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strang3lov3 · 27 days

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Raise

Roman Roy x f!reader (6.1k)

Summary - Roman will increase your raise substantially, so long as you don't lose his game.

Tags - 18+ smut mdni, harassment, manipulation, coercion, dubcon, blowjobs, fingering, oral, brief ass eating and play, unprotected piv, rough sex, creampie, reader has a bush but is otherwise not described, roman is dominant because i like him that way, reader has a sick cat.

A/N - hello Roman readers!! it's been a while, but I hope to write a little more of him for you this summer. Thank you for being patient with me and for all of the love and support on Invisible Line . Enjoy the smut my friends

Graciously edited by my love @noxturnalpascal <3

You’re sitting at Roman’s desk, staring at the back of his monitor, counting the number of pens in his cup. You wonder how much he actually writes with them, if he has a favorite and which one it could be. Roman’s making you wait on him, just because he can. He likes to watch you squirm. He’s got an analog clock on the wall that ticks loudly, something he probably hand picked himself. Obnoxious, just like him.

It’s been about a year of you working at Waystar, a year of putting up with Roman’s antics. It started with some light hazing, as others called it. Roman would humiliate you in meetings, going out of his way to make your day worse. He’d stick a leg out in the aisle of his jet to trip your feet, scuff your pretty heels you worked so hard saving up for. Most bullies get a rise out of their victim’s reaction, but Roman always seemed equally amused by your lack of one. He was relentless, and his tormenting only escalated as time went on. Pinching your ass cheek in a crowded elevator, groping you on the jet, whispering vulgar things in your ear. Roman, ever the walking sexual harassment lawsuit, but nothing you can’t handle. He seems to know this too.

He’s harmless, after all. Gossip is rich at Waystar Royco, especially when it comes to the family. Kendall went on another bender, Logan’s pissing in closets and losing it, Roman can’t get it up - scared of pussy, always has been, always will be. You’d heard it all before, so you know that all of his touching, inappropriate sexual remarks, they’re just a façade. But yet, you’re not immune to the anxiety he invokes within you. Your heart pounds when Roman enters the room, pounds harder when he locks the door behind him. You feel the pulse between your thighs.

Roman takes a seat across from you at his desk, papers in hand, and taps the edge of them on the wood to line them up. Your legs are crossed, you’re wiggling your ankle. Anxious tic. “Are you nervous?” he asks. “You don’t have to be. It’s just me and you, you and me. Nothing to be nervous about.”

“I know,” you reply quietly.

“Cool. So I’m gonna start us off. You’ve been here for uhhh….” Roman hums, thinking, “Little over a year now, so congratulations are in order. So congrats,” he says, motioning to you with the papers in his hand.

“Thank you,” you say.

Roman continues, “It’s been nice having you here, for a number of reasons. Number of reasons,” he smirks, his voice a little lower. You shift uncomfortably in your seat when he glances at you through his eyebrows, still mostly looking down at his papers. “I like having you here, a lot. I do,” Roman says. He’s throwing you off though, and you know he’s trying to make you second guess yourself, walk on eggshells around him. And it works. “It’s just…I don’t know. Not that impressed with your performance lately.”

“Okay…Why, exactly?”

“You tell me.”

Roman’s good at what he’s doing. He knows exactly the kind of inflection in his tone he needs to take to really get under your skin, make you pick at your nails a little more urgently, tug at that loose string in your skirt until it breaks. Roman likes you - really, he does. You’re quiet, you do as you’re told, you’re maybe a little meek for his taste, but there’s worse things than that. He had a conversation with you recently on the plane and got to know you a little better.

During the flight he’d noticed the cat photo on your phone’s lock screen and asked about it. “Who’s this?”

“Artie,” you replied. “He’s my baby. He’s a sick old man, but he’s my baby.”

“Sick? How sick?”

You shrugged, not really wanting to get into it entirely. It’s difficult to think about. “He’s getting uncomfortable. He’s got a few years left in him, I think, but he’s got some stuff going on. I take him in for these treatments every two weeks, and they’re getting too expensive. And he’s got teeth issues, so he’s in pain. And just - none of it’s affordable, so I’m considering…I don’t know. You know.”

Roman nodded sympathetically, then asked what vet’s office you take Artie to. You stifled your laugh when he told you that he always considered himself a cat person. Roman, a cat person. It’s hard to think of him as an actual human at times, bizarre to think of him as a human that could identify with any sort of animal. If anything, you would have guessed he’d associate with a snake. Bearded dragon, maybe. You don’t know.

“Seriously, I love ‘em,” he explained, “Dogs are just so in your face, you know? I don’t know. They’re fine, I guess. One of god’s creatures. I’ve just always liked cats.”

“Didn’t know that,” you replied with a small smile.

“You do now,” he said. He was a little too close for comfort, sitting next to you bicep to bicep, thigh to thigh. Roman whispered, “I can help you, if you ask for it.”

“Ask for what?”

“You know. You’ve got an anniversary coming up, yeah? Usually means a raise. What do you think, would five percent be enough? Take care of your kitty cat and a little extra for you?” Your eyes lit up at that and you nodded excitedly. “I need you to ask.”

“Can I have…” Nervous it might be a trap, you trail off, but Roman raised his eyebrows and nodded, encouraged to go on. It felt less like a trap than normal, though. “Five percent?”

“Oh, it’d be my pleasure. We’ll have a performance meeting here soon, we’ll bang it all out,” Roman squeezes your thigh a couple of times, you don’t even jump like you usually do when he touches you and flirts. “Yeah?”

You tell me.

You’re caught off guard, zero clue what Roman could be referring to. “I don’t - you - what did I do?” your voice comes out shakier, more defensive than you intended.

“Hey, relax. Just you and me, like I said. It’ll be fine.” Roman waits for you to reply, but you’re silent. “It’s not a big deal, really, and it’s fixable. You know, with discipline and all that. I’ve just noticed you’ve got quite the habit of sneaking off to the supply closet? Hours at a time, sometimes, and always when I need you most. What is it you’re doing in there?”

Still silent. Moreso now, as if that’s even possible, because you know exactly what Roman’s talking about. You wonder how much he knows, if he’s heard or - god forbid - seen anything. You’re not going to talk about it.

“That’s fine,” Roman says, “Don’t tell me. Anyway, I see here you’re asking for a five percent raise, the best I can do is one and a half. Insulting, I know, but - well - you know, keep up the hard work. I’m sure you’ll get there.”

“But the plane,” you argue, “Roman, you told me to ask for five.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not - ugh -” he groans then, an exaggerated groan, like he’s really trying to sell it. You shouldn’t have trusted him on the plane, you should’ve known he’d fuck you. He always fucks you, he fucks everyone. “I’m not happy about this either. I think you deserve your five percent. Fuck it, I think you deserve ten. But my hands are tied.”

“But they’re not, Roman, you said–”

“I know what I said, but I told you: you’re dropping the ball, and I just don’t feel that you deserve that five percent anymore. Don’t think it’s representative of the kind of work you’ve been doing here.”

Roman stares at you from across his desk, putting on his own pouty face to mock yours. You feel disappointed, both in him and in yourself. Dejected. It’s your own fault, for two reasons: A, trusting Roman to throw you a bone and B, getting called out for the closet thing. He stands up, tapping fingers on his desk as he rounds it to sit in the chair next to you and puts a hand on your thigh, always with the hand on your thigh. You’re almost used to it. He says, “You’re upset. I know. I’m sorry. But some raise is better than no raise, right?” with a squeeze to your flesh.

“Yeah. I guess. Was just excited, you and I…we talked about this,” you whisper. Poor Artie. You had told him excitedly that he’s gonna start having good days again. Good thing cats don’t speak English.

“I know. I don’t - yeah, I don’t know. That was before though, wasn’t it? Maybe if you tell me what you’ve been doing in that supply closet I’ll wiggle a bit.” Roman looks at you quietly, a sly smirk on his lips, still drumming his fingers against the top of his desk as he allows you time to explain yourself. When the silence hangs long enough, he decides to switch gears. He bends down and lifts your leg up onto his lap, escalating those touches of his again. “Nice heels. I like these on you,” he says.

“Thank you,” you mumble cautiously. Is that it? Is the meeting over? He brought you in here just to tell you that your raise might as well be nothing at all, and then what? He’s turning your foot in his hand, now, and you’re tensing up with his touch.

“Sure.” Roman says. He doesn’t ask permission when he pulls the shoe off, exposing your foot - he’d never ask permission. With his pointer finger, he traces your skin, starting at your heel, tracing up, up, he watches your toes curl as he follows the curve of each one. He tells you he likes the way your toes are pedicured.

“Roman,” you protest, trying to pull your foot from his grip. Roman ignores you and squeezes your ankle tightly with his other hand as he continues to touch your skin.

“You’re ticklish,” he says, now tracing the length of the bottom of your foot. You’re wiggling and fighting not to kick him but you do, accidentally. You kick harder than you expected, certainly harder than Roman expected as well. This much is evident when he lets out a surprised noise, a groan of pain, and chuckles at that. “Alright, alright, don’t hurt me. I’ll stop.”

Stop tickling you, maybe. But he’s not done touching you, oh not at all. He pulls on your other leg and brings it to his lap, rolls your chair until it’s as close as can be, flush with his legs. He sits your feet on top of the arm rests of his chair and his hands are traveling up your legs now, fingers skating over your kneecaps and you jolt again, one of your shins hit the hardwood of his desk and you suck a sharp breath through your teeth. “You’re ticklish here, too?” Roman asks, circling your knee with his middle and forefingers. His question is answered when you squirm and shimmy in your seat, reaching to pry his hands away as you bite down on your lip to hide the smile that betrays you. “Wow. Sensitive, very sensitive. Are you sensitive everywhere?”

One of his hands is climbing up your thigh now, his fingertips hidden beneath the fabric of your skirt. You look over her shoulder, then hear the click of Roman hitting a button on his remote. Shades descend down the vast planes of his indoor windows, concealing you and Roman in privacy.

Not that there’s many people in the office, anyway. Your stomach drops and your heart pounds loudly, loud enough that Roman might hear if it weren’t for your heavy breathing, made up of fear, arousal, anticipation. You face Roman again and the sun is setting behind him, there’s not much light on his face and he looks almost like a movie in black and white. Fuck, he’s so sexy like this, sleeves rolled up and his small, crooked smirk. He’s gorgeous, with his longish strands of dark hair, his eyes that flicker between colors of hazel and green, now darkened nearly black. He taps you, “Hey, you. I asked you something.”

“Y-yeah, I’m ticklish,” you stutter.

“Well duh, I know you’re ticklish, look–” Roman reaches behind himself to tickle your foot again, and he catches your ankle when you try to kick him away. Your foot goes right back where he wants it. “I asked if you’re sensitive. Sensitive like, what’re you gonna do if my hand goes up your skirt?”

“Roman, what are you–”

“Nothing you don’t want me to do.” he interrupts. Roman continues, “Maybe my hands aren’t as tied as we thought. I could get you that ten percent, if you’d let me.”

With one hand drawing lazy patterns on your bare thigh, the other is unbuckling his belt, the sound is unmistakable. He’s palming his bulge through his Calvin Klein briefs, groaning as he does so. Then he pulls his cock out, where it springs up against his tummy. You must look shocked or scared by this, because Roman tells you to relax. “I’m not doing anything. You don’t have to suck me off, I don’t even have to fuck you. I probably will, though. It’s easy.”

“What’s easy?”

“What I’m gonna do to you,” he says plainly. He continues, “If you let me have my way with you, toy with you for as long as I’d like, however I like, I’ll get you your ten percent. Promise. I know it’s like, super off the books, but…more fun this way, I think. And you’d agree too, wouldn’t you?”

“Roman, we’re gonna…we’re gonna get in trouble, Roman,” you caution.

“But you don’t disagree, though.”

“We’re going to get in trouble,” you repeat.

“Only if you tattle. And you’re not gonna tattle on me, are you? ‘Cause that would be stupid. You know what’d happen - they’d ask if I harassed you, and you’d say yes, of course, because you know I love to. They’d ask you how long it’s been going on for, da da da. You know. But then–” Roman pushes your knees apart, opening you up wide for him and your skirt bunches up at the top of your thighs, “I’ll tell them how you spread your legs for me, how you moaned for me - ‘cause you will. Oh, I’ll make you. And I’ll tell them how you wanted it this way. Always wanted it this way, didn’t you?” he asks. “You can be honest.”

Your body will do nothing if not betray you. You nod, because you’ve fantasized about this. Oh, you’ve fantasized about all of this, about Roman. And they’re never normal fantasies, always the dirtiest and most shameful. Roman fucking you against a window he masturbates on, people below could watch if they wanted. Roman hitting you, hurting you. Teasing you. Making you cry, then kissing away your tears. You’ll squeeze your legs together on the plane when you think of these things, often sitting across from Roman or right next to him. Slip away when you need relief, desperately dance your fingers around your clit. Roman always watches you after you emerge from your hiding place, like he knows, like he can smell it on you.“Yeah, I know. This’ll be fun then. Lotta fun.”

Roman brings one of your feet to his lips and kisses it, kisses up your ankle and your leg, his stubble brushing and scratching against your skin. Remembering his rule, that he’ll do as he pleases and that you just have to take it, you ask him, “What are you, oh fuck–” you gasp and moan when he sucks on a spot near your inner knee, an area you didn’t even know could feel that way. “What are you gonna do to me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he taunts. He kisses your other leg, swirling his tongue in circles on your skin. “Whatever I want, that’s what I’m gonna do to you. Does that answer your question?”

Roman bends forward, wriggles his hands beneath your skirt and paws at your hips until he hooks his fingers into the fabric of your panties, then pulls them down and off your legs. He admires his work, seeing as they’re already slick with your arousal. “Wet for me already,” he comments, sniffing your panties before tucking them away. You’re embarrassed by that, heat creeps up your neck and paints your cheeks. Roman continues, “But yeah, I don’t know, though, to answer your question. What do you think I’m gonna do to you?”

“Touch me,” you breathe. You’re not sure if it’s an answer to his question or a demand. Roman smiles at your desperation.

“Well yeah, of course I’m gonna touch you. I’ll touch you more than I touch myself, and you know that’s a lot. You should probably be scared.”

Roman inches closer, placing one of his hands on top of the back of your chair, caging you in. He has such a way of making you feel so small. A hand sneaks between your thighs, where he first toys with your tuft of curls, dampened by your arousal. “How nice. You shaved for me.”

He dips his fingers between your lips, dragging them through your slickened folds. You’re sighing, your head falling back against your chair as you finally feel him where you’ve been needing him most. You’re so wet, he notices, parting your flesh. Wet enough that as he touches you lightly, just teasing, your cunt makes sticky, lewd noises for him. He dips a finger inside you, circles your clit with his thumb to see what he’s working with. He wants to know how easily you moan, how he can make you whimper. He wants to find out just how sensitive you are really. You’re loud, despite your fighting to keep quiet. Roman hushes you, “Shhhh. Are you always this loud? Or is it just for me?”

You’re already close and he knows this by the way your clit twitches under his thumb, how your cunt is beginning to pulse and squeeze his knuckles. “Just for me,” he mumbles under his breath. He clears his throat before speaking, “One - one little caveat though, sweetheart, and I think you’ll wanna listen.”

“I’m listening,” you rasp. Roman’s movements never falter, but you’re not even conscious of the way you’re frantically holding his wrist. Don’t stop, don’t stop.

“If you come, you’re not getting a raise.”

You lift your head to look at Roman. “What?”

“What?” He mocks you. “Yeah,” he says, “Double or nothing. I’ll double your ask if you’re good and if you don’t come. Or - er…I mean, you’re getting one and a half percent, and a jump to ten would be…” Roman does the math in his head, “Like, six point six repeating. So technically, sextuple or nothing but fucking…whatever. Isn’t that fitting, sextuple?”

“Roman–”

“You come on my fingers, tongue, cock and you get…nothing at all. It’s a game, it’s a fun game. Fun for me, at least.”

Roman continues to tease you. You stare at him for a moment, when the eye contact becomes too intense you drop your eyes to your lap, staring at the fabric of your skirt that dances with his movements.

“Look–” he says, “You can tap out if you want. Take your one and a half percent and be on your way. You know I’m not gonna force you to do anything.”

Roman changes the angle a bit, curls his fingers until he finds that spot that makes you gasp and shudder. He hums in amusement as you squirm and bite back a moan. “Roman, I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” you pant, “I need a second, Roman.”

Roman stops, to your surprise. You didn’t really expect him to. “Works out, actually, because I need a moment to think about what I’m gonna do to you. On your knees for me, sweetheart, come on,” He reaches to help you move, your slick on his fingertips now on your legs. Once you’re on your knees for him, just how he wanted. He pumps his cock a couple of times and reaches with his free hand to take you by the chin, guiding you to where he wants you. “There you go - good girl. Good girl.”

He keeps a hand on your head, urging you lower until the tip of his cock breaches your lips. You swirl your tongue around the head a couple of times to tease him, but Roman doesn’t have it. “Nuh-uh, cut that out. No teasing, down you go,” he says, pushing your head down on his cock. “Down. Hand goes here,” Roman reaches for one of your hands and spits in it before guiding it to the base of his cock where he wraps his fingers around yours. He twists your hand for you as he keeps a firm pressure on your scalp, encouraging you to take him deep. You whimper and sputter on his cock, it’s too much yet. He’s thick and long, filling your mouth entirely. “Can’t, Roman, it’s too much,” you whine.

“Oh, come on. Yes you can,” Roman pushes himself into your mouth once more, controlling the pace to his liking though it’s still too much for you and he knows it, he can feel it when he bucks his hips, cock hitting the back of your throat and you gag. “I think you’ll get used to it.”

But you don’t. Roman fucks himself deep into your mouth and your eyes prick with tears, your jaw is so sore already. You wonder if he’s even thinking about what he’s gonna do to you, like he said he would. He doesn’t appear to be, not with the way his eyes are rolling back and his brows are furrowed together as he moans softly. He squeezes your hand, reminding you to put it to use. “Look at you,” he says, holding the side of your face and skating his thumb over your cheekbone, you’d almost call it tender. “God, you’re good at this. I think you’re made for this, don’t you?” You bob your head, trace your tongue along the veins of his shaft and Roman answers his own question, “You are.”

Your jaw is still sore with the newness of it all, but you’re finally about used to the feeling when Roman pulls you off of his cock. His eyes are bright and excited, he wears a mischievous smirk as he pulls on your swollen, wet lips with his thumb. Roman takes your hands and pulls you to your feet at the same time as he stands up from his chair, he leads you to his couch and sits you on the armrest as he unbuttons your shirt, unhooks your bra. He holds your torso in both of his hands, breathing heavily as they travel up, up, where he cups your breasts, teasing your nipples with his fingers. Pinching and rolling one, flicking the other. “You are sensitive, aren’t you? I bet I could make you come like this. Maybe I’ll try.”

“Roman, please don’t.”

Roman tilts his head in amusement. “Really not your call, but I won’t, sweetheart. Maybe next time. Open your mouth for me.”

“Rome–”

Roman reaches into his pocket and pulls out your worn panties. He stuffs them in your mouth, the cotton is rough on your tongue but you can still taste your own arousal. “I guess you’re not always so quiet, huh? Didn’t know you could make so much noise. Just had to wiggle it out of you. I’ll keep it in mind,” he comments, loosening his necktie now. Once loosened, he turns you around and presses a kiss to the blade of your shoulder. “This–” he says, tying the silk around your wrists, “Is so you can’t cheat and push me away. You are going to lie here and you are going to take what I give you, and you’re playing by the rules. No coming, I mean - not unless you wanna lose your raise. It is all up to you, my darling.” Roman pushes you down then, your face in the cushions of the couch as he pulls your hips back, putting you right where he wants you. “And don’t try lying to me, either, telling me you didn’t come. I’ll know. I know the noises you make, and I’ve watched you come. You’re very obvious.”

You let out a muffled noise of surprise at that. Roman chuckles.

“Yeah, I was waiting to see if you’d fess up to what you do on your little supply runs. Been getting off to it actually, you know? Cameras everywhere. You put on a nice little show for me.”

Well, fuck. Cat’s out of the bag. Has been actually, if Roman’s telling the truth, and you know he is.

“Yeah, no. It was odd. It was last week, and you were in my office doing whatever it is that you do. And then I came in all sweaty from my workout, I don’t know. You gave me this sort of deer in the headlights look and ran off, something about needing new Sharpies. And I just found it odd for just a…just a couple of reasons, you know? Like one, I like Sharpies, those slutty little pens. So I keep them around, and two, you have an iPad. You don’t use Sharpies.” Roman finds the zipper on the side of your skirt, pulls it down slowly before pulling the skirt off of you entirely, tossing it behind him. You’re bare for him now, all exposed and your arms tied tightly behind you. “So I mosey on down to security, and I’m just curious. Naturally, of course. I take a seat and I flip through the channels until I find you in your closet and sure as shit, you’re fucking yourself. And those cameras have mics too, so I hear everything. Roman, oh Roman,” he mocks. “That was my favorite part. All pathetic and desperate for me, music to my ears. I must really do it for you, don’t I? When I’m all sweaty and gross. You’re a freak, huh? My favorite little pornstar, and you didn’t even know it.”

You feel him move behind you, anticipating the feeling of his cock breaching your entrance. But the feeling never comes. Instead, you hear the small crack of his joints as Roman kneels behind you. You let out a muffled gasp when you finally feel him touch you, his big hands squeezing your ass cheeks before he spreads you apart, spitting on your hole. How vulnerable you must feel, Roman wonders. He wonders how much you trust him, if at all. Now you’re gonna have to.

You first feel his tongue circling your tight hole, then he presses a few kisses there, all wet and sloppy. He dips his tongue inside you and you squirm a bit at the unfamiliar sensation. It’s different and unexpected, especially coming from Roman.

He pulls away from you momentarily, “I know. I promise I’ll get you off soon,” and you feel him smirking against you before swirling his tongue one last time around your hole, and then his lips travel lower. He’s kissing at your slick folds now, dipping his tongue inside your wet heat as he inhales you, your sweet arousal. He traces you with his tongue, just for fun, just for a moment before finding your clit, sucking and licking at the sensitive bud.

He doesn’t eat you the way he should. He doesn’t savor you, there’s no love in it. Passion, determination, sure - but no love. His tongue and lips on your clit is not something he’s doing for you, it’s something he’s doing to you, for his own amusement. It’s all aggression, all fingernails cutting into your skin under his bruising grip, a relentless assault on your sex. His scruff scratches your inner thighs and rubs you raw, you’ll be feeling him for days after, skin burning under the lather of your lavender scented soap in the shower. And worst of all, you fucking love it. There’s nothing you can do about it, and you fucking love it. Even in your fantasies, all those midday supply closet visits, you always knew it’d be like this. No tenderness or adoration, not from broken Roman and certainly not like this. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You’re moaning something but you don’t know what, not with your own panties shoved down your throat. Roman thinks it’s his name, he thinks he can hear the two syllables. He keeps you still, held tight in his grip so that you can’t writhe and grind against his mouth and take control of your pleasure like he knows you’re trying to do. Like Roman said, you’re gonna take it. You’re gonna feel his perfect, pointed nose tease that space he just fucked with his tongue. Feel his lips lap at your poor, swollen clit. He eats you voraciously, consumes you whole and you’re beginning to see stars.

Roman intently listens to all those different noises you’re making. Muffled cries and those wet, lewd sounds of your cunt being licked, sucked, kissed, lapped. And he can feel your thighs twitching with your impending release, “Don’t come,” he reminds you in a singsong tone. “I’m not gonna stop this time. Don’t come.”

Your groan of frustration is muffled too, but unmistakable all the same. Only when Roman’s jaw and his tongue begin to tire does he finally relent, pulling away from your body but not before he kisses and bites your ass cheek right where it meets your thigh. Roman stands then, pumps his cock a couple of times with his fist before he lines up with your entrance, notching himself inside you. He offers no warning before burying himself in you unceremoniously, splitting you in two. You cry out, balling your bound fists. In a small gesture of kindness, Roman reaches for your hands and squeezes, rubs his thumb comfortingly over your palm as he allows you just a moment to get used to the stretch and the ache. When the tension dissipates and your fingers relax, he pulls out of you all the way and pushes himself right back in, even harder and faster than before. “God, you’re fuckin’ tight.”

He fucks you slow at first, searching for the right pace and angle to make you squirm. You arch your back and keen into the sensation, then quickly pull away as you realize you’ve given him another tell. But Roman’s attentive. With your sweet spot now in mind, he sets a quick pace with a zealous snapping of his hips, his neatly trimmed tuft of pubic hair rubs against your ass. He works a hand between you and his couch, pressing his fingertips against your clit and using his thrusts to stimulate it. He gives you his all and you can do nothing but take it, take him. “Fuck,” he pants, circling your asshole with his thumb before pressing it inside. “Oh, fuck. Tough nut to crack, aren’t you? I’ll get there. I’ll break you, just you wait.”

It’s not easy, and knowing what you’re not supposed to do. And it’s what Roman’s not trying to do that makes it all the more impossible. He’s fucking loud, all whines and groans and swears. And you’ve heard it all before from his mouth, but the way he strings it together has you dizzy. ‘Oh, fuck’ followed by a moan and another ‘Fuck’. Heavy breathing, ‘Such a good girl’ and a sharp inhale. Your panties feel extra obnoxious in your mouth now, knowing how much noise he makes himself. Glass houses, you think. Roman pulls out of you and flips you over so you’re face to face with him and then he’s right back at it, entering you once more and thumbing your clit just like he did in the chair. He’s glad he did so, learned what kind of tight circles to paint your clit with to make you moan loudest.

