collected the entirety of her father’s debt in, ready to hand over to Kenny first thing in the morning. She could have paid it off sooner, a week sooner, to be exact. But she decides to finish the remainder of the month employed as Levi’s housekeeper. She doesn’t explain why, and he doesn’t ask. 

They snuggle together in his bed, ready to sleep after fucking each other stupid just minutes earlier. This is another added part of their routine. Sometimes, she leaves to check in on her mother back home. Other times, she stays the night, which Levi prefers, though he won’t admit it out loud. It’s the best sleep he’s gotten in years.

He can tell she’s on the verge of sleep by the way her eyes flutter closed and how her head falls into his chest, relaxed. His mind is racing with thoughts, so he’s wide awake, wondering what tomorrow will hold. Will she say goodbye to him forever? Is this really over? What will he do when she’s gone?

He realizes his true feelings for her almost immediately after they begin sleeping together. He’s never relinquished control to anyone else before. But for him, giving it to her was easy. Maybe because he knew he could trust her. Though, now with her employment coming to an end, he’s not so sure what to think.

“Levi?” Her soft voice surprises him. 

“Hey,” he whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

She tips her chin up, peering at him. “Not yet. I want to say something to you.” 

He stares at her, confused and anxious, listening. “I care about you, Levi. I don’t want this to stop just because whatever arrangement we had before is over.”

He swallows hard, trying to maintain a neutral expression as his heart races with joy. “So, what then? Do you want to keep being my housekeeper? I already feel weird paying you because of what we do.”

She giggles, shaking her head. “I don’t want to be your housekeeper. I want to be your girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Yes, Levi. Your girlfriend,” she reiterates, smiling. 

He lets out a small laugh. “That sounds so normal.”

She cups his face, squeezing his cheeks. “Well, maybe Mr. Ackerman deserves a little something normal for once.”

He chuckles, nuzzling into her touch. “So, how is this going to work, then? You being my girlfriend.”

“Well, I’ll get my old job back. And in the meantime, I can move in here so I can still do all the cooking and cleaning.”

“No,” he interjects. “Together. We’ll cook and clean together. Like a normal couple.”

She beams at him. “Alright. Together it is, then.”

He allows himself to smile completely now, pressing his forehead to hers. “Can it really be this simple?” 

“I think it can,” she replies. “It’s worth a shot, right?”

For most of his life, Levi has never had it easy. Thirty years later, he finally has a chance at something normal, something good. Does he deserve it? With her by his side, holding his hand so lovingly in hers, he actually believes it. “Yeah. You’re absolutely right.”

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi aot #levi x you #levi smut #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x female reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot x reader #aot fluff #attack on titan x reader #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

[sunshinescribes]

The House Always Wins

Part 2 of this fic

Pairing: Sir Crocodile x Fem!Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+)

Warnings: Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Rough Sex, Cunnilingus, (lowkey) Sugar Daddy Crocodile, Crocodile is smug and petty

Crocodile doesn’t know what to expect when he wanders onto the casino floor of Rain Dinners in search of you. Slot machines chime, playing a catchy little tune with each pull of the lever. Dealers grin and offer words of encouragement, coaxing big-eyed fools into another game with the sweet promise of lady luck’s favor.  

You don’t usually partake in gambling, not keen on the idea of betting away your berries when you know it’s all rigged—and why would you even need to? You never ask for anything, but Crocodile provides. Spoils you even.

He enjoys watching the way your eyes get all big, stunned by the diamond necklace he places around your neck, or the soft gasp that passes your lips when he gifts silk charmeuse and chiffon dresses, designed, and tailored just for you.

Crocodile continues to seek you out, his sharp eyes flitting between the slot machines and card tables. He ignores the curious and lingering looks targeted at him—the smartly dressed patrons who vie for his attention as he continues to search—and then he hears it.

Your laugh, loud and beautiful—music to his fucking ears. He turns.

Crocodile doesn’t expect to see you at the bar, perched on a stool, leaning into a man he doesn’t recognize. Your hand is on his slender arm, your lips pulled into a pretty smile, and laughter escapes again—so lovely and genuine and for someone else.

The man grins at you sheepishly, transfixed on your mouth. It’s so blatant—barely contained, the way he’s staring at you with a mix of adoration and lust.

You must feel Crocodile’s eyes on you because you glance over your shoulder suddenly. Your smile widens, and you exchange a quick word with the mysterious man before hopping down from your seat.

Crocodile is silent as you approach, stone-faced. You grab his arm with both hands and tilt your head towards the man, all while smiling up at him.

“I want you to meet my friend,” you say excitedly, steering him towards the bar.

Crocodile doesn’t catch the name that rolls off your tongue—he can’t seem to hear anything over the sudden ringing in his ears, so sharp it drowns out the sounds of the jingling slot machines and triumphant cheers of those foolish enough to think they’re the winners.

