#and I don’t want to rent because it feels like a waste of money | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

f1daydreamers · 10 months

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏]

gif credits: @u-u-piastri81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

Summary: Oscar is a visitor at your first art exhibition – not exactly his scene – but it's one that he contributed to financially to help you out, an upcoming artist he's taken a bit of a liking to.

Warnings: criticism but not always constructive, fluff, Reader and Oscar being cute, this man in a suit (audience may faint from the gifs), angst, maybe Oscar is a little out of character but I just upped his rizz by a solid 20% because I love him but he's way too shy to do any of this methinks :)

A/N: I know nothing about this profession icl but I got major black tie and exclusive event vibes from the gifs so this is what came out of it. I did a ton of research to make sure it wasn't too unrealistic but experience beats knowledge so if you guys read any things that need some correction, lmk!

Yeah, I never expected this to be so long but once I got to writing, I couldn't stop so hey, enjoy!

Word Count: 4.6k words (17 mins reading time avg)

…

Safe to say, this wasn’t Oscar’s scene.

Standing among collectors, art enthusiasts, curators, and industry professionals meant feeling a little out of place was a tad understated.

But he wanted to be here tonight. Of course, being invited is one thing but accepting the invitation comes with a whole new world of formalities he hadn’t prepared for.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, busy greeting and socialising with what looked like a few critics and journalists.

The notebooks in their hands were a dead giveaway but your hand drumming on your leg was another. You were anxious.

Oscar took a sip of his drink, the one he was offered when he received an entry pass coming through the venues' doors. He knew how much this evening meant to you, both in the months of planning and the dreams that preceded it.

Initially, the idea seemed farfetched, but as you dove straight into creating the collection, photographing it, staying up late to create statements that wholly captured the essence of your creative process, the once exciting prospect of submitting it to a gallery felt somewhat dissatisfying.

In a few conversations with Oscar, you’d shared your aspirations of seeing your portfolio bask in the limelight. However, the reality of organising a self-funded exhibition in a rented space would blow your budget out of the water.

You don’t know at what point but he’d made the decision to donate a significant sum of money to your artist fund, covering a major portion of the exhibition's expenses.

It helped you realise all those curious questions about possible venues, dates, and basic costs weren’t just to fuel his enthusiasm, but to sincerely offer his support.

You were grateful beyond what words could describe, and the least you could do was ask him to be here today.

You were nervous partially because you had critics and community leaders alike wandering around the space, conversing about your work you’d spent years dedicating blood, sweat and tears to.

But you were also nervous because he was here tonight.

Even if you’d drawn a squiggly line on a blank canvas, Oscar would marvel at it like it was the most beautiful thing on this planet, but tonight was when he was finally seeing your work in all its completion.

He brought your vision to life and the last thing you wanted to do was make him think his investment was a waste.

Last you’d checked, you hadn’t seen his brown wavy hair anywhere around the venue, his innocent smile playing on your mind even when you were entranced in conversation with fellow artists.

You stepped in front of a painting no one else currently seemed to be trained on, focusing on inhaling and exhaling your breaths, fidgeting with your fingers by your sides.

Tonight, was the most important day of your career by a mile.

“Excuse me.” Someone spoke up behind you and you inhaled a deep breath before whisking around to greet them. But your eyes grew soft, and your smile grew amicably at the man glancing downwards back at you.

“Do you know where I could find the host of the evening?” He asked, his smile mirroring yours, fiddling with the stem of his wine glass.

"Oscar," you breathed out, and the F1 driver had to force himself to disregard the palpable sense of relief that accompanied the utterance of his name.

The way it effortlessly rolled off your tongue, it left him wanting to hear you say it repeatedly.

“You made it.” He nodded his head, “I did.” Initially, he had doubts about attending, but considering the venue was conveniently located close to his hotel near Silverstone and his flight to Budapest wasn't until Monday evening, he managed to find the time to come.

You drew in a breath, "you look good." Your compliment was genuine, whenever you'd met up with Oscar or came across photos on Instagram, he was either in racing gear or in casual outfits. To see him in a suit was different. A good different.

"Thanks. Pretty sure I should be counting my breaths though." You chuckle as he looks down at himself, the shirt was a little smaller than he would've liked.

A testament to how life in Formula 1 was like and that his neck size had grown exponentially.

"Each one could be your last," you joked, adding on and he nodded.

"Exactly." His laugh culminated into a final chuckle, melting into a warm smile.

When you looked away, seeing the waiters you'd hired tonight refilling cups as people wandered around, Oscar took the opportunity to let his eyes drag over your figure.

"You look beautiful," his compliment drew a smile from you.

You briefly cast your gaze downward before lifting it to his chest then finally up to his eyes. "Thank you, Oscar."

He responded only with a curt nod; his eyes trained on your face before he tore them away to have a look around him.

"How's it going?"

You hummed, thinking about your answer. "It's okay. There's a few paintings that are getting lots of attention, others a little less."

"Did you expect that?" He asked and you reasoned, you knew when you began this collection that people would naturally gravitate more towards some pieces anyway, that's the advice you were given everywhere you went.

"Yeah, I'd be lying if I said I didn't." Oscar took a sip of some liquid courage before pointing at the painting you'd just been standing in front of with the rim of his glass.

"I like this one." You turned as he took steps towards it, his shoulder grazing yours. "This is the last one." You mentioned as he skimmed over the statements planted on the wall next to the artwork.

"I think it's an elderly couple, and the mirrors all around them are portals into a specific memory of their relationship." He said undisputedly. You look up at him, your mouth parting slightly in surprise.

"Yeah, how did you figure that out so quickly?"

"It's almost like you were brainstorming ideas to me on call a few months ago." You scoff, rolling your eyes but ultimately impressed by his memory.

He hadn't spoken much during that phone call, so you'd assumed he wasn't paying much attention to your endless rambles.

"I never realised you were actually listening." You softly said and Oscar turned his head to look at you.

"Every word." He reassured, and a warm feeling encompassed your chest at his affirmation.

His gaze traced over the painting once more. While he had never hesitated to express his belief in your talent, seeing your artwork displayed in such a way stirred a whirlwind of emotions inside of him.

He was proud of you and excited for you, knowing that you had undertaken this journey for your own sake, garnering an array of artistic admirers. It's no mean feat to organise an event like this, take a risk so early on in your career.

"I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you." You snap him out of his thoughts, turning your body towards him, standing a few feet away.

Oscar mimicked your movements, turning so he was facing you, and placed his now empty glass on a bar tray that a waiter had extended to him, refusing a refill.

"Why do you think you need to repay me? Remember, it was a donation." He said matter-of-factly. You let out a sigh.

Despite his repeated assurances that he expected nothing in return, you couldn't shake off the feeling of indebtedness that lingered in your thoughts.

You found yourself dwelling on the late-night conversations, wondering if your eagerness to discuss your plans had inadvertently conveyed desperation.

Your gaze drops and without hesitation, he reaches his hand out and gently slots it into yours, his thumb caressing over your skin in a soothing gesture. Your heart skips a beat or two, the warmth of his hand was relieving.

"This is the best way you can repay me. Living the dream." He smiles and you nod, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. His voice was a calming anchor amid your thoughts.

"I'll never forget how you made it possible though," a small smile graced your lips, and he let out a chuckle.

"Yeah, you never miss a chance to mention it," he quipped, his eyes dancing with amusement. You playfully rolled your eyes, a good-natured sigh escaping you as you did.

Oscar's hand retreated to his side, and a subtle longing for his touch flickered within you. Nevertheless, you mask it with a smile that grew as you exchanged a couple more jokes.

...

He courteously held the door ajar, giving a nod to a man entering the bathroom who appeared to appreciate the gesture. Letting the door close behind him, Oscar took out his phone to check the time.

Absentmindedly, he began scrolling through his notifications: a mix of sports updates, a message from his mum, one from Mark. Yet, none seemed particularly urgent.

Just as he was about to tap on one of the notifications, his attention was drawn upward to the sound of your voice.

You were engaged in conversation with a man, his journal held in his hands, and sunglasses perched atop his head. Oscar's gaze briefly went back to his phone screen; he made no overt effort to eavesdrop.

Despite this, fragments of your conversation found their way to his ears anyway.

"I must say, your work is quite disappointing. The lack of technical skill is evident in every piece." Oscar's eyebrows furrow as he observes openly, a marked departure from his earlier disinterested demeanour.

You clear your throat as you try to collect yourself, bringing your fingers up to your mouth to hide your quivering lip.

You had previously cautioned yourself that not everyone will like your work, but experiencing such candid criticism directly was far more destructive than you could have expected.

"Um, okay. What sort of things did you not like about it?" You asked, trying to find some sort of valuable insight from such a respected critic in your community.

"The colours are garish and clash horribly. It's clear that you have no understanding of colour theory or composition." You nod, gathering some form of strength to just take his words on the chin but you were failing rather miserably. Your stomach was sinking, and your eyes were watering slowly.

"It's a shame that your efforts have resulted in such subpar creations." Your jaw tightens and as you scramble for the right words to respond with in your mind, a hand presses into your lower back from behind.

"Excuse me. I want to purchase a piece, but I can't seem to find your sales assistant." The accent is unmistakable, and you muster a smile as you turn to face him.

"I'll help you." Your voice is unsteady, your emotions deflated.

"Thank you," Oscar responds, though his gaze carries a hint of concern. He moves to follow you but before he can do so, the critic extends his hand to grasp his arm, waiting until he's certain you're out of earshot.

"Coming from a collector, don't bother." He smirks, his conviction clear. Yet, the F1 driver's face remains impassive.

"Sorry, I don't remember asking you. Now, if you don't mind." He looks down at the grip on his arm, his fist clenching by his side. The critic seems taken aback at the blank expression looking back at him, devoid of any gratefulness.

He swallows before loosening his grip.

Oscar rounds the pillar just as you press down on the handle to the fire door exit at the distant end.

He contemplates whether he should grant you some space, but he wonders if doing so will only make matters worse.

Pausing briefly, he contemplates his choices before deciding to make his way toward the fire exit anyway. His hand firmly grasps the handle, and he proceeds to push open the door.

With your back turned towards him, you're unaware of his presence. Your palms are pressed against your face as a means of stifling your sniffles hence the closing of the door registers faintly, the sound hardly penetrating your thoughts.

It's only when the crunching of gravel beneath someone's shoes reaches your ears that you realise you're no longer alone. But oddly, you know there's only one person who it could be.

The combination of embarrassment, distress, and sheer exhaustion was what left you feeling so overwhelmingly emotional.

Aware that you don't want Oscar to witness you in this state, you quickly swipe at your cheeks, hastily erasing any traces of tears from your face.

You whisk around, smiling up at him and nodding your head. "I'm good Os. It's not always going to be a perfect score, right?" His heart swells at the nickname you called him, very few people did so, but hearing it from you felt special in a way.

"He's a dick," the F1 driver bluntly responds, his tone carrying a hint of anger.

You chuckle softly, but the sigh that follows is slightly shaky. A wave of heaviness crashes over you again as the critic's hurtful words echo in your mind, your stomach sinking in response.

Oscar picks up on the shift of emotion and his eyes soften at your teary and lowering expression.

Without a word, he opens his arms and pulls you into an embrace. You don't resist; instead, you bury your face in his shoulder, your shoulders trembling as silent tears escape your eyes.

His arms encircle you tightly, offering a comforting refuge as your emotions spill over again.

His chest rises and falls with each steady breath, the rhythm providing you with some comfort despite how irritated you're getting at yourself for letting one conversation bother you this much.

As he holds you, his chest aches both for your vulnerability and the anger he feels towards the critic who provoked it. You reluctantly pull away after a minute or so, a mixture of gratitude and sadness in your eyes.

But in the moment, you can't help but feel that the money he donated for the exhibition might have gone to waste, that your efforts fell short.

Disappointing your clients is business but disappointing him felt personal, he was the reason you even had a chance to do this, and it'd turned out horribly.

"I let you down," you say quietly, and Oscar's eyebrows knit together as he studies your expression.

"How? Every piece I love, Y/N." He responds, placing his hand on your forearm, his touch warm. It sends a flurry of goosebumps over your skin which you're sure he would've picked up on considering his attention to detail.

He positions his index finger under your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes which you do. Your legs suddenly feel like they're incapable of keeping you upright, your face warming under his gaze.

"You didn't let me down." He whispers.

Oscar's concern remains palpable as his hand doesn't fall back to his side. His eyes hold a depth of emotion, the colours in his eyes becoming more distinct.

The connection that you can sense increases, and it's as if the unspoken understanding between you becomes more profound in that moment.

His cologne surrounds you but it's his gaze that flickers to your lips, a fleeting but unmistakable gesture. You realise that he's leaning in closer and there's a fraction of a second when it feels like the world around you fades.

The possibility of his lips meeting yours feels tantalisingly close.

But just as the moment deepens, you're both interrupted by one of the assistants, their voice breaking through the charged atmosphere.

"Sorry," the assistant interjects, sounding somewhat hurried. "There're a few clients waiting to speak with you Y/N."

Oscar slowly pulls back; he tucks in his bottom lip between his teeth and his expression shifts from one of intimacy to one of polite neutrality.

He offers you a subtle smile, the connection lingering between you even as the assistant's words redirect your attention.

"Of course," you reply, your voice steady despite quite the hurricane of emotions storming inside of you. You look to the assistant, ready to face the responsibilities of the exhibition once again. As you move away, you steal a glance at him, his gaze locked onto you for a moment longer before he nods.

That damned connection between you and Oscar remains, but now only punctuated by unspoken possibilities.

...

"Thank you, ma'am." you say with a warm smile as the elderly woman clasps your hand, offering kind words about your artwork while draping her shawl over her shoulders.

Once she'd left, you looked around to see if there was anyone else remaining in the space. Oscar had left a while ago considering he was on a flight tomorrow to Budapest.

Though a tinge of disappointment lingered within you, you understood and bid him goodnight.

You wrapped up a little later than you would've liked, a couple of your pieces had sold so you had to coordinate transport for them.

For the remaining few, you'd wrapped them up, gathered the papers for each one before loading them into the van to have them delivered back to your studio.

Oscar eventually made it back to the space he'd rented on Airbnb, staying in a hotel for a week definitely wasn't something he was fond of doing, a neatly packaged box of takeout planted on the small table.

He threw the crumpled paper bag into the bin and settled onto the couch, his phone in hand. He opened Instagram, scrolling through his feed to pass the time it'd take for him to get sleepy.

As he tapped through the stories, your profile picture caught his eye. He felt a smile tug at his lips as he watched it whole. The familiar scenes of the exhibition unfolded before him – videos capturing the venue, the artwork.

His gaze lingered on the art as if he hadn't been there tonight, his mind wandering into the world you had created. It wasn't just the work itself that interested him; it was the glimpse they offered into your mind, your perspective, and the emotions you poured into your work.

The admiration he felt for your creativity was intertwined with the growing fondness he was developing for you as a person.

Once you'd reached home, you dropped on to the couch with a sigh of relief that the day was done.

So, when your phone started vibrating besides you, you groaned and brought it up to your ear, not bothering to take a look at the caller ID.

"Y/N," you closed your eyes and waited for the other person to respond. They stuttered first before speaking up, "should I - should I reply with my name, or do we just get into the conversation?"

You lightly gasped, chuckling and straightening up on the couch. "Oscar, sorry. I'm still in work mode I think." You rubbed your forehead and the F1 driver poked through his food with a fork on the other end.

"No harm done. You back from the venue?" He asked and you stretched your legs out in front of you, fiddling with the hem of your dress.

"Yeah, only just. Perfect timing, Piastri." He smiled at your response, "I pride myself in that."

"I'm sure you do." You joked teasingly and fell back on the couch again. The similar onset of warmth and goosebumps from earlier bubbled up again inside of you.

"I thought you would've knocked out by now." Oscar hums, swallowing his food as he traps his phone between his ear and shoulder, throwing the now empty box on to the coffee table in front of him.

"Yeah well, I needed to eat. Luckily for me, there was a long queue at every takeaway place tonight." He retorted sarcastically and you scoffed, "typical London."

He agreed wordlessly before shifting his body horizontally, propping his head up on the armrest, his legs splaying over the leather sofa.

"What did you end up getting?" He made a humming sound as he reached for the receipt he'd tossed carelessly aside, bringing it up to eye level.

"Caribbean chicken curry." He said slowly, squinting to read the half-printed letters. Your stomach rumbling beneath you helped you remember that you too hadn't eaten for majority of the day. Your last meal was breakfast with a few snacks you always have on hand.

"Sounds good. I'd kill for some chicken curry right now." You mumble and Oscar's head turns to look up at the clock hung on the wall above the television.

"How 'bout I bring some?" He asks nonchalantly and your heart skips, you stutter in your response, glancing at the digital clock blinking at you from the corner table.

"You'd do that?" You say, a little more high-pitched than you would've preferred.

He smiles, refraining to say something corny. "Yeah, well I mean it's not my bedtime for another hour so..." He trails off thus leaving you to make the decision.

You don't even care about the food anymore, your stomach is doing somersaults from the mere thought of seeing him twice in one day.

"Only if it's alright with you. If you need to sleep, please sleep." You insist and there's a pause, you could swear you hear keys jangling on the other end of the phone before Oscar confirms.

"I'll be there in a bit."

...

You're changed into some slightly more flattering pyjamas than your regular animated giraffe ones when you hear a knock on your door. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you walk the length of the hallway and reach for the doorknob.

Giving it a couple of moments, you open the door to find Oscar standing there, a warm smile on his face that mirrors your own feelings.

He's holding a paper bag up and you smile, "my saviour. Come in."

He slides past you, toeing his trainers off and pushing them up to the wall so they weren't in the direct pathway, allowing you to lead him into the living room.

He places the bag on to your wooden dining table and you sigh in delight, the smell of the food faintly wafting out of it.

"How much do I owe you?" He shakes his head, letting you take the box out of the bag.

"Only your eternal gratitude," he replies, his lips curving into a smile as he takes in the sight of your light expression, your eyes lit with appreciation.

"You already have that." You chuckle.

Eventually, you begin eating, all the while holding a conversation. With each passing minute, a subtle worry creeps in - that he might decide to leave soon. Not that you're against him getting his rest, but your own enjoyment of his company is growing stronger by the second.

The idea of the evening ending prematurely becomes less and less appealing. The warmth of his presence, the humour in his words, the hesitance you initially felt about him leaving transformed into a silent plea for him to stay, at least a little longer.

"I'm going to go up and use the bathroom, head over to the couch, make yourself comfortable." You insist and Oscar nods. His feelings he was aware of when he reached back to his place had tripled since he'd got here.

His leg had been bouncing the entire duration he'd been talking, he was nervous but albeit not understandably. He'd visited your place a few times now, he'd known you for nearly a year.

Nothing about the fluttery sensation in his belly, the excitement prior to seeing you, the attraction, the thoughtfulness, made any sense to him.

But at the same time, they made perfect sense. He likes you. A whole lot.

Realising he was getting a bit warm, he pulled the hoodie over his neck to reveal just a plain white tee underneath.

Tossing it on to the dining room chair he was previously sat on, he plops on to the couch, bringing the calf of his right leg up to rest on the knee of his left, his arm outstretching on the back of the couch.

You eventually return, having brushed your teeth since the aftertaste of the curry wasn’t a very pleasant one in your mouth.

“Do you piss for that long?" Oscar asks curiously, locking his phone and sliding it on to the table.

You scoff and feign offence as you sit next to him just a few inches away. "I don't actually, even if I did, what's it to you?" You tease and he shrugs, his lower arm draping off the couch casually, his fingertips brushing close to your shoulder.

"I was bored," he admits, his explanation falling a bit flat.

You raise an eyebrow, a mockingly sympathetic expression on your face. "Poor Oscar, suffering from boredom in my humble abode. My heart aches for you." He smirks, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he shakes his head at your antics.

His eyes sparkle with amusement, "Well, I must say your empathy is truly heartwarming."

"That's just me, a paragon of compassion," you quip, a mischievous glint in your eyes. His proximity has your heart racing, and you're acutely aware of the playful tension that's building between you.

He tilts his head, his gaze holding yours as he leans in slightly. "You know, I was half expecting you to beg for my forgiveness."

You roll your eyes, your gaze locked on to his, you didn't mean for them to glance down to his lips, but it didn't skip past his notice either.

Your heart was hammering in your chest and the silence that followed afterwards definitely gave Oscar enough time to be able to pick up on it.

"Please forgive me Oscar, please?" You reduce your words to a whisper and he smiles, refusing to waste another second and he instantly ducks his head to catch your lips in a fervent kiss.

His actions catch you off guard, the sensation electrifying and sending a jolt of surprise through your system.

Your thoughts scatter as the world seems to narrow down to the point of contact between your lips. The kiss is eager and filled with a mixture of longing and curiosity, as if both of you have been dancing around this moment for far too long.

Your heart continues racing, and time feels suspended as his touch sends shivers up and down your spine.

The sudden intimacy of it all is exhilarating, and you find yourself responding without hesitation, your fingers instinctively finding their way to his arm, your body moving a fraction closer to his.

A soft moan escapes you, and Oscar slides his hand beneath your top, pressing his palm against your waist. A squeeze of your skin hints at you to move back slightly, creating the room needed for him to push you down on to your back.

Your lips detach for a moment as he positions himself over you, lowering his head seconds later to press them together again.

His face was level with yours when he eventually pulled away to catch his breath, and let you catch yours, his arm propping him up besides your head.

"Isn't it your bedtime?" He chuckles softly, his fingers toying with a few strands of your hair.

"I'll just have to use the plane's naptime feature." You laugh, bringing your hand up to push his hair out of his eyes.

His gaze flickers across your face, capturing the traces of your faint smile lines and the tiny beauty mark adorning your skin.

He leans in, planting a tender kiss on the mole. Meanwhile, your fingertips journey to the nape of his neck, exploring the contours of his hair.

He grins boyishly when he picks his head up again. "I think I could stay here forever," he admits, his voice a soft confession.

You playfully raise an eyebrow. "Oh really? What if the plane's naptime feature gets jealous?"

He chuckles, a low, melodious sound. "Well, I guess it'll just have to deal with a bit of competition," he remarks before his lips find yours once again.

...

Masterlist

#oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #formula one #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #mclaren #formula 1 #f1 2023 #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri imagine #formula one imagine

655 notes · View notes

absurdthirst · 5 months

Text

Services Paid For {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 23.1k

Warnings: Infidelity, sex work, sex for cash, prostitution, mentions of safe words/limits, blackmail, bondage, restraints, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, toys, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, cock warming, unprotected sex, cum play, alcohol, drunken flirting, spanking, oral sex (female receiving), cum eating, face slapping, anal fingering, anal sex, rough treatment, anger, miscommunication and angst, harsh/derogatory names, apologies, guilt, make up sex, mistress arrangement, sickness, comfort.

Comments: Dave quietly gets the sexual satisfaction he needs by paying for it. No emotional attachments, just sex for cash. Which is how you end up in his apartment, surprised that man what you sometimes babysit for wants to pay for your pussy.

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You sigh as you look in your pantry, the bare shelves a painful reminder of how screwed you are. College was hard and the restaurant you had been waiting tables at had suddenly closed after a failed health inspection meaning that your income had stopped.

Reluctantly you pulled out your phone and punched a text to your best friend.

‘So, this escorting thing… you promise that the guy is legit? He won’t make me do anything I don’t want to? And always pays?’

She had told you about a guy she had met on a dating app a while ago, she had fucked him a few times but he didn’t like to sleep with the same person more than twice. No emotions. No feelings. Just someone to scratch and itch and he’d pay handsomely for their discretion.

He had reached out to her and asked if she knew anyone free that weekend because he needed some relief, and she knew about your predicament and said she’d speak to you.

Initially you had refused to even hear it, saying you’d ‘rather starve’ than let some ‘bored two pump chump husband’ fuck you.

But with rent due and your tummy rumbling, desperate times turn to desperate measures.

Dave checks the burner phone. A prepaid cell that isn't tied to him in any way. Bought with cash in some rinky-dink store, not even bought by him. One that was safe for him to use for his various transgressions that Carol doesn't ever need to know about, though he's sure that she's somewhat aware of what he does. She couldn't be that stupid to not guess.

He loves his wife but she's......boring. Unable or unwilling to give him what he wants sexually and not even open to discussing it. Sex is routine, bland. Every Thursday after the kids have gone to bed, he's allowed to fuck her. Missionary, with the lights off, her tits off limits since before Alice was born. He never truly got the release he wanted and he didn't even want anything too shocking. It wasn't like he was into heavy BDSM, just some bondage, spanking and face fucking. He wanted to cum over a woman's tits and have her eat his spend. Or let him bend her over and finger her ass while he fucks her cunt. So now the best option for him was to discreetly pay for it. His last girl had been used too many times but she's said she has a friend who could use the money. So now he's waiting for the text.

‘She’s down. A little shy, not the most sexually experienced but open to being used as long as hard limits are discussed. She’s okay with anal play, but doesn’t want anal sex. No fisting. And no waste play. Everything else is on the table. Doesn’t want to tell you her real name, so is fine with casual endearments. Saturday at 7? Usual spot? Half the cash upfront and the rest as she’s leaving.’

Larissa texts Dave, happy that you’ve reached out for help seeing as you refused her offer to buy you some groceries, at least you’ll be able to eat this way. Dave is safe, not the friendliest or the chattiest but he’s safe. Respects the word no and honors safe words, limits and always pays. The fact he always makes his partners cum and is fucking gorgeous is just an added bonus to what will be a night of pure pleasure.

‘Send her the address. 7 is fine. Tell her to text if she's going to be late or backs out.’ Dave hums in approval, cock twitching as he wonders about this new girl. What she looks like doesn't really matter to him. He's attracted to all kinds of women. As long as she's eager to let him fuck her. It's a release, not a fucking relationship.

He slips the phone back into his briefcase and sighs, checking his watch and striding into the kitchen to pour another cup of coffee. Needing to finish getting the girls ready for school so he can go to work.

Larissa sends you the information, and confirms again that you’re in safe hands. You text her a quick thank you before pouring yourself the last of your cereal and milk.

You’re undeniably nervous, anxiety taking the front seat but you can’t help but be excited too. Having never slept with a stranger before makes this new and exciting, and you trust Larissa when she says he’s a good fuck.

Finishing up your cereal, you grab your bag and make your way to class, trying to distract yourself from thinking about what he might look like. You know from the area of the apartment you’re meeting him in that he’s good for the money, it’s a good thirty minute drive away over on the good side of town.

It's a good damn thing that it's Friday. Only having to wait another day before he can fuck away the stress of the week. Maybe this inexperienced girl Larissa knows will let him spank her. Anal's off the table but that's okay. There's a lot he can do to a cunt, a mouth. Even eating her ass would be more than Carol let him do. She barely wanted oral. There were times he wondered if she had a lover but it just seems like she's sexually repressed. Lingering Catholic guilt even though she's not stepped foot in a church in years.

The day goes by in a busied blur, you had agreed to clean up after a meeting for some of the faculty because any leftover food is yours to take home and before you know it, you’re filling up a tray with sandwiches, chips and sweet treats that no one had touched.

On the walk home all you can think about is your plans for the next day, whether you should bring anything and what you should wear. Figuring that if Larissa is telling the truth, you won’t be wearing it for long anyway, but still wanting to look like you’ve made an effort. Nerves flood your system as you round the block to your apartment, your hunger being pushed away by your anxiety. A new constant battle of ‘am I really going to do this?’ Playing over and over in your head.

You settle on yes. You haven’t found another job yet, and you refuse to move back in with your parents.

Saturday morning is routine in the York household. Dance practice or gymnastics, whatever is written on the calendar for the girl's activities. First thing in the morning, followed up by lunch out and ice cream while they play in the park. It's a picture perfect view of a loving family, but Dave is constantly thinking about later tonight. The apartment he keeps for his dirty little habit is clean and ready. He has someone come in every week to change the sheets and dust. He can afford it and his girls never go without. He doesn't feel bad about this. It's a need, just like those massages Carol insists are necessary for her to be a good mother. This is necessary for him to be an attentive and loving husband and father.

You sleep in as late as you can, having spent half the night watching a new series and being unable to sleep due to nerves. Larissa texts you a list of what not to do, and ensures that you won’t ask him anything too personal.

You have your outfit laid out on the bed, a simple pink sundress and a matching lacy pink lingerie set. Nothing too fancy, but enough to show that you’ve made an effort for him.

’This is a one time thing,’ you reassure yourself as you start to get ready, nerves steadily increasing as the time ticks by.

‘$500’. Larissa texts, confirming the amount you’ll be paid for the evening. Enough to buy groceries and put towards the final part of your monthly rent. And with that, there’s no backing out now.

“Babe, I’ve got to run into the office.” Dave checks his watch and is satisfied that he will have plenty of time to set out any toys he wants to use before the girl shows up. “I’ll be a few hours, so don’t wait up.”