It’s sensitive and you’re right there, aching for release you know you shouldn’t allow yourself. It’s a constant fight, a push and pull between indulging in your pleasure and trying your hardest to block it out. You can’t quite read his expression when Roman notices your tear stained eyes, but he pulls your spit-soaked panties from your mouth and wipes your wet cheeks.

“You’re fine. You can take it,” he encourages. He pulls you closer so that you’re face to face, chest to chest, holding you tightly against himself. “It’s a lot, I know. You’re doing good.”

“Oh, Roman,” you moan, your eyes knit shut as you lean forward and bite into his neck to subdue your cries of pleasure. It helps to stave off your impending release.

“Oh, you bite hard,” Roman taunts, “Do what you need to do, whatever you think will work.”

It doesn’t work. He continues to round your clit with his thumb as he rolls his hips into yours and you know it and he knows it. Your breaths are shallow, your moans are strangled and you’re squirming. You’re so fucking close.

“It’s gonna happen, isn’t it? And you can’t do a fucking thing about it, can you?” Roman goads, “You gonna come for me?”

“No,” you whimper.

“Oh, come on. Just let go. You know I’m gonna get it out of you, one way or another. So quit torturing yourself, just let go for me. Hey–” he pulls back to look you in the eyes, stroking your back with one of his hands and his voice is kind, saccharine. “Just let go.” Roman nods, eyebrows raised as he searches for your confirmation. When you nod back, Roman smiles. He’s got you in the palm of his hand.

It’s a just few seconds of Roman teasing your clit with those tight, steadied circles as he fucks you deeply. And then you’re there, and god is it intense. You shake and stutter in Roman’s arms, and you’re certain you’re breaking into pieces, he’s just holding you together and thank god for that. Roman’s jaw twitches and he’s about to come undone with you, but he never loses focus on you. You’re gonna give him everything you have and he’s gonna make sure of it.

“Roman, Roman, Roman,” you cry. “Oh my god, Roman, please.”

“Fuck me,” he hisses. It’s too much and too sensitive as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release. He comes with a whine, painting your insides with his hot come before his thrusts slow to a still. Roman pulls out of you slowly, groaning as he does so. His come spills onto the expensive upholstery of his couch, but he doesn’t seem bothered. He’s still close to you as he fumbles with the knot of his necktie holding your wrists together. You can smell him, the fresh sweat and faint cologne. When he unties you, you rub your irritated wrists in your hands, doing your best to process what just happened. You dress yourselves silently, the rustling and swishing of your clothes, the clinking of Roman’s belt buckle are the only sounds in the room.

The ripping up of papers startles you. Roman crumples the shredded papers that discussed your raise and tosses them in his trash can. Dramatic. You watch as he does so, your heart dropping. “Don’t start with the waterworks. You came on my cock, you knew the rules. This is on you,” he says, “Hey, don’t look at me like that. You’re fucking fine. Everything’s fine, okay?”

It’s been about two weeks since your encounter with Roman. You’ve avoided him as much as one in your position can do, though it’s not easy. You use a variety of techniques, grey rocking, silent treatment. It doesn’t seem to deter him much.

Artie sits in his carrier as you pull out your wallet to pay for what’s probably his last treatment. You can’t help but feel so selfish, so consumed by guilt.

“Oh–” the vet’s office receptionist says, “It’s been paid for already. You guys are good to go.”

“Oh no, that can’t be right. Here–” you hand her your card.

But the receptionist doesn’t take it. “It is, actually. There’s a credit on your account.”

“What?”

“Yeah, someone called a couple of weeks ago and put a substantial credit on your account. You’re good for a long time.”

“Who?”

The receptionist shrugs, “Anonymous donor. They left a message though, if that helps.”

“What’d they say?”

“Uhmm,” the receptionist blushes and stutters. Instead of answering you verbally, she turns her monitor around to show you.

“For my favorite pornstar and her cat. Take care of him. -R”

If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a nice comment <3 your words keep me motivated.

#strang3lov3 #roman roy x reader smut #roman roy smut #Roman Roy x reader #roman roy x you #Roman Roy #succession x reader #succession fic #succession #kieran culkin

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nickfowlerrr · 11 months

Text

for the hope of it all.

pairing: greedy!lee bodecker x curvy!reader

warnings: angst. bit of fluff. mentions of reader x arvin and lee x wife. little flashback to pregnant reader. uhhh, there’s a baby. if i’m missing something important please feel free to let me know.

also lmk if i should tag this as dark!lee please bc i can’t decide if it needs it or not.

words: 3.2k

notes: my first written fic for my writing event. i spun the wheel and got greed and then spun another wheel and got lee and a few hours later here we are lol. please let me know what you think! comments and feedback are so, so appreciated. thank you in advance to everyone who reads and reblogs. 🖤

“Please, Lee. Please,” you whispered, voice breaking on the desperate plea as the stray tear you’d been fighting to keep at bay finally slipped down your cheek.

You were quick to wipe it away, shaking your head and looking away from the gaze of the man before you. The smirk that graced his face was the whole reason you had refused to let yourself cry, despite wanting to break down the moment he’d knocked on your door.

You’d just set Teddy in his crib, watching him a moment as the newborn slept peacefully, his tiny breaths and little movements making your heart clench.

You never knew you could love someone so much until you had him. Despite the pain and all the hardships that you’d faced from the day you met his daddy, as you watched Theodore, you were sure you wouldn’t change any of it if it meant never having had him.

You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard a car pull up the drive. You didn’t check the window, sure you knew who it was already as you went to greet him.

Before you were even halfway down the steps, an unnecessarily loud pounding sounded from the front door.

You were startled for a second, brows furrowing as you rushed down the last few steps to open it before whoever it was could pound again and wake the baby.

You were sure now, though, it definitely wasn’t Arvin. He’d never be so careless to knock that loudly, even if he’d left his key and was locked out.

When you pulled the door open in a bit of a huff, your breath froze in your chest.

As you met the hard blue eyes of the man you’d been avoiding for the past 11 months, you weren’t sure what to do. So, you stayed as you were, blocking his view of the house as you pulled the door more closely to your body and watched him. You wouldn’t speak first. You weren’t sure you could.

“Been a while, darlin’.” He greeted, though his words were cold and stiff, as if he was trying to hold in the anger you could see raging in his eyes.

You swallowed hard. “How can I help you, Sheriff?” you asked, ignoring his comment.

He scoffed as he looked down on you. “That’s how you wanna do this, sugar? Fine,” he said before shoving his way into the house.

You were in shock as he pushed past you, your first instinct to yell at him was held back by the knowledge that your baby was asleep just up the stairs.

“What the hell are you doing? You can’t just barge in here because you’re police,” you nearly seethed as you follow him while he walked further in, going toward the kitchen while he looked around the place.

He spun on you at your words and stopped you in your spot. “Honey, I can do whatever the hell I want. Because I’m the sheriff,” he snarled in your face before he backed up just the slightest. He adjusted his belt as he stood to his full height and licked his teeth, trying to compose himself.

“I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you, sweetheart,” he started, your heart dropping instantly. “That boyfriend a’yours seems to have gotten himself into some trouble downtown.”

Your mouth went dry as you stared at him dumbly. “No,” you shook your head. “Arvin wouldn’t do anything to get into any kind of trouble. What are you- what are you talking about?” you tried to stay calm, but the stutter was surely telling enough.

“Down at the shop,” he began, taking his time, seemingly enjoying the sight of your anxiousness written all over your face, “he had some words with Levi. Guess the kid made a comment about his girl. Imagine my surprise to find out that girl was you,” he detoured.

“What happened,” you asked pointedly, all while trying to keep your composure and your voice down.

“Well, Mr. Russell didn’t take too kindly to the things Levi said. Lost his temper. I’ll spare you the details, sweetheart. Long story short, Levi’s up at the hospital. Your little boyfriend is up at the jailhouse, waitin’ for his hearin tomorrow mornin’.”

You felt sick. This wasn’t Arvin’s first time in jail but you remember what he told you last time, the judge said one more strike and he’d be taken to county. Arvin wasn’t a bad man. He was one of the best men you’d ever known. But he did have a bit of a short fuse when it came to defending the people he loved. You’d known that since you were in school together. It was one of the things you’d always admired about him..

The one thing you were confused about right now though, was why in the hell Lee was here telling you this.

“Is he okay?” you asked quietly. The narrowing of Lee’s eyes as he looked at you, and the tick of his jaw at your question had your stomach twisting.

“Aw, ain’t that sweet. Look at you, all worried about him.”

“Lee,” you said.

“He’ll be fine,” he gruffed as he went into your fridge and took one of Arvin’s beers. You were in too much of a stupor to do or say anything about it, though.

As you watched him take a swig, your eyes finally fell on his bloodied knuckles.

You took a step back, as if he’d slapped you, somehow knowing exactly how he'd done that.

“What did you do?” you said, accusingly as you reached out and held onto the wall beside you.

“Told ya' I was surprised to hear the girl he was so concerned with, whose honor he needed to protect so badly, was you. I thought you were long gone, sweetheart. But when your name came up, I knew I’d been wrong. Knew you were somewhere out here. Took a bit to finally get him to tell me where you were, but,” he flexed his hand, “they all break in the end.”

You were seeing red at his words. He'd hurt Arvin, and for what? You couldn't let him do this, couldn't let him get to you so easily.

"You need to leave, Lee. Now. If I wanted you to know where I was, you would've. I told you I wasn't gonna wait around for you. You made your choice. So go," you said firmly as you could manage through your tight throat.

You stayed still as he set the bottle down on the counter, stalking over to you. You only blinked when he was right in front of you as you took a shaky breath in and out.

"My choice was you," he said as he pinned you against the wall, his arms trapping you. But you weren't scared. Just solemn. The hurt that never went away radiating in your soul.

"...No, it wasn't," you refuted, voice quiet as you shook your head, looking him in the eye. "It was the job. It was her. You just wanted me to be your good little whore on the side," you continued, disgusted with him and yourself, thinking about the times you let him touch you. The times you gave yourself to him. You should have known from the beginning. Maybe a part of you always did. The only way you'd get your happily ever after was if Lee chose to give it to you.

Lee Bodecker was a selfish, greedy man. He wanted it all, he didn't want to choose. But he had. Whether he acknowledged it or not, he made his choice. As much as it hurt, you had to accept that it wasn't you.

"You know that ain't fuckin' true," he snarled, holding your chin tightly in his hand as you looked up at him. His voice softened as he looked back at you. "I meant all I said to you, darlin'. I love you," he said as he pressed his forehead to yours. "If you'da just been patient," he breathed hotly, "we'd be together right now. I'da got rid of her, just like I told you I would."

The pain slipping into his voice was like daggers in your heart. You wanted so badly to believe him, but you were always told how gullible you were. Especially with Lee, you'd buy into anything he said if he said it prettily enough.

You had known you had to leave town, get away, or else you'd just run right back to him, or he'd find you and convince you to stay. You told everyone you were leaving, making sure word got around, and it did. He was too preoccupied in his campaign to bother doing anything about it, or maybe he just didn't believe you'd actually go. You weren't sure which it was.

You had enlisted the help of Arvin to assist you in packing, he had always been a good friend to you and wanted to do whatever he could. The last day you were packing away, though, you got another bout of morning sickness in front of him.

It was like Arvin knew before you did that you were pregnant. But he never left. He was there for you. Held you when you cried, assured you everything would be okay as you spilled your heart out to him, telling him everything. Instead of moving out of town like you had planned, you moved in with Arvin.

Time seemed to pass you by so quickly from then on. One day Arvin was holding your hair back for you as you emptied your stomach into his toilet, and the next he was holding your hand as you pushed through tears of pain and heartbreak while you delivered your baby in the next town over.

When the nurse had taken Teddy, you were an inconsolable mess of guilt and heartache. Arvin was right there with you, had been from the very start, but he wasn't Lee.

You were crying because Lee should have been there, should have been the one holding your hand and wiping your tears, you should have told him that you were having his baby. The guilt was crushing. Not only for having kept your pregnancy from him, but because the man who stayed beside you the entire time deserved so much better than a broken girl who was still in love with the man who broke her heart. It wasn't fair to any of you.

And then the nurse came back over, holding a blue swaddled bundle in her arms. You timidly took your baby as she handed him over to you and the second you laid your eyes on him, all thoughts just went away. The only thing you could focus on was this precious little life you held in your arms. And though your tears kept flowing, they were of overwhelming joy as you looked down at your sweet Teddy.

Teddy.

You heard him cry and your eyes went wide as Lee kept his hold on you.

Another cry as you swallowed thickly, sure your face was full of desperation as you surveyed Lee.

His brows furrowed as he looked in the direction of the living room, dropping his hand as he moved closer to the noise.

You scurried past him, stopping him from starting up at the stairs.

"Lee," was all you could manage to say.

He looked at you incredulously. "That a baby cryin' up there?" he asked rigidly.

You couldn't breathe. You didn't know what to do. Your guilt was written clear as day on your face as you pouted at him, watering puppy dog eyes pleading with him, for what you weren't sure.

"I'll say this once, then I'm not gonna be nice about it, darlin'. Either answer me or get outta my way."

Still no words could form on your tongue. When he stepped to get up the stairs, you let him pass you before turning around and quickly following him.

Lee followed the sound of the newborn cries up to the nursery. When he got to the door, you watched as he took a steadying breath before he pushed in, like he was readying himself for the sight he knew he'd be met with.

He walked slowly to the crib where Theodore was laying, crying for attention.

Lee's mouth was agape as he looked down at the baby.

Two pairs of brilliantly blue eyes staring back at one another.

You knew Lee knew instantly, there was no denying it. Teddy was his mini me. He looked exactly like his father.

You watched as Lee carefully reached down and took Teddy in his big arms, holding him safely and smiling down at him as Teddy calmed in his hold.

Your nose was tingling and it took everything in you not to burst into tears at the sight.

"What's his name?" Lee asked in a hushed tone.

"Theodore," you answered just as softly.

Theo's baby garbling had Lee laughing as he cooed down at his son. You swore you could see the gleam in Lee's eyes as he watched him.

After a sniff and a clearing of his throat, Lee's gaze shot back to you. Accusatory and angry, his hurt underlining all of it.

"You had my baby, and were just gonna keep 'im from me?"

"No, no I- I was gonna. Gonna tell you. I wanted to, I just didn't know.." you trailed off, wringing your hands.

"Didn't know what?"

"How," you answered. "Didn't know how to. Didn't know how you'd react. Wasn't entirely sure you'd want to know."

"You think I wouldn't want to know that I have a kid?" he asked harshly. You took a step to him, holding your hand out instinctively to remind him that he had the baby in his arms.

"You're married, Lee. You're holding public office. I know you well enough to know that you don't want anything to mess with that. I don't think having a child with someone other than your wife would be looked on too favorably."

"I told you I'd get rid of her," he said again, lowly. "I will."

"Lee, please," you said, exasperated. "I'm sorry. I am. I should have told you, you had a right to know, but I can't do this with you. That's why I left. I do love you," you said brokenly, "I've never stopped. But I can't live my life just waiting for you to call when you want me. And I won't let you do that to Theo, either. He deserves a father who's around, who puts him as a priority,"

"Oh, and you think he'll have that with Arvin?" he challenged. "I wouldn't be too sure, sweetheart. Those charges really have a way of addin' up. Who knows how long of a sentence he'll be gettin' tomorrow."

You couldn't help but stress at his words. You knew some of what Lee had done before, and you know what he'd be willing to do now, to get his way. If he wanted Arvin put away, there wouldn't be anything you could do to stop it from happening.

You may not have been in love with Arvin, but you did love him. He was your best friend; you don't know what you'd be doing or even where you'd be right now if it weren't for his help and care. He didn't deserve to be punished for your mistakes; you couldn't let that happen.

"Why would you do that?" you asked, hurt lacing your voice. "What do you want from me, Lee?"

"You ain't dumb, honey. You know what I want," he said easily as he rocked Theo lightly while he gripped onto his daddy's finger, his big blue eyes falling closed as he drifted back to his peaceful sleep. Lee's blazing blue orbs met yours once more. "I want you. I want this, all a this with you, and him,” he said, sparing another glance to his baby boy.

“Please, Lee. Please,” you whispered, voice breaking on the desperate plea. "You can’t - He needs something stable. Real."

Lee assessed you for a moment before shaking his head with a slight scoff and a smirk. "This is real, darlin'. I'll give you both what you deserve. I just need a little time, that's all," he said as he set Theo back down in the basinet before turning back to you. "Can't make you my wife while I'm still married, but I'll get that taken care of quick. Then you and the baby can get settled in at home, we can finally be together. Just like we always talked about," he continued, taking your hands in his and pulling you in. "Havin' a family," he brought his hand up to tilt your face up to his, brushing his lips against yours. And you let him.

"And it'll be good for reelection next year, too. People like a family man."

You cringed and pulled away at that. At least you tried to, Lee's hold not let you get far at all.

"Don't be like that, darlin'. Come on, you know it'll be good for all of us. We can be happy," he said as his knuckles brushed your cheek.

The touch reminded you, "What about Arvin?"

"What about 'im?" he asked uninterested.

"You'll let him go," you state, grabbing his hand.

"I will," he agrees, "soon as you two are all moved in with me, I'll make sure he's released. Can't have you trying to run off on me again. I won't let you go so easy this time."

You swallowed back the cry that wanted to be let free as you looked at him. You hated that Arvin would have to suffer while you wait on Lee to keep his word. But what else can you do.

"How long?" you ask brokenly, eyes drifting over to the crib. "I can't do this alone."

"Won't be long, sweetheart. She's already been on her way out. A week, two tops. And you won't be alone. If you think for a minute I'd ever not be around for my child, you're outta your mind. If I’d a known sooner, I,” he cut himself off with a shake of his head. “I'll come over every night, check on ya both. You need somethin', you tell me. I'll show you I can take care'a you two better than that boy ever could."

Sweet words. Always so sweet coming from his lips. Your heart aches, for a million different reasons, as you let Lee come closer, pressing his lips to yours before his arms find their way around your frame.

And just like that, after nearly a year of not giving in to the temptation to see him, he has you once more, so easily. He gets what he wants. Just like he always does. Like he always will. You wonder briefly if it will ever be enough. You're not sure you want to know the answer.

"You've got no idea how much I've missed you, darlin'," he whispers against your lips. "Thought about you every damn day."

You feel the tears as they slip down your cheeks, a wave of relief falling over you under his touch, but the guilt still remains... It's just not enough to make you stop him. Not enough to want him to stop.

And the hope for your promised happily ever after renews in your heart. Because maybe you’ll finally get it, just how you pictured, with Lee by your side, starting your own little family.. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

Lee Bodecker may be a selfish and greedy man.

But maybe you're no better.

#the seven writing event #nickfowlerrr’s writing event #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x plus size!reader #lee bodecker x curvy!reader #lee bodecker angst #dark!lee bodecker #soft!dark lee bodecker #soft dark lee bodecker #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x female reader #lee bodecker fic #sebastian stan characters

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littlexscarletxwitch · 6 months

Text

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): nsfw, fluffy smut, wlw establish relationship, gf flo is the best (lol), r's anxious

warning(s): MDNI, +18 ONLY read at your own risk, explicit smut, wlw sex, oral sex, slight praise kink i guess, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.6k

requested?: yes: "👉🏼👈🏼another one. uhhh twitchy shy gf who is either like biting her lips, picking her skin, vaping, or biting her nails and then Flo comes home and is like all cute and cozy and cuddly and sweet. then when all is well, she slowly and lovingly eats out her gf and praises her for no longer hurting herself and the gf just giggles bc like…her pussy being eaten literally." - 💦🍯 anon

note: I'm so sorry it took me soooo long, nonnie. But it's finally here, thank you so much for you request, I love your requests lol. Hope you all enjoy. Lots of love, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules here + masterlist <3

Your leg was bouncing up and down, your teeth were biting your bottom lip, as your finger picked the skin around your nails.

She noticed it, of course. Florence always knew when you were starting to feel anxious. So she grabbed your hand in between hers, rested her leg over yours, and brought her lips to yours.

The movie playing on the tv was forgotten when she brought you toward her. “I don’t like it when you do that,” she confessed in between kisses, but there was no trace of anger in her tone, just worry.

“When do I do what exactly?” you said breathlessly over her lips, clueless as to what she was referring to.

“The picking and biting,” she said, as she lightly squeezed your hand. “I can understand the bouncing. But not the other two, I don't like you hurting yourself.”

“Flo, It’s nothing really,” you tried to shrug it off.

“But it is, it is to me. It's nothing at first, but then you start to do it more often and then your fingertips and lips will be all bloody and I won’t like that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you shyly said.

“It’s okay, don’t apologise,” she left a soft kiss on your forehead. “I just… Promise me you will try to stop that habit, okay?”

“Okay,” you reassuringly smiled at her, promising to yourself to keep to your word.

[...]

You were currently on the couch, some relaxing and calming music playing as you worked on the proposal you had to hand in tomorrow morning. Your anxiety was creeping over and the stupid music did nothing to calm you down. But it wasn’t the music’s fault, it was completely yours. You were supposed to have it already done, but something came up then another, and now you were doing your best to finish it up before its deadline.

“Honey, I’m home,” you heard Florence singsang as she entered your shared home.

“In here,” you answered her, your eyes not leaving the screen in front of you.

“Hey, babes,” she said, as she let herself fall on the couch next to you, snuggling into your body, leaving a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Hey,” you smiled at her, you could already feel some of your anxiety washing away just by her closeness. “How was your day?”

“Oh, you know, the usual, nothing interesting,” she shrugged it off. “Hey, what are you up to?” she asked once she noticed how your fingertips were speed typing into your laptop.

“It’s nothing, I just need to finish up this paper that's due tomorrow.”

“Oh, am I distracting you or something?”

“No, no. You’re fine,” you left a kiss on her forehead. “Just give me a second here, and then I’ll be all yours.”

“Okay,” Florence smiled to herself, watching as you typed some fancy and big words into a word document.

It was then that she noticed your twitchy state: the bouncing leg was back again and she noticed your fingers were slightly trembling. Fortunately you weren’t biting your bottom lip and your fingertips’ skin wasn’t picked.

“Y/n, are you okay?” still she was concerned, you were clearly anxious about this stupid paper.

“Yeah, why?” you took a quick look at her and noticed she was staring at your hands. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you said, slightly closing your hand into a fist to stop them from shaking. “I just want to get it done,” you huffed.

“You know, if it’s stressing you out so much, maybe you should get a break,” she said, resting her head on your shoulder.

“And I will as soon as I’m done,” you breathed out, slightly bumping your head against hers. “I promise, we can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” half of your brain was concentrated on the words you were typing in but still her understone didn’t go unnoticed by you.

You chuckled, “Yes, whatever you want.”

“Okay,” she said, leaving a quick kiss on your cheek. “Let me know when you’re done.”

“Will do,” you smiled at her as you watched her leave the room, a smirk on her face, which sent a shiver up your spine.

You typed some more words into the document, deleted others, changed some into more fancy ones, rearranged the order of the paragraphs a few times and by the time the clock hit 9pm you were finally done with the goddamn thing. Lastly, you sent a copy of the document to your boss and once that was done you felt a weight had been lifted off from your shoulders.

You placed your now closed laptop on the coffee table, and went on your way to find Florence.

“Flo?” you called her out from your bedroom door. “What are you doing in bed? Don’t you want to have something to eat? Aren’t you hungry?” you said, stepping in, plopping yourself down on the mattress.

“You know I’ve been thinking…” she completely ignored your question as she crawled toward you. Her undertone and smirk didn’t go unnoticed by you. “You’ve been doing so good not picking your skin or biting your lip,” you could feel her hot breath on your lips. “I think you deserve a reward,” she quickly kissed the corner of your lips sending shivers up your spine.

“What kind of reward?” she didn’t even kiss you and you were already breathless, just her closeness was enough for your brain to malfunction.

“Well…,” she cupped your cheeks. “I was thinking…” she brought her lips to yours, kissing them slowly, making your stomach tightened into a knot. “I am hungry… you said it yourself…” her lips moved down to your jaw.

“What are you hungry for?” it almost came out as a whimper.

“You,” she said, muttered by your skin as she got on top of you.

A curse slipped past your lips as she rocked her hips against yours. Your hands flew to her waist, squeezing and pressing her even closer to you, making her moan as she kissed and sucked on your collarbone.

You didn’t realise how or when, due to your brain being all foggy because of her entire being, but a second later, or so you thought, the two of you were stripped out of your clothes. She was still on top of you, kissing every inch of your body as if she was worshipping you.

Everytime she would kiss a new area, she would move further down your body, getting dangerously close to your core. She was teasing you obviously, she knew you were already too goddamn wet for her fingers or strap to easily get past inside you. But she wanted for her lips and tongue to have their way with you.

The closer she got to your burning throbbing cunt, the more your legs would twitch, the more you would hiss, and the more you would squirm under her. The whole thing only encouraged her even more to do with you as she pleased.

“Stop with the teasing… please,” you blurted out breathlessly.