The fond smile that plays on the mystery man’s lip never falls, but Crocodile notices the sudden unease as the man’s eyes land on him. The imposing height, the cold, almost irritated expression he comfortably wears—the golden hook that glints under the blinding casino lights. It’s enough to strike fear in the heart of anyone smart enough to value their life.

And the man is a small thing—average in every sense of the word, Crocodile thinks. The plain clothes, the nervous, uncertain words that stumble from his mouth as he tries to introduce himself. Crocodile doesn’t feign interest—he barely even acknowledges your friend, and that only serves to add to his anxiety.

If it wasn’t for the pitiful look you shoot him, Crocodile would laugh at just how pathetic this man is.

“We both grew up in Coombe,” you explain, glancing back at the mystery man. “I never thought you’d leave the North Blue.”

He must take your surprise as a compliment because he gives you another bashful smile.

“I didn’t either. Guess I finally figured if you could do it, so could I,” he chuckles softly. “Imagine my shock when I saw you here, of all places.”

“Small world,” Crocodile chimes in dryly, drawing your friend’s attention once more.

Crocodile places a hand on your hip, drawing you a little closer to him.“She never mentions much about her home in the North Blue.”

And she never mentioned you. The insult is unspoken, so subtle that he thinks even you don’t catch it.

But it’s also true. You rarely spoke about the North Blue—of the life you had before you entered the Grand Line and ended up in Alabasta. You never mused over an island you once called home, or a lovesick, hairbrained boy you left on it, and Crocodile doesn’t pry. He isn’t particularly interested in knowing, truth be told. He only cares about the life you have now, with him.

The man goes on an excited tirade about how beautiful Coombe is this time of year, about how you used to love the new bloom after winter finally passed, and all the fun you both had in your youth. He can’t help but reminisce, tries to connect with you in the only way he’s able.

“You should visit when you can. Uh—you both should.”

You pretend to consider it, and Crocodile gives little more than an unaffected grunt.

You inquire how long he’ll be staying and recommend shops and restaurants he must visit before leaving. He shamelessly seeks more of your company—your attention—and asks if you could possibly give him a tour.

You promise to check your schedule and follow up, and he beams as if he’s won an invaluable prize. Crocodile’s irritation grows—twists and festers the longer he stands by your side, little more than an onlooker. His frustration isn’t directed at you—you’ve always been friendly, offering a smile where he would surely offer a sneer, but it doesn’t stop his grip from tightening on your hip.

You notice, finally excusing yourself. The man gives you both a soft goodbye, one that Crocodile ignores completely as he whisks you away, and he can’t help the way his lips pull into a smug grin at the quick glimpse of the dejected look on his face. It must hurt him to see you walk away in the arms of another—to know the golden opportunity he thought the world had provided him never existed at all.

“You didn’t like him.”

It’s the first thing you say when you enter Crocodile’s private suite, disappointment dripping in your voice. You weren’t foolish enough to think he would be thrilled, but you thought Crocodile would at least be amicable. 

He shrugs his coat off, placing it on the coat hanger near the door. “He was shameless.”

Your brows furrow, your lips pull into a slight frown…You don’t know? It takes Crocodile by surprise; surely you must. The man is far too obvious; his intentions are impossible to mask.

“He would have taken you right there on the bar if you had let him,” Crocodile scoffs.

You blink, dumbfounded.

“Gage?”

So that’s his name.

Your voice comes out in a high-pitched squeak, taken aback by the sudden accusation. “He doesn’t want to fuck me.”

Crocodile gives a mirthless laugh. You’re so sweet. So naïve. Always offering others the benefit of the doubt.

Crocodile recognized the hunger in his eyes—the longing. He suspects this friend of yours has harped on you for a long time, never quite brave enough to take the chance.

Not even now. By some miracle, he survived the Grand Line, and he still can’t brave his own futile emotions. Crocodile isn’t sure whether to laugh at how spineless the man is or burn with anger at how he even thinks he has any chance of having you.

The dark, ravenous part of him takes high offense.  

Crocodile comes up behind you and dwarfs you with his body as his decorated hand cradles your jaw. “’Course he does. Look at you.”

He tilts your head, forces you to face the full-length mirror on the opposite wall. You try to focus on your own reflection, but you can’t help but watch Crocodile when he dips down, pressing a tender kiss to your neck, all while his half-lidded eyes hold your gaze.

“Maybe I should invite him to our room so he can watch me fuck you,” he murmurs against your skin.

You shiver, nearly stumble out of his grasp as his lips trail higher.

“Don’t be cruel...”

Cruel? His offer would be courteous. It would be the closest your lovestruck friend would ever get to your naked form. The only way he would ever know what you sound and look like at the height of your pleasure—how perfect you are, stuffed and babbling through your orgasm.

The cruel thing would be what he truly wants to do—to use his devil fruit powers to turn the man into a withering corpse, forgotten in the endless sand dunes.

“Would you rather he joined?” Crocodile inquiries plainly.

He attempts to come off unaffected…curious, but the wicked voice in the back of his mind nags at him, hisses about feelings that could have been, and still may be.