****

You arrive at the address a few minutes before seven, anxiety coursing through your veins as you make your way to the building, about to press the buzzer but the door swings open and the person leaving holds it open for you to enter.

‘It’s nice,’ is your first thought as you enter the building, the hall clean and looked after with fresh flowers on each windowsill. You rock up and down on your tiptoes as you wait for the elevator, stepping into it with a large inhale the second the doors open and pressing down on the button for the top floor.

Dressed in casual clothes, Dave takes off his shoes and twists the rope in his hands. It’s soft and sturdy, perfect for Shibari and he wants to tie the girl up tonight. The idea already has his cock half hard and he wonders if she will show up.

After standing outside his apartment for a few minutes, you build up the courage to knock on the door. Knocking loudly three times before taking a step back and waiting to see who’ll be fucking you tonight.

Dave sets the rope down and his feet slap against the cool marble floors of the apartment. Striding to the door, he doesn’t bother looking through the peephole, just reaching for the handle and letting the door swing open.

The door whips open and just as you’re ready to introduce yourself with the fake name you had decided on in the elevator, it’s like someone is dumping an ice cold bucket of water over your head. “Fuck.” You murmur. “Shit. I-I, Mr. York, I must have gotten the address wrong…” you start to garble off.

Dave’s emotions rush through surprise, anger and confusion but he realizes that the girl Larissa was talking about is you. The girl that Carol hires sometimes when she wants a date night or there’s some function they can’t bring the girls to. He glances around to find the hallway deserted and reaches out, grabbing your arm and dragging you into his apartment. “What are you doing here?”

You yelp as he drags you into his apartment, “I’m here to meet someone,” you say quickly, “My friend set it up for me. I must have put the address into uber wrong or something.”

“Let me guess.” He smirks and chuckles darkly. “Larissa?”

“Yeah,” you say, as your face heats up, “I didn’t know it was you.”

He’s never imagined fucking you, out of respect for the fact that you interact with his wife and kids, but he also never imagined you would sell yourself. He leans back. “Strip.”

You’re not sure why you don’t question it, why you don’t immediately turn around and leave the apartment that you now know belongs to Dave York. Husband of Carol York - parents of the two little girls you’ve babysat for for the past year. But you don’t. Instead you do as you’re told. Still standing at the entrance of his apartment, you begin to shed your clothes. Your jacket, dress and bra dropping to the floor as you stand there just in your panties.

“Naked.” Dave can’t even bark the order, but he’s reaching for the rope, the urge to bind you overwhelming right now.

You nod before reaching down and dipping your fingertips under the waistband of your panties and pushing them down your legs.

He reaches for you again, leaving the pile of clothes in the entryway and pulling you into the living room. The rope in his hands as he pushes you down to your knees and unravels the soft binding material.

“Mr. York,” you say with a gasp, as you realize what he’s about to do. “Are you still going to fuck me?”

“Shut up.” He grunts, bending down and pulling your arms behind you so he can tie your wrists together and then bind your arms to your body.

You don’t argue with him, instead you’re as pliant as you can be, letting him position you and tie you up with ease.

Next come your legs. Making sure they are spread as he ties you up. Pussy on display as your thighs are bound to your calves and rendering you completely immobile.

When he’s done, he stands and moves over to his wallet, pulling out two crisp one hundred dollar bills and one fifty. Half the agreed upon price and he walks over with a smirk. Tucking it into the ropes around your breasts and making sure that the bills are completely visible.

“Do you like what you see?” You ask, as his eyes dip down to your glistening folds.

He doesn’t answer, pulling out his phone and opening it up so he can snap several pictures of you on display. Nude and bound with the money he is paying you for your body on display. Showing what a whore you are. His dark eyes find yours. “If you breathe a word of this to Carol, I’ll send these to your parents.” He threatens, holding up the phone.

It feels like a shot to the chest, “Why would I tell her?” You say, panic rising in your voice. “I would never, I don’t want anyone to know how desperate I am for money. And my parents… they’d never speak to me again.”

“Good.” Now that you understand one another, Dave sets the phone down and takes the bills out of the ropes. Putting them down on the table next to the sofa and humming as he looks at you. “Fuck, you are going to fuck me for a few hundred dollars? Your cunt worth it?”

“Yes,” you say with a shaky breath, “It’s tight. You can be as rough as you like and you don’t need to make me cum.”

Dave grunts, imagining you must be tight. “I make the women I’m with cum. Even the ones I pay for.” He squats down and slides his fingers through your folds, surprised to find you already starting to drip arousal. “You like the idea of being used?” He asks, knowing that your limits need to be discussed before he fucks you.

“I like the idea of you taking what you need from me,” you admit, “Using me for your pleasure.”

“That’s what I will do.” He promises, smirking as he stands up again. “Right now, you’re gonna suck my cock.”

“Yes, Mr. York,” you say, feeling your arousal begin to drip down your thighs.

“Don’t call me that.” Reaching out, he taps the side of your cheek sharply. Not enough to hurt, but he likes the gasp you let out.

“Sorry,” you say with a gasp, “What should I call you?”

“Sir, or Dave.” He knows that things have changed since there is a personal knowledge of each other. “What do you want to be called?”

“You can call me whatever you like, sir,” you say, as your eyes dip down to the bulge in his pants.

“Good girl.” He likes a woman who is accommodating. Reaching down, he flicks the button of his jeans open. “Tell me what you don’t want done to you.”

“No fisting,” you say quietly, watching him intensely as he works the button on his jeans. “No anal sex and no watersports.”

“Anything else?” He knows about those but now that you are here, he wants to make sure you have not thought of anything else.

“I don’t think so,” you say with the tiniest shrug. “What are you planning to do with me?”

“Anything I fucking want.” He smirks, dragging his zipper down and pulling his hard cock out of his pants. He pushes them down and kicks them off before pulling his shirt over his head. “Right now, I’m going to gag you on my cock.”

“Yes sir.” Your eyes go wide at the sight of him, and your pussy clamps down around nothing.

He’s gotta give you credit, you don’t refuse. Opening your mouth in anticipation of him slapping his cock against your tongue. Larissa said you weren’t too experienced and he wonders why that is.

You wait patiently for him to feed you his cock, looking up at him all doe eyed and innocent.

The first thrust of his cock into your mouth isn’t gentle. It’s not a slow acclimatization to his length. He makes sure that he hits the back of your throat and pushes further still, feeling you choke and gag on him.

The noises you make aren’t attractive, as you gag around him. Fat tears are already welling up in your eyes and threatening to fall as his fingers grip onto your jaw.

“Yessss.” He hisses, pulling his hips back and rocking them forward just as deep. Enjoying the way your eyes widen and your throat threatens to reject the length pushing past your gag reflex. If you get sick, he will just pull away.

You hollow your cheeks, and suck the best you can as he fucks your face. You wish you could hold onto his thighs to keep you steady but the ropes keep your hands in place. You can’t take your eyes off of his face, even when the tears start to stream, loving the look of pure bliss on his face.

His fingers slide from your jaw to the back of your head. Holding onto you while his hips rock forward, again and again. Making sure that he keeps pushing deeper until the hairs at the base of his cock press against your lips.

You gag louder around his cock as he pushes deeper, trying to catch your breath and breathe through your nose. You swallow hard a few times, and swirl your tongue around him.

“Shit.”‘Dave hisses, impressed that you aren’t trying to pull back. To compose yourself to make yourself ‘look prettier’ while he’s fucking your throat. He hates that. Sex is sloppy, messy in the best kind of way. He wants the tears and the saliva dripping down your chin.

You look up at him, staring down at you, his cock heavy on your tongue and wonder what he’s about to do next. You don’t have to see yourself to know that you look a mess, mascara must be streaming, spit has started to roll down your neck and your eyes are blurry with tears.

He feels himself start to get close, his body tensing and he pulls his cock out of your mouth with a wet pop. Wrapping his hand around his cock and slickly stroking it for a few moments before letting go.

You feel like you shouldn’t enjoy watching him stroke his cock as much as you do, but something about him being inches from your face and touching himself makes you slip out a moan.

“Are you on birth control?” Normally he uses a condom, but he wants to see his cum splattered on your cunt.

“I have an IUD,” you say softly, “I got tested when they inserted it and I actually haven’t had sex since.”

Dave groans and his cock twitches. “I’ll pay you another $200 if you let me fuck you raw. Cum in your pussy.” He offers.

“You don’t have to pay more,” you say, confused, “I already agreed to let you do whatever to me.”

“I never fuck someone without a condom.” Dave informs you. “If I’m fucking you raw or cumming inside your cunt, I pay extra.” He knows what other girls charge and he’s not going to take advantage.

“Okay, sure, yes,” you say with a few nods of your head, “You don’t usually cum inside the other girls?”

“No.” He kneels down and swipes his fingers through your dripping folds and groans. “None. Never without a condom.”

You keen immediately at his touch, soft moans dripping from your mouth as he touches your soft skin. “You can fuck me however you need, sir.”

“Do you cum from sex?” Dave asks, fingers slipping inside you and curling up as you sit on the floor of his living room.

“No,” you admit, with a gasp as he pushes two fingers inside of you.

He groans when you clench down around his fingers and he nods. “Then I’ll make you cum with a toy.”

“I don’t think I have a g-spot,” you say, face heating up, “I meant what I said… you don’t need to worry about me. I’m just here for you to use.”

Rolling his eyes, he pulls his fingers out of your cunt so he can untie your legs. Pulling you to your feet when he has them loose. “I’m going to do what I want.” He corrects you. “And the people I fuck, they cum.”

You nod silently a few times, standing in front of him still completely bare with your arms still tied. “Yes, sir.”

“Lay down on the bed, on your back.” He orders as he guides you towards the one bedroom in the apartment. “I’m going to tie your legs back up.”

Silently you do as you’re ordered, sinking down on the very comfortable large bed and waiting patiently for him.

He likes that you don’t argue. Don’t even look nervous. You are cool and collected, although you still give off an innocent aura. Bending your legs back again and tying you back up. Spreading your cunt wide for him to admire and use. “Now….are you comfortable?” He asks. “You’re going to be fucked for a long time in this position.”

“I’m comfortable,” you confirm, with a small smile. “Larissa said you like the traffic light system?”

“Red, yellow, green.” Dave confirms with a nod as he stands up again and moves over to a display cabinet with all the toys he has.

“I’ve never used it,” you say as you watch him, “But it sounds simple enough.”

“Red, I stop.” He explains as he decides in a heavy duty wand. “Yellow, I slow down and check with you.” Moving over he also picks up a pair of nipple clamps. Your nipples would look amazingly swollen and puffy from the pressure of the clamps. “Green, keep going. You are good with everything that I’m doing.” He turns around to come back over to the bed. “Just because I’m paying to use your body, doesn’t mean you don’t get a say.”

“Sounds good,” you say, still watching the back of him. “You’ll tell me if I’m not doing what you like, right? or if I'm doing something wrong?”

“You won’t do something wrong.” He assures you with a chuckle. “Hard to take a cock wrong.”

“I’m pretty sure that every other girl you’ve had in this bed was more experienced than me,” you say with a shaky breath, “I just… you’re paying a lot of money. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“I am paying a lot of money.” Dave coos, kneeling on the bed. “For a hole to fuck. To do what I want with your body and have you cum for me.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, as he inches closer. You’ve noticed how attractive he is before, but you’ve never been this close. The urge to please him is almost as overwhelming as he is.

He smirks, very happy with your easy agreement. “I’m going to put these in your nipples.” He holds up the clamps. “They will hurt but feel good too.”

“Anything you want,” you say, as you stare at the shiny pieces of metal in his hands.

Dave sets the wand down and carefully clamps the devices around your hard nipples and he feels the way your body arches up and he hums. “Color?”

“Green.” You look down at the wand and gulp, having never used one yourself.

He nods, tightening the clamps until your nipples are tight little buds being squeezed out from the top of the clamps, making him smirk at the sight and flick his finger over them just to hear you whimper.

“Dave,” you whimper quietly, as he smirks down at you. It feels good, a little painful but you like the way they feel.

“They will feel even better later.” He tells you, shuffling forward and picking up the wand.

“Yeah?” You ask, as he places a hand on your thigh, while switching on the wand.

“I’m going to have my cock inside you.” He explains, pressing the wand to the inside of your thighs to let you feel the intensity. “Let you cum around me.”

You gasp at the vibrations from the wand, and nod your head. “That sounds perfect.”

He teases the wand around your clit while he takes his cock in his hand, pressing the head against your folds and sliding it up and down to slick himself up. “Green?”

The loud moan you make makes your cheeks burn, “Green, oh fuck, that feels so good.”

“It does.” He grunts, notching himself at your entrance and starts to slowly push inside you as he moves the wand to your clit.

You find yourself staring at his lips, watching as he snarls his teeth behind them as he slots himself inside of you, “You’re so thick.”

He groans, pushing himself deeper as you flutter around him. Until he’s completely filling you, his hips pressing against the juncture of your thighs and he twitches inside you. “Now, be a good girl and tell me how this feels.”

“So fucking good,” you say between breathy moans, the wand pulsing against your clit nicely that you think you’re getting close already. “How do I feel?”

“Hot.” Dave grunts. “Tight.” He watches you, tilting the wand a bit more and turning it up another notch.

“Worth the money?” You say with a giggle, before biting down on your lip to stop yourself from screaming.

“Every fucking penny.” He grunts, wondering why you are selling yourself for money. He won’t ask now, just wants to enjoy this.

You feel your walls clench down around him, and he notches against something delicious inside of you. “Fuck,” you murmur, as he presses the wand against your clit, “Always thought you were so fucking sexy.”

He doesn’t really care if you found him sexy. All that matters is how you are feeling right now, what you are letting him do. He twitches when he feels you clench again. “Your little pussy likes the wand.”

“My little pussy likes you,” you say, correcting him.

He grunts, smirking as he pulls the wand up for just a moment before he puts it back down on your clit.

You hiss as he places back against your clit, you know you’re seconds away from choking his cock with your pussy, “I’m gonna cum,” you mumble over and over as your pussy grips his cock.

“Good girl.” He groans, watching your eyes flutter and shut right before your mouth drops open in a loud cry.

You hear him groan as you clamp down around him hard, your orgasm ripping through you as cry his name over and over. The wand is still firmly pressed against your clit as you ride out your high.

Only when your entire body is shaking does he pull the wand away from your clit. Your pussy flooded with your cum and he rocks his hips, hearing his cock squelch. “One more? Or you want me to fuck you now?”

“Whatever you want,” you gasp, “Fuck, that was incredible.”

“One more.” He decides with a chuckle, turning the wand back on. “This time I’m going to move.”

You nod to let him know you’re listening, as he pulls on your ropes, before switching the wand back on. “Still green.” You say before he asks.

“Good girl.” He groans as he starts to move inside your cunt. Loving the way that you grip him, hold him tight in your walls.

“Fuck,” you moan, as one of his hands grip tightly on your hip. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Don’t think about my cock.” He groans. “Concentrate on your clit. The wand. Does it feel good?”

“So so good,” you say, as you concentrate on the little vibrations.

He grunts, keeping his thrusts shallow so he can feel every time you clench. “You’re gonna cum again.” He demands.

“Yes, Sir,” you say as your walls flutter around him, and your hips do everything to seek out more. “Gonna c-cum.”

“Hmmmm.” He grunts, watching you as he keeps pushing his hips, keeps feeding you his cock again and again. Listening to the obscene sounds of your cunt and his cock pushing in and out of it.

You cum devastatingly hard, everything going black as you start to convulse around him. A loud scream of his name tunnels out your mouth and bounces off the walls as you choke his cock with your quivering cunt.

This time Dave pulls the wand away, tossing it down and leaning over you. His thrusts sharpening, his hips snapping forward roughly as he fucks you through the tremors of your orgasm.

Every snap of his hips is enough to make your breath hitch, his pace is almost relentless as he fucks into you with all his strength. You feel him notch against paradise inside of you, a place you’ve never discovered as he continues a delicious assault on your pussy.

The moment his hips tilt down, he feels your reaction. The gasp and arching of your back giving away that you do have a g-spot after all. “There?” He hisses through clenched teeth. “Right there?”

“Yes,” you gasp, as he purposely shreds up against it, “Oh, fuck, Dave!”

“That’s it.” He groans. “That’s it, right there. Gonna make you cum.”

“Please,” you beg, as he fucks up into that spot with ease, making you moan his name over and over as you gush around him.

Dave grunts, sweat rolling down his temples as he buries his cock again. Shifting his weight, he takes hold of one of the clamps around one nipple and tugs it until it pulls off your sensitive flesh with a sharp snap.

You gasp as a sharp pain shoots through you, “Fuck,” you gasp again, feeling his cock twitch inside of you.

“Cum.” He groans, wanting to feel it again before he cums.

Your body immediately obeys his commands, and for the third time you’ve cumming hard around his cock. Exhaustion starts to rise in your bones as pleasure rolls through you in harsh waves.

When you clench down around him again, Dave snarls, rocking his hips even harder as he chases his own pleasure. Feeling the tingle at the base of his spine and tensing as his thrusts become sloppy. “Fuck.”

“Fill me up, sir,” you beg beneath him, “I wanna feel you drip out of me.”

That does it for him. The plea for his cum makes him groan. Pushing deep for one more thrust and pulsing deep inside you. Hot spurts of his seed filling you up and coating your quivering walls as he groans out your name.

You lay there sated, not that you’re able to move, but you don’t mind. Inhaling his scent and listening to his jagged breaths as he softens inside of you.

“Shit.” Dave groans, knowing he needs to move, to untie you but he wants to stay for another moment. “Color?”

“Green,” you giggle, “Should I be asking you the same question?”

“No.” He grunts as he finally pulls away, smirking as he looks down at his cum pushing out from around his cock. “I was the one calling the shots.” Reaching for the rope, he starts to untie you and massage your limbs.

“That was amazing,” you say, “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” Dave hums, pointing towards the bathroom. “You can clean up, shower if you want before you go.”

You’re unsure if it’s the right thing to do but you can’t help yourself, before walking towards the bathroom, you reach over and place a gentle kiss on his cheek before making your way out of the room.

Dave frowns but he doesn’t move, watching you disappear into the bathroom before he stands up. Opting to clean up in the small half bath, he redresses and starts to clean the wand and clamps before putting them back and winding the ropes up.

Fully dressed and all cleaned up, you make your way back into the living room. Unsure how to approach the subject of collecting the rest of your pay.

Dave reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet when you walk into the room. The entire apartment looks like it had before you had walked in, save for the sheets needing to be changed. He pulls out the $450 dollars he owes you and holds it out for you to take.

“Thank you,” you say, feeling a little embarrassed about taking payment for what you just did. “I, uh, won’t tell anyone, not just because of the photos. Thank you, Dave.”

“Why are you selling yourself?” He asks, tilting his head curiously. “Are you in trouble?”

You choke back an awkward laugh, “No. I’m not in trouble, I just… I lost my job. Rent is due. And I don’t want to go back home full time. You’re actually the first person I’ve seen.”

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking about what you’ve told him. “Do you want to come back next Saturday?” He asks, giving you the option. “Same time, same payment.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, “I mean, yeah, that would be great. Tonight was fucking incredible.”

“Don’t text my regular phone.” He warns you, pulling out his burner phone and holding it out for you to send a text message to yourself. “Don’t put the number under my name.”

You nod in agreement and send yourself a blank text. “Is there anything you want me to bring? Or wear?”

“Just yourself.” Dave shakes his head. “You don’t have to wear anything special, you won’t be wearing it for long.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you next week then, Dave. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He walks you to the door and closes it behind you. Frowning as he keeps his hand on the door after you walk out. It had been a surprising turn of events but he is interested to see if you show up next week.

The drive home is quick, and you find yourself immediately craving sleep. You think about the evening as you snuggle up in bed, how surprised you were when it was Dave that had opened the door and how guilty you feel about how much you wanted him.

You shake your head as you let sleep takeover, dreaming about large hands keeping you still and husky voices making demands that have your pussy clenching.

****

“David, we should have a date night.” Carol looks up at him from her makeup vanity with a small pout. “It’s been months since we’ve gone out and it’s Thursday.” She sends him a coy smile, biting her lip. Obviously thinking that a date would make the Thursday night sex even better.

“Sure honey.” Dave’s eyes match hers in the mirror before he turns back to tying his tie and he says your name. “Why don’t you give her a call and see if she can watch the kids tonight?” You obviously need the money and he wants to make sure you aren’t going to say anything. “We can order the girls pizza for dinner and go out.”

‘Hey honey, are you free for a few hours tonight? Me and Dave need a date night. Carol.’

You read the next a few times, and feel the guilt bubble up in your stomach. ‘The money would help so much right now,’ you think to yourself.

‘Sure. What time do you need me there?’ You type back and hit send before you can change your mind.

Carol grins and looks up from her phone. “She can. What time?” She asks.

“Tell her 6.” He pours his coffee and takes a sip. “That way you can get ready without the kids hanging on you.”

‘Can you be here for six?’ She types back a few minutes later, and you take a sip of your coffee and sigh.

‘Six sounds great. See you tonight.’

“Thank you David.” Carol smiles and steps up to Dave, snagging his cup and stealing a sip of his coffee. “We will have fun tonight.” She promises, leaning up on her toes to kiss him.

Dave hums, kissing her back but aware that he shouldn’t deepen the kiss past that point. “We will.” He nods, checking his watch. “But I’ve got to go to work now.” He steals another kiss before turning away. “Love you.”

****

You don’t have any classes today, so you spend the day cleaning your apartment and doing an essay that’s due early next week. Occasionally looking up and watching as the clock ticks off the hours.

Just before five you decide to have a shower, taking the time to shave your legs and deeply condition your hair before getting out and pulling on the dress you had laid out on your bed just before.

Anxiety bubbles in your tummy as you turn onto his street, admiring the rows of lush lawns and expensive cars, before pulling up onto his drive. Careful not to park behind his car, as not to block him in.

Dave steps out of the shower right as the doorbell rings. “Girls!” He shouts down the stairs. “Let the babysitter in!” He had gotten in just ten minutes earlier and was a little behind getting ready himself.

“Hey, honey,” you say as Molly whips open the door, with a large grin. “You ready for a fun evening?”

“Yeah!” She bounces on her toes happily. “Daddy said we are ordering pizza!” Pizza cures all in the York household, the girls could live off bread, sauce and cheese if their parents would let them.

“Sounds yummy,” you say, as you step into the house. “Pizza and a movie?”

“That sounds good.” She bites her lip. “Can we watch Tangled?”

You tap your chin a few times, and then break out in a huge smile and before announcing, “My favorite!” Watching as she giggles happily. You follow her down the hall and into the kitchen, where Alice is happily coloring in at the table. “Hi sweetie.”

“Hi.” Alice chirps before reapplying herself to her coloring. “Mommy and daddy are getting ready. Daddy said he was running ‘hella late’, whatever that means.”

“Oh,” you say with a little giggle, “Just an adult way of saying super late.”

“Ohhhh.” She shrugs and grins. “He was saying bad words as he ran upstairs.”

“Was he really?” You gasp, “Naughty daddy.”

“Don’t be a tattle tale.” Molly huffs, she always likes it when her daddy curses. It’s funny because he’s always so careful most of the time.

“Don’t worry, Molly, I won’t say anything. Do you guys want some juice?”

Dave rushes downstairs, dressed as the doorbell peels for the second time. “I’ll get it!” He calls out, knowing that has to be the pizza he ordered for dinner. He doesn’t want you to think you need to pay.

The sound of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, you’re nervous to see him again, but you can’t let it show. So you pour Molly and Alice out a glass of juice and get a few plates from the cupboard .

“Pizza’s here.” Dave announces, bringing the boxes back into the kitchen. His eyes find you and he wonders if it’s just his imagination that you are squirming.

“Come on, monkey,” you say to Molly, as you pop a plate in front of her, “Who’s hungry?!”

“Don’t let them eat too much.” Dave cautions. “Last time Molly stayed up half the night with a tummy ache.”

“Of course,” you say, looking at him for the first time since he came downstairs. He looks good, dressed in a nice suit with his hair styled back. “What time should I put them to bed?”

“Eight should be fine.” Dave hums. “Or whenever Tangled is over.” He smirks when Alice groans. “They don’t need showers or anything. Carol made them bathe when they got home from school.”

“Perfect.” You plate them both up a slice of pizza before reaching into the pantry and grabbing the ranch, knowing Alice would consume the whole bottle if she was allowed. “Are you going somewhere nice?”

“Some little Italian place Carol wants to try.” He can’t really remember the name, he just called and got a table. “Supposed to have really good lasagna.”

“Sounds lovely, Italian food is always a solid choice.”

“Call us if you have any issues.” Dave murmurs quietly, watching you. “We shouldn’t be out too late. But we are going to pay you until midnight.”

“Oh,” you say with a grateful smile, “I’m happy to get paid for just the time I'm here. The girls are always such a delight.”

He shakes his head. “Take the money.” He urges you. “You are watching them at the last minute for us. Doing us a favor.”

You look up at him, and smile, “Thank you, Mr. York.”

“No problem.” He looks back towards the girls with a fond smile.

You’re surprised at how relaxed you feel, pushing the weekend out of your head, right now he’s just the Dad of the girls you’re about to babysit. “Is there any laundry or anything I can do while you’re gone?”

“Not a thing.” He shakes his head. “Once the girls go down, watch whatever you want.”

“Thank you,” you say again, your eyes briefly dipping down to his lips.

Carol comes bustling onto the kitchen. “Oh, you are a lifesaver.” She exclaims, rushing over to give you a hug. “A date night is just what David and I need.”

“Trust me, it’s you doing me a favor!” You say, returning her hug, “If I have to eat ramen once more this week, I might scream. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She beams at the compliment and Dave hums in agreement. “You do look beautiful, honey.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“So, I’ll make sure these two angels are fast asleep when you’re home. And I’ll pack their lunch bags for school tomorrow. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do while you’re gone? I really don’t mind.”

“Make sure you…” Carol drops her voice, “take the rest of the pizza home with you.” She tells you dramatically, “otherwise they will want it for breakfast.”

“Sounds good,” you say with a giggle. “Have a great evening, I’ve got your numbers if needed.”

Dave arches a brow, silently reminding you to not text the other phone. But he reaches for his wife. “We need to leave if we are going to make our reservation.”

You take the obvious hint, and nod your head once. “Say goodnight to your parents, girls,” you tell them as they shovel pizza into their tiny mouths.

“BYE!” Both girls chorus out, making all the adults laugh. In a few more minutes, Dave and Carol are out the door and gone.

Taking a slice of pizza, you almost groan in delight at how good it tastes before grabbing yourself a drink. “So pizza and then Tangled, ladies?”

“Yeah!” Alice cries and Molly nods, her mouth full of pizza.

“Perfect.” You eat another slice of pizza as the girls finish up theirs and usher them onto the couch. Switching on disney plus and heading back into the kitchen to clear up the mess. You join them a few minutes later and snuggle up as you watch the movie.

By the time Mother Gothel trips over the hair and falls to her death, both girls are passed out on the couch next to you, snoring softly.

You switch the movie off before gently scooping Alice in your arms, carrying her up to bed first before doing the same with Molly. You switch on their night lights and leave both their doors slightly ajar, so you can hear if they wake up or need anything. before tiptoeing downstairs and sorting their lunch for the next day.

You watch a few episodes of Law and Order as you snuggle up on their couch, waiting for the sound of Dave’s car to pull up.

“Daaaaaavid.” Carol giggles in the passenger seat as he pulls into the driveway and puts the car into park. “I want you, baby.”

Dave chuckles quietly, aware that his wife might have had too much wine with dinner and maybe the espresso martini with dessert was putting her over the edge. “Yeah? We need to get into the house first.”

She giggles again and nods, leaning over and tapping his cheek. “I- I’m even- I was to be….daring” she confides with an exaggerated wink. “From behind?” For her, that is daring, and Dave arches his brow in surprise.

“My birthday isn’t for another three months.”

You heard Dave’s car pull up a few minutes ago, and start to get your things together. Figuring they’ll want to be alone as soon as possible, you pull your coat on, grab your purse and the leftover pizza and wait patiently for them to come in.

Carol is handsy, tipsy and giggly as Dave hauls her from the car towards the door. Groping his cock and loudly telling him that she wants to suck it, something she never does except for extremely special occasions. “Okay, let’s get you inside.” He grunts, knowing that she’s probably going to be too drunk for even the Thursday night sex he normally gets.

You overhear the conversation between the two of them and hate the pang of jealousy that lights up in your stomach. You’re ready to get paid and to just get out of there.

The door opens and Carol spills inside, Dave holding onto her so she doesn’t go sprawling and he’s surprised to see you waiting. “Dave, baby, f-fu- have sex with me?” She can’t even say ‘fuck’ when she’s plastered. Dave rolls his eyes and decides the best thing to do is to get his wife upstairs. “Stay right here.” He tells you, scooping Carol up with a small shriek from the woman as he carts her upstairs over his shoulder.