And without any warning whatsoever, she buried her mouth, chin and nose into you. A low ‘fuck’ slipped out of your lips followed by her name and a gasp at the sudden contact. Your hand flew to the back of her head, tugging her hair in a makeshift ponytail, getting all of it out of the way so you could see her properly as she ate you out.

Her eyes were closed, deep in concentration, as you moaned and whimpered. The picture only added more to your arousal and the knot forming in your stomach would only get tighter as her tongue slipped in and out of you and her nose brushed against your clit.

“Holy fuck,” she took it as a sign for her to pushed her finger inside of you.

Your cunt sucked in her finger so easily that she knew you could take a second one, maybe even a third one. And so she did, she took out the single finger and pushed two inside you, and once she knew you were ready, two fingers became three.

“Oh, God!” you said as you heard the room being filled by the sound of her sloppy finger thrusting in and out of you as her lips mercilessly sucked on your clit.

“Not God, honey,” she playfully muttered against your core.

“Shut the fuck—,” you were cut off by a loud moan. “Flo, I’m close… I’m so close,” it came out as a cry as the knot in your stomach felt so tight that any second now would snap.

“Come, baby,” her words were muffled. “Be a good girl and come.”

And you wanted to be that good girl she deserved, the good girl she loved, the good girl she knew you were, so you did. With a loud cry, followed by a cursed and mumbling her name over and over again, you came in her mouth as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as your hand brought her head closer to you if it was possible, as you almost strangled her with your leg wrapping around her head.

“There you go,” she said as her tongue helped you ride out your high and as she made sure to suck in every single drop of your sweet juices.

Your whole body went limp as she sucked the very last drop of your cum. And when she was done, her lips met yours, making you have a taste of yourself.

“So good to me…” she whispered over your lips. “My good girl did so good,” she said, as she placed a sweet kiss on your forehead and watched a shade of red creeping on your cheeks as you giggled.

She felt her heart melting, she had just eaten you out and now you were blushing and giggling just by a few words. Oh, how lucky she was. You were in fact her good girl, and the thought brought a smile to her face.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#florence pugh #florence pugh x fem reader #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh imagine #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh smut #littlexscarletxwitch's fic #requests by lovely anons ‘๑’

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jake-g-lockley · 1 year

Note

ooo hi!! can i request something with marc where he tells the reader a secret (any secret) while they're laying in bed together? just something cute and sweet and maybe a lil vulnerable, thank you!!

Forever Feels Like… (Marc Spector x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Wanna be Tagged?

A/N: Heya lovely! Thanks for the ask, this is so pure ughhh. I added a little change but I hope you like this huhu <33 THIS GIF OF MARC LORD I WILL SIN HES SO BEAUTIFUL!! also THIS SONG UGH TAYLORRRRR

Word count: 1.4 k

One of your favourite things in the world was coming back home to a soft warm bed where no secrets are kept. It was a promise you made with the love of your life and he had intended to keep that promise, no matter how much the truth hurt. It was a difficult process, trying to get Marc to open up, but when he started doing it, he felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he realized that if he ever had secrets he wouldn’t mind sharing them with you.

Today was a particularly cold night. The city below was exceptionally silent and it wasn’t hard to get cosy in bed. You had a book in your hands, mouthing the words as Marc dried his hair off from his late shower, lighting one of your favourite scented candles before climbing into bed. He crawled towards you and settled his head on your tummy, wordlessly placing your hand in his hair and you smiled down at him, letting your fingers lazily twist his damp locks.

The silence between the both of you was something of a luxury, rich and comfortable, a silence that made you feel like everything was going to be alright whenever he was by your side. Sometimes, one of you would punctuate the silence with something that the both of you would giggle about and when your peripheral caught Marc staring up at you, you knew it was his turn today.

“Do you ever just pretend like you are in a music video when you’re listening to music?” Marc whispered.

“Huh?” you were caught off guard with his statement and you sat up a little, confused.

“Uhhh, nevermind…” Marc reeled back and your heart almost stopped.

“No, no, wait, do you?” you stutter out before you could lose your husband to his own dilemmas.

After a long pause, you finally got an answer from Marc.

“Yes…”

Your mouth twisted into a grin as Marc hides his face in his hands. You caught a blush creeping up his face and your heart fluttered at his cuteness.

“Tell me how.” you whispered, letting your hands curl around his wrist, gently tugging his hands to expose his beautiful face.

“No.” he mumbled.

“Baby, come on, you can’t spring a secret on me like that and not dwell into it. You know I will never ever judge.” you felt Marc’s vulnerability pulling at your heartstrings.

Marc takes a deep breath as you lace your fingers with his, kissing his knuckles gently. He gets up from where he is laying down and changes his position, so that now he was facing you.

“Sometimes, I just close my eyes and let the music soothe everything and it means that I eventually forget all my troubles and fall into a dream world.” he whispers, his breath fanning your face with how close he was.

You nod, egging him on.

“It’s just me alone, in a world without people and it feels safe and comfortable.”

Marc used a lot of things to cope over the years. He had believed in himself and therapy had been slowly taking the edge off things. You were glad that your husband was getting all of the help that he needed. Often you would find him doing things that would make you smile.

He’d like to seem tough around you but in reality, he was a real softy who deserved the world. Sometimes you would catch him fast asleep with his headphones on, and when you leaned down to press a kiss onto his cheek, you would catch Taylor Swift’s beautiful voice, making you giggle at his choice of music. It was endearing, the way he would smile softly in his sleep and snuggle his nose into the pillow.

“Then when I met you, you kinda changed everything, because then, all the songs had you in it.”

His statement caught you way off guard now and your heart thudded in your chest furiously.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.” He smiled softly and you swore in that moment, you will literally do anything for him.

“Oh Marc…” you whispered, tracing your fingertips on the lines on his face.

“Winters here are cold and miserable but you make me feel warm and loved.” He whispers, his lips meeting yours softly.

Healing was something that was hard for Marc. The idea of mortality was so confusing for a man that had died and come back to life. When the songs started to sound like they had been written about you and him, Marc choose to believe that he needed to cherish his mortality, choosing to hand it to you instead because he knew that you were the only one he could trust it with.

“Sometimes I catch myself daydreaming about you and I hate being a romantic but I guess it's ok since it’s you.” He sighs and you giggle.

“Says the man who lets me steal his favourite cookies.” you boop his nose and his face scrunches.

“You and me both know that the missing cookies are the work of elves.” Marc grumbles and you barked out a laugh before kissing his forehead. “Very sexy wifey elves.”

You used to dream of a man like this, one who would give you everything without a single question. You knew his love was genuine and he had so much love to give, so much so that it exhausted him. You searched hard for years but he turned up when you least expected him to and now here he was, this beautiful man, barring his secrets to you.

“I guess it’s my turn now huh, Spector?” you say, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself.

Marc nodded encouragingly into your chest where he had settled his head in. You gently wrapped your arms around him and held him close, twisting his hair between your fingers.

“Okay, mine has been a little thing I’ve been doing for the past few weeks. I’ve stopped wearing setting spray.” You sighed and Marc brought his head out of your chest and glared at you.

“Wait! Before you say anything, hear me out.” You say before Marc could berate you about that not being a real secret.

He nodded, snuggling back into your chest.

Marc had always been a big fan of the blush you wear. Everyday you thank the goddess called Selena Gomez and slowly press the cream foundation over your foundation. Marc always noticed when you wore it and would watch you with his head perched on his palms as you skipped around the kitchen making breakfast.

One day, you had forgotten to spray your setting spray and Marc kissed your cheek before you could say anything. When he pulled away, you noticed that the blush had transferred onto his lips, the light tinge of colour making your heart swell with happiness. He left to work like that before you could say a thing and from that day on, you decided to skip out on your setting spray.

“So yea, you’ve been going to work with my blush on your lips, babe.” you say finally and almost jumped when Marc began to laugh in your arms.

“I know.” Marc stuttered out between laughs.

“Huh?”

“Yea, I know, I’ve been doing it on purpose.” He raised his head to kiss your cheek with a big ‘MUAH!’

“You looked so cute the first time I did that to you, there was a small imprint of my lips on your cheek and I pretended not to notice, but I loved it. It just gave me a reason to come back and kiss you again and again.” he said, kissing you between sentences as you writhed and giggled under him.

“What god brought you to me?” You sighed, pressing your forehead to his.

“Weirdly, an Egyptian one.” Marc murmured.

“Ok, let’s not talk about big bird and summon him here.” you rolled your eyes at the thought of your husband’s ex employer.

“Mmhm, I’d most definitely wish to be alone now with my sweetheart.” Marc mumbled as his lips dropped to yours again and his arms curl around your waist, pulling you impossibly close.

You relaxed into his touch, accepting every single path you had taken to get to this single moment. Your heart swooned as Marc hooked your legs behind him, his nose dragging gently along your neck.

Secrets had never tasted so good.

Reblogs are appreciated~~~

Tagging: @fandxmslxt69 @randomnessfangirl @bodhisattva11 @marc-spectors-wife @nyotamalfoy @steven-grants-world @whatsliferightnow @minigirl87 @wonderfulboiledcoldpotato @alexxavicry @autismsupermusicalassassin @flordelalunas @marygraceee @bloodredwolfsbane @euphoricosmo @sky-robin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sugarpunch-princess @violet-19999 @celiaswife @swiggy-needs-mental-help @ghostheartbeat @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @lil-stark @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm @spookyysilverr @bubblezuku @cookielovesbook-akie @mandoloriancookie @pimosworld @undermoonknightwalk

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dnd-writes · 9 months

Text

Looking Up

AO3

Tags: toy!Haseul, master!reader, sexual slavery, public humiliation, masturbation, master/slave, dom/sub, slapping, impact play, humiliation, dacryphilia, degradation, name calling, self degradation, begging, punishment, dub-con?, rough oral sex, deepthroat, choking, gagging, breath play, fear play, biting, floor cleaning, painal, hair pulling, more slapping, emotion play, somewhat/barely edited

Warning: Well, the tags speak for themselves. Lots of generally degrading things plus a bunch of stuff that isn't usually seen in fics (or at least I don't usually see). Also gets a little more harsh/violent than what most people would probably be used to so... yeah, just full of degeneracy so uhh... enjoy!

A/N: Longest fic I've written amounting to just a little above 6k words wtf I didn't even notice (at first, until I started adding random stuff to meet the mark). Honestly I had a vision for this fic in mind which kinda got lost as I made it so if it feels a little over the place or if it bounces from this to that and that to this then I apologize. Also, while writing this, I was also writing the sequel fic somewhat alongside it. I'm not gonna go to detail about it to avoid spoilers but at the end I'll put a poll regarding the sequel so when you're done with this or you wanna skip right to the end then don't forget to vote, thank you!

Being a leader of a group can be tiring enough, what more when there are 12 total members? Everyone in the group looks up to Haseul, she’s so caring and loving, she’s almost like the mother in the group. Always taking care of her members, always comforting them, always being there for them, it can get tiring for her sometimes but the way everyone looks so happy and content is enough of a reward for the struggles she faces having to deal with her 11 girls. They love her and she loves them back.

However, sometimes Haseul wants something else, needs something else, something totally the opposite of her current position in the group. She needs someone to look up to, someone to be her leader, someone to hold her. Haseul found it impossible to ask her groupmates about this problem, she just couldn’t bring herself to talk to them about it, every time she thought she was ready to speak no words came out of her mouth. It wasn’t just embarrassment or fear, there was something in her holding herself back from reaching out, something within her preventing her from telling even the closest people in her life about such a deeply disturbing problem that’s affecting her.

That’s when she realized that even if she told anyone about it, even her closest friends and family, there was nothing they could do to appease that inner desire of hers. That’s when she realized that she needs a complete stranger to fulfill her darkest needs, someone who wouldn’t judge such a need that she has, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to deliver through with her requests. That’s when she realized that it’s more than just having a leader, more than just having someone to look up to, more than just an external force. That’s when she realized that her needs reach far deeper than she thought, not just her mind or her heart but rather her whole body needs it. That’s when she realized she doesn’t need a leader, she needs an owner. She doesn’t need someone to look up to, she needs to look up at someone. She doesn’t want to be someone important, she wants to be nobody. She doesn’t want to comfort, she wants to be hurt.

= = = = =

“What’s taking you so long?” You can see on Haseul’s face that she’s tired from whatever it is she did prior to calling you, she puts on a dainty smile but it’s wiped away so quickly with how stern you sound. A nervous chuckle escaped her lips before finally answering, “Uhhh… I left a little late—” Haseul pulls the microphone on her earbuds closer to her mouth “—Master.” A whisper so faint even you could barely hear it but you didn’t press her to say it louder, public humiliation wasn’t on your agenda today, you have something else in store for Haseul when she finally reaches you, especially after having to make you wait for so long.

“Didn’t I tell you to be here at 4 sharp?” Your tone is gradually rising as you speak and you just see Haseul on your screen sink deeper into her seat out of humiliation.

“But we had—” “No ‘buts’ what did I tell you? I don’t care what you’re doing or where you’re at, if I set a time, you should be here at that time. Maybe I should just call s—”

“NO!” Haseul covers her mouth as she reactively opposes you. Her expression quickly changes to one of panic, both from screaming inside a tiny car and from even daring to go against your wishes. She quickly apologizes to the driver then bows her body as much as she can to apologize to you. “I-I mean… do whatever you want, Master. I am sorry.”

If there’s one thing to describe Haseul it’s determination and she wants nothing more in the world than to have your gaze to be solely on her, just the mere thought or mention of any of your other toys makes her desperate to the point where she goes against everything else, goes against her “code” just to keep you to herself.

You check your list of schedules and it seems like Haseul is the only one available for at least two more hours, so even if you wanted to give her emotional pain, the best you could really do is bluff. Not that it would matter to Haseul, she will believe any word you will say—the real problem is with your needs, without Haseul or any other toy, you’ll be left alone and sexually frustrated.. “Fine.” Just one word is enough to make Haseul bounce joyfully in her seat then immediately after she puts a serious face on, ready to follow any order you give her even from inside a taxi.

You didn’t really intend on doing it but given that you don’t have any other toys to play with at the moment, it will have to do. “What are you wearing?” you ask and Haseul simply extends her arm and angled the phone at her body, from seeing a view of just her face to everything but. A black camisole and jean shorts, a very typical outfit for her. Nothing too special about it aside from lots of skin and slight curvature of her chest along her tight top.

“Take it all off, play with yourself.” Although she’s in a stranger’s car, Haseul doesn’t hesitate to follow orders. You see her unbutton her shorts then not-so-elegantly shimmy them past her hips, it is a struggle enough having to remove them with her ass in the way but using only one hand while seated in a car makes it even harder. This isn’t the graceful strip tease Haseul hoped it would be, her smile weakens and you can just see the panic slowly start to build up within her. You’re simply watching her and yet the prospect of disappointing you acts like surveillance on her entire being.

Haseul forgoes visual for speed but ends up grunting just a little too loudly, she freezes for a split second, looking over to the front before resuming her poor attempt at an elegant show. After a tedious couple of seconds, Haseul finally manages to get her shorts past her hips and it smoothly sails down her legs and onto the floor. What’s left behind is her shaved pussy, wet and ready for any debauchery you plan to bring upon her.

She lowers herself in her seat, trying to conceal herself as much as possible from the driver and potentially from other cars who might just peer through the window. As opposed to her shorts, her top and bra lift over her chest with ease, revealing her full round breasts to you—above her mounds you can see faded black ink spelling out the word “SLAVE” just beneath her bunched up clothing, still not fully erased from yesterday’s session.

Haseul spreads her legs as much as she can then sticks her ring and middle into her snatch. She chooses not to go fast so as to not alert the driver of how she’s defiling his vehicle but you have other plans. “Cum for me, Haseul. Before you get here I want you to cum in that seat.” Haseul’s eyes widen from nervousness, this is the most humiliating thing you’ve asked her to do ever since you strolled her around naked in the middle of the night but her calling to serve and obey you stands above all and not a second later her eyes glitter with resolve.

Haseul ups her pace while trying to be discreet as possible, with one hand holding the phone and the other busy with her pussy, best she can do to not be noticed is to bite her lips down and hope the car is loud enough to drown the wet sounds emanating from fingering herself.

If traffic is how it usually is like other days then that means Haseul only has a few minutes to complete her task so you sit back and wait to see how Haseul approaches this. What makes this even funner is seeing the struggle on Haseul’s face as she tries to get herself off in subpar conditions—only slightly comfortable, not able to moan, not having her tits played with, and not having your cock in her makes it so hard for her but Haseul’s determination keeps her going, that and the fact that she doesn’t want to upset you.

By the second it’s getting harder for Haseul to maintain herself, her lips start to part every now and then, sometimes she catches herself mid-moan and bites down on her lips to quiet herself, other times they slip right past and cause such lewd sounds to fill the dead air. You smile seeing your toy so obedient and Haseul flashes a quick smile in return of your approval of her. Your smile seems to trigger something else in her as you see her chest start to heave faster and her fingers to pump harder, your effect on her is huge even if all you did was curl your lips upward.

She adds her index to the mix and by now she’s slowly starting to lose herself to the heat of the moment. Her eyes slowly start to close and her mouth stays wide open. You can even start to hear her fingers pistoning in and out of her pussy together with lewd squelching, her moans start to get louder too as she slowly forgets about the situation she’s in. You wonder what’s going on in that head of hers but you decide not to disturb her lest you break her concentration.

Total ignorance of her surroundings as Haseul treats her digits like a cock wanting to cum deep inside of her, her pussy leaks so much that it coats her hand and the seat in her own juices, her moans turn to shouts of passion as her hips grind against her hand. You notice Haseul starting to arch her back and her legs closing around her fingers, she’s close and you both know it. Maybe she will be able to do something that pleases you for once today.

That is, until the car comes to a complete stop. You look out of your window and there you see the taxi and you can kinda see Haseul still going at it inside. It’s only when the driver clears his throat that she notices she’s at her destination “Ma’am… ummm, we’re here.” Haseul’s eyes go completely wide as she looks forward at the driver’s seat but the shock of finding out that the driver sees her in such a state doesn’t compare to when she looks at her phone to see your blank stare. You let out a sigh and shake your head. “Just pay him well for his troubles. Leave your clothes there, I’ll meet you inside.” Your deadpan delivery is like a knife through her heart, you can see Haseul on the verge of tears just by talking to her like that.

Haseul takes out two yellow bills from her wallet and hands them to the driver using her clean hand. “K-Keep the change,” she says as she bows profusely before exiting the taxi. You see Haseul step out of the vehicle in full nude, the neighborhood isn’t that packed with houses spaced far enough apart from each other but hopefully a neighbor or two gets a nice show of a busty woman running up to your house.

Haseul tries to greet you with a warm smile but the disappointment on your face makes her want to ball up in shame. You take her bag and throw it across the room, Haseul’s face is full of fear, not from the potential damage to her belongings but with how you stare her down. You grab her by the neck and pin her against the wall, Haseul immediately starts to choke and her hands involuntarily rise to meet yours but make no attempt to pull you off of her.

“I told you to be here by 5, not 5:30 but 5.” Your free hand rises and comes crashing down straight onto Haseul’s cheek immediately leaving a bright red mark on it. “Master, we—” The back of your hand meets her other cheek, for you it stings a little as you make contact but you’re sure Haseul gets the worse end. “Excuses, excuses, excuses. Don’t you bullshit me with any of that.”

“What’s this?” You point at the word still tattooed to her chest “Can’t even clean yourself properly?” Another offense, another slap. “And you can’t even cum when I ask you to, you’ve disappointed me thrice today, before even setting foot in my place. Three times, Haseul, just be thankful no one else is around or else I would have sent you away by now.” Another backhand strikes Haseul and tears start to stream down her face. “If you ever disappoint me again today, I’m calling someone else in. I’m gonna tie you up and make you watch as I fuck someone else and call them my favorite toy.”

You let go of Haseul and she crumbles into a sobbing mess on the floor, she kneels and holds onto your legs, crying and begging. “I’m sorry, Master. I-I’ll do anything, be anything. Treat me like a whore, use me how you see fit.” It’s such an empowering feeling having such a respected woman like Haseul be on her knees with her ass hanging higher than her own head and completely belittling herself for your own pleasure.

Haseul stays put, not moving an inch from her position if not told to. You bend down and caress her ass, your hand travels down along her spine and meets her head where you grab a handful of her long black hair and tug her upright. Haseul’s face is such a mess, one side is reddened while the other is slightly bruised.

You pull your pants down and bring your cock out. Before Haseul can even ready herself, you’re already pushing yourself past her lips, showing no remorse as you completely sheathe yourself in her mouth. Haseul chokes and gags repeatedly, spewing spit out of the corners of her lips faster than tears can come out of her eyes.

You grip the sides of Haseul’s head and repeatedly slam her face against your pelvis, she coughs every time you hilt and it’s just one of the most pleasant sounds you’ve heard all day. You don’t stop to even consider her well-being, not even giving her a chance to adjust herself or at least prepare, sometimes you even forget that the thing you’re using is less of a thing and more of a living breathing human-being.

Haseul keeps eye contact with you, through the pain, through the tears, her stare says a lot. Her stare tells you to keep going, to not stop, to give her the punishment she deserves.

There’s no love, no care, no sympathy, no passion that goes into every shove you make against the back of her head. It’s all just anger and lust powering your hands and hips, just all the stress and sexual aggression expressed with the way you make Haseul take your entire length inside of her mouth. However, it’s not enough, you need more, Haseul needs more. Simply using her head like your own personal fleshlight isn’t enough, not degrading enough, not dehumanizing enough. This isn’t even entirely a punishment, it’s just one of Haseul’s many duties as a toy dialed up to an 11.

You pinch her nose closed and Haseul’s teary eyes begin to resonate with fear once more. Instantly you begin to feel her throat tighten as she struggles to breathe through her mouth. She tries to breathe in some air when your cock has mostly gone out of the way but then you just thrust in again while Haseul is inhaling and she chokes more intensely than before. You didn’t think her mouth could have been any better but here you are now, enjoying the best blowjob you’ve had in a while from someone nearly about to pass out.

Haseul lightly taps on your leg to give some warning but rather than slow down you just speed up, giving her less room to get oxygen. You begin to feel the rise of an overpowering sensation but at the same time you start to see Haseul’s eyes slowly closing. You quickly pull out and Haseul heavily gasps for air, mouthing a silent “Thank you” as she looks at you with grateful eyes.

After a few huffs you thrust back inside while Haseul’s in the middle of taking in some air. She chokes uncontrollably and it only serves as intense pleasure for you as her throat constricts you harder than any other body part of hers could manage. You pinch her nose again while keeping your other hand firmly on the back of her head. You start to thrust your hips in time with each slam of her head, ridding whatever sense of care you have left for her. With the added pressure around your girth it didn’t take long for you to start erupting inside Haseul, the first few bursts went straight down but you made sure that the rest pools up on her tongue.

You pull yourself out and Haseul collapses again, this time on her side. She holds her neck as she coughs wildly, spilling a lot of spit and cum in front of her. After, she lays quietly on her side, mouth open, drool dripping, making an absolute mess on your pristine floor. You grab Haseul’s bag and rummage through her belongings to find her phone then you start taking pics of her pathetically lying on the ground. “Aww, look at you, so pretty down there.” You then get close to her face and take close-up shots of her disheveled face with all the different liquids covering it. “This one looks perfect,” you say as you change her wallpaper to one of the pictures you’ve taken, replacing the one from the previous session which was her mouth full of piss. You take a few more pictures of Haseul from different angles before putting her phone aside.

Finally done with your fun, you nudge Haseul with your foot, “Get up, clean your mess.” However, Haseul doesn’t budge so you tap her with your foot again, “I said clean your mess, don’t make me ask a third time.” You can tell that she’s listening to you with the way she tries to move her body but fails to find the strength to move. Growing impatient, you take matters into your own hands. You roll her over on her stomach and press her face against the cold tile, immediately you can hear her mouth sucking away at the spill she has created.

As you leave Haseul to work like a makeshift vacuum, you kneel and turn your attention to hear rear, raised high up to be presented just for you. Her legs shimmer under the light, covered in a fresh coat of her own juices, you glance and confirm a wet stain on your floor where she once knelt. You slide two fingers across her slit and gather up her nectar. You give it a little lick then give an unamused sigh, it’s still that same salty taste with a bit of sweetness. Not nearly as delicious as any of the others you have tasted, maybe you should start controlling her diet too, you make a mental note for yourself for the future

“You haven’t came yet, right Haseul?” you ask as you stick the same two fingers inside her cunt, Haseul squirms at the sudden invasion of her entrance. “N-No, Master,” she momentarily stops cleaning the floor to answer, there’s a hint of hope in her voice, perhaps longing to finally climax ever since her escapade in the taxi. But you have no plans for that, instead you push her head back down, “Keep it that way. Since your pussy has disappointed me already today, I think I’ll use your ass. If you cum before I do, well let’s just say I won’t be happy about it.” You give her a spank as you chuckle, a sick and twisted game for you to enjoy and for her to suffer through. Haseul’s body tenses up and her rim puckers as you mention the last line, she was close to release prior to her arrival so keeping it in for longer would be a pain. “Yes, Master, I will.” The pain and sadness is evident in her voice, trying her best to keep it together.