The man matches your gentle nature, and is somewhat competent, at least to have made it this far from the North Blue. He’s the kind of man who would kneel at your feet if you asked, worship you as if it were his sole purpose—he’d give you a typical life, picturesque in its simplicity, and you would be content.

The thought makes something vicious twist in his gut. It makes time stand still as Crocodile awaits your answer.

“No.” You shake your head softly, meeting his cold eyes in the mirror. “I’ve never thought about him like…that.”

Of course not. What would you want with a sniveling worm? How could you go back to mediocrity after everything that’s been offered to you? The attention of a warlord of the sea—the savior of Alabasta. How could anyone else ever compare?

It’s pathetic how the gluttonous beast inside of Crocodile settles and hums contentedly, knowing that you only want him.

And maybe this is your power he couldn’t recognize before, why he was so unnerved in the beginning—this ability to effortlessly turn sensible men foolish. Even him.

“Only want you.” You turn, your soft eyes trained on him. “Always want you.”

Crocodile captures your lips as the words escape, and you melt into him—mold your body into his until he is all you sense. The heady scent of his sweet cigars mixes with hints of patchouli and cedar—his cologne—it lingers on his fitted clothes, drawing you deeper into his searing kiss.

You feel the bend of his golden hook press into the curve of your back, forcing you to curl into him as he parts your lips with his tongue. You’re caught in a pleasant haze, lightheaded, while Crocodile kisses you like he’s claiming your mouth, making sure that your lips never forget the feel and taste of him—that they never desire another’s.

Crocodile lifts you from the ground effortlessly with his ringed hand, still kissing you hungrily as he shifts blindly through his suite, knowing the layout well enough to stumble into his lavish bedroom. He parts from you with a low groan.

“Lay down,” he orders against your lips, and you comply, sinking into the soft mattress while he looms over you.

The ache you feel in your core blossoms—hurts so good from how desperately you want him—to be wrecked and teary-eyed and a mess for him.

You even go as far as to whine when you notice Crocodile isn’t working to free the fierce erection that strains his dress pants, eager to be lost in your warmth.

“None of that,” Crocodile tuts coyly, lowering to his knees near the foot of the bed. His large hand skims up the length of your thigh, pushing up your dress until it is bunched around your waist, and he can see the evidence of your arousal staining your thin lingerie—another gift.

That creature inside of him purrs gleefully, proud of how well he turns you into a spectacle—a gift of his own to admire and unravel again and again.

Crocodile tugs your panties down your legs, tossing it aside carelessly as his hooded eyes catch on your bare pussy, already slick and ready for him. A deep, guttural noise catches in his throat as you part your legs—eagerly welcome him where he belongs.

“I bet he wonders what you taste like…” Crocodile muses, leaning into your aching slit. A soft gasp passes your lips when you feel the heat of his mouth on your needy cunt, tending to the ache his salacious words and desperate kisses created.

There are rare moments when Crocodile takes you apart slowly, his movements languid and measured, bringing you to the height of your pleasure at an agonizing pace, only to rip it away just when you begin to tip over the edge. And then he continues the process again and again. He leaves you delirious on days like that, wasting the hours away with your body—and perhaps today would be a day such as that if he didn’t feel he had something to prove.

If the desire to plague your every thought didn’t control him like a cruel master.

Your soft whimpers turn to shameless, needy moans, light and airy but loud enough to satisfy the wicked parts of him.

“S’good,” you whine drunkenly, your hips bucking instinctively when Crocodile’s lips latch onto your neglected clit. Your fingers thread into his long hair, pull him even closer, and he groans—it makes you arch painfully as the feel of it cascades through your body and tickles your aching nub.

Each swipe of his talented tongue pushes you closer, making the heat that pools in your stomach metastasize until you’re chanting his name, so close and ready to reward him.

He squeezes your clit with his mouth, sucks your aching bud, and you’re gone—shoved over the edge as pure hot pleasure rips through you, flows from between your legs, and Crocodile laps up your sweetness like a starved man.

You glance down at him through your lashes, eyes heavy, body slowly recovering. Crocodile pulls away from your pretty pussy with a sigh, as if he’s sad to part, and the idea alone makes your core ache with newfound need.

“Always so sweet for me.”

Your release smears his chin. It makes him look depraved and delicious. If you had the energy for it, you’d lift from your spot on the bed and kiss him. Feel the taste of yourself on his tongue, but all you can do is watch him with tired eyes as he rids himself of his clothes, tosses his lavish vest and dress shirt aside haphazardly.

His pants are the last thing to go, and you watched as if caught in a spell, buzzing with anticipation as he palms his hard dick. It’s so pretty, with the tip blushing and spilling precum that glides onto his thick fingers. Crocodile smirks, amused by the enchanted look in your eyes.

“This what you want, darling?” he asks, giving his dick a rough tug that warrants a delighted hiss. You nod—nearly sob—as you continue to watch Crocodile’s hand rub up and down the length of his lovely cock. You feel so empty—the desire to be filled in a way only he’s capable of taking precedence in your mind.