“Sure,” you say quietly, as you watch him carry the woman he loves up the stairs. Listening to her giggle and thrash about in his arms, whilst trying to keep the second burst of jealousy coursing through you at bay. You want to just leave, to pick up the money another time and get out of there but decide to just wait.

Once in the bedroom, Dave lays her down, and avoids the grabby hands as she flops back in the bed. “Dave.” She whines, a clear indicator that she’s hammered because she always calls him David.

“I’ll be back, honey. I have to pay the sitter.” He knows that she will be passed out by the time he gets back upstairs and will probably regret this in the morning. “I’ll be right back.”

You can hear his footsteps running down the hall, and you can imagine he’s desperate to get back upstairs and fuck his wife. So you get your keys out, ready to take the cash and leave straight after.

“I’m sorry.” Dave shakes his head as he comes down the stairs. “Maybe having a bottle at dinner wasn’t a good idea.” He stops in front of you and reaches for his wallet. “Were the girls good for you?”

“Don’t apologize,” you say, with a shrug, “Sounds like you’ve had a great night. Perfect as always. Had some fruit for dessert and both were sleeping soundly before the movie ended.”

Dave chuckles and opens his wallet to start pulling cash out. “She’ll regret it in the morning when she wakes up with a hangover.”

“I’m sure you’ll see she has a good night before that happens,” you laugh, “So, I won’t keep you any longer.”

He thinks he hears the edge of jealousy, but he’s sure he’s imagining things. “Ten bucks says she’s already snoring.” He wagers playfully.

“Maybe,” you say with a shrug, “Thanks for this. Was lovely to see the girls again.”

“Hey.” He catches your arm as you turn towards the door. “Saturday?”

“Yes,” you say, with a smile, “Looking forward to it.”

“Good.” He lets go of your arm and reaches around you to open the door. “Have a good night. Shoot me a text when you get home safely.” It was something that had been in place before, Dave wanting to make sure the babysitters who watch his children make it home safely. It’s a dangerous world and he knows what lingers in the shadows.

“Will do, goodnight Dave.” You briefly glance down at his lips one last time, before shuffling out the door and making your way to your car.

Once the door is closed, Dave locks it, arms the security system and heads back upstairs. As he predicted, Carol is passed out, sprawled over his side of the bed and he can’t help but roll his eyes. He’ll have to get her undressed and tucked in, then go jerk off in the bathroom thinking about last Saturday.

The second you’re home, you put the leftover pizza in the fridge and shed your dress. Pulling on a comfortable oversized tee and climbing into bed. After plugging your phone into charge, you send a quick text to Dave.

‘Home safe.’

Once he gets your text, Dave can relax. Laying down on Carol’s side of the bed since she refused to roll over, he wonders what you are doing, and if you are looking forward to Saturday like he is.

You wonder if he’ll text back, but you doubt it. So you snuggle into your blankets and get comfortable, thinking about what he has in store for you this weekend.

****

Saturday rolls around again and Dave is waiting for you in the apartment. Slightly irritated with himself since he has never been so eager to get back here to fuck before. He blames it on not getting sex on Thursday, but he knows that’s not the case.

You press the buzzer and wait to be let into the building, excited to find out just what he wants to do to you tonight and whether you’ll be tied up again.

He buzzes you in and is already holding the door to the apartment open, when you get out of the elevator.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” His cock twitches and he wants to pull you into the apartment but he doesn’t. Instead he stands back and lets you come in. “Go into the bedroom and strip.”

“Yes, sir.” You walk straight into the bedroom and place your purse on the dresser, before unzipping your dress and removing your underwear. Placing yourself on the edge of bed and waiting patiently for him to join you.

Dave walks in and groans when he sees you naked. Waiting for him and he smirks. “Hands and knees, press your face into the pillow.”

“Any restraints today?” You ask, before getting into the position. Burying your face into the pillow, and trying not to think about how on display you are for him right now.

“Nope.” Dave is wearing sweats and a t-shirt, quickly discarded. Reaching out, he caresses your ass before he pulls his hand back to spank you.

You moan in pleasure at his touch. Rough or not. You’ve been craving him since that night, and seeing him Thursday just made those cravings more intense.

“Color?” He demands, slapping your ass again.

“Green,” you reply, loving the stinging feeling that spreads across your skin.

He holds both of your ass cheeks, spreading them wide and staring at both of your holes. He groans and rocks your hips back when you try to lean forward, shy about being exposed.

“Daaaave,” you breathe into the sheets, face burning as he holds you open.

He grins, pressing his thumb to your puckered hole just to feel you try to clench around it. Instead of teasing you more, he decides to shock you, leaning down and spitting on your asshole a second before he replaces his finger with his tongue.

“Oh fuck,” you cry out, as his tongue starts to lap at you there. It’s like he can gauge what you’re about to do next, as he grabs onto your hips, stopping them from moving forward.

Dave is filthy, loving how you moan and squeak as he slides his tongue down to push inside your cunt and then back to the other hole. Carol would never let him do this, so he is going to do it to you. Even if you won’t let him fuck your ass.

You squeal as his tongue pushes into your puckered hole, feeling overwhelmed even though he’s barely touched you. But you can hear his delicious groans, the pleasured moans that are falling from his mouth and you know he’s loving it, and you find yourself getting off on his sounds on top of his teasing.

One hand slides underneath you and he starts to rub your clit while he uses his mouth on you. Pulling away briefly, he bites your right ass cheek. “Good girl,” he praises before he dives back in.

You start to relax as his fingers circle your clit, the feeling of his mouth back there becoming more enjoyable as you get used to it. “Feels nice,” you mumble into the pillow, as he doubles down in his efforts.

He chuckles against your skin and makes sure that you moan again at the next flick of his tongue.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warn, as you rock your hips back, chasing his fingers and his tongue.

He just hums, pushing his tongue deep and flicking it inside you as his fingers continue their assault on your cunt.

“Daaaaveeee,” you scream into the cushion as you start to cum, your entire body spasming from the intense pleasure.

Groaning, he keeps working you, wanting you to be limp with pleasure by the time he pulls his face away from your ass.

“Yellow,” you murmur, as he continues working your overstimulated clit after you come down from your high.

Pulling away, Dave uses the same hand that had rubbed your clit to caress your ass. “Too much?”

“Yes,” you say quietly, worried you’ve upset him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Dave shifts to lay down beside you and his hand continues to caress your spine. “You need a drink?”

“No, baby,” you say, the nickname slipping out before you have time to realize, “Just need a few minutes and you can do whatever you want to me.”

He hums and rolls onto his back. “You’re going to ride me.” He decides with a smirk. “Bounce on my cock.”

You hum in excitement, “Yes, sir. You wanna fill me up again?”

“Are you okay with that?” Just because he had last time doesn’t mean you will want him to tonight.

“Masturbated every night this week to the thought of you watching it drip out of my pussy before pushing it back in,” you say as you swing your leg over, so you’re straddling him.

“And you’re supposed to be innocent.” He snorts and shakes his head, already gripping your hip. “You like cum play?”

“I am,” you say with a smile, “I guess so, you’re the only person to have cum inside of me without a condom.”

Dave smirks and slaps your thigh. “So climb on my cock.” He grunts.

You lift your hips and watch as he lines himself up for you to sink down on, you steady yourself by holding onto one of his shoulders before taking him. Pleasure immediately pouring out of you as you fill yourself with him. “Fuck,” you moan, “Was so jealous on Thursday. Wanted you to bend me over the kitchen island and fuck me instead of her.”

“Didn’t fuck her.” His chuckle is mixed with a groan and he smirks. “You owe me ten bucks.”

“Oh, do I now?” you say as you start to grind your hips, “I feel a little guilty now. You didn’t get off and I went home and played with this pussy thinking about what you were planning for me.”

He twitches inside you and rocks his hips up. “Jerked off thinking about what I would do to you.”

“Yeah?” You say as you move a little quicker, “Tell me the filthiest thing you’d do to me.”

“Fuck your pretty little ass and then cum in your face.” Dave groans.

“Yeah? You want to be the first one to fuck my ass, Dave?”

He hisses, rocking his hips up again. He would love to, but he doubts he will see you again after this. He normally sees the girls no more than twice, occasionally three times. But he doesn’t want an emotional connection with anyone he fucks here. “Yes.”

“Maybe, I’ll let you.” You say, as he grabs on your hips, pushing you down harder on his cock.

One hand slides up to palm your tit as you start to bounce on his cock. “Let me know when you decide.”

“I know that you only see girls a few times,” you say, increasing the speed you bounce on his cock a little, “But if you want to do this again, I’ll let you. Let you fuck my ass as a final goodbye.”

He groans but he doesn’t answer. Cock twitching and he slaps your ass again. It’s a good trick to get him to choose you again. One that he’s already considering.

His refusal to answer makes you feel overwhelmed with embarrassment, so you pick up the pace. Riding his cock and clamping down around him as hard as you can, desperate to make him cum and feel him fill your needy pussy up as quickly as possible.

“Fuck.” Dave’s eyes are on your tits as you bounce harder. “So good. Fuck, you gonna cream all over my cock again?”

“Yes,” you gasp, “Fuck, Dave.” You chant his name over and over as he shreds up against that spot that only he has ever been able to find inside of you. “So close.”

“Good.” He grunts, bracing his feet on the mattress so he can fuck up into you. “After you cum, you’re gonna clean my cock off with your tongue.”

“Oh, fuck. Yes please,” you plead, desperate to feel how his cock twitches on your tongue. You grind down on him a few more times before you’re thrown from that edge.

Your body shakes and you collapse against his chest as your hips stop moving. He doesn’t do anything, letting you ride it out until you are panting softly.

Once you’re a little more composed, you lift off him and silently position yourself between his legs. Before bending down and circling his weeping tip with your tongue.

“Fuck. Suck it.” Dave groans, grabbing your shoulder and sighing when you take him deeper. “But I want to cum in your cunt.”

You do as he demands, hollowing your cheeks around him and sucking his cock whilst gently squeezing his sack. Letting him rock his hips so he’s pushing past your tonsils and making you slightly gag at the intrusion, knowing that he fucking loves to hear you gag from taking him. His groans are filthy, every single one going straight to your pulsating clit and you’re not sure who’s enjoying this blow job more.

“Touch yourself.” Dave orders, wanting you to moan around him.

Your fingers snake down between your legs and you circle your clit, your moans wrapping around his throbbing length.

“Fuck yes.” Dave groans, watching your hand move between your thighs.

You resume your focus on working his cock, your fingers still circling your clit as you take him deeper in your throat. Slightly gagging as your nose nestles against his pubic hair, breathing deep through your nose as you hollow your cheeks and suck as hard as can.

Dave grunts out your name, closing his eyes and letting himself get closer to cumming with every pull of your jaw. “Fuck, get on my cock.” He orders.

You can’t resist hollowing your cheeks and sucking really hard one last time before you pull off him with a loud pop. You move to straddle him again, using his shoulders to steady yourself as you sink down onto him, “Fill me up, baby,” you say as sweetly as you can, grinding your hips as you do so.

Dave groans, taking over and instead of rolling you over and thrusting into you, he lifts his hips. Working his cock in and out of you frantically as you grind down on him. “Shit, shit, shit.” He hisses, fingers digging into your hips hard enough that he will leave bruises under your skin.

Two of your fingers start to circle your clit after gathering up some of the wetness that you’ve dripped over the base of his cock. Rubbing faster and faster, loving how he groans your name as your walls flutter around him and hug tight. “You feel so fucking good.”

Dave groans in agreement, cock pulsing and his hips stutter as he tries to keep working up into you. “Fuck.”

You pull your fingers away from your clit and work on riding him a little harder, focusing on his high and the gorgeous groans he’ll reward you with as he spills into you. “Please, baby.” You beg, “Fill me up, Dave, pleeeaaaaase.”

Shit, he’s never had someone beg him to fill them up like that. Not even when they were trying for Alice. He gasps your name again as he’s thrown over the edge. Rocking his hips up to bury himself inside you to fill you up like you begged.

“Fuck. You’re perfect,” you whine, as it expertly hits that spot inside of you. “You going to cum for me, baby?”

“Yes.” The word is spat out as he starts to cum, growling as his cock pulses inside you.

You bite down on your lip as his cum floods your pussy, each thrust makes you chant his name like sacred prayer.

He groans, pulling you forward to collapse against him. “Fuck.” He pants quietly.

“How was that?” You ask quietly, as your body sags against him.

"Good." He groans, his hand sliding up and down your back as he continues to twitch inside you.

You hum happily before leaning forward and placing a fleeting kiss on his shoulder. “What’s next?”

He had cum a lot quicker than he normally does. Another couple of hours before Carol would miss him, if she wasn't already asleep by the time he got home. "You want another round?" He asks, amused with how greedy you are.

“Yes sir,” you say with a nod of your head, a smile stretching across your face.

"Greedy." He huffs quietly. "How much will you charge me?"

“Nothing extra” you say, with a shrug, your face heating up as he reminds you that this is all transactional.

He tuts and shakes his head, wondering if you understand that you should charge him more. You might enjoy it, but this is supposed to be something where you are paid for sex.

“Tell me what you’re going to do to me,” you whisper quietly, changing the subject from money.

"From behind." He decides. "On your stomach."

You shuffle off him and lay flat on your stomach wondering what’s in store for you, knowing it’ll take a little while for him to harden again.

"No, not now." Dave shakes his head. "Turn onto your back and spread your legs."

“Oh,” you say, “Sorry.” Before turning around and doing as he commanded.

"It's going to take me a while to get it up again." He flashes you a sardonic grin. "Getting old." His hand slides up your thigh and he hums when he sees the first beads of his cum starting to push out of your cunt. "So I'm going to push my cum back inside you while we wait."

You hate the way your body immediately reacts to his hands on you, even just sliding them up your thighs he has you keening and wanting to beg for more. His tongue pokes out of lips, and you have to bite down on your own, so you don’t beg him to kiss you. “Touch me,” you plead softly instead.

"I'm going to touch you." His fingers slide through the slick of his cum and he gathers it on his fingers to push back inside you.

His fingers are like magic, pushing deep into you and teasing nirvana inside of you. You watch the concentration on his face, as he touches your pussy, and as he pushes his spend back where you need it.

“Can I—,” you start to ask, before stopping yourself, wondering if he’d be mad at you making a request, when it’s him paying you. But you can’t help yourself, “Can I taste us?” You ask shyly, “From your fingers?”

He grins, pushing his fingers deep to make sure they are coated in cum before he pulls them free and offers them to you. Smearing the wetness around your lips.

Your hands come up and hold on gently onto his wrist, and after he’s finished spreading your mixed release across your lips, you open your mouth and close your lips around his fingers. Sucking them gently, whilst swirling your tongue around his thick digits. Moaning at the delicious taste of you both swirled together.

"Taste good?" He asks, soft cock twitching because of the fluttering of your tongue against his fingers.

“So good, baby,” you mewl, swirling your tongue around his fingers one more time.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and slides them back down to your cunt to tease and push more of his cum back inside you.

“Why don’t you have a taste?” You ask, as he pushes his fingers inside your cunt.

"Maybe later." Dave watches you as he curls his fingers up.

He pulls a loud gasp of his name from you with minimal effort, he fingers curling up expertly inside of you. “What if I beg?” you ask between moans, “Should I beg you to lick my clit? Knock $100 off the bill?”

He chuckles and keeps his fingers buried inside you. "You are bad with money." He teases, leaning in and nipping your collar bone.

“Is your tongue not worth $100, Dave?” You tease, before yelping as his teeth dig into you.

"You should be charging me to suck my cum out of your cunt."

“Yeah? Maybe I will. What is it that I'm getting tonight again? $500? Minus the $10 for that bet you roped me in on Thursday?”

"$700." He chuckles again.

“$701.” You say with a giggle, “I’m gonna charge you $1 to eat my little pussy.”

"Really bad with money." Dave jokes, curling his fingers up inside you again as he shifts between your thighs.

“I can demand more if you really want me to,” you laugh.

"Good." He nips the inside of your thigh. He knows you have to make money, you have bills you need to pay. He's not going to take advantage of you. "What do you want?" He asks, flicking his tongue over your clit.

“More,” is the only thing you can bring yourself to say, it already feels incredible, he laps at your clit so perfectly. Making you writhe and moan beneath him with ease. “Keep your fingers buried inside me,” you plead, before losing yourself in him. The only thing you can concentrate on is the way his tongue feels on your pussy, and how good he looks between your thighs.

You're bossy, but he's not too concerned about that. He likes that you are telling him what you want. That you are demanding pleasure from him. Demanding that he lick his cum from. your folds. He hums and flicks his tongue again while obeying your orders.

“You look so fucking good,” you praise him, “You look fucking gorgeous while you’re eating my pussy.” Your fingers tangle in his hair and you give him a little tug, loving the way he snarls back at you. “Larissa told me that you only fuck girls twice,” you say breathlessly, “But I meant what I said… If you want to do this -ohfuckbaby- if you want to do this one more time; you can fuck my ass. I’ll never let anyone else do it ever. You wanna pay to fuck my ass, baby?”

Dave hisses into your cunt, the idea already making him harden and twitch at the idea. He wanted to. He wants to be the only one to fuck your ass. He groans and curls his finger up as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

It makes you giggle when he hisses, your words clearly getting to him and you know he wants it. “Fuck,” you moan, as he brings you closer to the that edge, “Make me cum, Dave.”

He growls again, loving how you tug on his hair and he sucks on your clit like it is the last thing he will ever do. Curling his fingers up again as he does.

Your thighs start to shake, and before you have time to grasp it’s happening, they’re clamping down around his head as he pulls on earth shattering orgasm from you. Your hips rocking up against his face, throughout your high as you chase more and more from him. It’s messy, it’s loud and it’s fucking filthy.

He doesn't pull away, doubling down on the pressure as he licks and sucks. Pumping his fingers deeper and harder inside your spasming walls as he draws every sound out of you that he possibly can until you push him away.

“Fuck,” you gasp, looking up at his face that’s glistening with your cum. He looks as wrecked as you feel, he snarls at you a few times as you pull at your hardened nipples. His cock is rock hard again, resting heavily against his stomach and the tip is an angry red that’s begging for release.

“No safe words. No traffic light system,” you say with jagged breaths, “Everything is on the table, I want you to fucking destroy me, Dave. Right now.”

It's like the restraints have been cut free. Bonds have fallen away and the only reason he's not flipping you over and shoving his cock in your virgin asshole is because you will need to be worked open to take him. His hands are bruising, harsh as he flips you over and his hand leaves a welt on your ass as he lines up with your dripping cunt. Snapping his hips forward to bury his length inside you within seconds of your last word coming out of your mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” you choke out, as he takes what he needs from you. “Use me. However you need.” His hands are rough, but you crave more and more. You crave him. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, can’t believe you’re touching me… fucking me.”

He swears he's never been this frantic. This rough. Unhinged as he pushes his hips forward again and again as he nearly fucks you into the bed from the force of his thrusts.

“Good boy,” you grit, as he fucks you so forcefully that your legs start to buckle. “So fucking good. God. You’re so fucking perfect. Always working so hard for your family… working so hard for everyone.”

Snarling, Dave grabs the back of your neck, squeezing it harshly as he rams his cock as deep as he can. "Fuck."

You’re pretty sure your legs are about to give way beneath you, so you grab onto the headboard. “Fucking perfect,” you choke back at him, your abused pussy grips around his length as he plows into that delicious spot inside of you. “Fucking love this cock.”

He doesn't know how you are talking. Every punishing swing of his hips forces the air out of your lungs. Fucking the very air from your body as he pumps his cock into you.

You gasp as the next thrust turns your legs into jell-o, your arms no longer holding you up as you crumble into the mattress. You try to push yourself back up but it’s no use, but that doesn’t stop him, he continues his relentless pace.

Another few thrusts and Dave is pulling back, flipping you onto your back and shoving your legs up onto his shoulders as he drives back into you. Folding you over and pushing into you with hard, fast thrusts as he fucks himself down into your exposed cunt.

“Dave,” you scream as his thrusts rip the air from your lungs, he looks fucking wrecked as he destroys you. Every snap of his hips is designed to be punishing as you sink further into his mattress. You can see in his face how much he needs this, how badly he’s been craving this kind of release and you love that you’re the one to give it to him.

He doesn't know why he does it, maybe it's because he can. Or that under normal circumstances, he would never, but his hand comes out and he slaps your cheek. Not hard enough to really hurt you, just to surprise you.

You gasp. Shock apparent on your face, as his hand makes contact with your cheek. “Again,” you say quietly, as the fleeting sting makes your pussy clamp down like a vice around him.

Groaning, Dave doesn't let up his brutal pace but the sting of his hand on your cheek is a bit sharper.

“Fuck.” You grit out, as your cheek burns. “You want to mark me up? Slap me? Bite me? Fucking do it.” The words leave your mouth so easily, that it shocks you, but the urge to give this man everything is overwhelming. The need to please him is the only thing in the world that matters to you right now. “My body is yours.”

Your body will wear his teeth marks. He sucks and bites everywhere he can reach. Wanting to make sure that you feel him for days.

You hiss in pleasure as his teeth sink into your soft skin, before he picks up his pace again. Your fingers snake down to your needy clit and you start to rub circles into it, loving the way his cock harshly pounds into you.

"You better cum." He grunts, "better cum." He hisses it through his teeth as he bites down on another inch of your flesh.

“Yes, sir,” you breathe out, as you rub your little bundle of nerves a little faster. Feeling that fire set alight inside of you, it doesn’t take long until your walls are fluttering around him. Your pussy greedily sucking onto his cock as he continues his pace, “I’m gonna cum,” you manage to choke out before you’re convulsing in pleasure. Clamping down so hard that you’re pretty sure your pretty little cunt is choking his thick fat cock.

Still, he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even change his pace when your walls start to strangle his cock. It requires more force, more pressure but he just keeps hammering away.

You flood his cock as you cum, gushing all over his length and dripping down his balls as you squeeze hard around him. All you know is white hot pleasure as he thrusts relentlessly throughout and as you come down from your orgasm. He grits something out from behind his teeth but you’re too deliriously blissed out to make out what he said.

He doesn’t want to fill you this time. Wants to paint your skin with his cum and watch it dry on your flesh.

You feel his hips begin to stutter, and notice his breath gets shakier. But he’s still refusing to let up on his pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, only just drowned out by your moans.

The muscles in his arms bunch, straining from the effort to keep himself over you. Grunt and wiping away his sweat as he works towards the best fucking orgasm of his life.

“Cum,” you say softly, a plea not a demand, needing him to feel the kind of release that’ll free him of years of holding himself back.

He hisses, eyes nearly black as he holds your gaze. pumping into you once, twice more before he is pulling free of your body and quickly stroking himself. Grunting as he starts to spurt his cum all over your skin.

You both stare into each other's eyes as he coats your skin. He’s doing exactly what you had said, he’s marking you. Temporarily covering you with something that confirms even if it’s just for a little while that your body is his.

"Shit." Dave groans, milking his cock for the last drops of his cum as your body heaves and trembles on the bed beneath him.

“Dave,” you say, barely above a whisper, “That was what you needed.” You lift a hand up to gently move the hair from his face, and let it linger for a few seconds before pulling it away. Exhaustion evident in your bones.

He frowns slightly as your body practically melts into the bed. You are exhausted obviously and Dave can't have you driving home. Your eyes are barely fluttering as you fight to keep them open. "You are going to sleep here." He decides, even though it will be the first time he's ever had someone stay in the apartment.

“I’ll be okay,” you say, hearing the unease in his voice, “It’s not a far drive.” You can feel your body starting to drift towards sleep, despite what you’re saying.

"No, you aren't." He murmurs, watching you fall asleep as he sits there. Huffing in amusement as he shakes his head.

It doesn’t take long until you’re flat out, dreaming peacefully as your achy bones get a much needed rest. In sleep, your arms wrap around his pillow and you bring it closer to your chest.

He climbs out of the bed and moves towards the bathroom to clean up. You have fallen asleep with his cum on your body. After he redresses, he pulls out his wallet and pulls out another $700 to lay on the dresser. You are out cold and he pulls up the comforter over your nude body. "Sleep well."

For the first time in a long time, you fall asleep and stay asleep the entire night. Snuggled up comfortably in a bed that isn’t yours, blissfully unaware of the front door opening and closing as he slips out and makes his way home.

****

"Hon, I'm going to run and grab some coffee." Dave kisses Carol's still sleeping form and smirks when she grunts and snuggles into her pillow even more. "'kay." she mumbles and immediately drifts off to sleep again, completely unaware of anything.

He's not going to get coffee. Or, he is, but that's not all he's doing. He wants to check on you this morning. Make sure you are okay since he couldn't exactly check in with you when you were asleep.

You’re still fast asleep as he re-enters the apartment, your body snuggled up to the pillow that smells like him as he comes into the room. Clutching two large cups of coffee.

He can't help but laugh when he finds you still asleep. Impressed with how well you seem to sleep in a bed that isn't yours. The faith you have in the arrangement is surprising. He sets the coffee down on the bedside table next to your money and starts to gather up the wash rags. He'll strip the bed himself after you wake up.

The inviting smell of coffee makes you stir, and slowly you open your eyes. The first thing you notice is how sore you are, your poor pussy aching after the delicious battering it took, the second is the sound of someone shuffling around in the bathroom. With a wince, you push yourself up and get the coffee, taking a large sip before setting it back down on the table before calling out his name.

Coming back into the room, Dave smirks when he sees you, disheveled and sleepy eyed. "Apparently I fucked you into a coma." He teases, balling up the towels and throwing them down on the floor. "Sleep good?"

“I didn’t realize that sex could turn a person to jell-o,” you say with a giggle, “Yeah. Like a baby. Thank you for letting me stay, I think I would have fallen asleep before turning the key in the ignition.”

"You weren't going anywhere." Dave shakes his head. "It would have been too dangerous." Even if he hadn't been comfortable with the idea, your safety was priority over that. "You want to take a shower? All the cum is dried on your skin."

“Probably best I wash it off before going home,” you agree. “I won’t be long.” Pushing yourself up on your feet, you feel your joints groan in disapproval. But the discomfort is a surprisingly welcome reminder, a way to remember just how real the night before was.

"Take your time." Dave shoots you a grin. "You seem a little sore this morning."

“I wonder who’s fault that is,” you say as you stand completely bare in front of him.

"Oh I don't mind taking the blame for that." He boasts smugly. "Proud of that."

You giggle as you walk to the bathroom, “I bet you are, sir.”

When the shower turns on, Dave starts to strip the sheets, carrying them through the apartment to the washing machine. Deciding that he will start it after you get out of the shower before he leaves. The housekeeper would appreciate it.

The hot water feels incredible on your aching joints, so you stand there for a few minutes and just let it cover you before cleaning your skin. Running your fingers across the dried cum that’s coating your body before washing it off. It doesn’t take long for you to decide that you need to get out and eat, so you hurry yourself up and get dried and dressed as quickly as you can.

“Thank you,” you say as you enter the kitchen, where he’s waiting patiently, “The hot water helped.”

"No problem." Dave takes your towel and rag to toss into the machine with the sheets. "Take it easy this week."

“Yeah, I don’t think I have much choice.” You say quietly, with a little smirk.

"Don't worry about that." Dave dismisses your protest. "I dropped by to check on you. Bring you some coffee."

“Yeah, thank you, I drained the cup immediately,” you admit. “And thank you for last night.”

"Thank you." He hums as he turns back. "Oh shit, hang on." He pulls his wallet out again and pulls out another $100. "For eating your pussy." He teases as he holds it out to you.

“No,” you say with a giggle, “That was $1.”

"Don't have any change." He shrugs and smirks at you. "Guess it's your lucky day."

“Dave,” you say with a sigh, “I can’t. But thank you. $700 is more than enough. And I guess we should really get going.”

"Take the money." Dave grunts, serious this time. "You need it." He's not being benevolent. You need money and you had given him far more than he had expected last night.

After a few moments of him staring you down, you relent and take the money. “Thank you, I really enjoyed last night.”

"I enjoyed last night too." He smirks and tilts his head towards you.

“Good,” you say with a smile. You wait to see if he brings up seeing you again next week but he doesn’t, so you tuck the money into your purse and reach for your jacket. “I should go.”

"I'll walk you out." He offers, grabbing his coat and walking towards the door. "Big plans for today?"

“Going to swing by the grocery store and head home, you?”

"Gotta take the girls to some Disney brunch that Carol planned for today." Dave shrugs and smiles as he imagines how excited the girls will be. "Then I've got to do the yard work. You know? The honey-do list every man gets saddled with on the weekends."

“Honestly, disney brunch sounds incredible, I’m jealous,” you admit as you walk out with him, “Ah, yes. Happy wife, happy life.”

"That seems to be the motto, yeah." Dave shrugs. If he finds the conversation unusual to be having with someone he just fucked last night, he doesn't show it. When he reaches your car, he waits patiently as you unlock your door. "Drive safe, okay?" He offers with a smile.