You line yourself up and instantly push through into her sphincter, the two of you groan out loud as it proves harder to penetrate Haseul’s ass this time around. You can feel Haseul tightening herself up, creating a grip so strong it rivals that of her air-deprived throat. Continue to push, dig your fingers into her flesh as you pull her hips towards you. Grunt as every inch gets slowly devoured by her ass, slowly but surely you make your way deeper and deeper until you feel her skin touch with yours. It feels tighter than her mouth but that’s all it’s got going for it, doesn’t have the choking sensation of her throat, the wet and rough feeling of her tongue, or the warm embrace of her lips. If you could fuck her face the way you did earlier all the time then you would do it but what you want is to harm her, not impair her.

You keep yourself still and bask in the effort of Haseul squeezing herself around you but other than that, there’s nothing else except for the sounds of heavy breathing. You tug on Haseul’s hair and lift her up, on the floor remains some of the mess she had made prior but regardless it remains. You pull her so that your mouth can reach her ear then you whisper, “Didn’t I tell you to clean that up already?” You lick the back of her ear then bite on it, Haseul shouts in pain, if you bit any stronger you probably would have made it bleed. “Y-Yes, Master. I’m sorry, I will do my job,” she says frantically. You slowly lower her but halfway down you let go and let her fall, Haseul barely catches herself just in time to not faceplant on the ground.

As she starts lapping the floor up like a thirsty dog, you feel her ass unclench every now and then. It seems like having her focus split between a degrading task and a mind-numbing condition is too much for her to handle all at once.

You begin to slide out slowly, then back in, then out, then in. Finding a relaxed pace to start with, you aren’t entirely cynical, you want to see Haseul succeed in at least one task you’ve assigned her. You continue to pace your cock in and out of her ass while listening to a cycle of moans, heavy breaths, and sucks coming from way below you.

Sing a tune in your head, gauge the passing seconds. Count the time in your head but without a clock you couldn’t really be truly sure, has it been a minute? Maybe two? Three? Did you sing too fast? Too slow? Regardless you start counting down from sixty, mentally giving Haseul one last minute to see if she can do it. You’re rooting for her, really, it’s a little sad seeing Haseul fail so many things in so little time, it’s unlike her. As much as she voices out how much she deserves punishment, she much prefers serving and obeying every command and order you give her.

“Five… four… three… two… one…” Time is up for your human mop. You pull out completely then tug her hair back forcefully. You look over her shoulder to assess the floor, you’re happy to see that it’s clean—but as you look closely, you see just a few drops of white still staining the ground. Haseul gasps as she notices it too, you turn to her and she breaks down crying. “I-I’m sorry, Master, I failed you. I don’t mean to disappoint you like this, p-punish me, hurt me… I-I deserve this for being so useless.”

You smile as you hear the sweet and delicate words escape Haseul’s lips, it really is an invigorating feeling, having all this power over someone, having so much influence over her that even simple changes in your expression can make or break her.

You let go of Haseul and stand. Unprompted, she turns around and kneels by your feet, a predicament she’s found herself countless times in the past that she no longer needs to be told what to do. She keeps her hands on her lap, her eyes closed, and her face pointing up at you.

You had a different plan in mind for her but this alternative would suffice, you wouldn’t turn down such an offer especially when it’s presenting itself like that, only a madman would pass up such an opportunity. And besides, nothing wrong with giving a little something extra. After all, it wouldn’t hurt anyone—well, anyone besides Haseul.

You cup the side of Haseul's face, soft and delicate to the touch, pristine skin ruined by hints of abuse made by you and you’re only going to make it look worse. It’s a shame really, a pretty and elegant face like hers reduced to an outlet of anger and disappointment. But you couldn’t really care less, in fact it uplifts you to see such beauty defiled and you take immense pleasure being the sole cause of it.

Haseul’s breath begins to hitch, the anticipation getting the best of her, a torture in and of itself. She’s not used to this, having your hand be this close to her face without even as much as a sting let alone having it be touched so gently. You can’t help yourself, normally she’s a crying and begging mess by now but that extra second of staring at her makes you pause in your tracks. You feel your heart skip a beat as both your hands move to touch her face, brushing her cheeks, fixing stray hairs, wiping away spit and sweat. Haseul opens her eyes, staring back with a mixture of hesitation and awe.

“Master—” Inquisitive and confused, Haseul looks at you like you’re a complete stranger “—please, punish me.” Her words bring you out of your daydream, slightly tearing something within you in the process, a part of you that you never knew existed in the first place. Haseul doesn’t want love or affection, she’s here to atone for her sins, to serve her master, to look up to someone much higher than her. For a second you lost track of that, for a second you saw her in a different light, saw yourself in a different light. But no, that’s not what you’re here for nor is it what she’s here for.

You shrug off all unwanted feelings and focus back on the matter at hand. Though you hesitate, your brief moment of longing strikes weakness in you. Haseul begs with her eyes as she kneels on the ground, awaiting the punishment that you’re becoming too scared to give. Haseul takes your hand and puts it on her cheek. “Master, please.” You close your eyes as you wind your arm back, channeling your energy as you take a swing at Haseul’s face. Your hand connects and the slap echoes in the vicinity, you open your eyes to see Haseul with a bright red mark on her, crying silent tears as she continues to present her face. A part of you dies but another feels alive, the surge of adrenaline rushing through your body as you savor the sight beneath you. You take your arm back again, this time without hesitation, and deliver another slap right in the same spot, Haseul’s cheek glowing red from the harsh treatment.

You turn her around and kneel behind her, quickly resuming your position earlier—a hand gripping the roots of her long hair and another at her side. You put Haseul’s arms behind her back then outstretch your arm so that she’s right above the spot she missed on the floor, a constant reminder of her failure just staring her in the face. You line yourself back up to her rear entrance, “Remember, don’t cum before I do.” Haseul frantically nods her head as best she could, even before you finished your sentence, wanting to just get it out of the way and straight to the action.

The remainder of Haseul’s spit that coated your cock has long dried out by now, but that’s not really a problem for you to deal with.

You spread one of her cheeks as much as you can to see the ever familiar hole looking at you and to make it easier for the both of you. Her rim already looks a little sore and red, you plan to make that better. Again, the initial push has some troubles as Haseul clenches herself, this time however, you aren’t going to go that easy on her.

You push inside slow and steady but once the head has fully disappeared, you ram the rest of your length inside of her ass. The dry friction of her anal walls makes you groan but that doesn’t compare to what Haseul is feeling. Her scream almost splits your ears as you plunge your entirety within her. Her whole body tenses up from how sudden it was, you give her half a second to adjust before pulling out just enough then ramming back in. Out and in, out and in, out and in, only this time you’re going much harsher, much harder, much faster. Reducing Haseul to mere grunts and moans as her dry entrance greedily hugs you.

Only after a while does Haseul find her voice again. “It hurts! Y-Yes, yes, yes, fuck! Harder… harder, Master. Make it hurt more. Punish me like the bitch that I am!” The words just flow naturally out of her, profanities, moans, and whatever other degrading name just spew out of her mouth like it’s nothing. Haseul is truly in her element—pain and punishment, nowhere else have you seen her with such drive and energy.

You do as requested, digging your digits into her side as you pound her hard. However, you find your grip rather unsatisfactory, with one hand holding her head up, having just one on her hip isn’t doing the job you want it to do. You adjust higher and higher on her body until your hand is pulling down on her shoulder. Your nails dig into her skin and your hand grips the base of her hair with all your might, each earning their own screams of pleasing pain from Haseul.

Haseul’s in her element, perhaps a little bit too much. You start to notice her letting loose and succumbing to the pain and pleasure. Her ass adjusts and unclenches while her body goes limp and surrenders its weight to your hands. You aren’t even close to cumming yourself, you can only imagine where this will end up.

“I’m so close… Master, I’m so close, please…” In between moans, Haseul utters breathless warnings of her coming orgasm. You try to open your mouth but by then it’s too late, before even a single sound escapes from your lips, Haseul’s has made plenty. “FUCK! Oh, fuck! Master… I’m… ahhh—“ Her legs quiver and give way, leaving her entire weight to be held up through your two hands on her upper body.

Another mess on your floor, another order disobeyed, another punishment waiting to be given.

You pull out then pull Haseul by her hair towards you, forcing her to kneel down and face you head on. The sudden sharp pain pulls Haseul down from her high and the horror returns on her face. She slowly shakes her head as tears pour down once more, whispering between heavy breaths, “No… please… I’m sorry… Master, forgive me…”

“You can’t cum when I ask you to and then you cum when I tell you not to,” you say disappointedly, you send a quick text on your phone as you shake your head. “How many is that now, five? At least five times you couldn’t do what I told you to do? What happened, Haseul? You were doing just fine yesterday.” You simply sigh at Haseul who looks on with pure terror in her eyes opposing your rather blank stare.

To you it’s all just a game, all just pleasure, but to Haseul it’s way beyond that—it’s worship, subservience, servitude. You couldn’t really care less who is kneeling down in front of you with the multitude of toys that you own but to Haseul, you’re her one and only, the only master she serves, the one she devotes herself to.

“Did you have a change of heart all of a sudden, are punishments the only thing you want now? Because that’s not that hard to give.” Your arm swings wide and your palm connects with her face, so strong it almost toppled her over. “See? It’s so simple. If that’s all you want then all you have to do is tell me, I don’t mind.” Your other arm mimics the same motion, equalizing the redness on Haseul’s cheeks.

Haseul just shakes her head, “N-No, Master. I… I wish to serve and follow you. But… punish me when I deserve it and right now I deserve to be punished, Master.” Haseul closes her eyes and braces herself for another hit which you gladly give, this one stronger than the previous, this one sending her falling to her side. Haseul catches herself then gets back to position, raising her head while on her knees, presenting her face to receive another slap.

Slap after slap befalls Haseul, her cheeks get redder and redder with some parts a deeper shade of red than her pale lips. You’ve lost count of how many slaps you have given by now but it’s gotten to the point where your palms start to sting. But no matter how many times you slap Haseul, no matter how many times she falls down, she remains relentless. Even with tears rolling down her face, Haseul doesn’t hesitate one bit to get back on her knees and present her face. That’s what you love about Haseul, the persistence she has even in the face of pain and disappointment, she keeps pushing through, all just to please you. But unfortunately for her, the amusement you have gotten from her tenacity doesn’t amount to the dissatisfaction she’s earned throughout the few hours you’ve been with her today.

You continue to release your pent up aggression through your palms connecting with her delicate cheeks but no matter how many you’ve given and how many you continue to give, it just isn’t enough. As much as you like to use Haseul as your outlet, the sheer amount of displeasure she’s given doesn’t make it as satisfying for you. No matter how strong or how often, it still never seems to be enough, it’s gotten to the point where the problem has outgrown its source.

You start to wind your arm back when your phone starts to ring. “I wonder who could that be,” you say rather rhetorically with a smirk on your face, the once lifeless and weak Haseul suddenly springs up as she hears the call incoming, dread and anxiety loom over her as the implication of your words mean anything but good news. “I’m sorry, Haseul, but today I’m just starting to doubt you. Thankfully there’s someone here who can help me fix that problem of yours.” You answer and on the screen pops up a very, very familiar face to the both of you.

A/N 2: poll - https://strawpoll.com/xVg7j76vrnr

#kpop #kpop smut #loona #loona smut #haseul #haseul smut #artms #artms smut

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lightsoutletsgo · 3 months

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P L A Y L I S T (cl16 x singer!reader series) vol.4 - monaco

warnings: none

word count: 2.6k

hi everyone! here's the next part! they finally meet in person! I'm really vibing with writing this rn so I have a couple of chapters already drafted so I'm hoping to upload the next few pretty regularly! happy reading love, mimi taglist currently: open! @whatsupstark

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Monaco

Y/N didn’t know much about F1. But as she wandered through the ‘paddock’, as Charles had called it, she found herself being swept up in the hype and excitement. Celebrities mingled amongst team investors and sponsors and mechanics. Already she’d seen a few friends and acquaintances. Y/N stopped suddenly at a call of her name, turning round she saw Charles and a man who she was pretty sure was called Carlos. He was dressed the same as Charles so that seemed like a good indicator. “Y/N!” She couldn’t help the grin that overtook her features and she felt Carlos stare at her knowingly from opposite her. “Charles, hi!” Her answer was breathy as he got closer, stopping just in front of her. Neither of them spoke for a second but both of them could have sworn it was longer than that. ‘God his pictures didn’t do him justice’ she thought as, ‘she’s even prettier up close’, ran through Charles’ mind,

“So are you going to introduce us or…?” Carlos chimed in from next to his friend. Charles cleared his throat as Y/N took a step back, “Uh yes! Carlos this is Y/N.” Y/N smiled at Carlos warmly as he extended a hand for her to shake, “It’s lovely to meet you.” His accent was warm and his face was very handsome. Y/N mused to herself if good looks were also a necessary qualifying trait for F1 too.

“Your concert in Rome was incredible!” Y/N was dragged back to the current conversation by Carlos’ compliments, “Thank you so much! We loved every second of it.” “I know Lily will be so excited to know you’re here today. This way, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Carlos continued as he held his hand out to guide Y/N towards a larger group of people and Charles had to bite back a frown. She was his guest today, he had invited her here so he could get to know her and maybe spend a little time with her. Why did he need to share her with everyone else too? “Are you not coming with us Charles?” Y/N’s sweet voice and concerned look made his tummy flip and he nodded dumbly at her before trudging along behind the pair, ‘there’ll be other opportunities’ he told himself firmly.

“Guys, this is Y/N.” Greetings were exchanged and fangirling was done (though Lando refused to admit he had squealed when Y/N shook his hand) and before Charles knew it, he was being called to the garage to prepare for the start of the race. “I’m sure Lily will be more than happy to let you hang around with her!” Charles nodded towards Lily who was almost vibrating where she stood. Your face fell ever so slightly, “Oh… Yes of course, thank you.” “Is that okay? I’m sorry I can’t stay longer.” “No no it’s okay! I uhhh…” She trailed off, “I guess I’d just hoped that I’d be able to watch it from the Ferrari garage?” Charles felt himself turning as red as his Ferrari team uniform at her confession and he nodded, his tongue feeling heavy, “That’s more than okay, yeah that’s cool... dude,” He gave her a thumbs up and immediately facepalmed mentally. He cringed as he heard Lando snort from behind him and saw Max cover his mouth to hide a laugh out of the corner of his eye. “I-I’ll walk you there.” Charles strolled with her through the paddock, doing his best to pretend that Carlos was not tagging along behind them. She asked him questions as they walked; how long was the race? Was he nervous about today? Did he think it was going to rain? How fast would he be going? Charles answered each one with careful thought and consideration and he felt his heart swell a little at the way she took such genuine interest in him and his job.

“Well, here we are!” Charles led her into the Ferrari garage, greeting each team member he passed and wishing them good luck for the race. Y/N smiled at the interactions, clearly Charles was a kind person. Something fluttered in her tummy as she saw his dimples appear again and again. He handed her a pair of headphones and helped her find a place in front of several large screens. “Have a good race!” She said enthusiastically before cringing internally, “sorry I don’t know what you usually say before a race… I'm guessing I shouldn't really tell you to break a leg…” Charles’ head tipped back as a full laugh came from deep in his tummy. God she was adorable, “Just good luck is enough!” As he turned to leave for the grid, he suddenly stopped at the feeling of her hand gently taking his wrist. “Charles!” His eyes flitted down to look for a second before he looked up at her, she hesitated for a second and he watched as a look of realisation flashed across her eyes before she was dropping his wrist and stuttering out her next words, “I-I just wanted to say… umm…” He took a step towards her, “Yes?” “Drive safely? Please?” A soft smile spread across his face and those damn butterflies were taking flight in her tummy once more. “Always.” He gave her hand a squeeze for reassurance before he was swallowed up by the bustling garage and out of sight.

Y/N’s lack of F1 knowledge was showing as she did her best to follow along with the race. Part of her wondered if she should have gone with Lily after all. It may have been easier to follow along with her experienced commentary, but Y/N was glad she’d chosen to support Charles a bit more closely. After all, she was his guest. As she watched the cars lap the track again and again she thought back to their conversations. How he’d, albeit quite awkwardly, flirted with her. He’d made her smile that was for sure. Even through the exhaustion of the tour, she’d found herself staying awake a little later just to reply to him. So naturally when he’d invited her to be his guest at Monaco this weekend, how could she say no?

She watched the screen intently, eyes searching for a red car with each new camera angle. Once or twice she sensed the TV cameras on her, ready to catch her reactions and so she did her best to appear smiley and calm, despite feeling nervous at her surroundings but also nervous for Charles.

78 laps later and the race was finished. Y/N didn’t know much about F1 but she knew that 6th wasn’t a bad place to be… it just wasn’t the result Charles wanted. She felt bad for him, having sensed through their conversations that week that he added extra pressure onto himself when he raced at Monaco. She understood, she alwasy felt more pressure when performing at home too. Nevertheless she was waiting there for him with a smile when he reached the garage. “Congratulations!” Charles gave a small smile but she could tell he wasn’t feeling as good as he had before the race. “Thank you.” “Well you didn’t crash so I’d say you did a good job! I doubt I could even manage the simplest corner!” Another smile pulled at his lips this time, more genuine. She could tell even after a short while of talking to him when his smiles were genuine or not. His dimples were always deeper and his eyes a lot brighter. “So what happens now?” Charles inhaled before letting out a heavy sigh, “I have a few interviews and then debrief before we pack up and do it all again somewhere new next week!” She giggled, “Sounds just like tour!” Y/N joked before Charles bit his lip, suddenly turning nervous “Hey uhhh, I have to go and do these interviews but if you want, we could… maybe go and get dinner later? I can take you to Lily so you don’t have to hang out alone!” Y/N was silent, Charles felt himself growing embarrassed, “But if you’re busy it’s fine I totally get it and-” “No no! I would like that…” Y/N nodded as she bit her lip shyly, her head dropping to look at her feet as Charles nervously brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck.

Acorss from them at the entrance of the garage, Lando and Max stood in conversation with Carlos, all three of them watching the pair intently, “I bet you 50 they’re together by the time we get to Silverstone.” Max nodded completely convinced he was right, “Silverstone? Nahh mate, more like Canada…” Lando said assuredly, “You’re both wrong!” Carlos shook his head, crossing his arms as he leant against the wall, “End of the season.” He said confidently. “End of the season?” Lando raised an eyebrow as Max scoffed, “They’re both two blind idiots with feelings.” Carlos justified, “You have a point…” Max conceded.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably as she felt someone’s eyes on her, looking around she spotted Carlos, Lando and Max and she felt her cheeks get warm as she realised they’d been staring at her and Charles. Charles followed her gaze and rolled his eyes, “Just ignore them, I think they’re still a little starstruck. Shall we go? I’ll drop you off at Williams on my way.” The pair made their way out of the garage and down the pitlane to the Williams garage. Lily smiled warmly at Y/N as she made her way through the circus of mechanics and engineers and higher ups, “I’ll look after her, don’t worry” Lily sent her a wink which made her giggle, feeling less nervous about not having Charles around. She turned and he smiled at her reassuringly, “I’ll be back in a little bit - I’ll come and find you outside hospitality!” Y/N nodded before turning back to Lily who still seemed a little dazed that she was standing next to her. “I’m so glad you managed to come to the concert!” Lily smiled widely, “It was incredible! I think a few of us are going to go to a few more concerts before the season is over!” Y/N laughed as Lily led her out of the garage and towards hospitality, “You know, I was pretty surprised that Charles decided to join us.” “Oh really?” Y/N said taking a seat with her at one of the tables outside, “Yeah, he’s probably admitted this himself but he had no idea who you were when you guys first met…” Y/N giggled as Lily shook her head good-naturedly, “it’s crazy how you guys bumped into each other like that twice!” “I know!” Y/N’s eyes widened “Did you talk about it with him at all?” Lily asked curiously before Y/N nodded,

“We did actually! He apologised for not recognising me and assured me he wasn’t trying to kidnap me!” She said with a fond smile, “And I apologised that I’d scared him so much - twice!” The two girls collapsed into fits of giggles before Y’N’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Can I ask you something?” Lily nodded, “Is it true he kept googling all the lyrics through the concert?” Lily let out a loud laugh as Alex and Logan approached the table, “What’s so funny?” Alex asked, taking a seat, “Y/N was just asking me about Charles googling the lyrics at the concert, “How did you hear about that?” asked Logan, “Oh I see everything on twitter,” Y/N said with a smirk, “my fans keep me very well informed!” Lily gasped, “Does that mean you’ve seen the videos of me crying and dancing along?” Alex snorted as Logan coughed to cover up a laugh, both of them remembering how the sight had looked in-person right in front of their eyes. Y/N nodded, her face turning solemn as she placed a hand on Lily’s shoulder seriously, “I’m so sorry Lily but… I don’t think we have a space for you as a backup dancer on this tour.” Lily played along, looking down and clasping her hands together as her eyebrows furrowed, “It’s a brutal industry…” The table fell into laughter before Y/N saw Charles approaching.

“What are we all laughing about, hmm?” Charles was curious as he reached the table, “Oh we were just discussing the outcome of Lily’s audition.” You nodded, face becoming serious once again, “It wasn’t the outcome she wanted…” “I just can’t believe my dancing wasn’t good enough.” “Dancing? Is that what you’d call it?” Alex gave Lily a playful nudge as she gasped dramatically, “Y/N you see how mean he’s being?!” Charles gently placed a hand on her shoulder before leaning down to stage whisper dramatically, “We should leave before this gets nasty!” With a stifled giggle, YN stood up from her chair, making sure to give Lily a hug and exchange her number before following Charles away from the business of the paddock and down a small quiet side street.

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked, looking around as she took in her surroundings, “There’s a great spot I know a little out of town. It’s kind of a hole-in-the-wall place but they make some of the best pasta I’ve ever had.”

“Pasta? Sign me up!” Y/N gave an enthusiastic reply as Charles unlocked his car, taking her bag from her shoulder and holding it as he opened her door for her. She slid into the passenger seat and took her bag back, placing it on her lap as he closed the door and jogged round to the driver's seat. As he turned on the engine and the car roared into life, the sound system came on automatically. A familiar voice drifted out through the speakers and a rhythm that her body knew by heart filled the car. “I-is this my song?” Charles found his cheeks matching the colour of his team brand once more as he scrabbled to mute the volume but just turned it up louder in the process Y/N clapped a hand over her mouth, looking at him, as she began giggling harder than she had all day. “I was just… it was… research?” Charles scrambled for an excuse as Y/N continued giggling, hand falling away from her mouth as her head tipped back in laughter. And as they sat there in his car, her song still quietly playing in the background, Charles realised he didn’t mind embarrassing himself and would happily make a fool of himself over and over again if it meant he got to see her laughing like that once more. “No no no, don’t be embarrassed.” Y/N sighed, her stomach sore from laughter, “I think it’s cute you were researching.” Charles’ cheeks heated up again, ‘she called me cute?’ he screamed at himself in his head. “Okay, honestly? I haven’t been able to get that song out of my head since I heard it at the concert, it’s really catchy!” Y/N nodded, “It gets stuck in my head too sometimes - and it’s my song!” “It’s definitely one of my favourites.” Charles admitted and Y/N found herself having to look out of the window to hide how big her smile was. Charles cleared his throat, “So! Shall we go?” He began to drive, fighting to contain his excitement that you were in the passenger seat, “Don’t go driving as fast as you did earlier!” Y/N joked, Charles smiled, eyes darting to look at her for a second before fixing his gaze back on the road once more, “Never. Not when I have such precious cargo in the passenger seat.” Y/N bit her lip and looked out of the window once more, but Charles could tell she was smiling to herself, he caught it in her reflection in the window.

It suddenly dawned on him as they drove that he didn’t feel as down as he expected to after the race. In fact, he rather felt like he’d won.

₊˚❀.ೃ࿔*:･

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#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ playlist series #mimi.writes #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 fic #f1 smau #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc instagram au #f1 series #charles leclerc series #charles leclerc fluff #f1 fluff #Spotify

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charlottesbookclub · 3 months

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like real people do (alistair x reader) 💜💜

Summary: honestly there's no real plot, just pure fluff. Alistair tries to adjust to having a human mate, and he's trying really hard 🥹

Warnings/Tags: gn!reader, mention of skipping a meal (not intentionally), mentions of eating, Alistair being awkward and a bit rude lol, basically just pure tooth-rotting fluff, but as always, let me know if I've missed anything!

Words: 1,634

Author’s Note: me, writing a twilight fanfic in the year of our lord 2024? it's more likely than you think. uhhh yeah I have no real explanation for this except that I have stumbled back into my Alistair obsession and I just wanted to write a cute little something for him. I don't think this is my best work, but at least it made me smile, so that's something. honestly I have no idea if there's anyone else out here reading fanfic for an incredibly minor twilight character, but if there is, I hope you enjoy whatever this is! I was thinking of making this a little series of Alistair trying his damndest to figure out human stuff, so do let me know if you have any interest in that. but okay I'll stop rambling now - enjoy! 💖

A message pinged through on your computer, and you looked away from your work for a moment, pulling up the chatbox. It was Lucy from the front desk:

hey – someone’s here to see you

who?

hard to describe – and i’m having a hard time getting his name

You chuckled softly to yourself, having a sneaking suspicion you knew exactly who it was. Odd that he would willingly put himself in a situation that forced him to speak with other people though. Your laughter turned into a small frown as you considered the fact that something might be wrong. You and Alistair hadn’t been together long, but you knew about his aversion to others well enough to wonder what could bring him into proximity of the possibility of needing to engage in small talk.

be right there

You pushed back from your desk and hurried down to the lobby. Lucy was obviously waiting for you to arrive, and she met you with a mildly panicked look, gesturing with her head toward the tall man standing awkwardly in the corner of the lobby. Thanks to his heightened senses, he had noticed your arrival long before Lucy, and was already striding across the floor toward you at a pace that was just barely slow enough to be considered human. You made a mental note to ask Carlisle to gently review normal human behaviors with him. You just managed to give Lucy a quick thumbs-up to indicate that you knew the tousled man before he bustled the two of you back toward your office.