“Tell me,” Crocodile encourages as he shifts to the bed, his large frame casting you in shadows as he hovers over you. That smug smile still plays at his lips and only grows crueler as he grinds his hard length against your needy cunt.

“N-need you. Fuck—need you so—so bad. Baby please—”

The request sounds pathetic, even to your own ears, but it must be exactly what Crocodile wants to hear because he sinks into you the second the term of endearment passes your lips.

A deep grunt rips from his throat and tickles your ear pleasantly as Crocodile drags his fat cock deeper into you. You’re so warm and wet and snug, your velvety walls hugging him like this is where he belongs—where he should always be.

And he’ll admit, there’s no better place than here, between your legs. No better feeling in the whole fucking world—not even the sweet giddiness that builds inside of him each passing day as the fall of the Alabasta Kingdom draws closer. Having you writhing beneath him, breathless and lovely, is incomparable—a sensation he never tires of.

“Always take me so—mmm…well,” Crocodile rasps, transfixed on how your sloppy cunt swallows him over and over and over again. It makes him fuck you harder; drive even deeper. “This pussy was made for me. You were made for me.”

And he thinks perhaps it’s the most honest thing he’s ever said to you. Uncertainty still stirs within him—dread lingers in the corner of his mind, silent and waiting, because you complicate everything. You’re the only person who can placate the ravenous creature within him, feeding its insatiable appetite without it ever growing incurious. It wants everything you have to offer—can’t conceive of feeding from anyone who isn’t you. Not anymore.

Never.

Crocodile pushes your thighs close to your chest, drives his dick even deeper as he continues to pound into you. The sound of his powerful thrusts and your tortured moans is a beautiful symphony, lovelier than the melodic sounds of the stirring sand at dawn.

You have that lost, blissed-out look in your eyes as you blink up at him, words completely evading you as he uses you.

How could your foolish friend ever even dream of having you like this? Think he could possibly do to you what Crocodile has done?

Crocodile feels equally as hopeless as you—is incapable of thinking clearly because a confession he knows he should swallow pours from his lips without warning.

“I’ll fucking kill anyone who tries to take you from me,” he growls, digging the tip of his hook into the mattress, inches away from your head.

You should be…shocked. Unnerved by such a confession. Crocodile doesn’t pretend to be a saint, but he never mutters his murderous intent. He hides behind practiced indifference; let’s others paint a glorious picture of him, never revealing his true nature. You attempt to feign shock for a split second, but you can’t help the way your pussy clenches around him and goes mad at his declaration—some depraved, feral part of you stirring to life.

And the knowledge that a part of you likes this fucked up part of him must awaken something in him, because his thrusts grow brutal, his balls slap against your ass as he fucks you into the mattress like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to. Crocodile hits deeper, the head of his throbbing dick brushing against that sweet, spongey spot inside of you, and you’re gone before you can even warn him.

You choke out something that sounds like it could be his name, tears trickling down your cheeks as you come so violently that your breath stutters. You shake through your orgasm, squirm beneath Crocodile while he fucks you through it—watching you come apart with wicked fascination and unbridled lust.

He loves how he wrecks you—how you hold onto him for dear life, as if he might slip away.

He’s ruined you, just like you’ve ruined him.

The thought alone is the final push he needs, make his dick throb violently as he explodes inside of you and fills you up the way he knows you crave—the way your perfect pussy deserves. The squelch of his seed mixing with your sweetness is enough to drive him mad. Makes him want to fuck another load into you.

Maybe in a bit, he considers as he rocks his hips sluggishly, riding out the sweet aftershock of his powerful orgasm.

You’re little more than a quivering mess under him. Your eyes are closed, your breathing is ragged…so so beautiful, and Crocodile doesn’t frighten at the tender feeling that blossoms in his chest—a sudden warmth that takes him by surprise yet seems to make all the sense in the world as he stares down at you, all while a pleasant thought crosses his twisted mind.

What’s the harm?

Why shouldn’t I revel in what’s mine?

divider credit @/cafekitsune

#sunny.fic #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x y/n #crocodile x reader #crocodile x you #sir crocodile smut #x reader

[heartlyrins]

GAMBLE FOR YOUR LIFE !

˚₊‧Desc— In which by gambling on his life, Aventurine manages to procure himself a little pet to take care of.

˚₊‧TW— smut, dubcon, slave/master, gentle noncon, face fucking, hair pulling, praise, anal, fem!reader, pet names, human trafficking, pussy eating, pussy kisses, he loves babying you, Aventurine sees himself in you so he's a total softie to you :(, spoilers for 2.0 and his backstory

˚₊‧A/N— Hey cuties!! Short lil fic before I actually write dark content for real, sorry my writing is a lil messed I'm a lil sleepy. Not really dark content since it's more like dubcon, sorry I was in the mood for praises :(. Send me requests I'm so lonely

Gambling is something many people enjoy—of course, Aventurine is one of that many people. It's not that he enjoys it, he just has some extraordinary luck as his sister once said.