“You too,” you offer back, lingering for a few moments before opening the door and stepping in. You can’t pretend you didn’t want him to suggest another meet up, even if it was just once more, but you had been told that he doesn’t like to see girls more than a few times so you shouldn’t be surprised.

Dave contemplates telling you to meet him here next Saturday, but he doesn't. Wanting more time to think about it as well as giving you a chance to change your mind. If you come here again, he's going to fuck your ass.

He watches you drive away and you give him a little wave as you begin your journey home. You go over the events of the night before and how good it felt to give him all the power. To let him hear exactly what he needed to hear.

****

He lasts until Wednesday. Leaving the office and pulling out the extra phone to send you a text. 'Saturday? Same time? If I can still fuck your ass.'

You had hoped that the offer was enough to make him change his mind and you grin ear to ear after receiving the text. After you had left on Sunday, you had driven to the grocery store and made an unscheduled visit to another store across the retail park.

You wanted to prepare yourself just in case he wanted to take you up on the offer, so out of sheer curiosity you entered the store. Speaking briefly to the shopgirl about your plans, she had suggested a small plug, one that you could wear around without noticing it after a while.

Silver with a cute heart shaped gem at the base. Feeling particularly excited, you decide to show him just how much you still want him to take you back there.

You type out ‘Was hoping to hear from you… I’ll be ready for you,’ before attaching a photo. One that shows your glistening pussy and the base of the plug sitting pretty in your puckered hole.

Dave grunts, cock twitching in his pants as he stares at the photo. Loving how you have started to prepare even if you didn't know he was going to text you again. '$1000 to fuck that pretty little asshole of yours'

‘Perfect, can’t wait. See you Saturday.’

Excitement starts to bubble up in your stomach and you can only hope that the next few days pass quickly.

The week passes incredibly slowly for Dave. The sex on Thursday just as boring as it normally is but he thinks about how he had fucked you last week as he fucked her. It had made it somewhat better than normal. Although when Saturday night comes around, he is leaving the house, rushing to the apartment and eager to find out if you were ready to take his cock.

You arrive at seven on the dot. A tube of lube sits in your purse, despite being sure he already has some you want to make sure. You had done your research and wanted to make sure that you’re as comfortable as possible.

“Good evening,” you say as he opens the door.

"Hey." Dave smirks as you shift in the doorway and he opens it wider for you to come inside. "Are you nervous?"

“A little,” you admit honestly, “But I’m more excited. I like giving you what you want, and I know how much you want this.”

He chuckles and closes the door behind you. "Are you wearing that plug?" He asks, lifting a brow.

“Yes,” you say with a grin, “It’s pretty isn’t it? Bought it after leaving here on Sunday. ”

"I figured you did." Dave hums. "I want to see it."

Without another word you make your way to the bedroom, undoing the buttons on your dress on the way and shedding it the second you’re in the room. Having foregone wearing any underwear tonight, you turn around to face him.

He walks slowly behind you, watching and humming in approval at how eager you are. "Bend over baby, show me that plug."

It’s the first time he’s used an endearment on you, and it makes your breath hitch and your pussy clench. “Yes, sir,” you smile sweetly, before doing as you're told.

He groans, eyes fixed on the little bejeweled end of the plug. "Does it feel good, baby? You like it inside your little asshole?"

You wonder if he can see your pussy clench as he calls you baby again, loving the way it makes you feel. “Feels so good, my pussy feels so much tighter with it in. Could barely push two of my fingers inside of me last night.”

"Hmmmm." He reaches down and rubs his cock through his pants. "So you had to touch yourself last night, huh? I jerked off thinking about you. Stretching that little hole around my cock."

“Yes, baby, played with my tight little pussy thinking about you. Dreaming about the things I want you to do to me. Mhmm, I want to see you stroke your cock. Watch you cum.”

He chuckles quietly, aware that you aren't going to be getting your way tonight. Your little asshole is going to take his load and he's going to watch it drip out.

The urge to kiss him is one that’s getting harder to ignore, but you push it away. “So are you going to fuck this tight little ass or not?” You say, feeling impatient.

"Do you want me to spank you?" He asks, lifting a brow.

“Yes,” you say, without hesitation. “Come get this pussy all wet.”

His eyes darken, excited that you are going to let him do whatever he wants to you. "Lay down."

“Okay, baby,” you say, excitement evident in your voice. You figure this is the last time you see him, so you’re determined to make it a good night.

"On your stomach." He orders, starting to strip down himself.

Without a word you flip onto your stomach, grateful that it’ll take away the urge to capture his lips with yours.

"Ass up." He orders. "Show me that little plug again."

Obeying his command you shake your hips a little, and wait for him to come over.

He chuckles, admiring the way your ass shakes. "Such an eager little slut."

“Just for you,” you say looking over your shoulder, “You bring it out in me.”

That comment makes him hiss in pleasure. Happy that he could make you craven for his cock. He's naked now, his cock hard and jutting out as he wraps his fist around it. "Good girl."

“I want you to feel how tight my pussy is with the plug before you fuck my ass,” you tell him, “Come get that cock nice and wet.”

"Jesus Christ." His hand caresses your ass before he slaps it once, twice, three times and groans when he feels how hot it is.

“You know you’ve ruined all other men for me,” you say with a giggle, “Will spend the rest of my life knowing that no cock will live up to yours.”

He doubts that, but his cock twitches at your praise. "Gonna ruin you even more."

“Please,” you beg, “Make me yours. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

He groans and doesn't hesitate to notch his cock at your wet cunt to push inside you. Moaning your name at how tight you feel with the plug still nestled inside your ass.

He feels like heaven, you hiss at the stretch of him but you still want more, so you clench down around him, willing him to make you scream.

Dave grunts, reaching down and tugging on the end of the plug and pushing it deeper inside you while he starts to rock his hips. “Fuck.”

“Oh, fuck, baby,” you almost yell, it stings a little but you love it. “Oh my god, Dave.”

“Feel so good baby.” He groans, rubbing your ass and slapping the other cheek. “So tight.”

“Keep calling me baby,” you beg, as you rock your hips back to meet his thrust. “Please.”

“You like that?” He’s surprised but he will keep calling you that if you want. “Huh, baby? You like me playing with your plug?”

“Yes,” you moan, “I think I could cum from you calling me baby alone. You going to make me cum and then fuck my ass? Claim what’s already yours.”

“Have I let you down yet?” He grunts, enjoying the way that you squeeze him.

“No, baby,” you giggle, rocking your hips back hard. Needing to cum quickly, as you’re desperate for him to overwhelm you. Ready to feel him every time you move again for the next few days. “So, make me cum, Dave.”

Dave huffs, amused by your sassy attitude and your commands. But he listens to you. One hand toys with your plug while the other rubs your clit. His hips rocking quickly as he fucks you.

You moan his name as his hand expertly works your clit, rubbing the little bundle of nerves so perfectly that he has you worked up in no time. He increases the speed as you start to clamp down on his cock, flooding his length with your cum while he rocks in and out of you. “Harder, baby,” you beg, before he throws you over that edge.

He chuckles, leaning down and biting your shoulder as he slaps your clit lightly.

“You’re fucking amazing,” you choke out as you come down, and fall forward off his cock “So fucking amazing.”

Dave hums and twists the plug, pulling it out of your grasping hole with a small pop. “You ready for me here, baby?” He asks.

“I’m ready for you,” you say nodding your head, “Wreck me again, Dave.”

“I’m going to go slow.” He shuffles off the bed to grab the lube from the nightstand.

“Okay,” you say, as you watch him get the lube and start to generously coat his length.

He brings the tube over to the bed with him and taps your hip. “On your back, I’m going to put a pillow under your ass.”

Turning around slowly, you look up at him and smile, lifting your hips so he can position a pillow beneath them. “You’re so fucking sexy,” you whisper as you look up at his face.

“You’re biased because I’m about to shove my cock in your ass.” He jokes.

“No,” you say softly, “You’re gorgeous… you fucking me is just a bonus.”

His fingers make sure that the lube is smeared around your hole and he can't help but press them into you. Feeling the resistance until he breeches you and groans at how tight your walls immediately grip his digits.

The noise you make is filthy, and it makes him chuckle. “Fuck,” you whimper, loving the small taste of what’s about to come.

He doesn't immediately pull his fingers out, pushing them deeper and scissoring them to open you up more and work the lube deeper. It will help you take him.

His brow furrows in concentration and he works you open, a smirk splashed across his face as you call his name.

When he slips a third finger inside you, he knows that you are ready and pulls his fingers free. "Just a little bit more lube."

“Okay, baby,” you say breathlessly, ready for whatever he’s going to give to you.

Dave squirts some more lube onto his fingers and coats the ring of your hole before he grips your hip. "Ready?"

“I’m ready.”

He takes his time lining up. Savoring the moment as he watches his cock press against the tight little hole he is about to claim.

“Take what’s only yours,” you plead quietly.

That is what makes him start to push his hips forward. The pressure of your puckered skin exquisite against the head until it yields. Giving way as he starts to breach you.

You whimper as he pushes inside on you, your fingers gripping the sheets and your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. It immediately stings, but you refuse to let it show, wanting him to claim you in a way no else has and no one else will.

Once the head is completely in, he stops. Caressing your ass as he waits for you to get used to him. He doesn't want you to rip, to just endure him taking you like this. He wants you to enjoy it.

“Are you okay?” You ask, once he’s stopped.

"I'm good, baby." He promises. "Just letting you get used to it. I know it has to feel strange."

“It does, but I like it,” you say, before reaching up and stroking his chest. “You feel so good.”

"You want to take a little more?" He asks, smirking slightly.

You nod and smile, letting your hand fall back down to the sheets, ready to grip them once he starts to move again.

You take another two inches of his cock. Keeping his hips rocking slowly, trying to be as gentle as he can even though you are tighter than a glove around him.

The whimpers that slip through your lips are loud, but you can’t help yourself. The stretch is overwhelming, but you focus only on the pleasure in his face as he fills you.

"Good girl." He groans, "you're doing so good, baby." He pulls his hips back as he rocks just a bit deeper into you.

“More,” you gasp out, ready for him to fill you to the hilt.

You enjoy the pain. Biting his lip, Dave snaps his hips forward and buries the rest of his length into your virgin ass.

You yelp as he fills you, a sharp pain rips through you but he’s immediately soothing you. Praising you for taking him so well, and telling you how good you feel around his cock.

"So good, baby." He coos, leaning down and biting your shoulder. "It'll pass. It'll feel good. I promise." He groans, twitching inside you. "Do you feel how badly I want you? How I want this? You're the only one to give it to me."

“You’re the only one, I’ll ever give it to,” you gasp out, as you start to adjust to the heft of him. The throbbing lessening as you start to relax around him.

He groans, twitching again at your words. He loves that. Loves that you are promising to never let anyone else have this. Even if you did not mean it.

“Fuck me,” you beg quietly, needing to give him release, needing to hear him groan your name in pleasure, “I can take it.”

"Not just yet." He shakes his head. "You wouldn't be able to take it right now, baby. We need to ease you into this."

“I want to make you feel good.”

"I do feel good." Dave groans, biting your shoulder again.

You moan as he sinks his teeth into you, before reaching down and rubbing your clit, needing something more.

"Such a greedy little thing." He grunts, watching you rub your clit. Your walls tremble around him and he rocks his hips deeper to grind into you more.

“You do this to me,” you moan, as you chase your pleasure. Feeling yourself clench around his cock and whimpering at the sensation.

"I do?" He grunts, starting to pull back slowly. Letting you feel every inch of him moving inside you.

“You do,” you say, as he starts to overwhelm you in the best possible way. “I’m ready, Dave, I can take it.”

He doesn't comment, he just grabs your hips and pulls your ass up slightly as he starts to push back into you.

You continue working your clit, as he slowly starts fucking into you. You can see from his face that he’s not going to last long once he finds his pace, so you start circling your bud a little faster, trying to concentrate on the pleasure rather than the pain.

"You're so goddamn tight." He grunts, biting his lip. "So goddamn tight. Like a vice around my cock."

“Yeah? Tell me how good I feel, Dave.”

"I'm going to destroy you." He vows with a hiss, growling at how good you feel.

“Then do it,” you challenge.

He chuckles and pulls his hips back so he can surge back into you.

Your breath hitches in preparation for what he’s about to do, your fingers gripping the sheets ever harder, “Fuck me, Dave.”

"Sure thing, baby." He groans, digging his fingers in your hips and starts moving. Groaning when your tight walls squeeze him.

It hurts, you can’t pretend it doesn’t, but the look of pleasure on his face is the only thing you care about. “Fuck,” you hiss, as he builds up a delicious pace. Fucking your little hole like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

"Shit." He groans, easing up on how hard he thrusts slightly. The pinch of your brow when he bottoms out bothers him and he wants to hear you moan rather than just taking him.

“Keep going,” you plead, noticing how he’s decreased his speed. “N-need you to fill me up.”

"I'm going to." He promises. "But I want you to cum, baby." He groans. "I need it. I need to feel it." As much as he loves being in control and being able to do what he wants, he loves a woman being free enough to cum for him. To have her pleasure.

You nod your head and start to rub your clit again, circling your bundle of nerves and focusing on his face. Unable to tear your eyes away from his as he works himself in and out of your tightest hole.

Only when your breath starts to change does he speed up. Once your legs start to tighten around his hips every time he drives into you, he knows you are enjoying yourself. "You love it don't you, baby?" He demands. "Feeling my cock in your ass, pulsing and ready to fill you up."

“Yes,” you cry out as you still clamp down around him, “You feel so fucking good.”

He grunts, rocking his hips faster. "Keep rubbing your pretty clit." He groans. "Want to feel you squeeze me tight."

“I am,” you say with a raised eyebrow, knowing he wants you to speed it up.

Your fingers work your clit even faster, chasing that peak as you continue to squeeze and clamp down around him. “I’m gonna cum,” you warn, feeling yourself approaching that edge.

"Good." He grunts, watching you rub your clit, watching his cock pierce deep into your body. Watching your face scrunch up in pleasure.

You chant his name as you near your high, feeling yourself get closer and closer. And then almost screaming his name as you start to cum, clamping down so hard around him that it hurts.

Snarling, Dave can't help but fuck into you faster, pushing you harder as you cum around absolutely nothing and he watches your cunt leak out and down to where his cock is pistoning in and out of your other hole.

Words get lodged in your throat as he fucks your through your high, his groans get louder and the movement on his hips a little sloppier. You love how his cock throbs inside of you, as he grinds his hips into yours.

It doesn't take much longer. Not now that you've cum. Pace faltering and desperate groans accompanying the last few thrusts until he is stilling inside you. Pressed deep and wishing he could get deeper as he starts to flood your passage with hot spurts of his seed. Pumping it into you with every small thrust of his hips.

With every thrust he fills you, cumming deep inside of you and telling you how good you feel and how well you did for him. The praise makes you keen beneath him, whilst looking up and watching his face contorted in pleasure, continuing to thrust gently until he’s finished cumming.

Panting, Dave presses his forehead against yours. Savoring the last moments of closeness before he needs to pull out of you. His eyes slip closed and he hums slightly as he tries to catch his breath.

It’s hard to ignore the urge as his lips are almost brushing against yours, just millimeters away, so you don’t. You bring your hand up and lightly press it to his jaw and you press your lips to his. Moving them gently against his and almost swearing you could feel him kissing you back, until you’re being pushed away, back into the pillow and noticing how quickly his face has changed from pure bliss to anger.

Instantly his grip turns hard, pushing away from you like he's been stabbed in the back. "What the fuck are you doing?" He hisses, not easing out of you like he had planned but ripping free of your body as he glares at you.

You whimper as a sharp pain jolts through you as he pulls out, “I’m sorry, Dave, I di—, I’m sorry.” You stutter before whimpering from the pain.

"You're sorry?" He demands, sneering at you. "You're sorry?" He grabs your arms and pulls you up to shake you. "You're not my fucking wife." He roars. "I don't kiss whores like you!" He hates himself for kissing you back, for softening towards you and his reaction is purely based on that.

You look away from him, tears welling up in your eyes and you push him away. Getting up off the bed and rushing over to where your dress is. Putting it on as quickly as you can and going out to where your purse is in the living room, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing pain between your legs. You close up the last few buttons on your dress and slip on your shoes, wanting to get away as quickly as possible.

Sliding into his boxers, Dave doesn't care about the need to clean up, the tears in your eyes. Still furious that you broke the unspoken but obvious rule that he had. He stalks over to his pants and pulls out his wallet. "Get the fuck out." He demands, thrusting the agreed upon money towards you.

“Fuck you,” you sob as you take a step towards the door, “I’d rather starve than take another cent from you.”

Dave throws the bills at you, anger twisting his features. "Don't fucking come back."

You let the money fall down around you, and refuse to pick it up. Leaving it all behind as you slam the door, and rush towards the elevator.

Chest heaving, Dave glares at the door as he listens to the echo of your footsteps fade. A muffled sob sounding and he reaches up and wipes his lips, angry that he kissed you back. Angry that he wanted to kiss you again. That was the most fucked up thing of all.

****

A few days pass and you start to feel a little better. A local cafe had offered you the job you had applied for and you were due to start the following Monday, so things were looking up.

You still refused to think about that night and pushed it all away the best that you could, keeping your mind busy by finishing up some college work that you had been slightly neglecting.

By the time Wednesday comes, Dave feels guilty. He shouldn't have reacted like that and worse, you didn't take the money. He sighs and pulls out the burner phone to send you a text. 'You need to come pick up the money. You earned it'

You read the text over and over, considering ignoring it and just moving on but you’re fully aware of your current financial situation. That money would be great to keep you going until you get your first paycheck, so with a sigh you text back and wait for his response.

‘Where should I meet you? And when?’

'After work today. The apartment.’ He knows there is a bit of irony in that statement but it's the easiest place for you to meet him.

‘See you around 5:30.’ You text back before returning to your studying, not wanting to dwell on seeing him again.

The plan being to get there, pick up the money and immediately leave. Leaving no room for awkward conversation.

You shower and get dressed just before having to leave and make your way to the apartment, groaning at the traffic and the way it’s forcing you to deal with the nervousness that’s almost all consuming.

Dave arrives at the apartment and decides that he will just give you the money and let you leave. He won't talk to you. There's no reason since he won't be seeing you again and he doubts you will accept an apology from him for what he said. He sighs and checks his watch, wondering if you will just leave him waiting and not show up.

Due to traffic you arrive a little late, but refuse to apologize. Instead you knock the apartment door loudly and wait for his answer, deciding that you don’t need to go inside.

When the knock sounds, Dave walks over to the door and opens it. Hating how his heart clenches at the unhappy glare that is on your face.

“Hi,” you say meekly, wanting him to just hand you the money so you can get out of there and never see him again.

"I'm sorry." Dave blurts out immediately, breaking his own rule about not speaking to you the second you greet him. The envelope with the money is in his hand and he extends it to you. "I know it doesn't mean anything, but I am." The least he could do is this before you leave.

You nod a few times, unable to make eye contact with him before taking the envelope in his hands. “Thank you, Mr. York.”

"It's all there." He promises, dropping his hand and shoving it in his pocket. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asks softly. Deciding to break his self imposed rule again and make sure he hadn't hurt you before you leave.

“A little,” you admit, not wanting to lie to him. “You ripped yourself out of me.” You look up at him for the first time, and can see how sorry he actually looks as you do.

"I'm sorry again." He murmurs, taking half a step towards you before he stops himself. You don't want him touching you. "I shouldn't have hurt you."

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” you say, as you feel tears spring up to your eyes. “I should go. But thank you for letting me come and get this.”

"You deserve it." Dave insists, swallowing and frowning slightly as he watches you tuck the money into your purse. "You don't want to count it?"

“No, I’m sure it’s all there,” you say with a slight laugh, “Thanks again.”

"Thank you." He realizes you want to leave and have nothing to do with him, so he nods. Giving you a small smile, he sighs. "Goodbye."

Even after he says goodbye, your feet don’t move. Instead you stand there and stare at him, hating the way your traitorous heart falters at the thought of not seeing him again.

He frowns slightly, his hand on the door not trying to close it. "Do you…. want a drink?" He asks after another moment of staring at you.

“A drink would be good,” you say, knowing that you should leave but not wanting to go.

"Come inside." He offers, letting go of the door and letting it swing wide. "Unless you want to have it in the hall."

You step in and walk past him, taking a seat on the couch and waiting for him to bring you a drink.

Dave moves to the kitchen and pours you a glass of whiskey. He isn't quite sure what you drink but decided that just a neat drink would help.

“Thanks,” you say as he comes back in and passes you the glass. Taking a small sip of the amber liquid and placing it on the table in front of you.

It's a message but he's not quite sure what it means when you ignore the rest of the drink. He sits down in the chair and takes a sip of his own drink. "You aren't still sore, are you?" He asks after a moment.

“A little,” you say with a shrug, “It was a lot… and yeah, I made you mad, so you wanted to get out of me quickly. Didn’t help. But it’s better than it was.”

"I'm sorry." He repeats, hating that he had hurt you to the point where you are still sore. "I shouldn't have- I should have made sure that I pulled out slowly."

“It’s fine, I get that you were mad.” Picking up the glass on the table you take another sip, before shrugging again. “Nothing a few more epsom baths won’t fix.”

Dave frowns and shakes his head. "I will give you some money for whatever you need to....soothe the pain."

“I don’t need more of your money, Dave,” you say, a little frustrated that that seems to be the only way he deals with things. “It’s a few days old, sometimes things can take a little longer to start to feel better.”

"It's my fault." He argues. "The least I can do is make sure you don't have to pay for something you wouldn't normally."

You scoff loudly, “Stop. I know how you see me. But you’re wrong, I'm not just a ‘whore’, who’ll do whatever for a few bucks. I don’t need nor do I want your money, Dave.”

Dave's brow raises and he stares at you for a few moments. "So you aren't about to lose your apartment?" He asks, knowing the answer even as he asks the question.

“Fuck you,” you say, with a shake of your head. Regretting your decision to come in.

"I accept." Dave leans forward and lets his gaze bore into yours.

Your body immediately betrays you, and you feel yourself getting wetter under his glare. You should run, slam the door in his face but you can’t. Instead you slowly inch towards him, waiting for him to take the lead and make you forget everything but him.

"I hate that I still want you." Dave admits, sliding to the edge of his seat. "I only fuck the women in this apartment a few times to keep from having this." He grunts. "A connection. But I want you."

You can’t hide the shock on your face as he opens up to you, but you know he knows that you feel it too. “Looks like we’re both in the same boat. I want you too, Dave.”

He sighs, inching closer to you. "So what do you want?" He asks. "Baby."

“You’re only calling me that because you know what it does to me.” You say with the first genuine smile in days, “I want you. Nothing else. Just you.”

"Move in here." Dave offers, his own smile starting to peek through the serious facade. The idea seems crazy and impulsive, but it’s actually one that makes sense.

“What?” You say in complete disbelief, “I can’t afford rent at my shitty apartment… you think I can afford to live here?”

"It wouldn't cost you a penny." He tilts his head. "I already have the apartment."

“So you’d let me live here for free?”

"Why not?" He asks, shrugging slightly. "I've already come to the conclusion there won't be another woman coming here every Saturday."

Lifting off the sofa you place a leg over his and slowly straddle him, “So, you’ll be my landlord? That I pay in different ways?”

That makes him smirk as he leans back in the chair. "If that's how you want to look at it." His hands land on your thighs and he slowly slides his palms up.

You hum happily, “Okay, I'll move in. Means I can be naked and waiting for you every time you come to see me.”

“Is that what you want to do?” He asks, holding on to your hips. “Be naked and waiting for me to fuck you?”

“Yeah,” you say softly, “Whenever you need it.”

“Even if it’s more than once a week?”

“Fuck yes, whenever you need it.”

His cock twitches at your answer and he smirks. “I like your answer, baby.”

“Good,” you say with a smile, a slight roll of your hips. “This went better than I was expecting.”

“What were you expecting?” He asks, groaning slightly.

“To tell you you’re an asshole and storm off with your money,” you say with another roll of your hips.

“You still have my money.” He points out, his own hips rocking up. “Instead of storming off, why don’t you slap me and call me an asshole.” He suggests. “Then fuck me.”

“Is that what you want, baby?” you smirk, “Maybe I’ll punish you. Get you right to the edge and then stop…”

“Don’t you dare.” He growls, not liking that idea at all.

“I don’t think you deserve to cum,” you say as you start to unbuckle his belt. “I think you should just make this little pussy cum and that’s it.”

He rolls his eyes but he doesn’t stop you from unzipping his pants. If this is what you want to punish him, then he will let you do it. Once.

“I’m not wearing any panties,” you reveal as you pull on his pants, he lifts his hips and helps push them down his legs.

“So you wanted me to fuck you when you came over?” He asks, lifting a brow.

“Nope,” you say, putting emphasis behind the ‘P’, “just didn’t feel like wearing any panties today,” you lie.

“Hmmmm.” Dave grabs your hips to stop you when you straddle him again. “Maybe we shouldn’t fuck today.” He suggests. “Since you’re sore.”

“You just want to put your mouth on me then?” You challenge back.

“Who says I would do that?” He asks, smirking at you.

“Me.”

Dave rolls his eyes again and shakes his head. “You think you’re gonna boss me around?”

“Yes,” you say with a playful smile, “For today anyway.”

“You’re lucky I’m feeling guilty.” He huffs, sending you a small wink.

“Mhmm,” you hum back, “Show me how much you want me, Dave.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be fucking me?”

You roll your eyes at him before pulling on your dress, hitching it above your hips and waiting for him to line his cock up ready for you to sink down on it.

Dave chuckles as he slides his hand down and presses his thumb against your clit. “Thought you wanted to be in control, baby?” He coos. “Cum on my cock and then leave me hanging.”

“I’m going to,” you say with a pout, before sinking down on him. Wincing at the way it stings, and giving yourself a few moments to adjust to him. “Have you begging me for relief.”

Dave groans, frowning slightly and when you start to pull up, he holds your hips tight. “Just stay still.” He urges you, sliding a hand around to rub your clit. “Don’t hurt yourself, baby.”

“Oh, are you gonna make me cum around your fat cock?” You gasp, as he expertly plays your bundle of nerves.

“Thought you wanted to cum?” He asks, watching your eyes flutter and hisses when your fingers dig into his shoulders.

“I do, I just didn’t realize you were going to do all the work.”

“You want to do the work?” He asks, his finger hovering over your clit. “I can let you do that if it’s what you want.”

“Nope,” you say, as you wrap your hand around his and push it back down. “I’m going to keep this cock warm and you’re going to make me cum.”

He chuckles and starts to rub. “Good girl.”

The room quickly fills with the sound of your soft moans, his fingers expertly pulling pleasure from you. Your eyes drift down to his lips and your heart skips a beat as you realize they’re off limits to you, when all you want is to feel them pressed against your own.

He’s watching you. Of course he is. He sees your eyes flicker down to his lips and he has a dilemma. He has broken all his self imposed rules where you are concerned. What is one more? “Kiss me.”

“Dave,” you say softly, before studying his face to see if he really means it. After a few moments you lean forward and press a fleeting kiss on his lips, a little afraid to push your luck.

His other hand slides up your back to cradle your head. Keeping you in place while he kisses you.

Your hands gently hold onto each side of his jaw, letting him take the lead and you open your mouth and let his tongue battle yours. His mouth feels like home. He kisses you with the most delicious intensity, the kind that makes you see fireworks and makes you melt into his arms. The kind that makes your entire world stop.

He keeps rubbing your clit while he’s kissing you. Aware of how your hips start to roll and you whine into his mouth while his tongue flicks against yours. Making him feed you a moan of his own.

You don’t ever want him to stop, his mouth slots against yours so perfectly, it’s like it was made for you. You grind down on him, wanting more of him, wanting to feel his cock twitch against your walls that are hugging him so tightly.

Pulling his tongue back, he kisses you again and again. “You gonna cum for me?” He asks raspily. “Little pussy gonna flood my cock, baby?”

“Yes,” you moan, against his lips, not wanting to part from them. He knows exactly where to thrust to find that heavenly spot inside of you, and he positions him to notch against it whilst continuing to rub your clit, chuckling when he feels your walls flutter around him. “So so close.”

“That’s it.” He coos, kissing you again. “That’s it, baby.”

Reluctantly you pull your lips from his, not wanting to risk biting down as you’re thrown off that edge. You clamp down tightly around him, gushing over his throbbing cock and chant his name. Feeling nothing but pleasure as he continues grinding up against your very own paradise.

When you are trembling, in the midst of your orgasm, he stops rubbing your clit and just watches. Amazed by the sight of your body shaking in pleasure and enjoying the pulsing, fluttering pressure of your walls around him.

“Fuck,” you giggle, as you start to come back down and everything comes back into focus. He’s watching you, still grinding his hips but concentrating on you. “Like the view?”