“Alistair, what the hell?” you asked as he ushered you inside and closed the door behind him.

“What a truly awful system,” he muttered to himself, clearly continuing a rant he was already halfway through rather than answering your question. “I mean really, how many idiots should I have to go through to see my partner?” You just crossed your arms and leaned back against the edge of your desk, a bemused smile starting to fight its way onto your face. You knew it was no use interrupting him until he had gotten everything out. “’Would you like something do drink?’” He parroted Lucy’s question mockingly. “No I bloody well would not – unless you’ve got a few bags of blood stored away back there,” he retorted to this fictional Lucy sarcastically. “Zounds, how hard is it to just point me in the right direction and leave me in peace?” His words faded into muttering and soft curses in a version of English that hadn’t been spoken for hundreds of years.

“Alistair,” you said quietly, breaking him out of his monologue. His talking to himself had seemed strange at first, but the more you learned about his life before meeting you, the more it made sense. He had been his only company for so long and was only now slowly adjusting to speaking with other people again. You, however, found it incredibly endearing and hoped he didn’t break himself of the habit completely.

His focus snapped to you instantly when he heard your voice, and he started murmuring apologies that you quickly brushed off.

“Alistair, it’s fine,” you assured him, sending him a warm smile and softly placing your hand on his forearm. Touch was another thing that was coming back to him only slowly. You had learned to proceed cautiously, gently, making sure he knew that you were about to touch him before making contact. The words stilled on his lips as his eyes focused in on the place where your warm palm met his cold skin.

“Alistair,” you said quietly after a moment of letting him adjust to the contact. His eyes traveled back up to your face at the sound of his name on your lips. “Is something wrong?”

“I—no,” the words tumbled out awkwardly, and you could almost see him trying to say three different sentences at the same time. If he still had blood under his skin, you were certain he would be blushing. Knowing that eye contact made conversation even more difficult for him, you flicked your eyes down toward your hand still on his arm, gently pulling it from where it hung limply at his side. You cradled his large hand in both of yours and began tracing mindless patterns on his skin, hoping this would give him enough of a reprieve to gather his thoughts. He took a deep breath and tried again.

“Nothing is seriously wrong, but I— well I… worried about you.” This instantly caught your attention, and you looked up again almost without thinking, only to find his ruby eyes gazing back down at you with a softness you were just beginning to recognize.

“Alistair, I promise, I’m just fine,” you assure him.

“But… well… I noticed you didn’t eat breakfast this morning.” You tilted your head, wondering why that was such a cause for concern that he would willingly subject himself to the horror of checking in at your work.

“I was just running a little late and didn’t have time to make myself anything,” you explained, hoping that would ease his mind, “there’s always snacks in the break room, so I figured I’d have something when I got here.”

“I understand, but humans in your age group are supposed to eat three balanced meals per day, with the addition of one to three snacks. Lack of nutrients can result in many deficiencies, which in turn can lead to side effects like headache, dizziness, and trouble concentrating.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that was growing on your face as you listened to him recite this knowledge as though he had memorized it straight from a Wikipedia article. However, you seriously doubted Alistair’s ability to navigate the internet, since Carlisle had only recently convinced him to try using a flip phone.

“Where did you hear about this?” you asked, trying to remain serious and stifling the giggles that were rising in your throat.

“I’ve been reading Carlisle’s medical texts,” he responded with a furrowed brow, “I want to make sure I understand all the risks and ensure that I am prepared for every eventuality.”

If you hadn’t been completely in love with him yet, this would have undoubtably sealed the deal. He may be awkward and eccentric and even difficult at times, but he was trying so so hard to care for you in the best way he knew how. Although the whole situation was still incredibly amusing, you simply couldn’t bring yourself to laugh at him, even if it was all in affection. Instead, you raised yourself slowly to your tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you for thinking of me,” you said as you lowered yourself back onto your heels. Your chaste kiss seemed to have frozen him for a moment, as he stood there completely still, his soft squeeze of your hand the only indicator that he was still present in the room. You let him recalibrate, and as he came back himself, he made a soft exclamation as though he had just remembered something. Reluctantly releasing your hand, he swung a small backpack off his shoulder.

“I brought you some breakfast,” he explained as he pulled a jumble of containers out of the bag and placed them on your desk, “I tried to make sure I balanced all the proper nutrients to ensure you wouldn’t suffer any adverse effects from not having eaten this morning.”

You busied yourself with looking at all the containers of food to hide the tears that were welling in your eyes. You had never had someone care for you so completely like this before. Unfortunately, your plan didn’t work, since the awkwardly yet earnestly prepared food only brought more tears to your eyes. You had never expected that strangely cut fruit, mangled pancakes, and soggy cereal sitting in its own milk would make you cry with joy, but the amount of thought and care that had clearly gone into each piece of the meal was about to reduce you to ugly sobs.

You could feel Alistair watching you intently as you opened each of the containers, seemingly trying to gauge your response. When he couldn’t bear it any longer, he finally broke the silence.

“If you don’t like it, I—I’m happy to go out and buy you something. I haven’t had human food in so long and even—even then I didn’t actually prepare it so I tried reading some of Carlisle’s recipe books but I think I still didn’t get it right—”

“Alistair,” you didn’t normally like to cut him off, but you refused to let his anxious rambling sew any seeds of doubt in his mind. “It’s absolutely perfect – I can’t wait to taste it all!”

Alistair beamed at you then, a rare sight, but a welcome one.

“I just have one question though,” you said, and he looked at you quizzically, waiting for your inquiry. “Can I give you a hug?”

Confusion turned to elation on his face, and he spread his arms in assent and anticipation. You threw yourself on him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you wiped away a few escaped tears. His arms closed around your back hesitantly, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them, but his uncertainty seemed to fade as you melted into his grasp, and he wrapped you even more tightly in his embrace.

Both of you were smiling when you finally pulled away. You settled into your desk chair and motioned to Alistair to pull up another. He sat just close enough that your knees could touch as you surveyed the feast before you.

“What do you think I should start with?” you asked him.

“Maybe the pancakes? I’m rather proud of those.”

#charlotte writes #also how do i tag for this man bc we don't know his last name??? 😭😭#alistair #twilight #alistair twilight #alistair twilight imagine #alistair twilight x reader #alistair breaking dawn #twilight alistair imagine #alistair imagine #alistair x reader #twilight alistair #alistair nomad #nomad alistair #twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #twilight alistair x reader

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arvandus · 11 months

Text

Touch Chapter 16 - A Night Out

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!AFAB!Reader

**18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI**

OVERALL FIC WARNINGS: Soft!Dabi, Fem!AFAB!Reader with a fictional backstory, fanon version of past events (I started this before the canon stuff dropped), manga spoilers, canon deviation, drug abuse/withdrawal (with inaccuracies since it’s outside of my experience and relies on research and imagination), violence, heavy angst, past trauma/abuse, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, hurt/comfort, pining, slow burn, eventual emotionally charged SMUT, all characters will be written with complexity (i.e., no one-dimensional/hateful representations). *please pay attention to specific warning tags within each chapter!*

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Drinking. Lots of drinking (both Dabi and reader). Overall drug themes apply; bar scene/club scene (look, we get to have some FUN in the chapter, OK?? We deserve it!)

Chapter Songs: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys/All I Need by Radiohead

Part 1 Part 15

Chapter 16: A Night Out

You were in the hideout briefly. Dabi changed into his more preferred attire of his stitched jacket, matching pants, and boots. He was free of his mask and his sunglasses now, and you were grateful to finally be able to see his face again. His blue eyes looked at you with mirth when he showed up at your bedroom door. You handed him your pills and he downed them with water before crinkling the bottle and tossing it into your trash can.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Do you need me to touch up your scars first?” you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.

The ‘yes’ hung on the edge of Dabi’s tongue, the desire for relief always present, but this time he swallowed it. Wherever he was taking you, he didn’t want your sensory overload to be an issue.

“I’m fine,” he replied.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Uh-huh... you know, that word doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

“It means that I’ve got it under control.”

You pursed your lips and looked down at your attire. It was the same one you’d been wearing earlier: jeans, a shirt, and a jacket.

“Should I change...?” you asked.

Dabi shrugged. “Do you wanna change?”

“Depends. Where are you taking me?”

“Not sure yet.” Dabi looked you over, head to toe, his eyes leaving fire in their wake across your skin. “You look great. Let’s get outta here.”

You were too flustered to argue, so you followed him down the stairs and out the door into the night air. A gentle mist of rain was falling down slowly, coating everything in a diamond dust of dew drops.

“We might get soaked tonight...” you commented.

“You worry too much,” Dabi replied as he put his arm over your shoulder again.

A smirk played at your lips. “And you don’t worry enough.”

Your hand came up to interlock your fingers with his comfortably. Right now, you didn’t want to dwell on what it meant; you just wanted to enjoy the contact that he was suddenly offering so freely.

“Then we’re perfect for each other,” he teased.

Your skin burned hot at his flirting and he glanced at you, taking in the surprised look on your face that you struggled to bury. He smirked.

“Let’s get some dinner first,” he continued. “What d’ya want?”

“What can we afford?”

Dabi flashed the fat wad of cash nestled in the inner coat pocket against his chest. “Whatever we want. My treat.”

Your eyes bulged. “Dabi! Where did you get that??”

Dabi scoffed. “Did ya think I was just checking out your cute ass while I was walking behind you all day?”

“I— What??”

“Gotta make a living somehow, sweetheart. I’m an expert pickpocket, remember?”

You did remember. But right now, Dabi pickpocketing was the last thing on your mind. He was getting under your skin on purpose, and you were enjoying it. It felt like old times, before things had gotten... complicated.

“Pick your poison, doll. What’re ya feelin’?”

“Hmmm... how about sushi?” you suggested.

Dabi grimaced. “Uhhh, gotta confession. I hate fish.”

You laughed. “How can you be Japanese and hate fish? It’s like a cultural staple.”

Dabi wrinkled his nose. “It tastes... fishy. And slimy. And I hate the way it smells.”

You laughed again. “Okay, not sushi then. How about ramen?”

“Didn’t we have that recently? Twice?”

“Yeah, because it’s delicious. I could probably live off ramen, to be honest...”

“Hm.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, smartass, what do you want to eat?”

“I know just the spot. We gotta hop on the bus, though.”

“Lead the way.”

A few minutes later, you stepped off the bus to see a small little restaurant. Its entire front was a large window that was open to the street, with a counter and bar stools attached into the cement. An animated neon sign of a ramen bowl danced on its low roofline.

“I thought you didn’t want ramen?” you asked confused.

“Surpriiise.” Dabi singsonged. You began crossing the street together. “The owner is a bit rough around the edges, and a total alcoholic. But his ramen is the best I’ve had.”

A canopy overhang allowed for protection from the drizzling as the two of you sat down at the counter.

“Oy,” said a gruff voice. You looked up to see an old man with what remained of his hair pulled back into a ponytail and tattoos up to his jaw line. “You again.”

“Long time no see.” Dabi replied.

The man nodded at you. “Who’s this?”

“A friend.”

Your heart sank in your chest at the label, and then you cursed yourself for being an idiot. Of course you were friends. All of this – helping you through your panic attack, letting you lean on him on the ride home, taking you out to get your mind off things... it was Dabi being a good friend.

A friend who held your hand.

A friend who put his arm around your shoulder.

A friend who almost kissed you the night before...

You refocused your attention when Dabi nudged you with his elbow. “Huh??”

“What do you want?” Dabi repeated.

The old man waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, I’ve got just the thing.” Then he set down a bowl of edamame for you to share and immediately began preparing the food.

“Wait, what just happened?” you asked.

Dabi laughed. “You took too long deciding so he decided for you.”

“Oh.”

“You want something to drink?”

You stared at the list of beverages. “Beer. Sapporo?”

Dabi’s grin widened. “Oh, loosening up now, are we?” He put the order in, holding up two of his fingers. A moment later, two tall, ice-cold beer cans were placed in front of you.

You took a sip, letting the carbonation and flavor play on your tongue. You didn’t answer right away, unease swimming in your chest. You took a few more sips.

“Dabi...” you finally probed. He looked at you sideways as he drank. “Why are you doing this?”

What is this to you?

Dabi set the can down and began to fiddle with it, his fingers wiping patterns into the condensation.

“Because I didn’t want to go back there either. We were both stir-crazy in that place. Figured it was time to stretch our legs a little. Tonight should just be about having fun.”

“Well...” you smiled. “If that’s the case, you know what I want?”

Dabi looked at you attentively, his eyes trying to pry the answer before your lips could give it. “What?” he replied.

“I want to get drunk.”

Dabi let out a surprised laugh.

Your grin widened. “Like, stupid drunk.”

“Wasted?”

“Absolutely shitfaced.” You grinned into your beer as you drank more of it down, letting it wash over the knot you felt in your gut.

Dabi laughed again. “I think we can manage that.” He took another swig of his beer. “This’ll be fun...” he muttered.

You didn’t want to think about anything tonight. You didn’t want to worry. And you didn’t want to rehash what had happened earlier during the day. All you wanted was a break, a night to feel like a normal person, to be able to feel like you were a part of the world again.

So, you drank, and laughed, and ate. Dabi was right. It was the best ramen you’d ever had. Thirty minutes later, your stomach was now full and happy, and your veins hummed warmly with the first beer you drank. Just as you finished your can, another took its place.

You stared at it. “What’s this?”

Dabi held up his new can in a toast. “You said you wanted to get wasted. Cheers.”

“Oh God...” you laughed. “But I’m so full...”

“Don’t worry, doll. We got all night.”

“Really?”

Dabi shrugged. “Not unless you got plans with someone else,” he teased.

You laughed. “Trust me, you have nothing to worry about in that department.”

“Not even your dealer friend from earlier?” Dabi prodded curiously.

“Yatsu??”

“You two even have nicknames for each other. How cute.” he commented dryly, his stiff grin never reaching his eyes.

You rolled your eyes. “Uh, nooo.... I mean, there’s history there, but... it’s long past.”

The shop owner refilled the small bowl of edamame. Dabi grabbed one and skinned it with his teeth.

“Yeah?” he said, “I’d be curious to hear that story...”

You laughed. “Not much to it, really... Yatsumoto was interested but I wasn’t.”

“Really?” Dabi’s sarcasm dripped heavy. “An upstanding guy like that?”

“I wasn’t too interested in relationships back then. Very single focused on my research at the time. Besides,” — you took a swig of your drink and then leaned into Dabi, your voice dropping to a whisper — “he’s not really my type.”

You picked up an edamame shell and ate the soybeans from it.

“Oh yeah? What is your type then?”

‘Someone tall, dark, and handsome with the world’s biggest daddy issues.’

You thought it, but didn’t say it.

A grin started on Dabi’s lips, a mischievous glint in his half-lidded eyes. “Maybe someone who’s in horrible need of chapstick?”

Shigaraki instantly came to your mind, and you laughed. You threw the empty edamame shell at Dabi. “What?? No.”

Dabi’s grin widened. “Hmm, maybe someone with a wide variety of personalities...”

“You’re terrible.”

“Or maybe someone who knows magic tricks.”

“Oh my God, no. Compress is like a brother to me, that’s so weird.”

Instant elation filled Dabi’s veins, but he tamped it down, keeping his expression neutral. Instead, he grabbed another edamame. “Coulda fooled me; you two seem close.”

“That’s because he’s the one who recruited me into the League,” you replied. “He saved my life a while back.”

Dabi’s amusement fell apart at this new piece of information. His smirk was gone, his expression neutral.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Not long after I’d been kicked out of the university, my place got broken into. I came home when the robbers were still there, shuffling through my things.” You shuddered at the memory. “They saw me, I saw them, and I ran. They chased me down the stairs and outside... It was Compress who stopped them, popping up out of nowhere. I probably would have been killed if he didn’t show up...”

Dabi’s mind rolled over the information, filing it next to all the other little facts he’d gathered about you.

“Do you know what they were after?” he asked.

A half smile curled your lip that didn’t reach your eyes. “They weren’t going through my bathroom or bedroom looking for jewelry or digging through my bags for cash. One of them had my laptop, and the other was shuffling through papers.”

“They were after your research.”

You snapped finger guns at him. “Bingo.”

Dabi took a long draw of his beer and you followed suit. He stared into the can as he swirled its contents slowly. “So how does your brother fit into all of this?”

You had begun to raise your beer can to your lips, but you hesitated, then lowered it back down to the counter. “He was the reason for my research. I wanted to help him, figure out how to make it so that his quirk couldn’t hurt himself or anyone else ever again. And I needed to prove that he wasn’t a bad person. That it was his quirk manifesting itself, forcing itself to be expressed.”

Dabi stared at you for a long moment. “What was his quirk?”

You hesitated again, and Dabi began to have second thoughts about his questioning. Tonight was supposed to be about having fun, and at this moment, you weren’t smiling. The gentle misting began to transition into heavier drops, the sound drumming on the canopy above you.

Dabi opened his mouth to rescind his question, but you answered before he could.

“Others called it Mind Flay, but he called it Tabula Rasa.”

“Blank Slate,” Dabi hummed. “That doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“It wasn’t,” you replied. “He had the ability to make people literally lose their minds. Like, one moment they’d be themselves, and the next moment, they’d be a dumb, drooling mess. Like he wiped them clean, basically turning them into vegetables.”

Dabi fell silent as his mind ran through the ramifications of such a quirk. “When did it manifest?”

You gave a sardonic laugh. “The same age it did for everyone else; at around 4 years old.”

Dabi let out a low whistle. Kids were small, emotional creatures. A child having that level of power...

Dabi wondered who the first victim was. A family member? A classmate? A teacher?

You drank more of your beer as if it helped you get the words out. “He was older than me,” you explained. “He was in and out of institutions for years, so I didn’t see him very much. My parents put him through every kind of therapy imaginable, every quirk suppression program. They’d think it worked, but then it’d happen all over again. Like he couldn’t help himself. It’d come out when he was angry... or when he was protective...”

You swallowed, and Dabi realized you had tears in your eyes.

“We don’t gotta talk about this.” he said.

You gave a small laugh and wiped at your eyes. “Sorry,” you replied.

Dabi gave a dry laugh. “You did it again.”

“What?”

“Apologized when you didn’t need to.”

“Oh,” you laughed.

Dabi cut you off before the words could fall from your lips again. “Don’t say it.”

You laughed and gave him a light shove. “Get out of my head.”

You were smiling again; and it made the pressure sitting on Dabi’s chest ease slightly.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” he said.

“I don’t mind. I just...” you stared into your beer can. “I might need more alcohol than this if you want to hear the rest.”

Dabi gave a small smile. “I know a place.”

He paid the bill, finished the last of his beer, and the two of you left the protection of the canopy to venture out into the rain. You held onto his arm and pressed yourself against his side against the cold as the two of you made your way down the street. He skipped the first bar, knowing they overcharged for their alcohol, and then ushered you quickly into the next one.

It was busy, a small dive bar packed with bodies, the sound of pool balls being struck at the opposite end of the room. Music played loudly over the speakers, blending in with the hum of multiple drunken conversations. Dabi managed to spot an open bar stool and squeezed you onto it. He remained standing next to you and had to put his mouth to your ear to ask you what you wanted. You had to do the same to answer him, and he leaned across the counter to give your orders to the bartender.

A moment later, your drinks were in front of you.

“Aren’t you worried about being recognized here?” you shouted into Dabi’s ear.

Dabi leaned close to speak. “Nah, not here. This side of town doesn’t give two shits. Half of the people here are wanted by the Hero Commission anyway.” You stared at him with uncertainty, and he leaned in even closer, his hand warm on your back. “You’re safe, doll. I promise.”

So, you sat and drank, the place too loud to carry a conversation. Eventually the seat next to you opened up and Dabi took it.

A couple of drinks later, and you were feeling the effects of the alcohol much more. You felt more liquid than person, and you swayed slightly to the thrumming of music that played over the speakers, barely audible over the din of the space. Dabi watched you silently with a half-lidded gaze, his eyes always observing. You didn’t bring up your brother again, and Dabi didn’t ask, determined to keep the smile on your face for as long as possible.

After a little while, he leaned over to speak to you.

“Do you play pool?” he asked.

“What?”

“Pool.” he repeated.

You looked over at the pool table and noticed it was empty. In fact, the entire bar had a little less people in it, some of the patrons deciding to continue their bar hopping elsewhere. Still, it remained plenty busy, and you knew the table would get snagged up immediately.

Before you could answer, Dabi grabbed your hand and yanked you off the bar stool. Before you got too far, you grabbed your drink from the counter and brought it with you.

You stared at the table in front of you as Dabi grabbed a couple of cue sticks from the wall.

“This is a bad idea,” you chuckled.

Dabi looked up at you as he began setting the balls into the triangle. “Why?”

“Because I’m fucking drunk, Dabi...” you laughed.

“You? Drunk?” he teased. He stepped closer to you and held up his fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

You rolled your eyes. “Three.”

“Eh, you’re fine.”

“Wait, did I get it right??” you asked.

Dabi’s grin widened and he refused to answer. “Do you wanna break or should I?”

“Hm, you go first. I’m waiting for the room to stop spinning.”

“Suit yourself.” Dabi hit the cue ball and the triangle of balls burst in all directions. The purple ball fell into the corner pocket. “You’re stripes.”

You puffed air out of your cheeks and took a sip of your drink for courage. You stepped up to the table, lined up your cue stick, and missed horribly.

Dabi laughed, and you shot him a glare.

“I told you I was too drunk for this.”

“C’mon doll, you’re just a lil’ rusty,” he chided. Dabi lined up his next shot and sank another ball.

“How are you so good at this?” you complained. “And how am I drunker than you??”

“Experience,” he replied.

You mimicked his response with a bratty tone and a scrunched-up face. “Experience. Please.”

You lined up your shot, and this time you hit the ball, but barely, the cue stick sideswiping. It caused the ball to spin off at the wrong angle before bouncing off one of Dabi’s, causing his to roll into the side pocket.

“Hey, thanks for that.” he commented.

“I swear to God, Dabi. If you don’t stop with your commentary, it’s gonna be your balls next.”

Dabi burst into laughter at your empty threat. “Based on your hits tonight, I don’t think I’m too worried about it.”

You gave a shocked laugh. “You’re an asshole.”

“Oh, c’mon doll. Don’t be like that. Tell you what, I’ll give you a free shot.” He coaxed as he leaned on his cue stick.

You narrowed your eyes at him and took your position again. Just as you were about to strike, Dabi interrupted.

“Hold on.”

“What?”

“Your form is all wrong.”

“Shut up, no it’s not.”

Dabi put his hands up in defense. “Okay, sure. Go for it.”

You squinted at him, half to get your vision to focus and half to glare at him. You repositioned yourself again, but now doubt and two failures loomed over you. Finally, you cursed and stood up.

“Damn it. Okay, fine. Show me what I’m doing wrong.”

“You’re not holding your cue stick right,” he commented.

“What do you mean?”

Dabi modeled for you. You tried to imitate, but hand-eye coordination was getting more and more difficult. He chuckled at your attempt and leaned his cue stick against the table. Then he came up behind you, his hands on your hips.

His touch sent a shock of pleasure through you, and you sidestepped out of his hold. “What are you doing??” you demanded, your eyes wide.

“Relax, doll,” he laughed. “I’m gonna help you.”

You let him get in position behind you, his body lining up with yours. You could feel his breath on your ear, and it made every nerve sing at peak frequency. He placed his hands over yours, setting up your hand along your cue stick.

“You hold it like this, and...” -- Dabi slowly moved the stick back and forth within your hands -- “you hit it like this.” He pointed to the middle and the bottom of the cue ball. “You’ll want to hit the ball here or here. Got it?”

You glanced at him, and instantly realized how close his face was to yours, your nose practically brushing his when you turned your head to look him in the eye. His hand was on your waist, and all you could think about was closing the distance to kiss him. But he broke his gaze with you and nodded at the pool table.

“Give it a try.”

Dabi stayed next to you, his body lined up with yours as you lined up your shot and took it the way he showed you. This time, you hit the ball you wanted, but it bounced off the edge, and hit the eight ball.

“Wha... NO!” you yelled as the black ball rolled into a pocket.

That was it. That was the game. Dabi won.

“Wow. That was actually impressive how bad that was.”

You smacked his chest with the back of your hand. “I told you I was too drunk for this.”

“Hey, at least you hit the ball…”

You stuck your tongue out at him and took another sip of your drink. He cocked his head to the side as he looked at you.

“How’re you feelin’?”

“Good,” you replied with a smile.

“Good. Let’s try again.”

“Nooo,” you whined.

“C’mon, don’t be a sore loser. I thought you wanted to have fun,” he teased. “Besides, that was barely a game.”