Through gambling, he finds that you can attain many things. Some of the things which shouldn't even be sold—an illegal trade of sorts.

You could even trade a life.

Not his life, of course, not anymore. But a cute doozy girl from the slumps, he was once a being like you—a slave sold from places to place, but he had escaped that life.

The Kakavasha he once was is no more, instead an Aventurine is reborn. But seeing the look in your eyes reminds him of the child he once was, the child he didn't have the opportunity to memorise.

The life he left behind and hoping to forget. But he's reminded of it everytime he looks deep into your eyes.

He's grown to like you. You've gone through the same things he did, but only that you hadn't have his luck to escape earlier.

He can see that you're starting to grow him too, it was easy to get you to like him. The masters you've had must've treat you badly, so it would come to you naturally to like a kind one.

Well he does give you pats and praises when you've done even something that isn't worth noting. Like for example, picking up something from the ground and throwing it away, sleeping when he told you so, chewing with your mouth closed.

Those were the basic things natural in life, but he can't help to praise you for the simplest thing.

Even as you're just taking him into your mouth, not even bothering to suck on his cock and just taking it motionlessly in your mouth while he does all the work, he still can't help but praise you for it.

"Oh, baby—baby relax your throat." He coos as he looks down at you, holding onto your hair gently as if you were so fragile.

He starts to push his cock deeper, enabling your gag reflex as your throat attempts to push away the foreign object currently in your mouth.

He's so gentle with you that you hate it, you hate how he babies you, you hate how he's doing this without your consent and you especially hate how your body is reacting to it.

"I'm going to fuck your throat now okay?" He pushes through despite your gag reflex and grips onto your scalp almost painfully as he begins to fuck your face repeatedly.

"F-fuhck—you feel so good, so fucking good!" In a breathy moan he starts to abuse your throat faster, the only thing you could do was attempt to breathe through your nose which you were failing miserably.

You were almost kne the verge of fainting, black spots taking over your visions until he pulled out of you and came on your face, his cum dripping down your hair and eyelashes.

You start heaving on the floor, appreciating that you could at least breathe again. But you weren't even allowed that when he brings you to the bed and lays you down flat on your back gently.

You weren't used to this kind of gentleness from your previous masters, or anyone at all. He kisses your pussy through your panties before pushing them to the side and spreading your lips apart.

"Your pussy is so pretty.." He moaned out when he was met with the sight of your pink lips.

He licks a stripe up to your clit and gives a kiss on it and it gave you a moment to wonder if he was making out with your pussy.

The index of his ginger soon entered your hole as he licks at your vagina as if he was a starving man on an island.

Once he deemed you were wet enough, he positions the tip of his cock on your entrance before sliding the tip of it down to your puckered hole and you can see him smirking as he sees the fear in your eyes, desperately trying to push him away.

"N-no there.. It's dirty and dry—" you attempt to reason but he only spits down on his thumb and opens up the puckered hole slowly with his thumb.

The mere feeling of it disgusts you.

But what could you do accept take his cock in your asshole as he wanted to? And he's certainly adamant on it.

He brings his head down to your ears before whispering silently in your ear and you can feel his hot breath on your earlobe.

"Shh, it's gonna hurt if you don't relax okay? I'll do it slowly, baby." the fact that he was so relaxed about it made you wanted to push him further, but he kept you still by the hips and pushes into you as he said—slowly.

But it still hurts no matter how he does it and you squeal at the pain—you wish that he would've just pushed it all at once so the pain would be gone faster.

"You're such a good girl, you know that? My good girl. It was worth it gambling my life in that casino, just for you. I wanted you the moment I set eyes on you—" he groaned as he pushes himself further until he's at the hilt.

You push against his chest, flailing around at the pain but he just leans over to your tits and holds one boob in his hand before sucking on the other.

He reaches a finger down to your clit and starts rubbing you to get you to your climax faster which made it hurts even more, but it felt so pleasurable even if you try to resist.

"N-nuh, not there I'm sensitive!" you moan, it felt like you wanted to black out from the pain and the fact that it felt so good infuriates you.

He groans as he starts setting his pace faster, letting go of your nipple with a pop and moving onto your neck before sucking on one of the spot.

"Ahah—you're so cute.." he says when he pulls away from your neck, leaving a hickey in place.

"So adorable.. Go on, cum my little princess. Cum from me fucking your little tight asshole—" as if on command, your body reacts and came immediately.

He groans as he felt you tighten up, giving a few more thrusts before he came in you and pulls out, letting his cum drip down the sheet.

You were so glad that it was over, until he cups your chin and makes you face him.

"Oh no, baby. I've got a few more load left inside me, after all, I still haven't used your pussy yet.. You didn't think it was over, did you?" he grins when he sees your droopy face that was stained with his cum and gives you a kiss on your forehead.