“More than I should.” He admits, shooting you a grin, but his hands softly squeeze your hips. “Feel good?”

“I feel amazing.” You gently press your lips to his again. “Come on baby, fill me up.”

“Thought you didn’t want me to cum?” He reminds you, pressing his kiss to your lips harshly. “My punishment.”

“Changed my mind.”

He hums and starts to move a little more. Still keeping the pace slower than normal. He knows you are still sore.

You rock your hips to meet his, wanting to feel him come undone inside your tight little cunt. “Cum for me,” you whisper softly against his lips.

“Shit.” He hisses, closing his eyes and rucks his hips up in abandon as he falls apart underneath you.

“Good boy,” you praise breathlessly against his neck, loving how it feels as he empties inside of you.

He huffs, about to say something sarcastic but you steal his breath. Just groaning as he holds tight to you.

“I’d let you stay buried in me forever,” you say, words pressed to his skin, “Fit so perfectly.”

He hums, turning his head and leaning in to kiss your shoulder as he pants. Trying to catch his breath and his spent cock twitches when you clench around him in an aftershock.

“Do you need a drink, old man?” you giggle, as he pants beneath you.

“Shut up.” He grumbles.

You giggle again, loving the way he groans as you flutter around his softening cock as you do so. Slowly you pull off of him and watch him immediately sink back against the chair before padding across the floor and into the kitchen and producing two bottles of water from the fridge. He hasn’t moved when you get back, and you fake sigh as you hand him his water. “I can see the headlines now… ’Poor old man fucked into an almost coma by younger sexy woman’.”

He gives you a half hearted glare, no real heat in his gaze as he takes the bottle from you. "It's not Saturday." He reminds you with a huff. "Not used to Wednesday sex."

“Poor baby,” you say as you straddle him again, peppering kisses wherever you can on his flushed skin. “Going to have to work on that stamina aren’t we?”

Grunting he takes a sip of his water and halfheartedly glares at you. "Are you saying that I can't have a break?"

“Maybe,” you say with the loudest giggle, “Maybe I’ll just have you eat my pussy and then let you leave.”

"Let me leave my apartment?" He snorts and sets his drink down to wrap his arms around you again. "Are you going to be here when I come back?" He asks, wanting to know if you were serious about moving in.

“Yes.” You say and you gently brush the hair out of his face, “If you want me to be.”

“This apartment sits empty for the entire week.” He explains. “You should use it. Seriously.”

“What if you get sick of me?” You ask, with genuine concern. “I’d die if I had to move back in with my parents, baby.”

“How many times have I fucked you now?” He asks quietly, aware that you have hang ups for the idea. Hang ups that he created.

“Not that many,” you answer, deadly serious, “You’re sure that it’s me you want every weekend? Larissa was so clear that you don’t sleep with girls more than two times, occasionally three if they’re lucky.”

“And you’ve been on my cock four times now.” He smirks. “I-I want you to stay. I was wrong for what I said. How I acted.”

“Okay,” you say, pressing your forehead against his, “But no more paying me afterwards. Oh and I need to talk to you about my new job.”

“New job?” He asks, lifting a brow.

“Yes. I’m going to be doing the early morning shift at a cafe in town, which means being there at 4:30am by myself to get things ready. So on weeknights if you visit, we can’t be too strenuous.”

“I see.” Dave nods and strokes your back as he does. “Visits during the week will be rare.” He admits. “The girls are used to having me home unless I’m traveling.”

“That makes sense,” you say with a smile, “I just thought I'd warn you. I need to be up early.”

“I promise I won’t wear you out too badly.” He smirks and leans in to kiss you again.

“You should be getting home,” you say with a sigh, “And so should I. I need food.”

He pats your hip and when you slide off his lap, Dave fishes his pants up off the floor and digs his keys out. It's a separate set from his normal keys, ones that are for this apartment specifically. He takes off an extra key and holds it out to you. "You can start moving in whenever you want." He offers. "The housekeeper comes on Mondays and the code for the alarm system is 75332."

“Housekeeper?” You repeat with a raised eyebrow. “I have classes tomorrow but I can start Friday. Is there a washer & dryer on-site somewhere?”

He slides back into his pants and nods. "Through here." He shows you, walking through the kitchen into the area that was both a laundry room and a storage or pantry area. The sleek washer and dryer are normally only used once a week for the sheets, but he has a feeling that will change with you living here. "You can bring whatever you like, change whatever you want."

“They’re inside the apartment?” You say with an unbridled joy, “I might cum again.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. "You get off really easily then." He teases. "The entire apartment is equipped to be move-in ready, but I know that there has to be something you might need." He had furnished it in case he ever needed to use it as a safe spot to lay low, but he didn't actually live here.

“Sounds perfect,” you say as you wrap your arms around his neck, “And when’s the first payment due?”

He hums, smirking as he leans in to press his lips to yours. "Security deposit has already been paid." He teases before he turns serious. "I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything." He murmurs quietly. "If you ever wanted to leave, or...whatever, I don't hold you here."

“I know, baby,” you say before kissing him again, “Do you think you could get here a little earlier Saturday? So I can cook for you?”

He frowns slightly and then nods. "I am supposed to go out of town this weekend." He tells you. "I'll send my....team to go on without me and still tell Carol that I have to leave on Friday." Smirking slightly he shrugs. "Maybe I could help you move and spend the weekend here?"

“Are you sure?” You say, unable to hide the smile that’s spreading across your face.

"Unless you want me to stay home?"

“Shut up,” you say before pulling him in for a big kiss, “I can’t wait.”

Dave chuckles and shakes his head. "Then I'll see you on Friday."

You squeeze his hand before walking over to your purse and jacket, “Come on baby,” you can walk me out.

Dave follows you to the door and opens it, ready to leave as well. He had never meant to stay so long, but it had been worth it. "Drive home safe." He murmurs quietly as he closes the door behind the two of you and locks it. "The apartment is safe, the neighborhood is nice and quiet."

You say a soft goodbye, and make your way home. Deciding on takeout pizza and a quiet night before classes and packing tomorrow. The visit hadn’t gone to plan but still couldn’t have gone better. And the best news is it's only a few days until you’re going to be with him for the full weekend.

****

Dave frowns as his phone dings with a text and he pulls it out of his pocket. It's from you which is surprising since you are supposed to be working.

It's been three months since you have moved into the apartment and every chance he gets, he comes over to see you. Since you had no more worries about your living situation, you were flourishing in your classes and your job was going great. Every weekend, he would come to find you cooking or baking or generally dancing around the apartment, unless he comes in to find you naked and eager to have him fuck you. Either sight made him smile.

He opens the text and frowns even more as he reads it. From Baby: ‘Not feeling good. Sent home from work. Won't be able to see you this weekend. I'm sorry Dave.’

You sigh after punching out the text, devastated that you won’t get any time with him. Before taking a large sip of your water and snuggling up in your blankets, hoping you’ll feel better after a little sleep.

Dave lets himself into the apartment, his key fob disarming the security system before it starts to beep. He's happy you are using it, knowing that you feel safe here but you could never be too cautious. Closing the door behind him, he strides into the kitchen and sets down the bags that he had stopped to get before coming over.

Snuggled up in bed, sleep has you comfortably wrapped in its arms, you don’t hear him come in. Wearing the t-shirt he left here a few weeks ago and seemingly forgot about, you had let yourself be wrapped up in him the only way you could.

The soup is still hot, coming straight from the little restaurant down the road. Dave grabs it, the package of crackers and a bottle of Gatorade, but puts the rest of the stuff away before quietly coming down the hall to see how you are doing.

You’re asleep. Your arms around the pillow he uses when he’s here and he can’t help but grin at the sight, especially the snores that come with a head cold.

The bed lightly dipping is what rouses you, and you turn to see Dave sitting at the end of the bed. Clutching what you assume is soup, “Hi baby,” you croak, as he gently rubs your leg.

“How are you feeling?” He asks gently, scooting forward to reach up and touch his hand to the back of your forehead. A little warm, but nothing too concerning.

“Better than I was earlier,” you say, before reaching up and pulling his hand down to your cheek and holding it there. “I stole your t-shirt.”

“I see that.” He hums, smirking slightly. “Comfy?”

“Yes,” you say, “It’s mine now. I’m sorry I’m not well enough to take care of you.”

“Baby, don’t worry about that.” He frowns slightly and shakes his head. “I’m going to take care of you.” He pulls his hand away and opens the soup. “Your favorite.”

“You’re so sweet,” you say, before taking the soup. And sitting upright. “How’s your day?”

“It was okay.” He twists off the cap for the Gatorade to hold until you are ready to drink. “Boring, but then I got a text that my girl wasn’t feeling good, so I came over here.”

Your heart leaps at the way he calls you his girl, and you can’t hide it on your face. “I’d ask you to snuggle, but I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Eat your soup and I’ll snuggle you.” He’s not afraid of being sick. He’s got a pretty solid immune system, and he’s not going to deny you comfort when you’re not feeling good. He pats your leg and stands up, setting the Gatorade down so he can strip down to his boxers.

“Dinner and a show?” You say with a giggle, before having a spoonful of soup.

“Shut up.” He grunts at you, rolling his eyes even though he’s grinning. “Unless you want me in bed wearing my suit?”

“Take it off, baby,” you say with a wink.

He rolls his eyes at you again but he’s steadily removing his clothes and tossing his pants and jacket onto the chair in the corner. “You act like you’re feeling better.”

“Clearly you’ve got the magic touch, baby,” you say before another spoonful of soup. “Thank you for this.”

“Of course, baby.” He frowns slightly as he looks back at you. The lines have been blurred and he’s not exactly sure what he’s supposed to do since he still has a wife and daughters at home, but you are important to him.

“No one has ever bought me soup when I've been sick before,” you admit, “Usually I’d just do it myself. This is really nice.”

“You deserve to have soup brought to you,” he hums, peeling off his socks and then striding back over to the bed. “You have some medicine right? I picked up some NyQuil, but I wasn't sure what you had.”

“NyQuil is perfect, I didn’t stop at the pharmacy,” you admit. “Just wanted to get into my new favorite t-shirt and sleep.”

“I’ll go get it.” He bends down and kisses your forehead. “Be right back.”

“Thanks baby.” You finish up the soup and open the gatorade, grateful for something they replenish a little energy.

He grabs the medicine and brings it back to you. Happy to see you drinking something, he opens the bottle and pours you out a dose. “It’s the nighttime stuff so you can get some rest.”

“Sounds good,” you say before taking the medicine. “Snuggle me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course baby.” He rounds the bed and climbs in on the other side, moving towards the middle and opening his arms for you to lay in them. “Unless you want to spoon?”

“You wanna be the little spoon again?” You say with a raised eyebrow.

“Shut up, brat.” He huffs, rolling his eyes. “You wanna snuggle or not?”

“Yes please, baby.”

He wouldn’t deny you at all, of course. But he smirks when you curl into his chest. His arm wraps around your back and he rubs it gently. “Go to sleep, baby.”

His arms wrap tightly around you, and it doesn’t take long until you’re drifting off. The medication clouding your senses and you murmur into your soft pillow not fully aware of what’s being said, “Love you.”

Dave stays still as a board as you completely fall asleep. Feeling your body relax and your breathing softens. “I love you too, baby.” He breathes out eventually. He does love you. He didn’t mean to fall in love with you. You had been a surprise, a wrench in the well laid plans that he had to manage his needs. But he won’t deny it, not when he knows it’s real.

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #dave york smut #dave york imagine #dave york fanfiction

273 notes · View notes

stizzysupremacy · 16 days

Text

ahhh I have such a good idea for a secret reverse sugar baby modern AU. it's sprizzy in my head but I think you could substitute other ships with only minor changes to details.

So basically the premise is that Ed left and took with him half the income that was propping up Izzy's tight budget. now that Izzy has to cover rent and bills in full instead of just half, he is struggling financially. He really can’t afford to live, honestly. But he's a proud man so he tries to hide it. Tries to tough it out and make it work.

But Lucius (or whoever you fancy) notices and tries to help without making it obvious he is helping because Izzy probably won’t accept help, especially from Lucius, off all people.

Lucius, trying to be subtle, starts:

-timing his smoke breaks so he can run into Izzy and annoy Izzy into ‘stealing’ the cigarette right out of Lucius’s mouth. because Izzy won’t ask to bum one, and helping izzy hands avoid nicotine withdrawal is basically a public service. Lucius is a hero for that.

-“ugh, I told them no pickles! Here, eat this stupid sandwich, I don’t want it anymore, I loathe pickles!” (Lucius likes pickles just fine) or getting ‘just sooooo full’ from drinking elaborate iced coffees that he can’t possibly finish more than half of his lunch and he doesn’t want to waste food but he’s going out straight after work and won’t be able to bring it home to put in the fridge for tomorrow and really you may as well eat it, Izzy, or it’s just going to sit in the trash bin stinking up the whole place.

-asking Izzy to walk him to the tube station after work ‘for safety’ but it’s really so Lucius can swipe an extra ride for Izzy on his transit card. sometimes when it’s cold and miserable enough to make Izzy ache Lucius will opt for cab or rideshare instead as soon as they hit the street, insisting it will be cheaper to split the ride. always drops Izzy off first, conveniently forgetting to split the fare

-buying izzy a cozy cashmere scarf and claiming that it was Buy One Get One Free when Lucius was shopping for himself but he didn’t see any other colors/patterns he liked and this one just screamed Izzy Hands. (And maybe a knit cap that Lucius claims he stole from the lost and found because it coordinates with the scarf so well)

-begging Izzy to come over and ‘fix’ something ‘broken’ at his place, conveniently near dinner time, just so Izzy can spend a few hours somewhere where the heat and lights aren’t turned way down low to save on utilities. Somewhere warm and bright, where the WiFi service hasn’t been turned off because of all the past due bills.

-constantly starting bets that Izzy can win. This backfires when Izzy starts to feel bad about taking Lucius’ money because he thinks Lucius is a typical starving artist type. Not knowing that Lucius makes $$$$ on furry art commissions and just doesn’t tell anyone about it because his friends, much as he loves them, have zero moderation and would cajole Lucius into partying all his savings away.

And all the while he is being sneakily generous, Lucius is trying to figure out how to trick Izzy into letting Lucius buy him a new winter wardrobe, treat him to lunch every day, and buy back the motorcycle Izzy had to pawn to pay off some debts Ed left when he blew town.

#neither of them realizes how sugary their situation is getting. they sure aren’t fucking. they haven’t even been on a date.#someone write this cuz I never will #sprizzy #spriggyhands #lucius spriggs #izzy hands

92 notes · View notes

sehodreams · 4 months

Text

sex money feelings die - second visit

first visit ↬ second visit ↬ third visit

WC: 1.5k

TW and Tags (permanent for the story): rich client!Anton x stripper!reader, smut, fluff (?), a touch of angst for the moment, inexperienced reader, fingering, kissing, lots of silly conversations.

Summary: Working at a night club was difficult in many aspects, your sleep schedule was messed up for life, your feet were more used to high heels than sneakers and you had to lie about where you went to work those nights. Still, even with all those cons, you didn't hate your job, you had more than enough to pay your bills, feed your brother and save money for his college. However, what happens when your boss makes you do the one thing you asked to never do.

Mondays became the new Fridays.

Anton had completely stopped booking the VIP room for him and his friends and disappeared until Monday came, the girls were sad at first, missing his expensive champagne and pretty face, but since his friends didn’t stop coming and they also brought their own drinks to share they quickly got over it.

Shotaro was elated to have now two big incomes in the week instead of just one, and every time he saw you around, he patted your back as if he was congratulating you for making the right choice.

You don’t know how right was to accept his money, the first time you told yourself you deserved it as compensation for all the stress he caused you, but after the fourth time you had started to feel bad receiving the wad of cash when all you two did was talk and sometimes drink, and you didn’t even drink with him, you just made sure his glass was full while you talked about recipes you had tried days before, how clients had treated you during the week, or maybe some gossip you heard around.

And he always kept the conversation flowing so smoothly that, before you noticed, you had started to talk about things you wanted too, from the simplest dish you had tried in your infancy to the coat you had seen when you were window shopping at the mall.

‘’I can buy it for you’’ he answered when you described the long black coat you saw that weekend.

You denied, ‘’It’s okay Anton, it’s not that I can’t, but there are more important things I could buy with that money.’’

‘’Like what?’’ he seemed sincerely curious about what else you had to do with money instead of buying yourself something truly wanted.

Saying you could buy your brother more practice books was impossible, you hadn’t talk about that kind of personal aspects of your life. Also, you asked yourself, would he be able to understand you? You saw the gold earrings he had on each of his ear globes, drops shiny enough to know they weren’t fake like the ones you bought yourself in the little fairs you visited when you had time, and you didn’t dare to even guess the price, because you were sure they costed enough to pay at least four months of your rent.

‘’Like food or, I don’t know, pay my bills, I don’t feel good wasting too much money on myself.’’

‘’Why would it be a waste to buy yourself something you want? Of course, those things are important, but gifting yourself things you want too.’’

He wouldn’t understand you at all. You couldn’t tell him how a two thousand coat was not something you could gift yourself, you had a mouth to feed, a student to maintain, and when you were young you never appreciated how much your mother did for you, but now that you were on her shoes, you understood why she collapsed after so many years taking care of you two without thinking about her own health. You couldn’t even afford fruit when you were young, you would be happy if you had a fried egg in your lunch, and now you decided that eating two fruits a day was a better decision than buying some piece of cloth that your brother wouldn’t find useful at all.

‘’I shouldn’t, I have to think about the future, I don’t know what could happen tomorrow.’’ You saw his glass half empty and tried to fill it again to avoid his eyes on you.

Minutes passed and the uncomfortable silence that you had forgotten about after so many times together came again, making you shrug in your spot, wishing you hadn’t talked about that. He seemed to deeply think about something while slowly nodding and sipping his glass full again, and before you were about to change the subject to something one of the girls had said about him, he interrupted you.

‘’What I give to you is not enough? Should I give you more?’’

‘’Anton in first place I don’t know why you give me so much money, you could have any girl in this place, you don’t have to put up with me.’’

His hand found yours and, caressing the back of it to calm you, he sighed.

After so many nights talking until Sungchan called for you, he had learned many things about you, how you enjoyed sweets a lot, how you always had a praise for the people you worked with and how you never recognized how special you were.

‘’Can I ask you a favor?’’ You, tired of hearing that phrase, like always, stayed silent until the other person said what wanted from you. ‘’Could you treat yourself a little better? I don’t think you realize what you do, but you talk as if you didn’t deserve nice things, and I’m not here to lecture you or anything, but it’s painful to hear how you say things like waste, or put up, and I thought that, after all the times we were together, you would notice that, for me, you would never be someone I have to put up with, I’m here because I want to, and because I think your company is as valuable as what I pay for, to not say more.’’

The tenderness with what he said it made you blush and, grateful for the room to be so dark and your foundation so good, you let him hold your hand.

He chuckled when your smokey eyes met his, seeing you so shy with just a grasp of his hand after knowing how bold you could be was a charm he didn’t expect from you, and when he saw how your ears betrayed you, all red and obvious even with the dim light of the place, he found himself as lost as when you took off your robe and showed him your pretty set of lingerie.

The occasion never repeated, you two strictly talked and got to know each other, so he never received another of your shows again. Kind of sad, but he didn’t mind, seeing your soft face and hearing your voice was enough to keep him satisfied the whole night.

However, he thought about you a lot more the next days, sometimes he thought about calling your boss and asking for more of your time on random days, but he didn’t want to scare you away when you were getting so close. For him, you were just like one of those stray cats he had seen around his elite school when he was younger. His friends and he would sneak some food a couple of times, and they would instantly run away from them and hide if they weren’t careful enough, and even if with every encounter they would warm up and occasionally accept to be petted, just the action of one of the immature boys, like putting too much pressure with their hands or being too loud, would be enough to make them run away, and would have to start all over again.

Your eyes met his and, holding all his desire to give you a kiss over your nude lips, he focused his attention on going back to the conversation.

‘’So, what do you say, will you do me that favor?’’

You hummed with a smile, you were tired of favors, but this was the first time you didn’t mind that someone asked you for one. ‘’I’ll think about it.’’

Testing the waters, he pulled the hand he was holding and gave it a quick but delicate peck. ‘’Knowing that you will think about me later it’s enough for me.’’

Not believing his cheesy line you scoffed, ‘’I’ll think about what you said, not about you.’’

‘’Well, just so you know, I’m always thinking about you.’’

Your laugh brought him joy again, whipped with the sound of it, he always left feeling victorious if he made you laugh during the night.

He kissed your wrist this time, and you didn’t pull your hand away, so he felt he had advanced a big step with you after so many nights.

‘’Why don’t you come Fridays anymore? The girls miss you’’ you changed subjects, like you always did when Anton, or made you uncomfortable, or made you too comfortable.

‘’And you? Do you miss me?’’ he replied kissing your index finger.

‘’Sometimes, your champagne is better than your friend’s’’ you had no idea how it tasted, but it always smelled good, so you decided it wasn’t exactly a lie.

He was exhilarating, hearing how you wanted to see him more was something he had waited for so long. ‘’I’ll make sure to bring two bottles then.’’

You let him hold your hand until you were called, and that night Shotaro gave you a check. ‘’Too many bills’’ he said.

Anton had given you a raise.

first visit ↬ second visit ↬ third visit

#riize x reader #riize smut #anton x reader #anton smut #riize hard thoughts #riize hard hours #riize imagines #riize fluff

130 notes · View notes

thetaleoflevi · 11 months

Text

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Rediscovered

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pairing: Levi x f!reader

Content: Modern AU, SFW

Content Warnings: None, they’re just two people who love to spend time with each other.

Description: Levi rediscovers love and all the things that make it so special. He gets to know you, his new next door neighbor, and you help him see what causes lovers to do so much for one another.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: I’m sorry I made you wait so long, if you even stuck around this long lol. I was burnt out and I ran out of ideas to write. I couldn’t think of what to write for my series that I started then dumped, so I went on a break. This is what i’ve been working on for a little and it’s not the best if I’m being honest, but I did want to put something out for the first time in a while. Enjoy! :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Levi who thinks love is a waste of time and money. He thinks, what the hell is a month-iversary? And why is it even a thing? He would never spend more than three dollars on chocolates, and that’s a stretch already. What kind of person needs an enormous stuffed bear on their bed in addition to just regular pillows? Why does everything have to be so physical? Personal space is sacred.

That is until he experiences the strongest sugar rush he’s had in almost two years. It seemed like some vicious prank played on him by the universe.

You walked into the apartment next to Levi’s, carrying a box that was a little less than half your size. The moving van you rented was parked nearby so that you didn’t have to travel long distances to move your boxes. Levi noticed that despite you having an entire moving van, there wasn’t much loaded into it. Maybe another four boxes, but that’s all he could see. Maybe your stay was only temporary.

It took you some time to introduce yourself. Not because you were trying to be antisocial, but because you didn’t know if it was normal to knock on your neighbor’s door and introduce yourself, instead of doing the usual run-in quick introduction.

Levi was nice enough. He didn’t say much, mostly listened to your quick presentation. The handshake was what got him, though. His formal façade almost cracked when you extended your hand to him. He held it together for the sake of professionalism, but deep down he felt like a father meeting his daughter’s boyfriend for the first time.

“Well, don’t be a stranger,” you said, a lovely smile on your face as you turned and went back into your new home. It was such a corny thing to say, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed when you smiled at him like that. It would be a crime in some other universe.

It had been a while since Levi had a next-door neighbor. The apartment was vacant for a good six months before you. Now, he could hear life just a few feet away. You blasted music really late into the night, and in all honesty, it got on his nerves.

On one night when work tore down his thin wall of patience, he came home hoping to get some much needed rest. By the time he reached the stairs that led to your and his apartment, he could hear your music fighting the walls. He rung the doorbell, hoping the sound would get to your ears despite the loudness surrounding your home. He was fed up with everything and couldn’t handle another night of this. You must have heard the doorbell because your music paused a few seconds later.

You looked cozy when you opened the door. “Hi, Levi.” You smile that smile that continues to flatter him. “Is there something I can help you with?”

His mind is racking up a polite response. He just wants to be in bed already.

“Yes, actually. The walls are surprisingly thin on these apartments, and i’m sure you aren’t really playing your music too loud, but I was wondering if you could turn it down a bit.” He puts his hands in his pockets, suddenly feeling like an old man interrupting a high school party.

Your face drops and you look like you just disturbed a sleeping puppy.

“I’m sorry about that.” You sounded sincere— adorably so. “I’ll turn it off. I wasn’t aware of the thinness of the walls, but i’m so sorry you had to ask.”

Your kindness was refreshing. You weren’t like his last neighbor. Levi and him didn’t interact much, but when they did, it was a mutually awkward ‘hey’.

“Don’t worry about it.” Levi sighs. “Sorry i’m here wasting your time. It’s just been an especially… testing day for me, and I just want to get some rest.”

“Don’t apologize. I completely understand.” You open the door more so that not just half of your body is peeking out of the doorway.

Levi gets a look at your full outfit. You looked like a bear with your oversized wool hoodie and your baggy pajama pants and your dog slippers. Oh. You have dog slippers on.

“Well, I should be going now. I don’t want to stand in the way of whatever you were doing. Thanks for understanding.” Levi was trying so hard to get out of there. There was a poking in his chest that he had to look into.

“Do you like tea?” You asked. Levi seemed distracted to you, but you thought maybe it was the tiredness taking a toll on his ability to think.

“I do. Why do you ask?”

“Would you like to join me for a cup? It usually helps me relax when I come home after train wrecks of days.”

He didn’t need a reason to get closer to you, but he definitely was not going to turn you down. Especially when you’re giving him a regimen for the stress.

—

You both sat on lawn chairs, sipping on a steaming cup of tea. Levi knows only one person who knows their way around a cup of tea and that’s himself. That night, the number went up to two.

“I know it sounds bad when I don’t give you context about the people they are, but you just have to trust me on this one.” You talked Levi’s ear off about your reason for moving to a whole different state to get away from your parents.

“Whatever they did to you, it must have been terrible if you had to move so far,” Levi takes a sip of his tea. He had no bad judgement towards you. Even though he gets along with his mother and he’s never met his father, he’s human enough to understand that not all relationships with parents and their children are good.

“Yeah.” You stare straight ahead into the nightly activities going on in front of you. You didn’t mean to trauma dump on this man you haven’t known for long enough. It happened, though, and he didn’t run or tell you he was uncomfortable. He stayed and listened through and through.

“So, what was so awful about your day that you had to shut down my solo party?” You smiled. It let him know that you were just teasing when you laughed a little.

He rolled his eyes, the frustration returning to him in a short burst as he recalled his irritating day.

“The people I work with are annoying and lazy. They need constant delegations. I understand that I’m supposed to manage the team, but how will they grow if I always have to tell them what to do?”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. You sympathize for Levi. He seems like he really cares about his job, but also like he needs a vacation.

“I get that. Have you thought about working with another team?” You chuckle. “I swear that’s not me telling you to give up on the one you have, but at some point you have to put your own sanity first. Maybe a change in leadership would help them, and a change in teamwork would help you.”

There’s a moment of total silence, and you think what will follow is him telling you that you overstepped. The silence is broken by the sound of a quiet breath leaving his lips as a chuckle. You never noticed how little Levi smilesd until now. It’s actually a really warm sight, and his eyes crease at the corners, which makes your heart flutter.

“I don’t think that was too helpful.” You chuckle, setting your empty cup down on the floor.

“No, that was some really good advice. Thanks.”

You nod, glad to know that he wasn’t going to insult your thoughts.

The silence returns again, both of you just staring out into the abyss. It wasn’t awkward, even thought both of you had already finished your cups of tea and it was getting later. Stores were closing down for the day, their neon signs powering down to let the night grow.

“I should go home. It’s late,” Levi says, once again breaking the welcomed silence. He starts standing and offers you your cup back, empty. “I appreciate your time and the tea.”

“Ring my doorbell anytime, please. I’m happy to tell scary stories over a cup of tea.” You pick up your cup before standing.

“Well, goodnight,” Levi says, a shy smile on his face. His hands return to his pockets as he heads over to his house.

“Sleep well,” you respond, before shutting your door.

Levi laid awake for longer than he hoped he would. He could still feel that pokey feeling in his chest and it was no use looking it up like he set himself out to because he knew exactly what was it was. He mentally cursed himself for feeling this way about you so quickly. You were kind, and pretty, and you said sorry and meant it.

Levi rolled onto his side, a heavy sigh leaving him as he attempted to sleep.

—

It became a habit of yours to check the mirror thoroughly now before you left your apartment, a similar routine for Levi. He would smell the collar of his shirt before leaving. Your hello’s were almost synchronized every time you ran into each other, shy smiles decorating your faces. Your ability of not knowing when to stop talking greatly developed over time.

Sometimes your anticipation got the better of you. You would doll yourself up a little more than usual, only to be let down by his absence. It made you feel like an idiot, and you almost always went back in and dressed down.