“Ugh, fine. But don’t they have like... cards here or something?”

“I’d probably win at that too. Something tells me my poker face is better than yours.”

“You are so full of yourself, aren’t you?”

Dabi chuckled as he set up the balls again. “You break this time.”

You lined up your stick and hit the cue ball, sending the balls scattering.

Time passed as you played, Dabi refilling your drink when you asked as you bantered with him between turns. Your skills improved slightly, with Dabi giving you tips here and there. But the progress was hindered by the way you had difficulty focusing and the way your body didn’t always move the way you intended it to. You made it through two games, with Dabi beating you both times before you finally gave up, the floor beneath your feet pitching much more than it had before.

“I quit,” you finally said.

You leaned on your cue stick, your body swaying slightly. Dabi was next to you, so you took the opportunity to lean against his chest to ground yourself. But between the alcohol, stuffy bar, and his body heat, you pushed him away almost immediately.

“Ugh, you’re too hot,” you complained.

Dabi chuckled. “Come on…”

He took you back to the bar and you sat down onto the barstool with less grace than you’d had before. It wasn’t your fault; the damn thing seemed to move. There were no other seats again, so he stood next to you like before.

You laid your head on the counter, letting the cool, smooth surface soothe your forehead.

“She okay?” the bartender asked.

Dabi nudged you. “You okay?” he repeated.

With your head still down, you gave a thumbs up.

“She’s good,” he replied.

You zoned out to the sound of the bar noise and the music playing, your body swaying slightly to the beat. A moment later, a glass of water appeared in front of you.

“What’s this?” you demanded.

“Water, drink up,” Dabi ordered.

You shook your head. “Nuh-uh.”

“Your call... you’re gonna feel like shit tomorrow.”

“Where’s my drink?” you asked, looking around bleary-eyed.

“You finished it.”

“Oh. It was good, can I have another?”

Dabi stared at you for a long moment. Then he pushed the water glass towards you. “Drink, doll. You’ll thank me later. Then I’ll order more.”

You grumbled but drank it anyway. As promised, Dabi ordered you another drink, and you gave a happy wiggle as you began to drink it.

Dabi leaned against the bar counter with his head propped in his hand. He stared at you.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What?”

“I like you like this.”

“What? Drunk?” you teased.

“Happy,” he corrected.

You stilled for a moment as you looked at him.

“It’s because I’m with you,” you confessed.

Your answer seemed to surprise him, his eyes widening slightly as his grin faltered. He gave a scoff. “I’m sure the alcohol is helping too.”

“Shut up and take the compliment,” you retorted. “I’m happy with you. You make me happy.”

Dabi’s cheeks were starting to hurt from how much you were making him grin, the bruise and the torn skin thrumming low. “You’re repeating yourself now.”

“It’s so you’ll listen to me,” you replied adamantly as you took another sip. Your thoughts were more fluid now, your usual filters and reservations carried away on the current of booze in your system.

“I think…” you started thoughtfully, “I thought going back to the hide out would help me feel better. But...”

“But it didn’t.”

You shook your head. “I looked at that place and I just felt... lonely.”

“And you don’t feel lonely now?” Dabi asked.

You shook your head again and leaned against his shoulder. “I feel safe.”

Dabi froze under the contact as your confessions fought with his own denials. You weren’t safe with him. He was unstable and violent and he didn’t deserve your trust.

But you were smiling now, and he couldn’t say that.

He turned his body towards you slightly to put his arm around your shoulders, and you nuzzled comfortably against his chest.

“You ready to go back?” he asked.

“Not yet,” you whined.

“You sure? You’re looking awfully shiftfaced now.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Says the girl falling asleep over her glass...”

You sat up and pushed against his chest with your hands. “Shut up.” Then, your eyes lit up with an idea. “Oh! I know! You know what I want?”

Dabi quirked an eyebrow at you. “More alcohol?”

You pointed at him. “Yes. But also, I want to dance.”

Dabi’s grin vanished immediately. “What??”

“I want to go dancing!” you repeated. “C’mon Dabi, pleeaassee?”

Dabi stared at you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

Dabi was familiar with the club scene. He used to visit it frequently before the League, chasing quick highs and whatever chick would spare him a passing glance in an effort to drown his pain in a few cheap hours of euphoria. He knew just the place to go, a place that was safe for people like him, where they didn’t really care about IDs or police records, where cash and drugs were the only currency that mattered.

But it’d been a long time since he’d been there, and the place was filled with temptations and potential dangers. It was no place for someone like you.

Besides, you already looked ready to fall over.

“I bet you can’t even walk straight.”

“Yes I can!”

“Okay, prove it. If you can walk out of here without help and without bumping into anyone, then I’ll take you dancing.”

It was a tall order as the world tilted on its axis around you, but you were stubborn and determined.

Dancing. To be able to finally move your body, to feel the freedom of music against your skin. You hadn’t realized how wound tight you’d been since you’d lost everything and joined the League. It’d been nonstop healing, and sneaking around, and hiding away. Dancing, even for a little bit, to lose yourself to movement and be just another face in the crowd, sounded like just what you needed.

With determination, you stood up from your stool. The motion instantly made you lightheaded, and you swayed on your feet, balance eluding you. Dabi’s arms were out in an instant, catching you, and you fell against his chest in a fit of giggles.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“No, no,” you giggled. “I can do this.”

“Doll, you already failed the test.”

“Shh!” you put a finger to his lips, but now the giggles had you and you couldn’t stop them.

Dabi’s arms were around your waist as your arms hung around his neck. You swayed in his hold, the motion soothing. Your vision focused on him, and for once you allowed yourself to blatantly stare at his beauty, at the shape of his jaw, the color of his eyes, even the staples along his cheeks. Your thoughts made their way seamlessly from your brain to your mouth.

“You’re really hot,” you cooed.

“Yeah, you told me earlier.”

“No, I mean, like... you’re hot. Like attractive, hot. It’s unfair how hot you are.”

Dabi, for all of his self-control, couldn’t stop the heat from warming his cheeks, and he forced a laugh as he began to untangle your fingers from his neck. The way your eyes were looking at him, the way your tongue peeked out to wet your lips...

“Okay, now I know you’re shitfaced.”

“Shut up, it’s true.”

“Everyone looks more attractive when you’re drunk.”

You looked around at all the other faces at the bar. “That’s not true...” you muttered.

Dabi laughed again while internally his mind was spinning. You were going to be the death of him. God, he wished you were saying this shit while you were sober... he wondered if you’d even remember any of it.

He sighed. “Let’s get you home.”

“But what about the dancing??”

“We’ll have to save it for another time.”

You pouted as Dabi began to lead you out of the bar. The realization that your evening of fun was coming to an end made the weight of dread return to your shoulders. Tears pricked your eyes as you began to leave.

You didn’t want this to end. You didn’t want to stop being with Dabi, spending time with him like this. You didn’t want to go back to that stuffy hotel with your medical bag and PTSD waiting for you.

Once you stepped outside, Dabi let go of your hand and walked ahead of you. The cold night air began to clear your head slightly. Everything was coated in rainwater now as the low, heavy clouds passed over you, painted in the yellowish-brown light of the city; but there was a lull in the rainfall that gave a much-needed reprieve and brought a heavy hush upon the quiet street compared to the boisterous bar inside.

You inhaled the air deep into your lungs, letting the damp crispness cool your blood. You stared ahead of you at Dabi, donned in his black coat, his black hair lit under the streetlamp. He turned to look at you, and for a moment you stood still and stared. He was picturesque, the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

“What?” he asked.

“I...” you swallowed, a million different responses piling onto your tongue at once.

I don’t want to go back.

I want to be with you a little longer.

I want you to kiss me.

I never should have left last night...

God, you cared for him. You cared for him more than you had let yourself realize. But now, here away from the chaos, with your worries subdued under liquor and fresh air, you understood just how incredibly head over heels you were for him. It scared you, because he was not someone you ever thought you’d fall for. He was self-destructive, broken, and single-minded in his obsession. It left little space in his heart for anything else. But he was also intelligent, highly self-aware, and surprisingly kind, in his own way. You’d begun to see a side to him that you hadn’t known existed before, and it was a side that only you ever seemed to witness, something that was reserved special for you. You felt protected by it, cared for. In a world that had tried to erase you, he somehow made you feel... wanted.

All you could think as you stood there unable to answer, was that you wanted to be with him always.

Dabi’s dark brows furrowed and he stepped close to you, his eyes looking over your face through his black bangs. His thumb came up and brushed fresh tears from your cheek.

“Why are you cryin’ again, doll?” His voice was deep, coating you like honey, and you closed your eyes to let it wash over you.

You hadn’t realized you were crying; you hadn’t felt the tears fall, too focused on your emotions as your skin hummed like an aura around you. You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your cheek, even though he’d already lowered his hand.

You shook your head in disbelief. So much you wanted to say, but you couldn’t say any of it. Not without scaring him away. If he learned how deeply you felt about him...

You’re not my type.

You understood those words more clearly, now. It wasn’t that you weren’t his type; it was that Dabi didn’t have a type. He wasn’t someone who would commit, who would settle down. He couldn’t even picture a future for himself beyond taking down his father.

But you didn’t want to face that either, because that train of thought only led to more heartache. What you wanted was to remember the way he put his arm over your shoulder, the way he wiped your tears from your cheeks, from the way he’d hovered over you the night before, his eyes drinking you in as if you were all he wanted. You wanted to hold his hand, to lean against him as you sat together, to bask in his attention a bit longer.

“I...” you started again. “I’m not ready. I’m not ready to go back.”

Dabi stared at you, his expression unreadable, and you could tell he was deciding on what to do next. He looked around, taking in his surroundings, and checked the time on his phone. It was late, but not terribly; there were at least another couple of hours before the public transportation systems shut down for the night.

“You wanna dance that badly?” he asked.

What you wanted was more time to pretend. To pretend that this was more than what it was, to pretend that you were two regular people enjoying each other’s company and seeing where things went without worry or consequence about what sat on the horizon.

“I... I just want a little more time,” you whispered, “to feel normal.”

Dabi stepped even closer, his body inches from yours. His long fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead, his eyes following his action.

“You’re the most normal girl I’ve ever known.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the odd compliment, and Dabi’s lips turned up at the corners slightly.

“If we stay out longer, I might need more of your pills. Do you have any on you?”

You anticipated this possibility and pulled the small Ziplock bag out of your pocket. Dabi took the pills you offered, noting the few remaining. You tried not to stare too intently at the way he placed them onto his tongue and swallowed them, but you were pretty sure you were failing at being discrete.

He put his arm over your shoulder. “Come on.”

Warmth swelled from his touch, and a great wave of euphoric victory washed over you. Your smile came back.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“Dancing.”

Dabi led you towards the train station where he grabbed a quick snack from the vending machine and a drink. Once you were seated in the empty train car, you ate as you watched the city lights pass by. While you watched the city, Dabi watched you. He watched the way your eyes lit up, the longing in them as you looked out at what used to be your home, at a world that you’d been cut off from.

Normal. You wanted to be normal. And Dabi meant what he’d said. You were as normal as they came. You never belonged with the League, but you did it out of necessity. The way you talked about it made it sound like a cage, and the more Dabi thought about it, the more he realized that for you, it probably was.

He wondered what you would be like if you could have your freedom again. If you could exist without fear, without worry, without pain. How much brighter would your smile be? How much happier would you feel? He could picture it; you, successful and happy, with a career, a home, a family... you seemed like the type that would want a family.

But no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t picture himself there with you. His future didn’t hold the potential that yours did, and he didn’t want the things that he assumed you wanted. No matter which way he looked at it, he didn’t belong there, his dark shadow blocking out the light that you desperately needed to flourish.

And yet, for some reason, you always shined brightest when you were with him. You were happiest with him. You’d even said so with your own words. The safety that you’d been seeking before wasn’t at the hotel; it was with him.

His mind and his heart couldn’t reconcile the two realities. They co-existed in his consciousness, yet their edges never touched.

You wanted to feel normal, but Dabi knew that normal would no longer be possible for you. Not after what had happened to you, how they had tried to erase you. There was nothing for you to go back to, not with hero society being what it was, the status quo still locked in place and the people who hurt you still in power.

Dabi mourned his past while you mourned your future.

So, you wanted to pretend tonight. Dabi couldn’t blame you. That’s why he changed his mind, even though discomfort and warning bells nagged at the back of his consciousness. That was why he took your pills so that he could stave off any temptation he might feel once you both reached your new destination. It was the only option available that he had in order to give you want you wanted.

He’d let you pretend. And maybe... just for a little bit... Dabi could pretend too. He could set aside his identities of Dabi and Touya, stashing them away to a deep, dark place inside himself. They would never be gone from him entirely but, maybe tonight, he could quiet their screaming for just a little while. He could pretend, take on a third, unnamed identity. No one important, just some guy having a night out with a girl that he had a crush on.

You stepped off the train with Dabi into a different neighborhood. More bars lined the streets here, more people walked the sidewalks. The heavy thrums of music spilled out of open club doors into the streets where people lined up for entry.

Dabi led you along with his arm over your shoulder, keeping you close to him. It was as if he were making sure you didn’t get separated from him, lost in the throngs of drunken passersby. And it was a good call, too... you were still very much tipsy, your balance uneven as you followed along. Your eyes kept getting distracted by the things around you, and Dabi had to guide you around oncoming strangers more than once.

“Careful, doll,” he muttered.

“Sorry,” you said off-handedly. His hand gave your shoulder a small squeeze.

You were looking around, trying to guess which club he would take you to. Instead, he turned down a dark alley.

“Wait, what...?”

“Just trust me.”

So you did, letting him guide you until you found a back door entrance with a line of strangers waiting.

“What is this place?”

“It’s a special place for people like us,” he replied. Then he grinned down at you. “What, do you think villains are just constantly fighting and stealing all the time?”

You smiled and leaned against him as you waited. The closer you got, the more anxious you felt, a mixture of fear and excitement. You could feel the music in your feet now, could hear how the building seemed to vibrate from the bass that spilled out of the open door.

“You still got those extra pills on you?” Dabi asked, his eyes ahead.

“Yeah, why?”

“Hand ‘em over.”

You hesitated, and Dabi looked down at you.

“They’re not for me, doll. Money’s not the only currency here, and that stack of cash I had is gonna dry up if we’re not careful. We still gotta be able to get back later.”

Discomfort stirred across your skin, but you pulled out the pills and handed the bag to him anyway.

“Good girl,” he muttered as he pocketed them.

The reaction your body had to those two simple words was astronomical, heat washing over you and moisture pooling between your legs. It took you by surprise, and you bit your lip to keep yourself composed as you took another step forward in the line.

It wasn’t long before it was your turn to go in. You had expected them to check ID, but instead, Dabi talked to the man guarding the door in low whispers. A few words and an exchange of bills and the pills and you were finally in.

The atmosphere smothered you instantly, invading all of your senses. The noise, the smell, the heat, the vibrations, the flashing lights and smoke... It was overwhelming at first, but Dabi kept his arm over you, guiding you through it. Your eyes took it all in, watching people dancing, grinding, making out. You averted your eyes, realizing exactly what you’d gotten yourself into and who you were with.

You turned your attention back ahead when Dabi stopped, and you realized he’d found the bar.

“I’m gonna need a drink before we do this,” he commented, his voice loud to override the noise. “You want one?”

Yes. Yes, you definitely needed another drink.

You nodded at him.

“Whad’ya want? Better make it strong, this is probably our last one for tonight,” he replied as he checked the money left in his hand. The stack was significantly thinner than when you first started.

You gave him your order, picking something that would taste awful but be highly effective. He grinned at you and gave the order to the bartender. A minute later, you both had your own drinks. You took a sip of yours and grimaced.

“You’re not gonna scold me?” he teased, holding his drink up for emphasis.

You scoffed. “Would it make a difference?” you asked.

Dabi laughed. “Not really.”

“Exactly.”

Dabi’s shoulder bumped yours playfully. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ll get you home safe.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “I know you will,” you replied.

You watched the people on the dance floor with longing as you sipped at your drink, waiting for the effects to kick in. You needed to be drunk enough to not care about how you danced or who was watching. You need to be drunk enough to be able to nearly forget yourself and all your troubles.

While you watched the dance floor, Dabi kept an eye out for any potential trouble. His eyes caught a couple popping pills in their mouths and chasing it with alcohol. Further away, a group of girls bent over a table, snorting white powder into their noses off their makeup mirrors. In this place, no one cared what anyone else did, as long as they didn’t start any fights.

Dabi’s arm around your shoulder tightened as he looked away, angling you slightly so the groups were behind you. He didn’t want you to see it. He didn’t want you to see any of it. Because as soon as you did, he knew you’d want to leave, your worry over him greater than your desire for freedom.

And Dabi understood why. He could feel the pull of it, the drag of the old familiar behaviors brought forth by old memories of a time when he didn’t care about consequences. If he were by himself, he probably wouldn’t be able to resist it, the temptation too great. But this time, he had you with him, and it was you that kept him grounded.

It was excruciating waiting; he finished his drink long before yours, knowing the sooner he finished it, the sooner it would hit, and the sooner he’d be able to sober up later. It mixed with your pills in his gut and he could feel the lightheadedness, could feel the numbness settle over him comfortably. His scars didn’t hurt, and the headaches and nausea that came and went each time your medication wore off was once again silent.

But he still had enough awareness to realize how stupid he was being, the risk he was taking by bringing you here. He was being a damn idiot just to make you happy and keep you smiling. What if he fucked up again? What if he couldn’t stop himself? What if he got caught up in something and you ended up getting hurt tonight?

That single possibility lingered in his mind, and he used it to shackle himself to you, using your presence as a lifeline. He refused to let it happen. He’d never be able to forgive himself if it did.

He watched as you finally finished the last of your drink. Your body was loose and untethered again, and you swayed subconsciously to the music.

“You ready?” he asked.

The sooner he could get you out onto the dance floor, the easier all of this would be for him. He’d let you dance, you’d get what you needed out of your system, and then he’d take you home.

He just needed to not see it. He needed to be distracted. He needed to stay focused on you.

You stared at him, eyes wide with hesitancy. But there was longing there as well, hidden behind the glassiness of your eyes.

“Yeah,” you finally answered.

He let you lead the way, allowing you to pick your way through the crowd to find a space where you could squeeze in. Dabi followed behind you, his hand on your waist to make sure you didn’t get lost and to make sure no one else tried to approach you.

The music was upbeat and fast paced, the kind that made people want to jump and sway and sing. Your body fell into it naturally, carried along on the beat.

Dabi stood, his body frozen to distraction as he watched you move. Your eyes were closed, every part of you in motion, and he could tell that you were happy as your mouth sang the lyrics. It was as if he weren’t even there, or more like you weren’t there anymore, just a vessel through which the music moved through. It was a tide that you ebbed and flowed with, and Dabi was the rock.

You loved to dance. Dabi had never even thought about it before; he’d never once asked himself what it was that you liked, what you enjoyed. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized how little he really knew about you. It only made the curiosity burn brighter, hotter.

What else made you happy?

You pulled him back to reality with a tug of your hand, your eyes and face alight with joy.

“Dance with me!” you pleaded.

So, he did, his body coming up to fit behind yours. He let you set the motions, let your hips lead his as his arm wrapped around your waist. His body burned like fire everywhere your bodies touched, and he let it consume him, let himself get lost between you and the music, finding solace in a place where time had no meaning and all that mattered was the movement, the rhythm, the feel and smell of your skin.

The songs changed, blending from one to the next as you danced together, heady from alcohol and arousal. You stopped thinking, you stopped worrying. You let yourself drift in happiness with Dabi pressed against you, his body like a brand against your skin that burned itself into your soul. You were tingling, your skin singing everywhere.

The palms of Dabi’s hands grazed the curve of your shoulders and down your arms until they found their home on your hips, his fingers curling around and bringing you flush against him as you danced. The movement of your bodies were different now, changing, evolving. And faintly, you realized that a threshold was being crossed, a line drawn in the sand that was being etched away with each hot breath across the shell of your ear. You could feel Dabi’s belt buckle against your lower back, could feel the denim of his jeans and the firmness beneath it that had made itself at home against the curve of your ass, and all you could think of was how you wanted more, more, more.

Every inch of you began to tighten like a coil, and you weren’t the only one. Dabi lowered his head until his nose was brushing the crook of your neck, his lips ghosting over your shoulder but never quite touching, never actually reaching out and...

Your movements together slowed to a standstill as people continued to dance around you. Dabi tucked his nose behind the shell of your ear, the breath from his lips tickling your neck in ragged gusts.

He was holding back. Every fiber of Dabi’s being was pulled tight as he fought every natural urge that coursed through his veins.

Your hand reached up to tangle your fingers into his hair soothingly. It was hot and sweaty, the strands sticking between your fingers. You scratched at his scalp, and he hummed, the vibration echoing in your own chest.

“You okay?” you said just loud enough for him to hear.

He growled low and his grip tightened, fingers digging into the plush of your hips, causing your breath to hitch.

“You’re driving me fucking crazy.”

You turned in his arms to look at him, and he stared back, his ocean eyes glowing with hunger. You put your arms around his neck, and you moved in a gentle sway, even as the music continued to pound loudly and quickly around you.

“Am I now?” you grinned.

Dabi’s eyes narrowed at you.

His hands gripped your ass and pushed you tight against him until there was no mistaking just how crazy you were making him, just how badly he wanted you.

“Yeah. You are.”

His action stole a little gasp from your lips, and he grinned devilishly. It only emboldened you, eager to finally rip away the thin, false veneer of a boundary that no longer existed between you.

“So...” you said as you put your forehead to his, your noses bumping gently, “what’re you gonna do about it?”

He could feel your hot breath, could smell the alcohol on your tongue. He squeezed his eyes shut, his brows furrowed. You were drunk, he was drunk and slightly high, and none of this was supposed to be happening.

He shouldn’t do this, he shouldn’t...

He didn’t want you to wake up in the morning and regret this, to write this off as a mistake. He wanted this to mean something.

But then you whined his name, the same way you did last night, with that needy, pleading tone that made his heart drop in his chest and his cock throb against his jeans.

“Dabi...”

Fuck it.

Dabi’s resolve shattered into a million pieces, and he kissed you.

Pleasure erupted like wildfire and you gasped against his lips. Your hands behind his neck instantly tightened around him as you slotted against his body like a magnet. His arms tightened around you, his hands following up and down the curve of your back before returning to cup your ass and push you tight against his groin where his need was heaviest. Your need was heavy too, pulsing in your veins and throbbing between your legs until you were sure you’d drown.

Your mouth opened hungrily, and Dabi was done for, his tongue meeting yours as he kissed you fiercely. His hand came up to cradle the back of your neck, keeping you close, preventing you from pulling away as he drank you in.

You were lightheaded, on the brink of fainting, when your lips finally parted. Dabi stared at you, his pupils dilated, his lips wet.

“Wanna get outta here?” he finally asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

Dabi grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the club into the night air. The cold chilled the sweat on your skin, your hearing muffled from the aftereffects of the club music. Everything held a strange lucidity now, despite the alcohol still rampant in your veins. It was as if a heavy veil had finally been lifted and you could see the beauty of the world around you, all of its edges in crystal clear clarity, and at the center of it was him.

You practically had to jog to keep up, your head still swimming. You turned the corner and managed to find yourself on a quieter street, with less people. He led you down it, making another turn into another nondistinct alleyway, much quieter than the last without any back entrances to clubs or bars.

You needed to kiss him again. You needed it like you needed air.

You tugged on his arm, yanking him back toward you. You met the incoming momentum of his body with your hand on his cheek and your lips on his, hot and eager.

He kissed you back instantly, his tongue opening your mouth again and he backed you up against the wet brick wall, his palms exploring your body. Your hips, your thighs... he pressed himself against you, and you moaned at the feeling of his thigh pressing between your legs, your hips rolling.

Dabi’s mouth broke from yours to trail wet kisses to your jawline and down your neck. Your fingers gripped his hair, your body moving of its own accord, finally cut loose of its strings.

But suddenly, a wave of unpleasant heat began to wash over you, and the lightheadedness from before evolved into full-on spinning.

“Dabi...” you warned.

“Hm?” he hummed, too engrossed in the feel of you to hear the shift in your tone.

You could feel it, the way your stomach rolled. All that drinking, and dancing, and running...

You were going to be sick.

“Dabi stop –”

You shoved him away just in time to bend over to the side and vomit your alcohol all over the ground.

“Oh shit.” Dabi’s arm was around you in an instant, holding you up as you emptied your stomach, his other hand brushing your hair back and out of your face. “It’s okay, doll. I gotcha.”

The lust in Dabi’s veins evaporated immediately, his mental fog receding as he held you while your body convulsed.

Realization crashed over him on all that had just happened.

He shouldn’t have done any of this.

He shouldn’t have taken you that club, he shouldn’t have danced with you, he shouldn’t have touched you like that...

And he definitely shouldn’t have kissed you. Not while you were both drunk off your asses, where you couldn’t tell where the alcohol ended and your feelings began.

Fuck, you were too important to him to fuck this up.

It was too late now. He could still taste you on his tongue, could recall in stunning clarity the feel of your body beneath his palms, the way it had bent to his will. He’d finally had a taste of you and he craved more. He’d unlocked something within himself that couldn’t be put back, had given away something that couldn’t be returned.