The night still has a long way to go.

#tw.noncon #tw.dubcon #tw.dark content #master/slave #master/pet #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine smut #aventurine x you #aventurine noncon #star rail aventurine #yandere #yandere aventurine #yandere oc x reader #aventurine x y/n #smut #please send me requests I'm lonely #pretty bad for my first fic #not really dark content #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #tw noncon #tw dubcon

[murdockparker]

Roses and Regrets - Part 1

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Freshly out of mourning, Lady Barlow, née (Y/L/N), makes her re-debut in society. If only she could simply ignore a certain viscount...

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none. enemies to lovers!!

A/N: I didn't expect this lil requested fic to turn into such an event, let alone a multi-part story! so, you're welcome or I'm sorry?

next part

__

She was perfectly happy. 

Well, supposedly right now she wasn’t. 

Her husband, Lord Barlow, had passed away ten months ago, leaving her with an empty estate, a shiny title and more money than she knew what to do with. Lord Barlow was an old viscount, desperate for an heir and willing to do anything to get one. 

In came Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

Young, beautiful and well-bred, she was the perfect choice for any man of the ton. If only her father hadn’t a penchant for gambling. Perhaps she’d be married to a man more suited for her rather than the oaf of a dustbin she was forced to be with. She was no fool in believing in a love match for herself, rare and far between as they were, no, but she did have half a mind to imagine a kinder man as her husband. A man who perhaps cared even a little bit for her wellbeing. 

No matter. 

A dead man cannot care for her wellbeing either. 

“Lady Barlow,” a maid knocked, entering the ornate drawing room.

“Yes?” (Y/N) did not look up from her reading—the newest edition of Whistledown had just been delivered. While she herself was never one to gossip terribly, it was quite fun to keep up with the circus of the season. 

“Do you plan on attending the Danbury ball this eve?”

“I do not see the point,” she scoffed playfully, “after all, Meg, I am but a widow in mourning.”

“Perhaps her ladyship should reconsider?” Meg asked gently, placing a new pot of tea next to her lady. “I rather think it has been a socially acceptable amount of time since your husband’s passing.”

“If I am not to enjoy the perks of being a widow,” (Y/N) sighed, finally looking up at her favorite lady’s maid, “whatever is the point?”

“Perks that Viscount Barlow has graciously allowed you to use during your time of mourning—”

“The current viscount is all but twelve,” (Y/N) reminded. “He has no use for this estate in Mayfair until he himself becomes an adult, in which, I am sure he and his mother will come to make use of it. I believe if my maths are correct, that leaves me all of six years or so to use this home.”

“Forgive me my lady, but should you not be looking for a new husband, then?”

(Y/N) smiled at Meg. She enjoyed their friendship, her maid being only a handful of years older than herself, it made for a likely pair. “No one wishes to marry a widow,” she said simply, “widows are damaged goods. Every sensible man of the ton will be wanting a pretty little virgin instead.”

“My lady!”

“What?” She barked a laugh. “You know it to be true.”

“Regardless,” Meg said, clearing her throat. “Lord Barlow passed nearly a year ago, the period of mourning is rightfully over. You are expected to rejoin society.”

“Dreadful.”

“It is expected,” Meg repeated.

“It does not make it any less dreadful,” (Y/N) said. “Very well. Pull a dress and prepare a bath, it seems the ton gets to see my dreary face once again.”

—

Anthony Bridgerton was a man scorned. 

Particularly by his own mother in this very instance. How foolish he had been to share his intentions of marriage this season with her—for now she spread the news like a wildfire. Every desperate mama and her equally desperate daughter came flocking to him like bees to honey. 

It was only now, in the dark corner of the ballroom, that he found a respite.

“Looking a bit green, Lord Bridgerton,” a voice beside him called out. 

“I am not—” Anthony had huffed a reply before even knowing whom he was speaking to. “Lady Barlow.”

“I am shocked you can recall my name,” (Y/N) laughed over her champagne flute. “Considering how many new ones you’ve had thrown at you this eve.”

“You are out of mourning.”

“Is that a question?”

“It was an observation,” Anthony corrected.

“What gave it away? My bright dress? No tear stains left on my cheeks?”

“You are here, out and about,” Anthony said. “And, forgive me for not playing along with your delusions, but I do not think you cried much at all for Lord Barlow’s passing.”

“How dare you assume such a thing,” (Y/N) faux gasped. She had intended on pressing a hand to her chest. Intended, anyway. Somehow she forgot all about the champagne currently residing it her grasp. “Damn… this was a new dress too.”

“Good God,” he laughed. “First you are spilling all over yourself like a child and now you are cursing—tell me, do all married ladies act like you?”

“I am a widow,” (Y/N) had found a cloth and begun dabbing up the spill. It had only dribbled at most, but still, it was a new dress. “I rather think I can act the way I please.”

“Like a drunkard?”

“Like a free woman,” she said, fighting every childish urge to stick her tongue out at the viscount. “I am only here to show my face, prove I am still alive and I shall go about my merry way.”