Then, it finally happened.

Levi was coming home after another long day at work. You sat outside staring at the chaotic traffic down the street, a warm blanket on your lap.

“Hey, did something happen over there?” You ask, pointing at the line of red taillights.

“There was a car accident. Someone crashed into a fire hydrant and it’s currently a fountain that hasn’t been fixed. People are nosy so it’s taking a while to kill the traffic.” He climbs the last stair and stands next to you, his back against the windows of your apartment. You were watching the angry drivers as they tried to swerve into faster moving lanes.

“What are you doing here on a Friday night? No plans with friends or anyone?”

You shake your head. “Nope. My friends wanted to go to a club, but I don’t think I can handle the auditory overload tonight.”

He nods, acknowledging the truth in your statement. “What about dinner?”

“They didn’t mention anything about that. They usually go to whatever is open and nearby once they’re drunk off their asses at four in the morning.” Your hands ball up in your sweater’s pockets in an attempt to find warmth for your icy fingers.

“I’m asking you. Have you had dinner?” He directs his gaze towards you, meeting your eyes.

“No, I haven’t. I was just gonna heat up some leftovers.”

“Would you like to have dinner…” he hesitates for a second or two, “…with me?”

“Yes.” You think you answered too quickly, but your justification for it was not wanting to waste any more time. “I’ll be back out here in ten minutes. No more no less.” You stand and wrap your heavy blanket around you like a cape and turn your head to the right all regally as you head into the direction of your home.

Levi thought that was easy enough, but he wouldn’t get his hopes up. It wasn’t brought up as a date, so it’s just dinner.

Like you said, you were out in exactly ten minutes and you now donned something that matched Levi’s formal wear. You knew at some point you would get uncomfortable in the dress you chose, so you brought a backup outfit. A much comfier one.

“I stay true to my word, but I’m also very considerate. I won’t let you walk around looking like a penguin without looking like a tablecloth myself.”

You looked nothing like a tablecloth in Levi’s eyes. You were amazing, glowing in the midst of darkness. He had to look for the calm, stoic man inside him in order to stop himself from saying something stupid.

“I hope I didn’t make you feel obligated to dress up.”

The calm and stoic man was no help. He feared he made you self conscious when you started second guessing your outfit.

“Is it too much?” You looked for you jacket in the folded pile of clothes you held.

“No. You’re fine. I-It’s fine.” Thank the stars for the low amount of visibility, because Levi couldn’t contain the rouge spreading throughout his face. “I know a really nice place. It’s about a twenty minute drive, but it’s worth it.”

“Dealer’s choice. I’m up for anything with you.” That could easily be read differently. “I mean, anywhere is fine is… what I mean.”

What kind of malfunction was happening between both of you?

“After you,” Levi said, his hand aimed at the stairs.

You smile and lead, not having a clue where his car is.

—

When you got to the restaurant, you saw how luxurious it was. It was glowing brightly, and there were chandeliers that had both tiny and large crystals on them. You turned to Levi, a nervous look on your face. “Levi, we can’t eat dinner here.”

“Why not?” He asked.

“I can’t afford something this fancy.” It was kind of embarrassing to admit, but you figured he knew this already by the clothes you wore in contrast to his.

“You really think I’m such a trash person to make you pay?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t want to assume you would be paying for my food. That would make me a trash person.”

He shakes his head, turning his car off.

“Come on. We’re going.”

“But-“

“We’re going,” he repeats. “Plus, I think it’ll be amusing if you go in wearing that nice dress and then leave wearing those pajama pants.”

You chuckle at his insistence, finding it hard to keep the argument going when his reasoning was so strong.

—

Dinner was what you expected. Not totally awkward, but there were times when you had to look around at other people or things because you ran out of things to say. You felt especially nervous because you had to sit right across from Levi. He constantly watched you, wanting to know what you thought of the food, and how you felt about this time you were spending together.

“How was your meal?” Levi asks. You felt like his eyes were luring the answer out of you, the way they held contact with yours.

“It was so fuckin’ good.” You laugh. “I mean, it was really good. Thank you.”

“I believe you. Didn’t I tell you it was good?”

You nod, fiddling with the fork sitting on your empty plate.

“Let me know when you’re ready to go. I’m ready when you are.”

“I’m gonna go change. I’ll meet you in the car?”

He nods, standing when you do. You notice that he leaves a huge tip in the booklet holding the check before he heads out. It really makes you wonder what Levi does for a living to give him that privilege.

—

You knew you would be judged by everyone for what you were wearing. You received stares left and right, even some double takes as soon as you left the restroom. You had to hold it together, hold back the laughter when you saw a whole table simultaneously look at you.

Once you got out, Levi popped out from beside the door in time to watch your laughter explode.

“Everybody was watching you, huh?” A smirk creeps onto his face, like you both just pulled off the ultimate heist.

“Jeez, Levi! You can’t just pop out of a corner like that in the middle of the night.” Your heart pounds in your ears, your breath slowly making its way into your lungs again.

“Sorry. I wanted to make sure you got to the car safely.”

“Well, I guess I can’t be mad at you for that. Let’s go back. I’m exhausted.”

Your heart races at the thought of him staying back to make sure nobody hurt you. It’s like he cares about you. He doesn’t want you to die. That’s nice.

—

During the car ride, you introduced Levi to some of your music. He was much more into the calmer picks, deeming the random scream-o songs you have too aggressive. You told him that one day you want to go to a rave, and he said you were going to get trampled.

Once you got home, you both climbed the stairs that led you to your apartments. Levi didn’t want to end the night without giving you something to think about, but he wasn’t ready to admit that he liked you. A lot.

“Levi, Levi,” your smile grows. “Do you always take random girls out for dinner like that?”

“No,” he answered, simply.

“Okay, what I meant to ask is, do you always take random girls out for dinner at super high-end restaurants? Feel free to answer honestly,” you chuckle.

Again, “no.”

“Then what? Did you just see that I was starving and pitied me enough to buy me something to eat?” You’re pulling questions out of your ass to sway your mind from the idea you’re getting based on his responses.

“I don’t pity you, and no.”

“Then why did you buy me dinner?”

He can feel the blood pumping in his veins. His hands and feet feel staticky, like they’re numb.

“Did you not want me to buy you dinner?”

“You can’t answer a question with a question.” Your arms cross, impatience surfacing your mind.

“I just did, didn’t I?”

He was being annoying, in a rather attractive way. Levi could tell you just wanted an answer, but he didn’t want to tell you. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t stand the thought of there always being tension between you and him.

“I think you’re nice.”

It was cute, the way he was unable to look at your after what he said. It was such a simple sentence. Four words that had you feeling fuzzy.

“You think i’m nice?” You can’t say it seriously, an uncontrollable smile playing on your lips.

He can only nod, scared that he’ll elaborate on how nice you are if he says a word.

“Well, I think you’re weird and annoying.”

This had him wondering what he did wrong. What made him weird? He knows that not answering your question must have been annoying, but really, you had him stunned with that one.

“You’re also very nice, though. I’ve enjoyed our little encounters and your company tonight.”

Now that, that made him feel like he was bathing in the sun. Would he have preferred you not call him weird and annoying? No. It was so like you to say something like that.

He finds himself getting drawn in by you. You’ve bewitched him. It’s the only explanation for why he’s getting closer.

“I think you’re nice.” He takes another step.

“You said that. You must really believe it,” you reply, getting more nervous by the second.

“I do.” He takes one of your hands in his. You see him look down at it, a sly grin on his face.

“What?” You ask when he continues examining your hand.

“Your hand is so sweaty.”

You pull it back a little, not expecting him to hold it firmly.

“Why are you still holding it?”

“It only seems right that I hold your hand before anything else. Even if it’s sweaty. Am I making you nervous?”

You felt like screaming through the silence. Your heart was racing like it was going to beat out of your chest and your hands were shaking in his hold.

“I had a good time, too. I wouldn’t mind being your backup plan again, and taking you out for dinner is something I would like to do again in the future.”

“I want you to kiss me.”

The words sounded so wrong outside of your thoughts. You thought there would be a drumroll for them. Maybe you telling him that you think he’s beautiful, or even roughly telling him he’s attractive. But, no. You dove right in because you wanted to see what he would do with this information.

“You’re pretty straight forward, huh?”

“I’ve been waiting. Days, weeks, months, years.” You laugh, realizing how ridiculous you sound.

“We’ve only known each other a little over two months. How could you have waited years?”

“Did you not hear what I said? I want you to kiss me.” You look him in the eyes, trying to read the wonderful look on his face. “Kiss me or say goodnight.” It was an ultimatum for the end of the night.

“I don’t want to say goodnight,” he says, his voice quieter.

That gave him one other option, and he immediately went for it. It was a kiss that brought the stars in the sky down to your eyes. His hands rested on your waist, while yours went up to cup his face. You would be lying if you said you were going to sleep afterwards, because this is what you’ve been dreaming of. It’s happening, and you don’t need to dream about it anymore.

“Goodnight, Levi,” you mutter, a hazy smile on your face. You put your hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat to see if this kiss invoked the same feelings for him as it did for you.

“Not yet, please.” He pulled you in for another kiss, this one being longer. He had you running out of breath every time he brought you close. You loved seeing that sparkle in his eyes every time you pulled away.

“Goodnight, Levi,” you repeated, this time escaping his hold.

“Fine, goodnight.”

You waved as you headed into your apartment, Levi walking the couple feet it took to get to his apartment afterwards.

That night he went to sleep with you on his mind until his eyes shut for good.

Levi was starting to get it. He saw you and finally understood why things are so love-filled in relationships. Why you go the extra mile to please your partner, even if it’s something small like buying them chocolates. He finally got to experience the satisfying feeling that came with kissing you goodnight. It was a rush of emotions that laid dormant in him for a while, and the rediscovery of them was amazing, especially with you.

149 notes · View notes

honeyjars-sims · 2 months

Text

2.35 Wallowing

Cece: How’s therapy been going?

Chantal: Good, I think. We’re just getting started but I really like my therapist so far.

Johnny: Don’t bother with therapy, it’s a waste of time.

Cece: No, it’s not. Just because you’re wallowing in misery doesn’t mean everyone else has to.

Johnny: I’m not wallowing. And it’s true. If I never went to therapy I never would have asked Lexie out or started talking to my mom again. I’d be a lot happier.

Chantal: Therapy didn’t make your girlfriend gay or keep mom from making better choices. Sometimes bad things happen. If you were still going to therapy, maybe you’d start feeling better instead of rotting away on the couch.

Johnny: That’s easy for you to say. You haven’t been through what I have.

Chantal: Maybe I wasn’t physically abused, but I still grew up in the same bad environment where my needs weren’t met. You're not the only one with trauma, you know.

Johnny: Oh, you have trauma. Is that why you were sleeping with your boss?

Chantal: That really hurts. I know I could have made better decisions, but that’s why I’m in therapy. I want to work on my self-esteem.

Cece: Johnny, why would you even say that? Leave Chantal alone. At least she’s trying to do something with her life. You’ve been moping for weeks. Did you even go to your finals?

Johnny: No, but it doesn’t matter now.

Chantal: What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Can you even pass your classes if you don’t take the finals?

Johnny: No, I can’t. But I dropped out anyhow.

Cece: You dropped out of school?

Chantal: What were you thinking?

Johnny: Oh, come on. I just picked Drama as a major because it seemed fun. I don’t have any idea of what I want to do with my life. Going to college is just a big waste of my time.

Chantal: I guess if you don’t want to go to school, that’s your choice, but where are you going to live? You have to be a student to live in the apartments.

Johnny: Can’t you just pretend you live by yourself? They won’t know I’m here.

Cece: Um, and who’s going to pay for your part of the rent? Dad and Pops are helping you out because you’re supposed to be getting your degree. They’re not going to just give you rent money for nothing.

Chantal: Yeah, and I can’t afford this place by myself now that I lost my job.

Johnny: Fine. I guess I’ll ask Dad and Pops if I can stay there for a while.

Chantal: I’ll give you a couple of weeks to get your things together, but don’t take advantage.

Cece: Yeah, and our parents aren’t going to let you mooch off of them forever. At some point you’re going to have to act like an adult.

Johnny: Yeah, whatever.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

#johnny is being kind of an ass #hopefully he won't keep moping much longer #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4 story #simblr #sims storytelling #sims story #simlit #stksafeharbor #safeharborstory #sh:cecelia #sh:cecilia #sh:chantal #sh:johnny

40 notes · View notes

mio-actuallywrites · 6 months

Text

The World You Once Loved Pt 4!

4/12-ish?

PREVIOUS NEXT

1300+ words

What Sorta adventures will you go on now, Prefect?

A/N AT BOTTOM!!

not proofread, will most likely come back tomorrow morning and add some small parts/edits.

As soon as you entered the kitchen 10 pairs of eyes of familiar were on you as you soon almost got tackled to the floor.

“I’ll just… leave the house I guess…” Oboko mumbled as she grabbed her coat and left, but you could care less.

“Prefect!” Was all that you could hear before you interrupted them, curious why… or how they came.

“Hey guys, it’s nice to see you but… why or how did you come here?” Suddenly it was all silent.

“… WAKASAMA WOULD BE PROUD OF YOUR GROWTH!” Sebek suddenly yelled… probably to avoid the question.

“But seriously… how?”

“It was Ace.” Was all that Epel said before all eyes suddenly moved to him.

“Well… Uh… so…” Ace froze up before slowly continuing, “I sorta said Tokyo Japan… because.. I just wanted to see what happened?!”

“Are you telling me it took almost a goddamn year for Crowley to find me away home but it took 2 FUCKING MINUTES?!” After your sudden outburst you saw a moving bag on the counter… and something black and furry was coming out… wait was that GRIM?

“MWAHHH HENCHMAN I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!!” Grim suddenly launched himself at you as you felt him hug you close.

“Grim… “ you mumbled, suddenly feeling bad for your outburst, perhaps hugging Grim calmed you down, after not feeling or seeing him for a while and finally being able to was really comforting.

“So what are you guys gonna do now?”

“Can’t we join your house until we find a way back?” Grim replied.

“Uh first off all, I have 2 roommates, second of all therel is barely enough room for us 3. Third off all it was your guys fault you came here.” You finished, crossing your arms.

“But don’t you have a Ramshackle-like place here??” You heard someone ask, but you didn’t play any mind to it.

“I mean…” you responded thinking of an idea.

“HUMAN YOU MUST TELL US NOW!” Sebek quickly responded.

I mean, you might have had enough money to rent a small home, for the most a month. After all those hours being a barista you must have gained enough money, for plus the dorm you live in is paid for by the school, so your able to right?

“Uh… have you guys ever heard of Air bnbs?”

Let’s just say at around 3 AM, a group of teens? Young adults walked into a hotel, because you couldn’t book a air bnb for the next day, so here you were using (wasting) all YOUR money on them. Hmm maybe Crowley was smart bribing you maybe you could use those tricks and use them against certain someone’s.

Anyways after checking in to the hotel and minus 11,364.38 yen, you finally had got a rest for the night.

You might be questioning why did it take 3 hours

To find a hotel? Well, you had to drive 3 fucking hours to figure out where to stay, and you had to buy them food. So, while they ate all happily, (minus grim as he was forced into a bag while you all ate) you were over there moping about all of your savings being used on something like this.

Back to the hotel, you shared a room with Sebek while Ace and Deuce shared a room, and Epel and Jack shared one. Grim, he was also with you but somehow he gave you his spot on the bed, but forced Sebek on the couch. (What did you expect?)

After arriving to your hotel room you couldn’t bother to do anything else to sleep, you were already tired at this point so you basically fainted when you hit the bed. However, the thoughts still haunted your brain on how they came here.

Sebek, still most likely pissed for getting the couch himself, was fumbling with the TV remote, trying to figure out how to work it, and what it does.

Grim, who knows what he was doing, you couldn’t bother by how tired you were.

However next door, you could hear the murmur of Ace and Deuce, sharing stories from their exploration of Tokyo, and what they noticed on the way to your home. They promised you to tell you tomorrow, however you were nervous to hear what chaos they were up to. the laughter from the 2 close friends echoed faintly through the thin hotel walls, while Sebek was still trying to figure out how the TV works.

As you lay there, thoughts swirled in your mind questions about how or why they came. Now you couldn’t care about all that money you spent. You cared about how they came/why they did. While it took Crowley 8 months to figure it out.

The thoughts of your brain slowly died away as you let sleep take over you.

Just as quick as you fell asleep, you were suddenly awakened again, you grabbed the phone next to you which read the time of 9:32 AM.

You sighed as you looked over to see Sebek sleeping on the couch with Grim under the covers of the bed, curled up in a ball. (Which he would never admit to doing however.)

With a stretch and a yawn, you reluctantly got up and went to the bathroom, got changed and did whatever you did in the mornings.

After getting ready, you woke up Sebek and Grim, after they both got up, you went to Ace and Deuces room and knocked, after a few knocks and calling their names, Deuce opened the door, looking all ready, while you saw Ace in the background still getting ready.

“Let’s meet at my room at 10:45? Okay?” You asked, still having to get over to Epels and Jacks room.

“Yea that’s fine.” Deuce responded. You nodded and went off to find Epel and Jack.

However once you got to their door, you saw Jack open it.

“So we meet at your room at 10:45?” He said awaiting your response.

“Yea… but what… how did you know..?”

“I guess it’s just my wolf senses…” after hearing that response you sighed… perhaps sooner or later you will have to explain to him not saying that in public… due to a certain *thing* called furries.

After returning into your room and awaiting the others, you thought about what would happen today.

You were sure that today would be hectic, but you were kinda excited. To be able to spend the day with your old best friends?! And this time at your world?! You couldn’t ask anything better! Hopefully though, no chaos ensures. (However you were sure it would happen… due to the nature of your friends.)

So as you await for the others… you couldn’t help but think how the others back at Twisted Wonderland are handling

right now, if you were correct it was…. 20 hours here so 10 hours back at Twisted wonderland, would they notice the group went missing…?

“Hey Sebek what was the time when you guys came back at TWST?”

“8:15 AM!”

…..

“What do you mean you can’t find Ace or Deuce?!” A certain red head almost yelled… this was the ?? Time they snuck out or don’t come back to the dorm this WHOLE school year. (Keep in mind it was the first semester.)

“It is off with their heads when they come back! And they even bother to skip classes!?”

The red head looked back at the light gray octopus.

“Well maybe if you could make a deal with me I’d actually help more.”

“What do you say Riddle?”

A pair of twins followed behind them, talking amongst themselves also wondering what could of happened.

As the front Twokept talking? Arguing about the missing 2nd years, and figuring out what the hell happened to them.

Soon they entered the mirror room (forgot what it’s called lmao) and where right in front of the mirror, still trying to figure out what happened before they suddenly were in a different place.

A dark entity watches from behind… smirking in amusement

“I can’t believe my plan is finally working… after waiting so long… I’ll finally be able to….”

They kept mumbling to themselves, smiling happily as they spun around casting spells all over the place, with a huge smirk placed on their face.

Hey guys! I’m so sorry a month has went by with no update I think I hit writers block! Anyway happy thanksgiving!! I hope you all have had a nice week! Also feel free to send in requests just no NSWF!!

(I really should make my rules lmao)

Tag list:

@twistedcece @nothingfuninthislife

@help-whatdoimakemyusername

82 notes · View notes

l3viat8an · 1 year

Note

Poly mc: Imagine going to the human world with bros and a bunch of little kids and teens calls poly mc the most ugly person on the street and a fatso, all while laughing.

My friend was called that, and never in my life I wanted to punch a child. They held me back and said it wasn’t worth it.

Fuck them kids and your friend is a better person than me I would’ve helped punch a child- CW: fatphobia / body shaming-

Walking around the human world with your demons is always an…adventure for lack of a better word lol-

Asmo wants to drag you into every little Beauty boutique you pass, Satan wants to take you into every bookstore, Levi the arcade or little comic book shop, Beel every restaurant or café you pass- okay, okay you get the idea, they all want to drag you off and have fun!

But on the nicer days like this~ when the sun is hidden behind some clouds and it’s not too hot, it’s always nice to just go on little walks through the local park together!

It gives the demons a new look on the human world and let’s you show off your hot boyfriends! (Even if nobody’s really looking-)

and you get some much needed human world sunshine! What could be better?-

Until you passed a group of kids at the little play set, the one started pointing and laughing, you can’t hear what the kids are saying yet.

So you crack a joke about the kids being able to tell the boys are demons “Kids can always tell these thing, you know.”

Before laughing and continuing to walk, your group is still out of earshot of the kids but Levi grumbles about kids being dumb and Satan flips them off, Lucifer slaps his hand down, almost immediately, “Satan! Act right, those are children. They don’t know any better.”

Satan grumbles something under his breath.

But all in, all your groups keeps walking getting closer to the little playground and past the laughing kids, “Hey fatso! How much money are you paying to rent these stupid models?” “You know, nobody thinks any of them are actually dating a fat pig like you right?”

To say the demons were ready to punch some children is an understatement-

“Hey, kid c’mon over here fer a minute I just wanna talk.” If the children had any sense they wouldn’t go anywhere near Mammon with that ‘smile’ on his face, Satan isn’t nearly as worry about hiding his true intentions honestly, “I don’t want to talk, I want to punch a child.” Belphie just glares at the children “Tiny humans, really don’t have any manners anymore.”

Asmo looked as if he was in shock before marching up to the children, “Listen, here you brats, because I’m going to give you the lesson your parents never did; Only bitter nasty little humans, judge each other by their looks alone, and only bitter and miserable people decide that everyone else must be. Simply because someone doesn’t fall into your idea of a beauty standard doesn’t mean they’re automatically miserable, or that they’d have to buy love. I’d say you should be you ashamed of yourself but it would be a waste of time.”

Turning on his heel Asmo walks right back over to you, loops your arm through his and starts walking away.

“Wow…it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you get that upset.“ you say a bit impressed “Oh hon, I’m so sorry you had to hear that! But I hate children like that.” He presses a quick kiss to your cheek, and keeps walking.

You turn back to see if the others are following yet, and while you can’t hear what Lucifer or Beel said you can see the childrens faces drop and the two start backing away “What are they doing?…..” you’d almost feel bad, but really the kids started it “Probably just a few empty threats, don’t worry about it sweetie~! Now what should we do when they catch up~?”

The demons aren’t going to let a few nasty kids ruin your whole day after all!!

(Tho if you do want the kids to suffer a bit more Belphie can always give them nightmares- and I’m sure Satan or Lucifer have some ‘lovely’ curses-)

#roro writes #obey me!#obey me #obmswd #obey me x reader #obmswd x reader #om!#om! x reader #obey me x poly reader #obmswd x poly reader #om! x poly reader #obey me comfort #obey me x chubby reader #obey me x plus sized reader

382 notes · View notes

creamsickle-writes · 1 year

Text

Words Like Honey: Vinsmoke Sanji x F!Reader

Tags: nsfw, manipulative!Sanji (please don't overlook this tag), virgin!reader, oral sex, penetrative sex, creampies, and established relationship

“My darling dear!” Sanji sing-songed, “Our special dinner is ready!”

You perked up at your boyfriend’s words as he entered the hotel room the two of you were sharing for the night. Sanji had made it a big deal to rent a room for Valentine’s Day, something you insisted that he not do in order to save money (“but darling!” He protested, “No cost is too great to show my love for you!”).

So, he rented the room anyway, and it was nice, too: the bed was large and plush, the bathroom had a spacious tub (that seemed like it was made for two), and there was a mirror on the ceiling…?

Okay, you were starting to question just what kind of hotel this was.

But you don’t bother asking. Instead, you focus on the dinner he had packed from the ship in a cute little picnic basket.

“Cooked all your favorites, so don’t be shy, darling.” Sanji smiles warmly, sitting on the bed as he places the picnic basket before you. You notice he has a bottle of wine in his hand, and you raise a brow.

“What’s that?”

“Just the finest for a lovely night with a lovely girl.”

You giggle a bit at his compliment. He was always so sweet with you, but something about this setting, combined with the delicious-smelling food, made it all seem real to you. Like, this wasn’t just one of his flirtatious moments; he had genuinely cared for you.

With his sweet words dripping over you like honey, you decide to dig in.

Some time passes, and soon the meal is polished off, with no crumb wasted.

“Thank you again, Sanji.” You smile, “I really have no idea how to repay you…”

The corners of his lips turn upwards into a grin, and he leans in, his sweet scent hitting your nose, “I can think of a few ways…”

You gasp when he presses his lips to your neck, gently nibbling at the skin. His hands find your hips, his thumbs rubbing small circles into them. You two had never gone very far, a testament to Sanji’s gentlemanly nature, so you could tell that something about this encounter was different. With the glasses of wine, the nature of the hotel, and the way he was desperately sucking at your neck- you could tell he had something planned.

“Sanji,” you weakly start, “What are you doing?”

He pulls away for a moment, “Well, we’ve been together for some time now, and… I’ve been thinking, maybe, we should try going a bit farther tonight. To celebrate.”

He looks up at you with hopeful eyes, and your heart aches. Sanji was the sweetest man you knew, and he took great care of you. Some part of you felt terrible for withholding sex from him for so long. But you were a virgin, and, well, if you were honest: you were nervous about having sex.

“Mm, I-I don’t know…” you trail off, picking at the hem of your dress.

Sanji places a hand over your own, “Come on, you always say no… just this once, please say yes…”

You bite your lip when he’s back on your neck, pressing delicate kisses and gentle love bites on your skin. Your thighs clamp together because, god, his mouth feels good, but again, you weren’t sure if you were ready.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this- for you….” He moans needily, “Made you the perfect dinner, made sure we would have a place where we wouldn’t be interrupted, where you could really let go and relax…”

“Sanji-“

“Come on, darling.” He says, his voice desperate, “I can only wait so long…”

You swallow, looking at his sad puppy dog eyes. Your chest tightens; you loved him so much and didn’t want to make him sad. You bit your lip.

“Well… I guess we can go a little bit farther…”

Sanji’s smile makes you feel like the decision was worth it. After all, seeing him so happy filled your heart with joy.

“I promise I’ll make it feel so good for you.”

He kisses your neck once more before making his way to your shoulders, kissing the bare skin. As he does so, his fingers find their way to the zipper on the back of your dress, gently pulling it along the track until it reaches the bottom.

He shrugs the dress from your shoulders, exposing your bare chest to him for the first time. His eyes rake up your body, and he licks his lips, immediately reaching to grab your breast.

You gasp out for him, and he smiles softly, “Oh, they’re so beautiful…”

“Sanji…” you sigh, tilting your head back as you allow him to explore your body.

He leans forward and takes a nipple into his mouth. You moan quietly but quickly ghost a hand over your mouth to suppress the sounds. He felt so good, so amazing, as his tongue swirled around your hardening nub. Your other nipple was being treated with similar care, his fingers gently twisting and pulling.

It was absolutely delightful.

He pops off your nipple and soon switches, his mouth now encapsulating the other. His mouth is delicate and gentle with you, and you feel as though you’re floating on cloud nine.

When he pulls away, he looks up at you, his eyes full of want.

“Lay down.” He says it softly, and you obey, laying your head on the soft pillows that decorate the bed.

He slides the dress off your hips, leaving you in only your panties.

“You’re still clothed…” you trail off, and he looks down at himself, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Would me being naked make you feel more comfortable?”

You nod timidly, and he immediately gets to work, removing his suit jacket. Next comes his button down, which he is teasingly slow about removing, each button feeling like torture for you.

He then removes his slacks and, once those are off, his underwear too.

Your eyes widen as you look him over. He was bigger than you expected; maybe you should back out.

As if reading your mind, he shushes you, “It’s okay. We’ll stretch you out first, and I’ll be gentle with you…”

You bite your lip. You never agreed to go that far, but… as you were kissed on the lips, his tongue raking over your bottom lip, it started to become more appealing.

His hands find your thighs as he moans against your lips, your tongues dancing together. You two had kissed like this many times before, so you were at least familiar with this part. But, when his fingers brush over your clit, you jump at the foreign feeling. He chuckles a bit against your lips.

“You’re so sensitive…” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your nose, “And so wet too…”

You blush when he mentions it, fingers swiping over your slit repeatedly, causing wet sounds to fill the air.

“Hear that?” Sanji laughs, “We might not even need to stretch you out.”

With a curious finger, he prods at your hole before slipping in slowly. You had fingered yourself before, so it wasn’t an unknown feeling; it just felt different when he did it.

Sanji experimentally slips a single digit in and out, testing the waters. Your pussy seemed to suck him in easily, and you grew embarrassed that your body was taking him with little resistance.

“Let’s try another, okay?” He says soothingly, “Can you do that? For me?”

You nod slowly, looking into his eyes, “I-I think so…”

“Good girl.” He praises you and slides in a second finger, this time with some resistance.

You wince as he pushes in, his two digits feeling much thicker than yours. He notices your pain and kisses your cheeks, soothing you quietly.