You moaned miserably once you were done and wiped your mouth. You propped yourself against the wall with your body bent and your hands on your legs.

“Ughh...” you groaned.

Dabi crouched in front of you so he could look up into your face. “You okay?”

You looked at him with tired eyes and shook your head. “Nnnnope. Everything’s...” – you whirled your finger in a circular motion – “ssspinning.” You lowered your head again. “Oh, God. That last drink hit hard.”

Dabi took your hand in his. “Let’s get you home.”

“Yyyup,” you replied. You made to stand up, but the nausea came back. “Woah, woah... hang on... I’mmm gonna... need another m-minute.” Your words were slurred and your movements slow. You bent back over, your head low again as you breathed deep breaths in and out.

Dabi crouched in front of you again. He placed his hands on your calves and rubbed his thumbs in small circles into the denim.

You glanced up at him and a drunk giggle escaped your lips. “Totally sexy right now, aren’t I?”

Dabi smirked. “You’re always sexy.”

You straightened up slightly and breathed in through your nose and out your mouth as the nausea began to subside and the spinning slowed. You leaned your head back against the wall, your eyes closed.

“I thought I wasn’t your type,” you joked.

Dabi stood up and brushed your hair away from your face. “Obviously that was a fuckin’ lie.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

You were spiraling now, all the alcohol you didn’t throw up running amok in your system, and it was late. Dabi put his arm around your shoulder to keep you steady.

“C’mon, doll... I think we’ve had enough fun for tonight.”

“Mmm... I like when you call me doll,” you hummed.

“I know you do.”

“And sweetheart.”

“Yep.”

Dabi started to help you out of the alley, but you stumbled, your steps wobbly. You broke out into a fit of giggles but had to pause again as another wave of nausea washed over you.

“You gonna throw up again?” he asked.

“I dunno. I mean... I’m pretty sure there’s nothing left to throw up.” You looked around you, the surroundings unfamiliar. “How far away is home?”

“We gotta get to the train.”

“Ugghhh... too far,” you whined. Exhaustion was coming on fast and hard. You wanted to lay down on the ground and sleep.

A raindrop struck the top of your head, then another. More and more began to fall.

Dabi cursed. “Ah, shit...”

You held your hand out, watching as they landed on your palm, your fingers. You opened your mouth and caught a couple drops on your tongue.

Dabi stared at you, his breath stuck in his chest.

You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. And, for at least a little while tonight, you were his. He watched, memorizing the nuances of you, your laugh, your smile, the color of your eyes, your hair, every beauty and every imperfection locked away into a safe place on the possibility that tomorrow everything would be different.

Tomorrow you may not want him at all.

So, for now, he’d enjoy however much was left of the night, even if all that was left was laughing, stumbling, and dancing in the rain.

The drops began to fall faster, heavier. It began to flatten his hair and soak into his clothes. You were oblivious, your face tilted up towards the falling rain, as you held your arms out. You did a small spin but stumbled, and Dabi caught you in his arms before you could hit the pavement.

“Whoops!” You giggled.

“Shitfaced,” he teased.

“Happy,” you replied. You put your arms around his torso, your head resting against his chest. “Happy.” You repeated again, your voice softer.

Dabi allowed his arms to wrap around you, allowed his quirk to warm his body slightly to stave off the cold for the both of you.

He had to get you back, before the trains shut down.

“Come on doll, we gotta hurry.” Dabi grabbed your hand and began dragging you down the street. You followed him, your feet barely able to keep up.

As the rain soaked through your clothes, you began to shiver. Puddles formed in the street, small streams trickling down the gutters. By the time you’d managed to reach the train station, you were both soaked. Dabi managed to get you onto the last train for the night. You sat down together and you began rubbing your arms, your teeth chattering slightly.

Dabi took off his stitched coat and draped it over your shoulders. “Here.”

You wrapped it around you gratefully and snuggled against him, your arms wrapped around his.

As the train began to move, it rocked ever so slightly, back and forth. Dabi allowed his cheek to rest against your wet head as he watched the city pass outside. He felt an unusual sense of quiet in this moment, a peace that he’d never felt before. The usual darkness in him was always there, lurking, but for once, he didn’t care about it, didn’t look at it. He knew this night was wrought with impermanence, and he told himself that he would pretend.

After a silence that lasted for eternity, Dabi allowed himself to speak from a place that he usually kept quiet, a place he’d never before given credence to.

“I hope you remember this...” he whispered against your hair.

You didn’t answer. The mixture of alcohol, exhaustion, warmth, and the movement of the train had lulled you to sleep. It forced a small loneliness to settle on Dabi’s shoulders.

It had been fun while it lasted.

He had to shake you awake once the train reached your stop. You were half asleep as you followed him off and leaned against him the entire walk home. Dabi had half a mind to give you a piggyback ride to save time, but the healing wound on his back itched as a reminder. His scars didn’t hurt terribly yet, but he remained cautious, aware that your quirk had burned off long ago. Now it was only your pills that were keeping the excruciating pain at bay. He could feel them lurking beneath the surface, waiting to wreak havoc on his body again.

It was an ordeal getting you in and up the stairs. You’d gravitated towards the couch in the common room as soon as you saw it, and whined at him when he redirected you to the stairs.

“Elevator,” you whined.

The old machinery squeaked and rattled, and Dabi didn’t want to wake the others just to deal with curious looks and even more curious questions.

“Too noisy.” Dabi replied.

So, he helped you up the steps of the stairwell, catching you when you faltered.

By the third stumble, your giggles returned.

“Shh, shut up,” he whispered.

Your giggle turned into a cackle, unable to control yourself, and Dabi put his hand over your mouth to try to quiet you. Your tongue stuck out and licked his palm, running across his staples.

He yanked his hand away, repulsed. “Ugh! You’re disgusting.”

You cackled some more, and your voice echoed off the stairwell. You clamped your own hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter as your eyes squeezed shut, tears stinging the corners.

Dabi couldn’t help but chuckle at you.

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered. “Come on, you idiot.”

He finally had to put your arm around his shoulder and his arm around your waist, and your giggles finally subsided, the occasional chuckle escaping your lips.

Dabi managed to get you through your bedroom door and plopped you down on top of your bed, where you lay sprawled out, your eyelids heavy.

“Dabi...” you slurred.

Dabi began helping you out of your shoes. “Yeah?”

“Did we kiss?”

Dabi froze, his hands in the middle of peeling off your wet socks. It was as if like you’d shot a bullet through his chest, and now his heart was bleeding out, leaving nothing but emptiness inside.

You didn’t remember.

You already forgot.

Dabi stared at you for a moment as you laid back with your arm over your eyes to block the light. His jaw clenched.

“No, doll.”

“Aww...” you pouted. “I thought we did...”

“You must’ve been dreaming on the train.”

“Mmm, it was a really good dream...”

You rolled to your side and curled in on yourself, tears in your eyes as you stared at your bedside lamp. You were still wrapped up in his coat, with your own soaked jacket underneath.

“C’mon, doll.”

Dabi made you sit up and began taking his coat off you. You rubbed at your eyes sleepily. As soon as he got your own jacket off, you fell back sideways into the bed. Dabi grabbed your blanket and laid it over you.

“I wish I were your type...” you whispered.

Dabi froze for a moment, his eyes on you. But you didn’t look at him; it was almost as if you were talking to yourself.

It stung him how little you remembered from your night together. But Dabi accepted it bitterly, playing along. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe tomorrow you wouldn’t hate him.

“No you don’t,” he replied quietly.

“Yes I do....”

Your eyes closed, and Dabi watched and waited. But they didn’t open again, and your breaths fell soft and even. You’d fallen asleep.

A heavy sigh escaped out of his nose, and he crouched at the edge of your bed, his arms on your mattress with his chin in his fist as he watched you sleep.

His type. It was the second time you’d brought it up that night, even though you didn’t remember. He remembered the jab he’d thrown at you ages ago; he remembered how you reacted. It was his first real hint that showed him you were interested in him.

But then everything fell apart and you put him back together piece by piece. And it was all different after that. Dabi had assumed that his little comment no longer mattered; that it had become a thing of the past, once you’d gotten to know him and all of his problems. After all, why the hell would you even want to be his type anyway?

But you did, and now his careless words from before were back to bite him in the ass. Because now he had only one type, and it was you.

And you weren’t going to remember a thing.

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Chapter 17

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IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST FOR THIS FIC OR ANY OTHER WRITINGS, PLEASE GO HERE TO FILL OUT THE GOOGLE FORM. 18+ ONLY ALLOWED.

TAGLIST: @babayaga67 @ladroone @samemec @georgettesand @horsetechie @ajaviary @thegratefulbread25 @lovingandenjoying @jammakesjam @christalcake @moth-baybee @kdadss @stealingyourturts @purplesweethart @reapersbarge @ren-z @dabi-lover @ohh-takuuu @darkovergrownforestnymph @silverrings-n-prettythings @kirisbeltbuckle @wynnsmelody @sleepyfairyxo @noonasaryn @alittlemoth @prettylambs @n0san1tyl3ft @afuturefailure @sleepycrybby @piratequeen-impact @n3cr0p0l1s @ladyinfini @forrest-of-the-fae @here2vibe @dabislittleprincess @dabislittlemouse @zephoncocaine @kowalsqq @lovingandenjoying @ravenskit @stealingyourturts @crunchtits @byebyeeye @wanhedavaliquette @toastycp @diplotzakkaistriftatsigara @redmilligan @endlessfreaky @noonasaryn

#Dabi x reader #touya x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #touya x you #touya x y/n #Dabi #touya todoroki #soft dabi #angst #pining #slow burn

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hotluncheddie · 8 months

Text

🍓🍓

this is honestly kinda random but my part two of the @thefreakandthehair summer fic challenge is done!!! so pretend it’s summer and not halloween, these boys r bring goofy all year round!

prompt: picking berries | cw: none | rated: G | part 2/2 | tags: disaster gays steve& eddie. besties robin & steve. jeff is an angel.

read part 1 here!

‘rob? um. is it gay to take your male friend berry picking’ steve asks while he’s pushing the full returns kart over to the romance section. he feels his eyebrows scrunch as he tries to read the labels on the tapes.

‘uh’ comes robins faint reply from where she’s slumped on the counter.. not helpful.

‘if uh. what if he really likes strawberries. like so so much.’ steve asks, focusing on trying to read the tapes even harder as he feels his neck get warm the longer he hears no reply.

‘no right? no, i don’t think so. it’s like friendly bonding. totally wholesome.’ steve gives up on the tapes. coming around to stare at robin across the counter. he gnaws on his cuticle and stares at her eyeballs so hard he goes cross eyed.

‘what the fuck’ robin whispers ‘it’s 9 in the morning’

‘robinnnnn’ steve whines because she not helping and he needs her to help, like so much, like right now.

‘ok ok! ask me again.’ she demands, finally looking alive and like she’ll actually fulfil her best friend duties like he needs.

steve takes a deep breath. ‘is it gay to…’

‘yes.’ robin interrupts before he can finish.

steve opens and closes his mouth a couple times. his mind is blank. blank except for an image of eddie and an image of a strawberry and an intense need in his gut to have the two connect.

‘shit’ steve rubs his hand down his face.

‘fraid so, it’s super gay and i hate to be the one to break it to ya.’ robin pats him on the shoulder, genuinely looking like she feels sorry for him. until her face shifts into a grin that’s a touch feral. ‘your crush on eddie is officially terminal.’

steve feels the heat on his neck slither up and bite at his cheeks. ‘who, uh, who said it was eddie?’

‘oh come on steve! i’m your best friend i see how you look at him.’ robin laments, rolling her eyes with her whole body, instantly calling his paper thin bluff.

steve groans, pushes away from the counter and starts pacing ‘ugh okay yes fine! i wanna take eddie on a gay strawberry date and make him smile and hold his hand and other stuff and, and im kinda freaking out here rob!’ steve feels frazzled. he cards a hand through his hair and tuggs.

‘okay. okay! it’s fine see, it’s fine.’ robin says, giving steve two big thumbs up and a smile that does nothing to hide the panic in her eyes. steve whines again and goes back to pacing.

‘uhhh okay! is this gay stress or eddie specific stress?’ robin joins him in pacing but she stays behind the counter. ‘because i know we talked about that kid in camp and you had a lot to say about that one guy you saw at a swim meet and then when we watched blade runner you talked over it a lot like normal but also got like really quiet when harrison ford was all kinda sweaty and stuff.’ robin finally takes a breath and turn back to face steve who is gaping at her. he feels like she just dissected his brain like it was a frog.

‘so i feel like we discussed the whole’ robin flails her arms up and down his general being. ‘bi thing. so i’m thinking this is more a like eddie specific freak out and so, like, shut the fuck up actually? hes obsessed with you steve!’ robin finishes, finally.

‘who’s obsessed with steve?’ eddie’s asks. because eddie’s there now. flanked by the three corroded coffin boys, all looking at steve like he’s something to be wary of.

‘uh’ robin and steve say in unison.

‘kieth!’ robin shouts with way too much enthusiasm for their manager who barely does his job. ‘yeah, ha. he’s been doing the schedules so the two of them overlap like, all the time. steve here always figured the guy hated him but, uh, times they do be a changing. yeah, he’s to-totally obsessed.’ robin smiles way too big and steve can only match it. staring at her, trying to make her shut. up. using only his minimal bran power.

‘oooh’ eddie says because he’s an angel who would never make fun of robin even if she’s being super weird.

‘uh, we’re gonna go look at the sci-fi section ed’s.’ Gareth says, his face one of confusion and maybe a little bit of fear.

‘buckley. harrington.’ jeff says nodding his head in acknowledgment of the two before they all wonder off. gareth and (unnamed freak) repeat the motion and follow.

huh. that’s good. eddie’s friends are taking longer than most to thaw to steve. he gets it, but, still, sometimes it stings.

‘cool yeah.’ eddie says watching them slip away. ‘movie day.’ eddie explains, smiling so big his eyes squish into little crescents, bouncing on his toes.

steve feels his actual heart clench. like god himself is reaching into his chest and squeezing it.

‘that’s great man’ steve says, voice coming out breathy but eddie’s smile only brightens further when their eyes lock. so steve has to spend a second remembering to breath in again.

‘you want to join? oh uh. i mean. you can’t. your working.’ eddie babbles, slowly going strawberry red. ‘and like, i know you don’t love horror and stuff and that’s kinda the vibe we’re going for so, maybe um, maybe some other time. a time your not working but when it’s not like alien over and over. uh yeah.’

‘doyouwanttogoberrypicking. with me?’ steve blurts. feeling his whole head heat up and run down his chest. he clamps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

eddie looks shocked, eyes so big and confused and pretty.

but before steve knows it, the sun peaks over the mountains and the corners of eddie’s mouth curl into a grin that’s so delighted steve’s toes almost curl.

‘yeah. course i would.’ eddie says, so softly, so shyly through his still strawberry red smile..

‘hopeless am i right?’ jeff says as he steps over to the counter next to robin.

they’re both gawking at the two fumbling through making a plan. all pink cheeked and goofy.

‘hopeless.’ robin confirms, rolling her eyes and going back o actually doing her job. she smiles down at the tape in her hand.

#they go on the date and hold hands!!!#lexssummerfanworkschallenge #steddie #hotlunch #stobin #my fic #<3 #it took so long to end this #i hope it’s fun

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j0kers-light · 5 months

Note

Hiiiii!!! Can I be known as 🥁anon? I was the one who requested Jokers music taste and the instrument one!! (So glad you liked them btw, you write so welll!!!!!!)

How about 10 signs that joker is in love/likes someone and his love language? I mainly imagine him as someone who denies the idea (just like in HL) but still acts on his feelings in his own way- maybe leaving gifts around and denying any sort of accountability for them?

“I’m telling you, you’ve had that necklace on before” - “Huh? I didn’t even know you liked hand bags.” - “You SERIOUSLY forgot you owned that car?”

Welcome 🥁 anon!!

A huge hey hi to you! Yes, your requests were so much fun to fill, I hope I did them some justice! Ahh! Thank you, I'm happy you love mi work! 😭😭🥹

Lol, ten signs that Joker is in love? YOU MEAN, TEN THINGS HE HATES ABOUT YOU? 🥴 sorry not sorry.

Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy 🥁 anon! 🖤✨

Denial is a river in Egypt because Joker refuses to admit that he loves you! But he's a man where the saying, "Actions speak louder than words” applies. He won't say it (lol Meg from Hercules) but there will be signs he’s in love.

Joker is already attentive but he's even more so as he begins to accept his feelings. He listens and retains the tiniest details about you so he can use the information for later. J shocks you when he remembers your obscure food order (and the extra sauces) when you only said it once in passing three months ago. Joker doesn't know, but his love language is heavy influenced by actions.

Another sign is Joker being more supportive. He's always in your corner motivating you to do anything you set your mind to but now he's more focused on your future with him. If you want a promotion, one is suspiciously available the next week or if you can't take the stress of your job and want to quit, Joker will offer to support you financially. You ask for it, Joker will make it happen.

Joker becomes more protective than ever. If the security cameras and secret detail wasn't enough proof how much Joker loves you, the way his eyes never leave your sight in public, the way he rests his hand on your lower back in crowds, or protects you from danger (that he may or may not have caused) is telling. Joker has never been a knight in shining armor before and he loves having something to protect. He will always protect his Light and takes his responsibility seriously.

Once he admits he's falling hard, Joker will become clingy and start introducing his love language of physical touch to you more. For years, he never let anyone close but you have that honor now. He holds you close while you're cooking, he plays with your hands during movie night marathons, and he denies enjoying cuddles—he's just cold—but you know better. Joker can't stop touching you in someway shape or fashion. He’s addicted now.

Which brings us to another sign. Gift giving is another one of Joker's strong love languages but this man will deny deny deny ever getting you anything!! He leaves them around for you to find and dramatically gasps when you do. "Gee Bunny, I don’t know why there's a shiny new hand bag on your bed.. I didn't know ya liked 'em." Or, "Ya don't know your own closet Bunny? This new winter coat still has the uhh, tag on it." Followed by a, "What a coincidence! Twenty-nine reported subway muggings just this week and you win a uhhh surprise car! Don't ya re-mem-ber entering that contest doll?" Joker loves buying you things but he sucks at lying.

Joker tends to forget his version of love is not normal so he gets possessive a lot. He's a jealous man by nature and if he sees competition, he will eliminate it. You don't need to know why the flirtatious guy at the front lobby no longer works there, or the guy that gave you his number was found dead the following day.. The thing is! Joker finally admitted that he loves you! He will not let anyone take you away from him.

Another sign from Joker is his sudden willingness to communicate. J is a mysterious, closed off individual. Its an honor to know anything about him so when J sits you down and opens up about his time spent in Arkham or explains what his childhood was like (but cautious, it could still be lies)— consider it a miracle. Joker is opening up to you! He wants you to know more about him and his shy, hesitant eyes staring into yours shows that he's vulnerable doing so. Don't take advantage of him in this state or you'll lose him forever.

Speaking of forever, you know Joker is all about planning. His backup plans have backup plans from B-Z. One day he found himself staring up at the ceiling planning on how to make things official with you and now it’s all he can think about. You’re not a secret and he’s tired of treating you like one. It'll be dangerous if he announces you as his girl, (you'll never be safe) but Joker wants the world to know that you love him so he stares off into the void and plots a way for it to work.

Contrary to popular belief Joker is not cold hearted. He can be passionate when the need arises and he cranks it up to 100% with you. Joker never had a healthy relationship so he tends to forget the intensity in which he loves you. He has so much emotion to give that he literally leaves you breathless. His kisses are greedy and desperate, and the way he clings to you during sex makes you combust with love. This man doesn't even know he can destroy you with a single touch and it’s better he remains blissfully unaware.

And lastly. The ultimate sign that Joker loves you. The moment Joker takes you to his main hideout, walking hand in hand, where anyone can see— is the moment you know he loves you. When Joker exposes you to his world, there’s no going back. You’re the one and when he orders all of his men in for a manatory meeting you're in tears. It’s finally happening.

"Good evening gentle men. I have a special announcement tonight." Joker pulls you to stand in front of him and proceeds to wrap his arms around you possessively.

Your heart is beating out of your chest while all of these men stare at you in shock. You don't blame them.

Joker is nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck but you miss the dark gleam in his eyes. They spell murder for anyone that dares to defy him. He scanned the crowd, looking for any naysayers.

"This is my Bunny and I'll kill anyone.. who's gotta problem with it."

#thanks 🥁 anon #thanks for the ask!#ledger joker #heath joker #the dark knight joker #joker x y/n #dark knight joker #ledger joker x reader #joker x reader #reader insert #black!fem!reader #swf headcanon #ten things i hate about you #his lighthouse

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mlm-writer · 1 year

Text

The Sorcerer Supreme, the Devil and Six Men (M!Reader x Multi)

Pairing: Cis!M!Bottom!Reader x Ray Palmer (LoT), Dick Grayson (my version), Peter Parker (TASM), Skurge (MCU), James T. Kirk (AOS), Lucifer (Lucifer) & Chris Smith (Peacemaker) Rating: Explicit Words: 2066 POV: Second Summary: Uhhh gangbang to save the multiverse and reader is Sorcerer Supreme of his universe. Note: Something I kept from last kinktober to really sit down for it. Tags: Multiverse gangbang, creampie, cum swallowing, light cumplay, blowjobs, double penetration, spitroasting, anal fingering, handjobs and some grinding.

Even if you would explain how you got yourself into this situation, you doubted anyone would believe you. You clenched your hands in the silken sheets below you, when Lucifer added a third finger to your hole. He stilled them inside you and ran a hand down your bare back. “Relax, my darling, I need to have you properly prepared for when our guests arrive.” You huffed and folded your arms in front of you so you could rest your forehead on them.

“If you ask me, it’s pretty pathetic that the devil himself cannot give me enough sexual energy to save the multiverse,” you quipped, before shifting a little. Your cock was leaking all over the pillow Lucifer put under your hips. Lucifer chuckled and curled his fingers inside you. “Hey! No cheating!” You cried out as he rubbed that spot he had gotten to know all too well. You never should’ve started a situationship with the devil, but frankly being the sorcerer supreme from a universe where jackshit happened could be very boring.

Just as Lucifer was about to make another smartass comment, a portal opened in front of you. You wanted to cover yourself, but Lucifer was ahead of you, draping a thin blanket over you below the waist, before sitting up on the bed. First to come through was Skurge, donned in his full armour. “Behold! The Sausage Party!” He announced, before extending his arm. Coming through were four familiar faces and one boy-scout looking man. His whole body language screamed ‘I am highly uncomfortable.’

“So which one of you do we need to stuff full of cum?” You lifted your head and snickered at the blunt question. Even though this Chris Smith was not from your universe, he had the exact same mannerisms and almost the same funny outfit as the one you knew in high school. Here was to hoping he could fuck like the Chris you knew as well.

The other guys looked embarrassed at the question, with one of them even slapping Chris' arm. Even with his mask on, you recognised the face of the one who got away anywhere. You had always wished Dick Grayson and you had lasted, but the situation back then did not allow for it. Lucifer probably knew that, hence why his alter was standing before you now, clad in a tight suit that left little to the imagination, as he reprimanded Chris for his bluntness. If he was anything like your Chris, that slap did nothing to correct his behaviour.

“As far as the gentleman explained, you should know everyone but me,” the boy-scout looking man said as he walked closer. His face was flushed, eyes avoiding yours. You took the hand he offered and shook it. “Ray Palmer,” he introduced himself. You studied his face, noting the pale skin that turned red so easily, the dreamy brown eyes and pullable-looking chestnut hair.

He tried to take his hand back, but you held onto it. “And why are you here mister Palmer?” You questioned, fingers rubbing over his skin. From this close you could see his cute features in more detail. He looked around nervously and then muttered something under his breath. “When you’re in the presence of the Sorcerer Supreme, you should really speak up,” you teased him.

“Yessir, I’m sorry uh…” You took mercy on him and let go of his hand. He straightened his back and looked around the room again. The portal he had come through was no more; he had nowhere to go. “You see it started with…”

“He is the cause of all this, now let’s move on, before the multiverse is literally torn apart, shall we?” Lucifer interrupted.

“Let’s commence!” Skurge shouted. Somehow he managed to get all his armour off without you noticing him undressing, his heavy cock hanging between his legs and swinging with each step he took towards you. Ray took a step aside, face red like a tomato. You reached out for Skurge’s thick cock and guided it towards your mouth. You looked over at Ray as you sloppily started licking and sucking on Skurge’s tip. When your eyes met, you gave the pale man a flirty wink.

Skurge was very vocal, praising you for your skill with comical lines that made sucking him off harder. You then felt warm hands at the edge of the blanket that was pooling at your waist. You looked over your shoulder right into bright blue eyes and a dashing smile. Oh you and James T. Kirk had your adventures in college. “May I?” He whispered, leaning close to tease your lips with his. The brief brush was enough to make you want him all over again.

You let out a soft sigh before turning your head back around to suck Skurge off. “Do whatever you want to me, Jimmy boy,” you spoke breathlessly, before trying to take more than just the tip in your mouth. You heard Lucifer offer Jim some lube, after he had slowly dragged the fabric off your body. Jim put his cock between your cheeks, rubbing his slick cock between them and over your hole.