“Lady Danbury is a widow,” Anthony noted. “Yet she still mingles with society.”

“I am not Lady Danbury.”

“You are not.”

“Do you not have young misses to go and woo?” (Y/N)’s eyes hardened. “Take your pick from the litter, Lord Bridgerton, any of them would be pleased to spend such valuable time with you.”

“Are you insinuating you are not?”

“I rather thought it was a statement, yes,” (Y/N) said.

Anthony’s eyes went only a fraction wider, nostrils flaring. “Well, if that is what you wish—”

“It is not a mean of wishing,” she laughed, “but really a necessity.”

“Good evening, Lady Barlow,” Anthony sneered, smoke practically coming out of his ears. If (Y/N) had half a mind she’d call for the authorities to put that fire out, instead, she simply finished her drink and smiled wistfully at the dancing ballroom, feeling fulfilled. 

—

Dearest Gentle Reader,

The season is in full swing thanks to the mark of Lady Agatha Danbury’s ball, a notable and traditional first event of the London scene. Eligible young ladies now on the Marriage Mart were enjoying their first taste at what fine society has to offer, however taxing or daunting it may be. 

Our resident Capital ‘R’ Rake, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton is finally deciding on a wife, surely making him the finest catch of the season. Matchmaking mamas and their young ladies alike were seen flocking to him like petulant children asking their parents for pin money, thanks to his own mother, Lady Bridgerton’s declaration of such an idea last night. The viscount seemingly had enough of the attention, taking like a wallflower and hiding away in the back of the ballroom near the end of the evening. 

His company? None other than Lady Barlow, evidently out of mourning as of last night. While the this Author is under good authority that the match between Lady Barlow and the late Lord Barlow was not a love match, given their fourty or fifty year age difference, it has taken the new dowager viscountess longer than most anticipated for her to get back into the season. A woman as young as Lady Barlow would be eager to find another husband to support her, but something tells me that she is quite enjoying her time as a widow and will not easily give that up. 

While this Author has very little idea of the actual nature of the relationship between Lord Bridgerton and Lady Barlow, it is only to be assumed that it is simply not a favorable one. The two were seen making a scene by the refreshment table, a scene that went unnoticed by many prying eyes of the ton, leaving Lord Bridgerton storming away and Lady Barlow with the winning hand. 

Good show, Lady Barlow. 

Lady Whistledown Society Papers

—

“Brother! You are in Whistledown!” Eloise sang to no one in particular. 

“I have no care that I am in that gossip rag,” Anthony ground out, rustling his newspaper. “I can only imagine it is just another advertisement of my search for a wife this season.”

“Er, yes, however—”

“However?” Anthony’s attention immediately shot up to his sister, newspaper be damned. 

“Who is Lady Barlow?” Eloise asked. 

“No one of importance,” Anthony could feel his temperature rising. 

“Lady Barlow?” Benedict laughed. “Is that who you were talking to last night dear Brother? Is she not still in mourning?”

“No.”

“No it is not who you were talking to, or no she is not still in mourning?” Benedict gave his brother an amusing glance.

“Oh, according to Whistledown—”

“Sister—”

“Eloise, you may not recall Lady Barlow, given you only just came out this season,” Benedict began, deciding that this conversation was very much worth his time this morning. “But she used to go by Miss (Y/L/N) before her marriage to the late viscount.”

“(Y/L/N)…” Eloise looked to the ceiling, finding nothing in particular. “Oh! Is she not the woman who—”

“I am taking my leave,” Anthony said abruptly, newspaper all but forgotten. 

“Escaping, Brother?” Benedict asked. 

“I have calls to make,” Anthony sneered, ignoring the pleased face his brother was making. “Excuse me.”

“It seems Lady Barlow is a touchy subject,” Eloise noted as her eldest brother left the drawing room. Benedict snorted. “What?”

“You do not even know the half of it, dear Sister.”

Anthony Bridgerton, did not in fact, have any calls to make. He had no impressionable interactions last night to warrant such a visit to anyone—the Queen was still in need of naming her diamond, after all—but he had no desire to stay and be berated by his family this morning. He truly had no plan, no thought in his head on where he was going, he just simply was. 

Apparently he was going to the park.

It was still early in the day, few people graced the park at such an hour. The few who did, however, were too busy reading the latest Whistledown to even notice him. Anthony saw a handful of post boys running opposite of his direction on his way here, it was only natural they scoped out this location. He knew it was going to be a problem the minute they finished reading—if Lady Whistledown truly wrote about him, which he had no reason to believe his sister was lying about, all eyes would be on him.

“Might as well enjoy the peace and quiet for now,” Anthony exhaled. He took a quick glance at his watch—half past eight. Hardly could he recall a time he took a turn about the park on his own, usually he was in the company of his family or holed away in his study worrying about expenses and the like, never did he take a moment to actually enjoy the grand weather such as the kind today. Determined to enjoy it, he sat down on a favorable bench and watched the birds swim across the pond.