When he curls his fingers upwards, your body jolts, the feeling of pleasure hitting you hard. He hits your g-spot dead on and begins to stroke it, steadily coaxing an orgasm from you.

“Hn, Sanji-!”

“That’s it, darling,” He coos, “Just let go…”

You cry out for him as he continues his calculated assault on that special spot inside you. The pads of his fingers are persistent, sweeping over that patch within you with tremendous pressure.

Your eyes roll back as the pressure builds within you; it’s too much, too overwhelming, but Sanji never lets up, pleasuring you despite how you squirm.

“Oh, you sound so messy.” He groans, “Want to eat you out- can I do that, darling?”

You don’t get to answer before adjusting, so he’s over your mound, swiping a wet tongue over his lips. He dives in, flicking his tongue over your clit rapidly. Your eyes flutter shut as you’re overwhelmed by this immense pleasure. Fuck, it felt so good. Why had you held back all this time?

Sanji’s fingers pick up their pace, rubbing your g-spot even faster as his mouth wraps around your clit. You sharply gasp as he begins sucking on it, driving you mad.

“Sanji, I-I think it’s coming-!” You moan, throwing your head back and thrusting your hips into his mouth. Sanji doesn’t stop; he simply looks up at you as he continues to work, his dark eyes staring into you.

When your orgasm hits, it’s unlike any orgasm you’d ever had before. It’s all-consuming, your extremities going numb as your core finally snaps. Drool comes from the corners of your lips as your head grows fuzzy, your brain in a daze.

You almost don’t register when Sanji slides his fingers out of you and lines himself up with your hole, his cock twitching over you.

“W-Wait-“You interject, “I still don’t think I’m ready for sex…”

Sanji doesn’t pull away, though. He just slides his cock head over your clit, causing shocks of pleasure to go through you.

“Darling…” He hums, “Don’t you think it’d be unfair if you got to cum and I didn’t?”

“Yeah, but-“

“Relax,” He says, smiling, “I’ll only put in the tip, okay?”

You chew at your lip, “What about a condom?”

“I’ll pull out, promise.”

Your eyes flickered back from his shaft to his face. His warm smile comforts you, and you decide, well, it’ll be okay… after all, it’s just the tip.

“Okay…” you say, and his smile grows even wider.

Sanji positions himself at your entrance and slowly slides in, putting in just the blunt head of his cock, as promised. You bite your lip as it stretches the opening of your hole; you can’t deny that it feels good, and it feels even better when Sanji begins to shallowly rock his hips.

You reach for his back, digging your nails in to ground yourself as he thrusts in and out of you. He presses soft kisses along your cheeks and neck.

But as time goes on, you feel like you’re being stretched out even more. But you don’t say anything, enjoying how Sanji moved within you. Your toes curl as, without your knowledge, Sanji was steadily working more of himself into you, his cock now halfway inside. You only realize once it’s too late, his balls pressed flush against your ass.

“S-Sanji…” you whimper, “It’s all the way in- “

“I’m sorry, my love,” He says, “You just felt so good, I couldn’t help myself. Forgive me, please?”

Curse your boyfriend for being so charming and persuasive.

You bite your lip, your head swimming with lust, “I-I forgive you-“

He smiles softly and presses a kiss to your forehead before snapping his hips forward, drawing out a moan from you.

“See? Doesn’t this feel good, darling?” He purrs, groaning as your walls flutter around him, “We’re perfect for each other.”

Your eyes roll back as he begins thrusting in and out of you, his hips working quickly. Drool slides down from your mouth as your body rocks due to the force of his thrusts. He feels heavenly, the way he’s ramming against your g-spot. Why hadn’t you let him fuck you before?

“Sanji-“ you call out.

“Yes, darling?”

“Feels so good…” you whimper, “Wanna feel like this forever…”

He lets out a light chuckle at that, “I’ll give this to you whenever you want, darling. I belong to you.”

With that, his hips begin to pick up speed, his balls slapping against your ass as he fucks you harshly. Your eyes shut tight as you really feel him, his cock stretching you out in all the right ways.

His swollen, leaking head grinds against your walls, the tip brushing past your g-spot before hitting your deepest depths with each thrust. Your eyes flutter as you open them back up to watch your boyfriend pound you, your hips connecting repeatedly.

“Oh darling,” he moans wantonly, “Your pussy keeps pulling me back in! It’s like it doesn’t want me to pull out-!”

Against your better judgment, you cry, “Don’t pull out! Cum in me!”

He growls at that and pushes your legs back, fucking you in a tight mating press.

“Oh, S-Sanji!” You purr, your toes curling as he thrusts deeper into you, “More, more!”

Sanji’s hips stutter at your begging, his cock leaking precum into your dripping wet hole.

“O-Oh, princess-!” His moans cause your pussy to clench tight, “I know I shouldn’t cum in you, but you feel too good-!”

“Just do it-!”

With that, he lets out a strained moan, and you feel his seed fill you up, the sticky and hot substance overflowing within you.

But he isn’t done; he keeps thrusting through his orgasm, causing you to reach your bursting point.

Your nails dig into his back as your walls flutter, his cock feeling perfectly at home within you.

After a few moments, he pulls out, and you feel the cum seeping out of your hole. You pant as you look up at your boyfriend, who admires how his fluids leaked out of you.

“Oh,” your legs are still shaking from your orgasm., “That was… really good…”

“Mm, I told you it would be.” Sanji smiles softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You reach out for Sanji, and he leans in, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck. You draw him close, his body hovering over yours as you lay your back against the soft bed. You two lay like that for some time before you speak up.

“Can we… do it again?”

And Sanji grins.

#vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji #x reader #cream's fics #one piece #one piece smut #fanfiction

215 notes · View notes

heyclickadee · 1 year

Text

Thoughts on “Faster”

1. THAT’S MY BOY!! THAT’S MY BOY!! MY BEAUTIFUL NERDY BOY!!! 2. I love that Echo and Hunter were out delivering space door dash. I joked about that with my sister once; I didn’t think it would actually be canon.

3. Even though I missed seeing Hunter and Echo (and Crosshair), I don’t think this episode would have worked with them in it. I’m not sure Hunter would have agreed to going with Cid in the first place, and even if he had, there’s no way he would have let Tech on that race track. They would absolutely shut down the shenanigans. I’d pay cash money to see his face when they all get back.

4. I know a lot of people are calling this one filler, and while I don’t agree seeing as how there was plot development or at least set up for plot development as well as some lovely character development for Tech, I’m glad this one was a bit more lighthearted than the first three. You can only delve so far into the angst before the audience becomes numb to it. You need to let them (and the characters) breathe a little before going any farther with it. I’m genuinely glad they just got to have a good (albeit dangerous) time.

5. Tech, seeing riot racing for the first time: It would appear that anything goes out there.

Tech internally: If I do not get out on that track within one standard hour I will perish. 6. I LOVE how, in contrast to the first season, which highlighted the batch as a team and what their roles on the team were, this season is focusing more on the batch as individuals. It’s less about what the team will do and more about what each member of the team might want. For Tech, that seems to mean opening his eyes to the possibility of life outside of war and combat, not just for himself but to the idea that there’s so much of the galaxy that existed before and outside of the war that he’s never thought about, as well as presenting him with the idea that he’s good for something besides fighting. And given the conflict between Hunter and Echo (who ultimately want the same thing but are looking to get there in different ways), I’d say that’s going to be really important later on down the line.

7. Along those same lines, I’m adoring the throughline between Crosshair’s desperation to stay relevant using the only skills he thinks he has, Echo’s determination to fight back using the only skillset (being a soldier) he thinks he has, and Tech’s frustration with Cid wasting their skills on things like space door dash. They were designed to do one specific thing, and the republic they were designed to do it for no longer exists. They’re all floundering and struggling to find their own sense of purpose, the same way Hunter seemed to find his back in season one.

8. TAY-0 was. Oh boy.

9. Obnoxious. Eminently punchable. The irony of casting Sonic the Hedgehog as the blue racing robot was not lost on me, but besides the “Gotta go fast,” aspect of that, casting Ben Schwartz as an egotistical, aggressively dramatic theater kid always works. He always plays that part well.

10. You could feel Tech was exactly 0.35 seconds from punching TAY-0 in his stupid metal face from pretty much the moment they met. That deadpan glare when TAY-0 told Tech to stop fixing him the wrong way? I felt that in my bones. The way Tech sighed and shook his head when TAY-0 said that Tech didn’t have strategy or skill? Dude was pissed and it’s almost like he’s had to mask his whole life. The, “Don’t try me right now, I’m done and I’m doing what I want,” look when Tech said he was going to be the one to race? Yes. Good.

11. The way that Tech clearly didn’t know how to respond to the crowd chanting his name because he’s not used to that kind of recognition, so he gave that little awkward half salute is going to live rent free in my head for a while. As is the fact that Tech did listen to everyone giving him advice but ultimately trusted his own judgement.

12. “Tech, you have to be in front to win!” “I know what I’m doing. It’s called strategy.” “No, it’s called losing!” I’m dying. I’m literally dead.

13. So...Tech doesn’t trust Cid. Which, he shouldn’t, of course. Besides Millegi’s warning at the end, the way Cid was acting all the way through this episode makes me think she’s definitely got something shady in store for the boys. And the thing is, I don’t think it’s something she’s planning on doing--I think it’s something she’s already done. I suspect she actually sold them out to some extent way back, maybe back in season one, in a way that’s going to get them in big trouble this season, and that she’s maybe starting to regret it because a part of her actually likes them.

14. Wrecker and Omega playing chess at the beginning of the episode! Omega putting things on the line to help Cid! Wrecker and Omega being so happy when Tech won! Tech with his hand on Omega’s shoulder and Wrecker doing that affectionate shoulder punch! I love them!

15. The poor guy who got shot at during the race at the beginning of the episode. I know this was a much lighter episode than the last few, but dang. That’s...kinda dark.

16. I cracked up when the announcer lampshaded how odd clone names are in-universe, especially when they don’t have the “they’re a clone” context.

#the bad batch #the bad batch season two #tbb spoilers #tbbspoilers #the bad batch spoilers #tech!#i love him!#semi-coherent thoughts? on my blog? it's more likely than you think #tbb tech #this season is perfect so far actually

96 notes · View notes

ronoken · 2 years

Text

There’s Something Off About Your Roommate

There’s something off about your roommate.

You two met a couple months ago when she applied for the sublease position. At the time, you were so happy to see Brad leave you didn’t care who replaced him. Hell, you practically boxed up his shitty Playstation games and half-naked posters yourself. Watching him leave was the end of two failed years of trying to keep a relationship on life support. His slamming the door was the merciful pulling of the plug.

But that left you with a double rent payment. So, like any college student with low self-preservation and even less money, you put out an ad for a roomie. The apartment was a two bedroom and with Brad gone, the “game room” as he’d called it was vacant. All you needed for premed was your bookshelf, your tiny glass top desk and your sticker-covered laptop. Well, all that and fifty thousand dollars, but that was beside the point.

When Lilith answered the ad, she’d done so in person, and after you’d gotten home from a double at the Starbucks near the Village. Weird that she couldn’t wait, but hey, she had cash in hand. She was the quiet type, with long black hair and large green eyes that darted around, soaking in everything about your microscopic living space. She didn’t smile much, and she didn’t have much stuff, but she could pay the sublease in its entirety and promised to stay out of your hair. She seemed a little off, but hey, who were you to judge?

Lilith didn’t strike you as a party animal, but she was definitely a night owl. You almost never saw her during the day. She kept her door closed and she carried her toiletries with her in a small pink plastic basket, so nothing was ever left in the bathroom. She never touched your food and kept hers to one side of the fridge in a pile that never seems to change.

There was never a mess left out. The living room always looked untouched when you came home. In fact, she was so good about not being present that you were beginning to clean up after yourself more just because of how self-conscious her neatness was making you feel. It was a drastic but welcome change from the gross hair clippings and half-empty beer cans of the Brad era.

Sometimes you’d hear Lilith go out at night. Sometimes you’d try to catch her, but more often than not she’d sneak out while you were in the bathroom or studying with your door shut. In fact, in those first two months, you felt like you could count on one hand how many times you’d interacted with Lilith in the living room. She never wanted to watch any TV, never seemed to get any calls, nothing. She seemed to be allergic to media.

***

The first time your perception shifts from “I have a very private roomie” to “something seems off” is in the kitchen. It’s nearly midnight, and you are woken from your hunched position at your desk by a cry of pain. You know the difference. There’s a distinct sound people make when they’re hurt as opposed to surprised or scared. You’d made that same noise too many times in the last two years not to recognize it.

You find Lilith near the stove, clutching her hand and hissing to herself. You instantly see her palm was burned, and being you, you don’t waste any time. She only notices your presence when you take her ice-cold hand and half-drag her to the sink to run some water over it.

“Sorry,” she keeps mumbling. “I wasn’t paying attention. You don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine.”

Her voice is scratchy, like she hadn’t used it in a while. You almost have to strain over the sound of the running water to understand what she is saying.

“No big deal,” you tell her. You flash a smile and examine the wound. The burn looks bad. She must have grabbed something hot from the stove and not noticed what she was doing until it was too late. “That’s pretty nasty. Wait here. I’ll go get the first aid kit.”

“You really don’t need to. It’s my fault,” Lilith starts. You hold up a hand and shake your head.

“I said it’s no biggie. Now wait here.” You barely register the clamshell headphone case your foot bumped as you make your way to the linen closet for your first aid kit. When you come back to the kitchen properly armed to treat a wound, you find Lilith trying to rip open the thick plastic packaging with her bare hands. She’s in the process of gnawing on it when she sees you and blushes.

“Those things are terrible,” you say. “Here, let me grab a knife.”

Lilith jerks towards you, but then pulls back. She eyes the silverware drawer nervously as you root around for a sharp steak knife. That’s when you notice one of the nice ones your mom sent you off to school with on the floor. “Were you trying to get it open with this?”

Lilith nods. “I wasn’t paying attention and, well…” she rubs her hand.

You shrug it off. It’s clear your roomie isn’t used to person-time. “These things can be slippery. I think they’re too nice, but they were a gift. Here.” You cut through the clamshell packaging and hand her the set of green ear buds.

Lilith nods and mumbled a quick “thank you” as she stuffs the buds in her sweatpants pocket. You set to tending her wound and making sure she is wrapped properly. The entire time, Lilith squirms in place, but she doesn’t pull back.

“This is very kind of you,” she mutters. Her voice sounds like leaves rustling in a cold autumn breeze. Her skin is cool to the touch as you finish her wrappings.

“Please stop. We’re roomies. It’s totally cool. Besides, I’ve had practice.”

Lilith looks up from her hands as you roll up your sleeve to show her a splotch of smooth, pink flesh on our shoulder. “Iron. He was drunk and I was slow. It happens.”

Lilith reaches out to touch the wound, but then stops herself. She reminds you of a scared animal that’s trying to figure out if it can trust the person in front of it.

You can tell Lilith isn’t used to being social. You wonder how much more mental energy she has in the tank when you say, “hey, you wanna hang out? I know it’s late, but we could look for a movie. I’ve got Hulu.”

Lilith blinks in confusion and cocks her head. “What’s a Hulu?”

Before you can answer, she shakes her head and says, “I don’t… No, thank you. I need to go out.” She turns for the door, and you want to remind her that she’s in nothing but dark green sweats and a loose tank top, but hey, she’s an adult and it’s not like its winter out.

“You sure? I’ve got some ice cream,” you point to the freezer. This is the most effort you’ve made into trying to make nice with Lilith since she moved in, and you find yourself painfully aware that you’re failing miserably.

“Oh, um, no, thank you. I can’t eat that,” she says. “But, thank you? Maybe we can try some Hulu another night?”

Weird way of putting it, but hey, she didn’t completely shoot down your offer to hang out. Roommate points! And hey, so she’s lactose intolerant. No big deal. There are other desserts. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Cool.”

Her mouth quirks into a small smile at that, like she’s amused. “Cool,” she parrots. It almost feels like she’s trying the word out.

Before you know what’s happening, Lilith is sliding her earbuds out of her pocket and into her ears. She’s out the door in less than three seconds.

You turn to the kitchen to clean up, but that’s when you notice it. The stove is off. There’s no pot or pan out, and the sink is empty.

So, what did your roomie burn herself on?

***

The second time you notice something’s off is when you do your laundry. It’s a week later and despite your interaction, you still only see Lilith in passing. Before, it felt like she was actively avoiding being anywhere in the apartment you were, but now she’s leaving her room more, and least now she’s nodding at you. Yesterday, you found her examining a book on ancient Greece that you’d left on the coffee table. She’d looked up and nodded at you when you entered the room. That was becoming her thing in your eyes. Nodding.

You nod back. She smiles. Baby steps.

As you go to put your load into the tiny, stacked washer/dryer combo in the utilities closet, you notice something on the floor. Curious, you pick it up to find a white cotton tank top. You instantly clock it as Lilith’s as you don’t wear white tanks, but several times now you’ve seen Lilith wandering around in one.

Not this one, though. It’s completely stained with blood.

At first, you’re alarmed. This is considerably more than an okay amount of blood to be missing from a body, but then you remember she’d burned her hand, and she’d been wearing a tank top that night, and maybe she was a bleeder? Maybe she was also a bit sloppy about keeping her bandage on? To be fair, Lilith doesn’t strike you as being heavy into self-care, so it’s possible that’s what you’re seeing.

But it’s still a lot of blood.

You’ve got some whites that need washing, so you run a heavy bleach load and toss in her tank. Why not? It’s not like it’ll hurt anything.

When you fish it out of the dryer, it looks considerably better. It actually took two washes and a soak, but the blood stains seem to be gone. Happy with your work, you go to put the tank top on Lilith’s bed, but her door is locked. You knock, but there’s no response. You figure she’s either out or sleeping, so you hang the tank top from the door handle.

Later that night after your shift, you notice the tank top is gone. Also, there’s a post-it on your door that reads “Thank you.”

You smile. This is progress.

***

It’s two nights later. You’re working a late shift and your coworker had to dip out due to tummy troubles. You're pretty sure that was code for meeting up with her boyfriend, but you can’t keep her there, and the manager isn’t answering their phone, so you’re stuck closing by yourself.

And the guy at the far table won’t leave.

He’s been watching you for forty-five minutes and you’re getting the Something Is Very Wrong vibe from him. He’s got that look, that full-eyed intense look you recognize. You’d seen it plenty of times on Brad when he was in the mood. It was the look that meant if you were lucky, you could talk yourself out of having to perform for the evening. But only if you were lucky.

And the guy at the far table is giving that look to you now.

It’s not quite ten but you’re fed up with this shit and wanting to get away from this creep and into a hot shower. You close out the register but keep the music on. With the music on, it doesn’t feel quite as uncomfortable.

“We’re closing, Sir. You’ll need to finish up and head out. Thanks for stopping by.”

Years of menial customer service shine through in your voice and posture. Your smile is a perfect mask for the “get the fuck out of here” that’s laced in the sweetness of your words. You hope he takes the hint.

He stares at you and looks around, and for a moment you wonder how fast you can sprint to the backroom. Then he drops a five on the table and shuffles out the door. You’re behind him in a second, locking the deadbolt and breathing a sigh of relief. You take a long time to wipe everything down, just in case someone is lingering. You play the counter music extra loud to keep your mind from lingering on how that look made you feel.

You really, really want that shower.

When you check the back exit, everything seems fine. You look around twice, making sure your surroundings are secure as you lock the door and pocket the keys. You slip your ear buds in and click on your playlist as you make it onto the main street. Home is five blocks away, three of which are bright. The last two aren’t, but that’s okay. You’ve got pepper spray.

At least, that’s the thought you have while, on that very bright street, someone grabs you from behind and drags you into a side alley. Their hand is over your mouth before you can scream. You drop your pepper spray as you claw and grab at the arm wrapped around your neck. Every lesson you’ve ever had about self-defense flies out the window as fear washes over you. It’s admittedly not a proud moment, but panic is a helluva thing, as you’re finding out.

Coffee shop guy throws you to the ground and you land hard. You feel the first few blows to the face, but then things go a bit numb and hazy. He’s saying something, but he boxed your ear and everything is kinda warbly. You’re pushing and shoving him away, but he’s using his weight and you know what’s coming. You’ve been in this situation before, but different. You don’t know this man. You’re not in your bed. You do your best to brace yourself. You close your eyes.

There’s a scream, and suddenly there isn’t any weight on you. You hear something that sounds like the grinding of peppercorns with your mother’s pepper shaker, and that’s when something warm sprays across you.

You open your eyes, and coffee shop guy is gone. You’re covered in something sticky and wet, and there’s a hand on the ground.

It takes your mind a second to register that said hand isn’t attached to anything. It’s just there.

You scream and get the fuck out of there. Fuck this entire night.

When you get home and lock the door, you lean against it and feel that uncontrollable swift sobbing that comes with being overwhelmed. The entire ordeal took less than a minute, but you know you’re going to replay it in your mind on loop for the next six months.

When you finally collect yourself, you notice the door is smeared with something red where you’d leaned against it. You reach out to touch it and notice you’re covered in the red as well.

You’re pretty sure it’s blood, but you run to the bathroom and turn on that horrible mirror light that shows every single line and hair, just to be sure. You look like you were hit with a can of red spray paint. Your face is swelling up from where coffee shop guy hit you, but you’re 100% sure this blood isn’t yours.

You stay curled in the shower well past when the hot water stops. You come out an hour later wrapped in a towel and not wanting to deal with your dirty clothes, but you know they need to be stain treated.

Lilith is on the couch. She looks up from the book on ancient Greece and stares at you.

“Are you okay?”

Her voice is laced with concern. You didn’t see her when you came in. Maybe she saw the blood on the door. Maybe she heard you crying or noticed the handful of bloody clothes you’re carrying.

“I’ll be okay,” you say. You won’t. I mean, you will? But you really fucking won’t for a while.

You don’t ask how she knows you’re not okay. You don’t register this, as, well, you’re not fucking okay right now.

Lilith picks up a steaming mug from the side table and stands. She reaches out to hand you the coffee cup. “Tea,” she says in a halted voice. “For nerves. I’m told it works.”

You thank her and sip the tea. It tastes like she slit the bag open and dumped it in hot water. You look in the mug and see bits of tea dust floating around. You wonder if she’s ever made tea in her life.

“Thanks,” you say. “It’s perfect.”

Lilith nods. She takes your dirties and heads for the closet washer. You hope to God she can do laundry better than she can brew tea.

***

You notice that boxes of tea start to appear in the kitchen. Different brands, different flavors. They’re materializing each morning when you wake up, stacked increasingly higher in makeshift piles, like crude offerings.

You also notice there’s more food on your side of the fridge. You decidedly toss some frozen pizzas that were not stored in the freezer into the trash. Some fruit that’s been frozen joins them. It looks like someone took a wild guess as to how food is supposed to be stored, but all you register is there’s more food, and it's on your side, and there’s so much Goddamn tea.

It’s sweet. Fucking weird, but sweet.

***

That night, you emerge from your room to the smell of something hot and greasy. You quit your job and are looking for something that puts you in less of a dangerous position than your coffee shop. Seriously, your manager could have gotten off their ass and joined you that night. Fuck that place. You can take out another student loan. Just add it to the pile.

There’s a bag on the coffee table. You look around, but Lilith is gone again. There’s a post-in next to the bag that just says EAT. You notice there’s a receipt stapled to the side of the bag. It looks like a Doordash order, but the name on the order is Raymond, and there are red splotches on the white paper bag.

You look inside. There’s a double cheeseburger, a spilled curly fry, and a strawberry shake.

You decide the mystery of Raymond isn’t as important as how hungry you feel.

The burger tastes incredible.

You open the curtain on your patio window to look at the city lights and enjoy your meal in the kind-of dark of the apartment. You’re about to turn on the TV when Lilith unlocks the front door and steps inside. She stares at you expectantly as she stands still as a statue in the entryway.

“Is that good food?” The tone of her voice sounds less like she’s asking if you like it and more like she genuinely doesn’t know.

You nod. “It’s great. Thanks.” You actively force yourself not to ask about Raymond.

Lilith givers a stiff nod. “Are you okay?” She asks quickly. You sense her looking you over.

You nod again. Short communication seems to be Lilith’s thing. “Yeah, I’m great. How much do I owe you for the food?”

She cocks her head. “Owe?”

“Yeah. Um, the receipt says it was $23. Did you eat any?”

Lilith shakes her head. “No. I can’t eat that.”

“Oh, um, okay. Gimmie a sec and I’ll get some cash. I think I’ve got some.”

“It’s a gift.”

You pause. Lilith isn’t smiling, but she doesn’t look angry, either. She’s just doing that weird, wide-eyed blank thing that you sometimes notice her doing when you cross paths.

“Eat.” She gestures to the bag.

“Oh, well, in that case, thanks.”

Lilith slides off her shoes in the entranceway. You glance down. They’re slip-ons patterned with newspaper print. Kind of cute in a 1980’s way. You notice some blood stains across their tops.

“I was gonna watch some Hulu. You wanna join me?” You gesture to the television in an effort to ignore her footwear.

Lilith shakes her head. “I don’t like the smell,” she says. She nods towards the bag.

So, she’s not a fast-food girl. That’s cool.

She turns to go to her room. You turn your attention to the window and notice your reflection.

You only register you can’t see Lilith when you see the door to her room close by itself.

The fries are next level. You try not to think about Raymond.

***

You know better than to open the door when someone knocks, but you’re cleaning and you’ve got the music loud and you’re not sure if Lilith is a hard rock fan, so you’re taking advantage of being alone. You’re so distracted you don’t register your mistake until the door is open and Brad is standing there.

Stunned, you step back as he walks in. He hands you a bouquet of pink roses that you dumbly take. Honestly, you’re on autopilot. Is this happening? You were cleaning. Why is Brad here? How is Brad here? Didn’t Brad leave forever? Are you asleep? Is this a nightmare?

You squeeze the roses as your common sense catches up with the situation. You register he’s talking about the apartment. He’s looking around at the new posters you’ve put up, the books you have out. Brad never liked your posters, and he hated your books. Now, he’s telling you how nice they are. This doesn’t register. None of this makes any sense.

Brad smiles at you and instantly your stomach tightens. You feel like you’re going to throw up. Two years’ worth of PTSD slam into you. Memories of fights, drinking, bad, bad nights, all of it. Brad is telling you how much he misses you.

He reaches out and you recoil. He doesn’t get to do that anymore. He doesn’t belong here.

He frowns, and the smile drops. Now he’s got that look. You can’t seem to get away from that look. That coffee shop guy look. That you’re-in-trouble look. You can see what he’s thinking clear as day. He’s emboldened by being in the apartment. He tells you you’re not being fair. He keeps walking towards you.

You can smell the beer on him. It’s wafting off his clothes and on his breath. You want to vomit at the thought of that breath touching you. He needs to leave.

You tell Brad to get out and he smiles again, but it’s a very-wrong smile and you instantly have memories of when you last saw that smile and you suddenly know with a cold certainty how your day is about to go. You feel yourself lock up inside. You wonder if you can get past him to the knives in the kitchen. The silver ones your mother gave you are the sharpest. They would make him think twice, just like he did last June when he’d had one too many and you got brave.

Brad is between you and the kitchen, and you sense he’s herding you backwards towards your door. You yell at him now, ordering him to leave. He laughs you off and reaches out. You keep swatting him away and throw the flowers at him, but this makes him move faster and grip you hard by the wrist.

You let out a scream.

What happens next is a bit of a blur, but you see Brad’s head jerk backwards and Lilith’s face is suddenly beside it. You see her lunge for his neck, her mouth open wide. You watch as long, sharp teeth tear through the soft flesh of his throat like he was made of paper.

Brad flails like a wild animal in a trap, but Lilith doesn’t budge. You watch as this five-foot even girl holds a man easily six-one and two hundred twenty pounds in place as she gorges herself on his blood. Brad’s scream sounds wet and gurgled as his eyes roll back into his skull. His skin goes chalk white as he shudders violently in her arms. You’re suddenly reminded of when you saw your dad tie a fish to the side of his boat when you were a kid. The helpless flapping. The look in the creature’s eyes that said it knew on some level it was dying.

You expect Lilith to just let go, but instead she digs her fingernails into his face and yanks back even harder. You let out a small scream as she tears his head off and starts ripping chunks of Brad out of the hole where his neck had been. She devours the chunks much the same way you ate Raymond’s fries the other night.

After a few moments, Lilith seems to snap out of her feeding frenzy. She looks around, suddenly aware of her surroundings. She stands and uses the back of her hand to wipe her face off, her eyes locked on yours the entire time. She’s drenched in blood head to toe and breathing hard, but she looks terrified. She reminds you of a child that’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

You take a deep breath. You take several, just to savor being alive. After all, you’re not 100% sure how tonight is going to play out.

You force yourself not to look at Brad.