You lifted your head off Skurge’s cock. You kept jerking him off as you turned your head to the side. You saw Dick Grayson on his knees, suit open a little so he could stroke his thick cock, while sucking off Peter Parker. “Hey Grayson! If you want to save the multiverse, his cum should be mine,” you scolded him.

Dick chuckled, even when Chris shoved his cock in his face to get a turn too. “Just warming them up for you, sweetheart, don’t fret,” the man replied, before trying to deepthroat Chris’ huge meat. You rolled your eyes and went back to trying to do the same to Skurge. He stretched your throat, while Jim teased your hole. You heard Lucifer giving that Ray Palmer a warm-up, but Skurge was grabbing your head and using it like a fleshlight, so you could not watch. He held you down, cumming deep down your throat. You swallowed it all.

You gasped when Skurge pulled out. You only got two breaths in, before Jim pushed deep inside you. You moaned, the sound growing louder when Chris grabbed your hair and tilted your head back. You stuck your tongue out as Chris stroked his cock right above you. Dick must have warmed him up good, because Jim did not even get to speed up, before Chris was spilling his load directly onto your waiting tongue. “Don’t swallow yet,” Dick told you as he shoved Chris to the side. A few seconds later, Dick’s load joined Chris’ in your mouth. Before you could swallow it, Peter was stroking himself in front of your face too. His hair was dishevelled and he looked down at you with reverence.

You struggled with breathing as your mouth was full of cum and your ass full of Jim’s dick. You almost choked on the cum, when you felt a finger join Jim’s cock in your ass. “Lucifer, please, it’s tight enough,” Jim groaned as he continued fucking you at a leisurely pace. He was no longer being slow for your comfort, but he also wasn’t pounding you yet.

“Get used to it, captain. Doctor Palmer would love to join you,” Lucifer mused. You whined, not sure if you dreaded having two cock in your ass or if you needed it on a spiritual level. Dick put his hand over your mouth, before telling you to swallow. It was hard with the way your body rocked and how aware you were of the cocks that just shot their load in your mouth but were still rock hard.

Once your mouth was empty, Dick bent down and kissed you. You moaned into his mouth as Jim's cock and Lucifer's fingers were stretching out your ass. When Dick pulled away, you protested, but then a hand rested on your throat. "Just say stop if you want me to," Dick whispered in that soft, husky tone that made your cock weep. His fingers found their place and he pressed down, limiting the blood your brain was getting.

Things got a little blurry from there. You tumbled into subspace, everything hazy and pleasurable and amazing. As if you were under a spell, your body relaxed and before you knew it, you were on your back, lying on top of Jim, while Ray's cute face hovered above you, both their cock stretching your ass open. Dick was beside you, hand on your throat and stroking Skurge with his free hand. Hands were all over you, one of them belonging to the devil scooping your cum off your stomach and massaging it into the flushed skin of your cock.

Ray did not last long. Your hole was too tight for two cocks and when Lucifer used your cum to stick a finger inside him, it was over for the boy-scout. Through the haze of pleasure, you heard him shout. You mewled as Chris was being especially rough with your nipples, pulling and pinching. After Ray pulled out - spent - Lucifer joined Jim inside you.

You gasped at the stretch, not knowing whose cock entered your mouth as soon as it was wide open. It didn’t matter. Your ass was stretched to the limit. Your throat was full of cock as well and you still felt the gentle pressure right below your jaw. You didn’t stand a chance against another orgasm coming over you like a wave crashing on the shore. To make matters worse, a pair of lips wrapped themselves around the tip of your cock, sucking the cum out of you and not letting go until you were crying from overstimulation.

The cock in your throat spilled more cum inside you, before pulling out. You then saw it was Peter all along. You wouldn’t have guessed by how innocent he looked right after violating your oesophagus. You could not dwell on that thought. Dick came into your line of vision and his hand moved from your throat to your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. He spit your cum onto your tongue, then commanded you to swallow it.

You were no longer capable of thought, swallowing any cum that landed in your mouth, even Jim’s, who bred your hole and right after put you in Lucifer’s lap so he could fuck your throat, giving you a good taste of your own ass and the mixture of cum that was in there right now. You lost track of who was releasing their load when and how often in which hole; it didn’t matter.

By the time the men were spent, your cock was limp and incapable of getting hard again for a long time. The haze of pleasure slowly cleared from your brain as Skurge forcibly removed Chris from the premises and back into his own universe. You scrunched your face, then looked up at who was holding you like a baby. Bright blue eyes and a gentle smile looked down at you. You smiled back and leaned your head against Jim’s shoulder. “How do you feel?” Jim almost whispered. You looked around, noticing how almost everyone looked like they ran a marathon naked. Dick gave you a dopey smile from where he sat on the floor sipping on a bottle of water. Ray was the only one wearing underwear, which you noticed when he came up to you to offer you a bottle as well. You thanked him and took it. You moved off Jim and sat up, so you would not spill it everywhere.

When the exhaustion settled, Lucifer approached you in full suit with an outstretched hand. “Shall we?” He offered with his signature smile. You handed Jim the bottle and gave a nod. You stood up, feeling cum dripping down your legs, but also the energy you have been given coursing through your chakras.

“Let’s end this,” you spoke with determination, before you took the devil’s hand. A portal opened in front of you. A skimpy outfit that barely covered you up and definitely did not hide the cum stains drying on your body materialised on you. One last deep breath and Lucifer led you through the portal to your destiny. Let’s see what the sexual energy of the sorcerer supreme, the devil and six men could do.

____________________

IF YOU ENJOY MY WORK AND WANT TO TRICK ME INTO WRITING MORE, REBLOG. THAT IS HOW YOU KEEP BLOGS LIKE MINE ALIVE. (and you get a mental kiss on the mouth if you leave a comment too, even if it is just WDNIEFBEILFWEIDJ)

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miscreantahead · 8 months

Text

Zoro/Sanji Post Thriller Bark

I've been thinking about Thriller Bark AGAIN so much lately and about how I've never really written anything for them post-thriller bark. So I wrote this little thing, which doesn't feel like enough for my AO3 so I'm just putting it here. Rated M. Tags for uhhh... nonchalant discussion of death? If I were to post this and give it a title, it would be World's Most Sword-Swinging Shithead

----

“Hey, what the hell are you doing here, shouldn’t you be lying down still?” Sanji’s spoke in a slow drawl and lazily waved the spatula at him.

“I’ve been lying down for days,” Zoro dragged his feet walking in.

“Yeah, and you were even more almost-dead than you were at Baratie, so bad dog, go lay down,” he pointed the spatula into the corner for some reason.

“Not tired,” Zoro mumbled, still moving toward him.

“I didn’t say sleep, I said lay down, at least until Chopper clears you to move around,” now he was waving it toward the sky, and with his other elbow raised with his hand on the skillet handle, it gave Zoro the perfect opening to hug him around his middle from behind.

“Wh-wha?” Sanji flailed and struggled for just a second before Zoro let him go.

“Why’d you do that?” Sanji was now holding the spatula with both hands and pointing it in his direction like it was a longsword.

“Because I was almost dead,” Zoro said. and he made a point not to step that far away. In fact, he was close enough that Sanji was able to hold the spatula just under the jut of his chin.

“You’re saying you suffered brain damage, then?” Sanji asked, and his face turned comically sympathetic, “you poor, poor thing…” he caressed Zoro’s cheek with the spatula in a degrading manner.

“Cook,” Zoro growled, grabbing the spatula and shoving it away, “let’s not fuck around right now,” he didn’t intend for his words to come out the way they did. He heard himself, low, hoarse, maybe a little needy, and he saw the expression on the cook’s face change like he’d heard all of that too.

“I want to be with you,” Zoro had no choice but to carry it home, “even just once.”

Sanji’s expression had gone from silly to surprised and now to serious with his brow furrowed, eyes darting around Zoro’s face like he was trying to read some secret hidden within it. It was like he was worried that if he said anything in line with what Zoro was getting at it would be some kind of “gotcha!” He was still reading this like some kind of competition, like some game he was at risk of losing. Zoro wasn’t in the mood for it.

“I almost died,” Zoro’s voice cracked.

“I know that better than anyone, jackass,” Sanji responded through clenched teeth, apparently out of jokes.

“So?” Zoro said, moving closer so their foreheads bumped. “Don’t you want…?” he trailed off, closing his eyes and feeling Sanji ever so slightly press back against him. It was there in a thousand secret looks and just-a-little-longer-than-necessary touches. Something was happening between them, since Skypeia at least, and Zoro was sure it wasn’t one-sided. He was also sure that the damn cook’s mind was a conundrum he might never be able to solve, so he didn’t have a clue if this approach would work.

Sanji still hadn’t responded, but when Zoro opened his eyes his were shut, like he too was just quietly feeling it, their closeness. Zoro wondered how long it would take him to actually verbalize his position, but decided that perhaps he didn’t need to. If he didn’t want to say it, then Zoro could help him around that.

His lips were already only inches away, all Zoro had to do was tilt the orientation of his own head so their mouths touched instead of their foreheads. He started to move, slowly, until he was close enough to feel Sanji take a deep breath inward. When their lips met, it was the slightest ghost of a touch, but Zoro felt an urge to lift his hand and place it flat against the left side of the cook's chest.

His heart was pounding, so fast and loud and Zoro didn’t realize until he could feel it, that he could also hear it.

“Cook,” Zoro voice was weak against his lips.

The response he got was arms around his neck and a searing kiss as the cook surged into the kiss and tugged Zoro close to him. Their hips bumped and Zoro felt the hardness against his thigh for just a moment but he chased that feeling, crowding the cook back against the counter and pinning his narrow waist under the press of his abs and rolling his hips up so Sanji could feel that he was in a similar, or possibly more severe state.

The kiss broke then, Sanji broke it, but didn’t otherwise move, he just looked into Zoro’s eyes with surprise on his face. His expression looked foggy, but like there may have been something akin to reservation far beneath a cloud of desire in his glossed over-eyes and kiss-swollen lips that hung open to accommodate little puffs of breath.

Then a new emotion swept over that face, one Zoro was intimately familiar with: rage.

“Do you remember what you did, you son of a bitch?” Sanji hissed, arms unwinding from around Zoro’s neck, fingers instead viciously curling into and pulling the collar of his shirt instead.

“You knocked me out, threw me aside, left me there without a word while you went off to die,” he spat, literally spat, Zoro could feel the wet drops hitting his face, “and then when I woke up I had to be the one to try and find you because no one else knew why you weren’t there. I went looking and the whole time, every corner I turned I thought I’d see your bloody, mutilated, crumpled corpse somewhere dead—,”

Zoro placed a hand gently on the side of his face and it stopped his ranting.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Zoro said, earning a hardened glare, “but I’m still alive, somehow. And I do have a choice about what to do next, that’s why I’m here.”

“So, what, you realized you forgot to cross fucking me off your bucket list so—,”

“Cook,” Zoro interrupted, calm, because he didn’t want to be like this. Not right now, just this once, he needed it to be different.

“I know,” Sanji croaked, “but I don’t want to have to rush this, okay? Whatever it is, I don’t want to force it, I want to feel like we have all the time in the world. I want—,” he stopped, and looked Zoro in the eye, expression serious but no longer with anger, “—I need more time,” he said.

Zoro’s heart twisted in his chest.

“So just don’t fucking die, okay? Don’t you have to become the world’s most sword-swinging shithead?” He snapped again, “…fucking idiot…” he grumbled, and then Zoro watched him start to unravel, remained still as he collapsed enough for his head to fall and rest against Zoro’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Sanji whispered against him.

“For what?”

“Saving Luffy, and all of us, and…” he muffled the next word by pressing his mouth against Zoro’s skin but Zoro heard it, “…and me.”

Zoro kissed his hair, then released a heavy sigh into it so the strands on top of his head fluttered around.

“So, about my bucket list…” Zoro mumbled.

“No,” Sanji drew back, and looked him in the eye again, “not right now for a million reasons, starting with because I’m literally in the middle of breakfast,” he gestured toward the simmering happening on the stove, “because I can’t look at you right now without being pissed that you tried to leave, and because I’m going to need to be more than a line on a bucket list, jackass, but if that’s what I am then I’ll stay uncrossed just to keep you alive.”

“More?” Zoro latched onto just one word and pressed for explanation, and Sanji’s eyes widened.

“Ah, well…” he wiggled free of any of Zoro’s extremities and turned around to face the stove again, removing the lid and starting to stir.

Zoro released the breath he’d been holding and a relaxed smile crept over his face as he slowly wrapped his arms around the cook from behind again.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” he said, and squeezed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sanji muttered, “now go back to bed.”

fin More of my bullshit at https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patchratt

#zosan #zoro/sanji #sanzo #zsz

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hellfirenacht · 2 months

Text

Reader ==> Enjoy Your New Car!

Summery: Through no powers of your own, you end up in Hawkins 1985, in a tv show that you once saw on Netflix. Slow burn, Eddie Munson x Reader will be canon, choose your own adventure to a degree, monkey’s paw author.

Isekai Chronicles Master List

START HERE <<<--- FIRST CHAPTER HERE

Chapter Summery: You get a new (old) car! That should help you get around Hawkins... right?

Tags: Eddie and Reader, sfw

Work Count: 2.8 k

Reader ==> Enjoy Your New Car!

The junk car that you managed to scrape together a couple hundred dollars for worked well enough for the first two weeks. It had no heating, no radio, the seats were uncomfortable, and there was a lingering scent that you couldn’t get rid of no matter how much you tried to clean it, but it drove you to the Hideout and the high school, and to the trailer you now called home.

That was until about a half hour ago when the key snapped in the slot to turn the engine on. Could you ever catch a break? Just fucking once while you were here?

You nearly jumped out of your seat and through the roof of your rust bucket when you heard a tap at the window. You looked to see Eddie, frowning at you and you manually cranked down the window.

“Evenin’ officer. How can I help you?” you asked, trying not to sound as defeated as you felt in that moment.

“This is a no parking zone.” He said, leaning over and resting his arms on the open window. It was late November, and the cold was consistent now, but you hardly noticed with how you’d been just staring out the windshield for the past thirty or so minutes. “Neighbors have been sending in complaints.”

You looked behind you at the neighboring trailers. There were at least 2 that had broken down cars within the block, one that’s been sitting on cinder blocks since before you arrived and one that the neighbor had been working on for a few weeks on and off. Other cars were scattered and parked near their own trailers, haphazardly.

“I’ll be sure to move it.” you said, more dry than intended.

“So why are you sitting out here in your car, staring out into space?” Eddie asked and looked out the way your car was facing, as if trying to see if there was anything interesting in that general direction. There wasn’t.

“Car’s broke.”

“How broke?”

You held up the piece of plastic where your key had been attached to.

“So the car’s fine, but the key broke.” Eddie clarified.

“Is there a difference?” You asked.

“There is. If the car was busted then you’d be fucked out of this rust bucket-”

“Eddie, you can’t say things like that.-” you rubbed your face, now feeling the cold in the contrast to the warmth in your cheeks.

“What I’m saying is I can help.” He continued. “Do you have any tools?”

“Uhhh....”

“Follow me.”

You got out of the car, not bothering to roll the window back up, and followed Eddie back to his trailer across the park. It wasn’t a long walk, you had already come to visit your friend more than a few times since you moved in. You felt a little bad, you found yourself spending time at Eddie’s place more than your own.

“So, what brought you to my end of the park?” you asked as the two of you walked. The ground was covered in a thin layer of frost that wouldn’t fully commit to snow or ice.

“Boredom.” he said honestly. “I fried my brain trying to learn this new riff I’ve been working on and I needed a break.”

“New song for the set?” You asked. “It’s about time, I get that one Judas Priest song is a staple, but you’ve beaten it into the ground at this point.”

“Prowler isn’t going anywhere as long as it’s the one song everyone can play consistently.” Eddie protested. “And it’s a new original song I’m working on.”

“That’s actually really cool.” you followed him into his slightly warmer trailer and watched as he opened a tiny closet and pulled out a tool box. “How many original songs do you have?”

“Three and a half.” Eddie said. “We uh.. We started with a song that Ronnie and I wrote together. We don’t play that one anymore, but we’ve got one other song, and this one that I’m working on now.”

“Why don’t you play the first song?” You asked as you followed him back out.

Eddie’s face went stoic for a moment, staring at the dirty green toolbox. “It just didn’t work out.” he finally said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t interested in talking about the song. “The second song is called Litch and if Jeff can commit to learning the vocals then we’d actually be able to play it at the Hideout at some point. They always hesitate on playing our original songs.”

“I’d like to hear your original stuff at some point.” you said, following him back out into the cold.

“If I can get the guys to commit, then you’ll hear it at some point.” Eddie said, leading the way back to your car.

There were times where the two of you couldn’t shut up for five seconds, and then there were times where the silence between the two of you was deafening. Sometimes you felt like you were getting somewhere with your friendship with Eddie, and sometimes... sometimes you wondered if he thought about you at all when you weren’t around.

He came over to see you. Of course he thinks about you. You told yourself, watching the subtle way his hair moved as the two of you walked together.

Eddie hopping into the driver seat of your car and you moved into the passenger side seat next to him, with the toolbox between the two of you. He immediately pulled out some pliers and started messing with the key slot, trying to get the broken bit of metal out.

You focused on his face, watching the way his eyes narrowed in concentration and the way his tongue subtly poked out from between his lips. That was something you noticed he did a lot. His brows were furrowed and from your angle it almost gave him a unibrow until he moved his fringe to the side. It was a little longer than it had been in the past two months and you wondered how often he cut it.

“Shit.” he muttered and leaned back against the seat, his hands resting on the wheel. “Yeah, it’s really jammed in there.”

“So I’m fucked out of this rust bucket?” you asked, frowning.

“I... there’s another option.” Eddie said, staring at the wheel. “It’s not a smart option. It’d be stupid, actually and not really safe. And I’d have to do something not completely within the letter of the law.”

You paused and stared at him. “Don’t you sell special K to high schoolers?”

“That was once and I overcharged them.” Eddie said. “I save that for a different clientele.”

For now. You thought.

“So, what’s the illegal method you have to help me with my car?” you asked.

Eddie took a deep breath and seemed to refuse to look at you. “We can hotwire it.”

“Hotwire... I’m sorry, what?” you looked at him surprised. “You know how to hotwire a car?” Had that been part of the show? You really wished that you had watched season four more than once over a year ago. It didn’t help that the longer you stayed here, the less you seemed to remember. You had your private box and notebook tucked away in your closet under a blanket, but you only pulled that out when you absolutely had to. Paranoia stopped you from reading everything too closely, and the idea of being caught with the things in that box... you shuddered to think about what would happen and how you’d explain yourself.

Eddie didn’t say anything for a moment before he pulled a screwdriver from the toolbox. “It’s up to you. I can hotwire the car and teach you how to start it up like that, or you can call a tow and pay to have the key fixed.”

You thought about the options for a while, you were already eating ramen for most of your meals to pay for the car. The car clearly wasn’t worth more than the couple hundred you had paid for it, and you really were convinced that you’d overpaid for it.

Fuck it.

Eddie wasn’t gentle with the way he ripped open the dashboard and he started pointing out the different wires. You did stop him for a moment to grab a sheet of paper to write it down. Eddie insisted that after you’ve done it once, you wouldn’t need the cheat sheet, but you weren’t going to take any chances.

“So.. how’d you learn to do this?” you asked as he rubbed two wires together, flicking them almost. You didn’t think he’d answer, but then the car suddenly rumbled to life and he actually smiled, looking proud of himself.

“My dad.” Eddie explained. “We didn’t exactly have a traditional relationship growing up. Some kids got birthday parties and trips to the zoo, I got lessons on hotwiring cars and trips to the bar to learn cheap tricks for money. That only lasted until I was about ten when I stopped being small and cute.”

“Shit.” you said, looking at him, trying to decide on how you’re supposed to respond to that lore that was just dropped on you. Eddie didn’t open up often, and this had to be a sign of trust, right? “...Want me to fight your dad?”

Eddie snorted at your question. “I bet my uncle would take you up on that.” he shook his head. “No reason to, I haven’t seen him in years. He’s probably in jail right now, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s been locked up.”

“Want me to break in and beat him up anyway?” you offered. “I’m sure I could figure it out.”

“Your stealth rolls are shit.” he said.

“You sound like Gareth. What I can or can’t do in D&D is completely different from what I could do in real life.” you said.

“And how exactly do you plan on sneaking in to beat up my dad?” he asked, amusement in his eyes.

“I’ll walk in, bat my eyelashes, and ask to visit him. Then when he’s in front of me I start swinging.” you punched your own hand for good measure.

“I’m pretty sure you have to be a relative to visit someone in jail.” Eddie said. “And I’m not exactly itching to see him again, even if you decide to start a fight.”

“Okay, so my car is now on.” you said, on a roll now. “Hear me out, Eddie. You and I go to the courthouse right now and get married- I said hear me out, I’m not done-. I take your last name, use that to get into the prison to visit your dad, and then I can beat him up. I leave, we get divorced, we split with all of our own shit since we don’t have kids or shared property. Easy.”

Eddie rubbed his cheek as he laughed. “Bad idea, you’d be stuck with my last name. Munson doesn’t really get you anywhere in this town.”

“‘Lipton’ isn’t exactly doing me any favors either.” you pointed out. “Go big or go home, Eddie.”

“You are home.” he motioned to the trailer.

You weren’t, and you didn’t think you’d ever be again.

“So, is that a no on marriage?” you asked, leaning close to him with your hand over your heart. You gave him your best pout. “I’m heartbroken.”

“You were only going to marry me to get to my dad.” He gives you a playful shove away from him.

“Yeah, but you’d be a bonus.” you said, blurting out the words without thinking. Ah, fuck, you weren’t supposed to be flirting. Flirting was a bad idea, a very very bad idea. You had made the decision a while ago that it was a bad idea.

If he turned you down, it could be awkward and that could fuck up your chance to save him. If he dated you and it went badly that would make your chances worse.

Focus on the mission, and not the way Eddie sounds when he laughs or how impossibly pretty his eyes are get your shit together and stop that-

“Nice to know you think I’m such a prize.” Eddie said casually, maybe a little too casually for how he usually talked.

“When we divorce you can use that to fuel your music. I look forward to hearing the break-up album.” You tried to smooth your genuine flirting over by committing to the bit.

“If I ever sell out, I’ll write our divorce album.” Eddie replied. “Until then, I’ll stick with singing about Hell and demons and references to my campaigns.”

You don’t know why the idea of him writing songs about his campaigns made your stomach explode with butterflies, but it did. Maybe it was because you were now part of the campaigns and knowing that made you feel special. Like you were actually a part of something, part of him.

Stop that.

“Oh shit, I was actually doing something.” you realized and shook your head. “Right, I wasn’t just sitting here for fun. I had to go get groceries.”

“That would explain why you were sitting in here when I found you.” Eddie agreed. “Do you... Want company?”

He wanted to go grocery shopping with you? That surprised you a lot. It almost felt domestic-

“Yeah, sure.” you agreed, pushing any other thoughts out of your head. “I need you to come anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you showed me how to start the car but you didn’t tell me how to turn it off.”

Eddie laughed and hopped out of the car so that you could scoot back into the driver's seat. He hopped in next to you and it felt like things were swapped now. You had spent weeks in his passenger seat and now he was sitting in yours.

If this was going to be a regular occurrence, you were tempted to slap a BABY ON BOARD sticker on the back of your car.

As you pulled out of the trailer park, Eddie rummaged around his jacket and pulled out a cassette.

“Radio’s broke.” you warned as he stuck the tape in and pushed play. To your surprise, music started playing through the speakers.

“Tape player isn’t.” he said, looking proud of himself. “You can keep this one.”

“Keep...?” you asked. He’d loaned to tapes before, but that was always with the promise you’d return them.

“Yeah, I already have all these songs.” Eddie fidgeted with one of his rings casually. “I thought you might need something to fill the silence. You know, since you’re always coming over to listen to music with me.”

You really did, the quiet of being home alone had been grating on you and you had been spending as much time as you could with Eddie at his place.

“Is this your way of giving me a hint that I’ve overstayed my welcome?” you asked wryly, feeling a knot in your stomach at the thought.

“No! No, not that.” Eddie said quickly. “No, uh... I just thought you’d like these songs. You told me you liked a few of them.”

“So... you made me a mixtape?” you asked, trying to remain calm despite the fact that your brain was screaming.

“I had some time to kill, and you were complaining about not having anything to listen to so...” he shrugged.

Maybe you’d ask him to marry you for real. You didn’t even had a tape player, or anything other than your car to listen to it but you didn’t care.

Next up, get a tape player for Emergency Vecna Use. And batteries. All the batteries. You added to the endless list of to-do’s to prepare you for Hawkins High’s Spring Break.

“Thank you.” you said, feeling genuinely touched that he went out of his way to do that for you. “Really. I’ll listen to it until it disintegrates.”

“I’ll make you a new one when that happens.” Eddie promised.

Conversations drifted back into easy territory after that. Hellfire, dungeons and dragons, comics, work. It felt so easy talking to him in these moments when it was just the two of you. It had been so long since that first disastrous hang out session, but somehow he’d still let you keep hanging out.

You wished that things could be different.

For now, you just decided to do what you did best when hanging out alone with him. You pretended that your ID was legitimate, that you were some vague relative of his drug supplier, and that you two could be normal friends, doing normal things.

For now, that would have to be enough.

Reader ==> Learn How to Hotwire a Car was submitted by my Green Heart Anon <3

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#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

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