“Unbelievable.”

He turned his head, only to find Lady Barlow dressed in a rather pleasantly pink dress and matching hat, a look of distaste on her face.

“I didn’t take you as the park-going type, Lord Bridgerton,” she nodded, folding her hands. She had been carrying a small red book in one of them. “Especially at such an early hour, too.”

“Lady Barlow,” he nearly sneered. “Can a man not enjoy the park?”

“Oh surely a man can,” (Y/N) agreed. “But you? You are no man.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It seems to me that you’re sitting in my spot,” she ignored his quip, readjusting her stance in annoyance. “This is where I come to read.”

“Can you not read elsewhere?” Anthony asked. “There is an entire park at your disposal.”

“No,” she hummed. “Afraid not.”

“No?” He laughed. “Surely out of the entire park you can find a suitable spot to read your—let me guess—romantically inclined fodder?”

“Poetry,” she corrected, “and no, I cannot simply read elsewhere. The shade is just right under this tree and I rather like overlooking the pond between my chapters.”

“Shame I got here first, then,” Anthony clicked.

“You…!” (Y/N) scoffed, fighting every urge in her body to stomp her foot. “You are an impossible man, surely you know that?”

“I thought you said I was no man?” Anthony’s brow quirked. “Or perhaps I misheard?”

She scowled. “You are not amusing.”

“On the contrary,” Anthony leaned back on the bench, stretching his arms and taking his claim. “I find myself very amusing.”

A duck quacked from the pond, either laughing at the viscount or agreeing with him—it was hard to tell. 

“You leave me no choice,” (Y/N) said sternly, taking a seat on the other end of the bench—feeling worlds apart from the man on the far side. In actuality, it couldn’t have been more than two feet, three at most.

“Truly?” Anthony laughed humorlessly. “You cannot be serious.”

“Hush,” (Y/N) said, opening her book in earnest. “I am trying to read.”

While there had been no guns drawn, this was a duel, in every sense of the word. Both parties sitting still as statues, Anthony’s gaze trained on the pond, (Y/N)’s on her book. Occasionally, she’d flip her page to the next, huffing every time Anthony still did not get up and move on. 

Stubborn. Both of them.

“Will you be quiet?” Anthony said, growing exasperated. “I cannot think when you are breathing so loud—” 

“You wish for me not to breathe?” She shut her book. “I never anticipated you’d wish me dead—”

“Please,” Anthony said. “You know that is not what I mean at all.”

“I never know with you. You, Anthony Bridgerton, are an enigma and I hope I never have the pleasure of truly understanding you,” (Y/N) said, fingers whiting from her grip on her book.

“So you admit it would be pleasurable?”

She wanted to wipe that grin off of his face, how, she was unsure. Idly, she thought about how a good smack to his cheek would feel. Painful in the moment but oh-so wonderful after, cathartic, probably. “I am not getting up.”

“Neither am I.”

“I am willing to die on this bench,” (Y/N) spat.

“Funnily enough,” Anthony’s voice dropped, “so am I.”

“How are you to find your viscountess on this bench?” She asked, angling her body towards the torturous man. “Surely you do not expect her to just walk past?”

“I am sure I can manage,” Anthony said calmly. “Many young ladies will walk this way when they see me sitting here."

“Even with another woman sitting beside you?”

“I rather think they’ll find you easy to ignore, I know I do.”

“Ha! You are truly something else, Lord Bridgerton,” (Y/N) sat straighter. “Insulting a polite woman in public?”

“You are the furthest thing from polite,” Anthony leaned in. “Rude, ostentatious, quite full of herself—”

“Might I offer you a mirror?” The grip on her book tightened, cover bending from the force. “Or are you afraid you’ll see horns?”

“Oh, do they match yours?” He nearly sang. 

“Funny,” she clicked, finally setting her book down, lacing her fingers together in her lap. “You should run a comedy act at the circus, seeing as you are a right clown.”

Anthony stood up, whether by the force of his breath or sheer spite he will never know. “You are the most ridiculous woman I have ever met.”

(Y/N) met his height, now standing as well. “And you are the most irritating man I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

“I am going to walk this way,” Anthony said, forcefully pointing to his right, eyes not leaving hers. She did have the most remarkable eyes.

“And I will walk this way,” she pointed to her left, less force in her action but seething all the same. “Have the day you deserve, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Why you little…!”

She had already turned and stomped away, a fuming smudge of pink against the greenery of the park, growing further away with every step.

“What a wretched woman,” he mumbled, looking down at his watch again—nine on-the-dot. In the corner of his eye, something bright red caught his attention. Her book. She had left it behind.

Perhaps he would burn it.

Perhaps he would just put it in his pocket and carry about his day.

In the pocket it went. For now.

#anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #enemies to lovers #multi-part fic #reader insert #whoops i didn't expect this request to turn into a multiple part thing but here we are #unsure of how many parts but probably no more than 4-5? #idk