For a second, you wonder if you’re next. Then you remember the coffee shop guy. You remember the awkward stacks of tea and the food that was shoved in the fridge. You remember the notes.

You lock eyes with Lilith. She’s waiting for you to say something.

“So,” your voice cracks, but you do your best to stay calm. “I can clean the floor if you can take care of,” you gesture wildly at what’s left of Brad. “This.”

Who’s saying this? The thought flashes through your mind. How are you this calm? She just ate Brad. She just ate Brad!

Your mind races with thoughts of how Brad treated you. Thoughts of the smell of beer on his breath. Of the look he was giving you. Of what he was about to do.

She just ate Brad.

You suddenly realize you’re cool with that.

Lilith nods. She gathers up the pieces of Brad and slinks out the open door. You let out the biggest breath you’ve ever held and go to get the bleach and a mop. You hope your hands will stop shaking.

***

Lilith is back in twenty minutes. You’ve gone through an entire roll of paper towels and you’re out of cleaning solution, but the apartment is about 90% back to normal. Lilith is covered in blood when she comes in, but she still takes her shoes off at the door.

“I can wash those for you,” you offer. “Do you want a shower?”

Lilith nods. She hands you a bloody wad of cash you’re guessing came from Brad’s wallet. “Sorry about the mess,” she says.

Her voice drifts in and out like a cold wind through a graveyard. It sounds like autumn and clouds and dark.

Autumn is your favorite time of year. This thought stays in your mind and doesn’t leave as you listen to her voice.

“Go shower,” you manage. “Just leave your clothes out for me.”

She strips right there in the middle of the apartment. You register that this is far from the weirdest thing that’s happened in the last hour as a bloody, naked Lilith walks by you and gently shuts the bathroom door. You quickly toss her clothes in the machine and pour in way too much softener.

When she comes out, she’s wrapped in a purple towel and still a little drippy, but blood-free. Her long black hair is wrapped in a brown towel from under the sink. You notice her cheeks seem to have a little more color than normal.

She stands in front of you. You’re sitting on the couch in front of the TV. A cup of properly brewed tea is in your hands and the Hulu landing page is on the screen. Every piece of actual silver silverware is currently in the trash can.

She looks at the TV like this is the first time she’s noticed it. You suddenly realize you’ve never once seen her in the room with it on. You wonder if she even knew how to turn it on.

“Is this a Hulu?” She asks. There’s a note in her voice. She sounds... Intrigued? She drifts to the television and lightly runs her fingers over the screen. “Pretty colors,” she murmurs.

After several seconds of staring at the bright screen, she turns around and registers that you’re watching her. She stands up straight and clears her throat.

“I think,” Lilith says in a halting voice. She bites her lip. “I think we need to talk.”

You take a deep breath. You scoot on the couch to make some room, and for the first time, Lilith sits down beside you.

You sip your tea.

You’re pretty fucking sure she doesn’t want any.

There’s something off about your roommate.

#writing #short story #original writing #my writing #theres something off about your roommate

211 notes · View notes

seconds-2-midnight · 7 months

Text

Posting the first chapter from my rejected PPG/GGG Mafia AU fanfic that I'm thinking of reviving eventually because I actually really liked it! The outline just needs work tbh

Most of it is under read-more just because it's long as shit. Content warning for language, drug use, and brief police violence.

Meet Me At the Green Eye

Ch 1:

June was unusually hot that summer. Those hazy afternoons were well spent by the beach, sitting near clunky old air conditioners, drinking cold beer. It was the kind of summer that was good for business if your business was built on laziness and leisure.

The boardwalk was a good place to score sales, Ace found. The grungy-looking college students on skateboards were always the best customers. He was counting a stack of cash, sitting on a bench near the end of the dock that overlooked a glittering stretch of ocean. One of his pointed leather boots was tapping on the pavement while he whistled cheerfully, one lanky leg crossed over the other. Not far away, Snake stood with his elbows on the rusted rails and a cigarette in the corner of his mouth, listening to the seagulls. Now and then, he’d kick his sneaker against a bit of gravel and watch the stones form ripples in the water below.

“Arturo was right,” Ace said with a high-pitched chuckle. He grinned widely, one of his gold teeth catching the sunlight. “This was a good spot. Hey, speakin’ of, how much product we got left in there, compadre?” He waltzed over with his hands in his pockets, nodding his head toward a messenger bag that was draped over Snake’s shoulder.

“Lemme check,” Snake said hoarsely, gritting his teeth around the end of his cigarette to keep it in place as he rummaged around. He squinted, clicking his tongue in thought. “Ehh…eight ouncesss, give or take…three bags of molly…and five bags of the little blue ones.”

“Shit, day’s not over yet,” Ace said, giving his friend a nudge to the shoulder. He elbowed him a little too hard, causing Snake to flinch and whine quietly. He hated it when he did that. “Can’t wait to count it out later. We got a big score today, I can feel it already. It’s like a change in the wind. We’ll finally get enough for that down payment, huh?”

Not this again. Snake rolled his eyes, thin shoulders slumped dramatically. Ace was always going on and on about this shitty old building that used to be a nightclub, convinced the old owners would sell it to him for cheap and he’d turn it into a bar. ‘We’ll call it The Green Eye’, Ace would say, ‘We’ll get hot dancers, we’ll sell our product out the back for extra cash, it’ll be huge.’ Snake thought it was a fool’s errand, a waste of money. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to argue with Ace. Still his yes-man, through and through, after all these years.

A decade had passed since the Powerpuff Girls left Townsville. Maybe it was because they were growing up, maybe it was because they wanted to try a normal life…who knows? What mattered was that Townsville was more out of control than ever before. And in that time, the Gangreen Gang had changed. Once a group of rowdy teenage boys, they were now fully-grown assholes, but just as despicable as ever. They had bigger goals now, bigger plans - Ace wanted to carve out his own little slice of heaven in this dirty, neon hellscape. And for the first time, it actually seemed possible…but a run-down building in the worst part of town was a dangerous place to start.

“Y’know, jefe…” Snake began nervously, wincing already. He knew this conversation would end badly for him. “I-I don’t wanna doubt your decisionsss but…Maybe it’s better if we start sssmall? Like, getting a bigger apartment for starters. Or renting a houssse instead, one with more bedrooms and–”

Ace scoffed. “And sink our money into a place that Billy’s gonna wreck in, like, a week? Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, this is foolproof. Once the money’s rollin’ in, we’re moving up to a penthouse suite. Rags to riches, my friend. Oh! That reminds me… Hey, listen, bud. Buddy. Pal. My oldest friend. Amigo, old bean, apple of my eye…” Ace was wearing a big toothy grin, putting an arm around his second-in-command with a sly tone of voice and the smell of cheap cologne and hair gel radiating off of him. Snake grinned for a brief second in time, soaking up that tiny bit of approval.

“Since we’re on the subject, I’ve got somewhere to be, actually - gonna talk to a guy about fixin’ the plumbing at that old place. Busted pipe in the basement, sewage everywhere! Anywho’s, take over for me, will ya? Thatta' boy...” Ace gave Snake another sharp slap to the arm, making the other man flinch. It was second nature at this point. With a grimace disguised as an awkward, snaggle-toothed smile, Snake rubbed the sore spot and sighed.

“Yeah, sure.” Of course he just wants me to do more work. “Oh, I’m stoppin’ by Hazel’s shop on the way back, by the way. Tell the guys not to wait up for me.”

Ace scoffed, sticking his hands in the pockets of his leather pants. He rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, voicing a heavy and exasperated groan. “Man, that dame has still got you on a tight leash, huh? Y’know she only lets you get it in ‘cause you’re her dealer.”

Snake gave him a grumpy, defensive frown, his ears growing warm. “We don’t…I mean…I’m still working on that part–”

Ace let out a loud and sudden laugh. “You ain’t even gettin’ any? Oh, man…tough luck.” He pushed up his sunglasses, still wearing a shit-eating grin as he turned around, waving the keys to his motorcycle over his head. “Anyway, see you later tonight, Captain Friendzone. And tell your creepy friend I said ‘hi’.”

With that, he was gone, the green-skinned hooligan disappearing into a crowd of people and leaving Snake at the end of the docks alone, where he watched the sunset glimmer against the calm ocean waves. It was six-thirty. He was just about to get another rush of sales that would put a nice wad of cash in his pockets.

He didn’t know it yet, but Snake was going to have a very good day that would end in a very bad night. In a matter of hours, he would make his rent for the month, kiss a witch, and end up in jail before midnight.

He was a surprisingly good salesman, all things considered. By the time the sun went down and the crowds dispersed, Snake had sold everything in the bag except for one remaining quarter of Hazel’s favorite strain. He took the cash and his nearly empty bag and began the long walk through dark urban streets. Townsville wasn’t any quieter at night than it was in the day. He could hear sirens blaring somewhere in the distance, joyful shouts and hollering from a beach bonfire, and loud pulsing music from the clubs down the way.

Snake liked walking late at night, for the most part. It was a lonely and peaceful trip when you knew the right path to take. He passed flickering neon signs and drunk idiots staggering out of bars, all while making his way through alley shortcuts to get to the big brick building just next to the tracks where the occasional passing train would rattle the windows.

Yasmin’s shop was closed to walk-ins but open for appointments. This was good enough for him. Snake knocked, hearing the muffled sounds of ethereal ambient music from the other side before voices and footsteps drowned it out. The door cracked open and immediately, Snake caught the scent of burning incense and dried lavender. When the owner of the place opened the door, her good mood immediately deflated.

“Oh, it’s you,” Yasmin Abajian herself was the one who answered the door. She was a tall young woman with dark olive skin and hair that went down to her ass, and she probably would have been a lot friendlier if she didn’t eye Snake with suspicion every time she saw him. She knew his reputation, his gang involvement, his business. And if that wasn't enough, she just didn't like the guy. His weird little friendship with her on-and-off-again girlfriend was reason enough for her to want to slam the door in his face.

“If you’re looking for Haze, she’s busy doing a reading,” Yasmin said, holding the door open just a crack and preparing to shut it. She would have, if Snake didn't stick his hand in the gap.

“I can wait.” He leaned against the wall as if claiming his spot. Yasmin sneered at him in response, recognizing that stubborn, snarky grin on his face - she wasn’t getting rid of him. She could never get rid of him.

“Fine, whatever, get in.” She pushed the door open and stepped aside. “But remember, we’ve got security cameras now. So don't get any ideas.”

Snake snorted with laughter. “I’m not gonna steal any of your rocks. You can save your hexes for the next guy.”

Yasmin wore a fake smile, turning back toward the counter. “Yeah, you’re real funny, asshole. Close the door behind you.”

Yasmin’s shop was an overload to the senses. The main room was cluttered with tables of crystals, ornate hookahs, statues of naked goddesses, and candles. There were bookshelves with texts that Snake wouldn’t even know what to do with and packs of cards that he felt wouldn’t serve him very well in a game of poker. Near the back of the room, he saw a doorway shrouded by a silk sheet decorated with the phases of the moon. That was Hazel’s reading room. He spent plenty of time in there, but right now, she was busy saying goodbye to another customer.

When Hazel came out of the room, she was followed by a middle-aged woman dressed in a gaudy amount of jewelry. Beside Hazel, it was like a peacock standing next to a blackbird. Haze was a stout little shit: full-figured, plump, and about five feet tall if she wore her platform shoes. Her wavy black hair was cut in a French bob, framing her round, rosy-cheeked face like a goth Cabbage Patch Kid.

“Get home safe, my love,” Hazel said, giving the other woman a kiss on one cheek and then the other, holding both of her hands. “Remember, change is good. Don’t worry so much, and good luck with the job interview! Keep that coin in your pocket, it’ll help. Then come back and tell me how it went, okay?”

“Maybe next week,” the lady chuckled. “Thanks again, sweetpea.” The woman in her gaudy jewelry finally left after one more kiss on the cheek, and Snake found himself wondering why Hazel seemed to kiss all of her regular customers… except for him.

When the customer passed by, Yasmin marched over with a scowl and spoke quietly in Hazel’s ear, handing her a white cane. Snake could still hear her.

“That green freak is here again,” Yasmin whispered, earning a pout from her friend. “Honey, you gotta stop encouraging this guy, he’s gonna get you in tr–”

“Shh, it’s fine! Hold my cane, okay?” Instead of looking offended, Hazel just wore this big, stupid gap-toothed grin. Slipping past Yasmin, Hazel pushed her cane back into her friend’s hands and reached out into the open room, wiggling her fingers in beckoning. Snake instinctively grabbed them, leading her to where he stood.

“Mi querida,” she said in her breathy, husky voice, pulling him in for a hug and standing on her toes. She smelled like patchouli and it made Snake’s nose tickle. “I thought you forgot about me. How’ve you been?”

“Not too terrible,” Snake said. He wore a shit-eating grin as he hugged her tightly, making eye contact with Yasmin over Hazel’s shoulder. He noticed her annoyed, red-faced expression and squeezed her waist even tighter out of spite. “I was, uh, workin’ the boardwalk again today…Thought I’d stop by quick before you left for the night.”

“You caught me right on time.” Hazel backed up, reaching for the cloth that separated the main room from her reading room. “Come in, that was my last appointment for the night. I’m all yours.”

She pulled him along by the hand and he didn’t hesitate. Bag secured around his shoulder, he rudely flicked his tongue at Yasmin and then hurried through the silk partition and into a small, dark room with a round table in the center. It was lit by purple neon light, casting an eerie supernatural shine from below. The air smelled like incense and something by Sisters of Mercy was playing quietly from a speaker in the corner.

Seeing the couch against the wall brought back memories of lounging half-awake in a dumb stupor, losing track of time. He could still smell the hookah smoke in his memory and taste it on his tongue. He thought about how Hazel always talked slower when she was high and how much he liked to watch her lips move when she talked.

Her voice snapped him out of his daydream.

“So what’s up?” Hazel asked, sitting down on one side of the table. She started to shuffle a deck of tarot cards, sorting them for storage. “Just in the neighborhood, or were you looking for another reading?”

“Little bit of both,” Snake said with a grin, putting his bag on the table. “I brought you sssomething’. Thought you might be interested in talking about a discount?”

“Oh, we’re talkin’ business. I see,” Hazel teased, her voice low and rattly. She pouted dramatically. “And here I thought you just missed me. So what’cha got for me, sweet stuff?”

Sweet stuff. She was always coming up with these friendly, cute little names to call him. He was a green-skinned gang member with a forked tongue, tattoos, and a criminal record a mile long but she called him sweet stuff. Then again, she couldn’t see him. Maybe that was for the best - he wasn’t so sure she’d still be flirting with him if she saw what he looked like.

Snake put a plastic baggie on the table, opening it slightly for Hazel to smell if she wanted to. “A quarter. Good shit, too. I’d put it at 150 usually for this stuff, but for you, I’ll do…100 and a quick reading. I even saved your favorite strain for you.”

“Oh, you do love me,” Hazel smirked out of the corner of her mouth, puffy lips making a dimple in one cheek. “That sounds fair. You know what I like, papi~ Oh, here–”

She reached into one of her pockets, pulling out a wad of cash from her last few clients. “I trust you,” she said as she slapped it down on the table in front of Snake, who began to flick through the bills with black-painted fingernails. He separated one hundred dollars from the stack and passed the rest over, continuously amazed that this woman trusted him with free reign to her wallet on so many occasions.

“Ssso,” Snake lowered his lisping voice, chuckling quietly under his breath while Hazel shuffled her cards, “Yasmin’s in a rotted mood today, isn’t she? More than usual…You dump her ass again?”

Hazel wore a tiny smirk. “Not me this time. We're back to friendship without benefits and Yasmin wants to find a real girlfriend,” she shook her head with a sigh. No strings attached, that’s what she always said it was. Snake wouldn’t admit it, but he felt a little swell of joy at the news. “Girl from downtown. Works at the club. They danced together a couple of times and Yasmin was surprised she didn’t want anything long-term.”

“Ouch,” Snake grimaced. He didn’t like Yasmin, but he could sympathize with the feeling.

“Aside from that?” Hazel shrugged. “Doesn't help your case that she saw your friend on the news earlier.”

"Almost forgot about that," Snake gritted his teeth in discomfort. “Yeah, Ace has gotten a bit…bold lately. He has been since the girls disappeared.”

“I’ll say,” Hazel sighed. “Robbing a gas station is one thing. That’s small time, no one gives a shit…but three stores in one night?”

It was a miracle Ace hadn’t gotten in trouble yet, honestly. He wasn’t stupid about it. He wore a mask and he covered his face, but people who knew him still recognized who it was. Yasmin was one of those people, and unfortunately for Hazel, she hadn’t stopped bitching about it since the robbery ended up on the news. The only reason she hadn’t spoken to the police yet was because Hazel promised that Snake could move in with them if the guys lost their breadwinner.

So, Ace stayed at large, as many criminals did. Townsville had been dependent on heroes for so long that law enforcement had all but forgotten how to do their jobs.

The cards were laid out on the table, face-down. Hazel pulled her hands away, then tapped a long black nail against an empty spot.

“Pick three and put them here. No peeking,” she said. Snake knew the rules at this point. He did as she said, sliding the cards into place one at a time.

She turned the first card over, running her fingers along the bottom. The text was written in braille - Snake wasn’t surprised that kind of thing existed, but it was always impressive to watch the way she could figure it out just with a slide of her fingertip.

“The Hermit,” she said softly. It was a card Snake had gotten before. “You’ve got some soul-searching to do, chulo. You either need time alone or you’re going to get time alone, and you should be using that time to figure out what it is that you want. Not what your friends want, not what you think you need - I’m talking about real introspection. So look inwards, don’t let someone else influence you.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing? Influencing me?” Snake asked with a shitty smirk. Hazel couldn’t see the look on his face, but she could hear it in the sly tone of voice as his black-painted lips curled into a smile. She crinkled her nose at him.

“Okay, smartass. You know what I mean.” With a fond smile, she turned the second card. This one was flipped. “Nine of Wands, reversed.” She clicked her tongue ring against her teeth a few times. “You’re stuck. You’ve got big setbacks coming your way and you’re going to struggle to find resilience, but you must, or you’re not going to make it to your goals. If I know you - and I do, Sanford - you’re feeling a lack of support from those around you…Maybe your friends aren’t listening to you? Maybe you feel like you’re being ignored, undervalued, underutilized?”

She stared across the table at him, but not in the way someone with sight might stare. Her cloudy, pale eyes were searching his soul, and the way they somehow centered on Snake’s face was eerie. Those dark Argentinian lashes blinked slowly and her empty gaze remained direct. Snake found himself trapped in that ghostly stare for a moment, his heart beating a little faster before he nodded his head.

“Not too far off,” he chuckled anxiously. “Heh, y-you know, the guyss don’t like to listen to reason most of the time. I put in a lot of work for Ace, especially now that he’s so ssstuck on his new nightclub idea…It feels like he’s not giving me a fair cut for all the effort I put in, y’know? I-I have a good idea or I try to bring a little wisdom to the conversation and they just sshut me up or Ace ssmacks me in the nose or–or–”

“Can I speak frankly?” Hazel asked, sitting back with one knee up and her fingernails clicking together.

Snake just snorted. “You’re going to anyway, aren’t you?”

“Sure am, baby~” Hazel hummed sweetly, before leaning forward and sliding a hand across the table. It took her a moment to find Snake’s, but when she did, she turned his palm over and began tracing lines with one of her fingernails. The sharp tickle made his spine shiver. “You’re a pushover, darlin’. You always have been.” Snake started to laugh, but Hazel continued regardless. “Don’t dismiss it, you know I’m right. I’ve known you for years and you never stand up for yourself. And I’m not talking about witty little quips or venting to me, I’m talking about actually having a backbone. You’re a noodle.”

“I’m a noodle?” Snake giggled hoarsely. “Is that what I am?”

“Yessir, just a big dumb noodle.” Hazel laughed, sticking her tongue out between her teeth. Her tongue piercing briefly clicked against them. “Don’t get me wrong, everyone loves noodles, but when you have a noodle for a spine, it’s hard to stand up straight. Start setting boundaries. Start saying ‘no’. Trust me, you’ll notice a difference.”

Hazel didn’t know the full story. Snake didn’t tell her the full story. Saying ‘no’ wasn’t very simple, not when Ace was in one of his bad moods. He wouldn’t say it was bad advice, only that it was…well, a work in progress that wasn’t going to happen overnight.

She turned the last card over. This one was upright, with an eerie image of a horned demon on the front, leathery bat wings behind it.

“The Devil,” Hazel said, frowning slightly. “This could go several different ways. On one hand, you might be dealing with an addiction you need to let go of. A habit. And I don’t just mean drugs, cigarettes, weed, porn, whatever - those aren’t even the most damaging attachments a person can have. You’ve got a dark shadow of yourself that’s restricting you, an internal villain who wants to hold you back and control you. A parasite. You might be holding on tightly to something that’s trying to suck the life out of you.”

“Eesh,” Snake hissed, sticking his forked tongue between his teeth. “Doesn’t ssound promising for me, does it?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Hazel shrugged. “This could be a good thing. Once you know your villains, you can figure out how to defeat them. Besides, this is also the card of sexuality and desire too. It might be hinting at a passionate attachment waiting to happen, you just have to make sure it doesn’t consume you. Desire can quickly turn into an addiction, a jealous obsession.”

Snake felt his breath hitch slightly when he noticed that look on her face: teasing, flirtatious, playful but still darkly serious. With Hazel, he could never tell her motives. The way she smiled at him, the way she hugged him, her puckish energy … She was like a fae creature with perplexing methods, wise and chaotic all at once. Snake couldn’t parse it. Is she making fun of me? Does she want to sleep with me? Is she just like this with everyone? He tried not to think about it too much and quickly tore his eyes away when he realized his gaze had been wandering. He felt infinitely worse when he realized her blind eyes would never catch him doing it.

“Heh, s-so either way, I’m getting fucked?” he joked, trying to break the tension.

Hazel laughed hoarsely, scooping up the cards and putting them away in a box. “I guess you could say that. Just remember, this is always up to interpretation. That’s kind of the thing with glorified spooky therapy, you're the one who has to do the work. Just don’t forget what I told you about your noodle spine, okay?”

“I’ll try not to,” Snake sighed as he stood up, putting his bag over his shoulder again. “I should get back. If I don’t bring the cash to Ace, he’ll get…well, you know how he iss.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Hazel stood, putting her cards back on the shelf where they belonged. “Get home safe, okay? Be careful on the subway, the weirdos are out. And don’t be a stranger.” She reached out for another hug, holding tighter this time. There was something there, some foreboding anxiety that she felt in the pit of her stomach. The cards, the nervousness in Snake’s voice, hearing about Ace’s crime spree on the news…She felt like something bad was about to happen, but she didn’t know what.

Her own cards had been warning her all day: heartbreak, loss, helplessness. Bad news was on the way and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She felt compelled to hold the hug as long as she could, almost as if letting go meant losing her friend forever.

“I’ll be back next week,” Snake said. It was rare for him to ever speak in such absolutes. “I’ll have another quarter for you by then. Maybe we can…I dunno, hang out and ssmoke a bit? Y-you know, chill at your place?”

“I’d like that, papito…” Hazel finally slid her arms away from the hug, leaving her hands propped on Snake’s shoulders. Then, without warning or hesitation, she leaned in and kissed him softly on the corner of his mouth. Her lips were warm and pillowy. The way her piercing brushed against Snake’s bottom lip made his heart skip a beat. Maybe she had just been aiming for his cheek; he didn’t know. All he knew was that he was too dumbstruck to do or say anything and Hazel didn’t even acknowledge it.

“See you next week…sweet stuff,” she smiled. Snake was still off in another dimension of thought, too distracted to notice the sorrow and worry in her eyes.

He was still thinking about her lips when he left the store. He was thinking about them while he was on the subway, trying to avoid a drunk and belligerent man who was shouting at him while waving a bible over his head. And when he got back to the shitty little apartment he shared with his four friends, he was absolutely cursing himself for not being brave enough to kiss her back.

“There you are,” Ace said as soon as Snake entered. It was almost midnight, and everyone was still awake and huddled around the television with a cloud of smoke filling the dirty living room. Pizza boxes were already attracting flies, a dusty old fan was chugging along in the corner, and the whole place reeked of weed and alcohol. Ace looked as comfortable as ever, wearing his sunglasses inside like a tool. “Thought you got lost, shithead. How’s your big titty goth girlfriend? Get any yet?”

“Shut up,” Snake groaned, tossing his bag onto Ace’s lap with annoyance. “No, we’re not like that…I got a kiss though, that’s gotta mean somethin’.”

Lil' Arturo chuckled. “Whatever, man, she kisses everyone.”

“Yeah, well, she calls me papi.”

Arturo choked on his beer. “Okay, that’s fuckin' weird but I’ll let you have that one.” He let out a sharp giggle and Snake couldn’t help but smirk like a smug little jackass.

Ace sat up straight, rummaging through the bag on his lap and pulling out wads of cash. He was counting them, laying them out on the sofa cushions while Snake sat down in a lumpy armchair and pulled out a lighter. His twisted spine curved until he was melting into the seat. He was just getting comfortable when Ace let out a laugh of triumph.

“Shit, man. We did good today,” he nodded proudly. “Perfect timing too. I talked to Pete - the landlord, y’know? He says he’ll let us rent to own that place on Monroe for four thousand a month if we give ‘im the security deposit in cash. Huh? Not bad.”

“Not bad at all!” Arturo cheered first, while a wave of agreement passed through the group. Snake seemed to be the only one who didn’t immediately seem convinced.

“Wha–no! No, four thousand a month?!” he let out an incredulous laugh. “Just for the sspace alone? We can’t afford that! Not with everything elssse! You still have to worry about the electric bill, repairs, not to mention hiring sstaff–”

Ace interrupted him with an exasperated groan, leaning his head back against the couch. “Oh my gooood, Snake, shuddup!” ” he yelled, picking up an empty beer can and tossing it at his friend’s head. It hit him right in the temple with a loud clang. The rest of the guys started laughing uproariously while Ace continued. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it before, we know! Listen, ya gotta lose money to make money. And where are we gonna get another deal like this? Huh?”

“Uh, I know!” Billy spoke up suddenly and raised his hand, just as his video game went to a loading screen. “Uhhh…um...wait...nowheres?”

“That’s right, Billy, nowheres,” Ace said, pointing at his giant friend with a smile. “We can’t get a deal like this nowheres, so I ain’t passin’ it up. Besides, I make the rules around here and I say, we’re buyin’ that joint and we’re turnin’ it into the best goddamn club Townsville’s ever seen. And we’re doin’ it with or without ya.”

While the other three were cheering Ace on, going along with any half-baked idea he could think up, Snake was pinching the bridge of his large, repeatedly-broken nose and trying to fight back a migraine that was threatening to strike. As his eyes were closed, however, a second beer can went flying at his head and the room erupted into cackling laughter. This one hit him directly in the ear. Some things never changed.

“Hey, seein’ as you’re bein’ a stick in the mud, you can go get us more beer,” Ace said, tossing a wad of cash into Snake’s lap. “Get us somethin’ good too, it’s a celebration.”

“Sseriously?” Snake hissed. “I just sat down–”

“All the more reason,” Ace argued. “Everyone else is comfortable. Go on, get outta here. And buy a better mood while you’re at it, will ya?”

Snake got up from his seat, tossing his hands up in the air in annoyance. As he left, he slammed the apartment door behind him and shoved his fists into his pockets, mumbling to himself angrily as he passed flickering yellow lights and dirty, peeling wallpaper. One of the neighbors was shouting, having an argument with their spouse. Another was playing loud music that made the floor shake. Someone was throwing up in the stairwell. This was their reality - rusty water, mold, and noise.

I should have never gone home, he thought. I should have kissed her. I should have used some of that cash to get a motel room. Maybe she would have gone with me. Maybe we could have spent the night together. Just once. God, I’m so fucking stupid, why didn’t I do it? Why didn’t I just walk back in there and do it?

But it was too late to go back and try again now. He remembered the reading she gave him. It was time for introspection, it was time for him to finally figure out what he wanted. He made a silent promise to himself that the next time he saw her, he'd finally shoot his shot and let her know that what he wanted was sitting on the other side of that table the whole time.

The gas station was quiet. The walk there was calm and slow, lit by the glow of fire trucks a few streets down and serenaded by the blare of distant sirens. When Snake pushed open the front door, the bell jingling overhead, he noticed the way the cashier didn’t speak to him. The young man at the register just stared, his demeanor bristling slightly. Not wanting any trouble, Snake just lazily waved a peace sign in his direction, showing his hands were empty.

People around here knew. There weren’t many folks who didn’t know who he was, who his friends were, what they did. It was the reason why Yasmin hated him spending time at her shop. It was the reason why they could hardly get service anywhere, and why it had taken months to find an apartment landlord who would rent to them.

It was why Snake didn’t think twice about the cashier’s reaction. He was standing back near the drinks, minding his business while the young man on the other side of the store dialed the phone and whispered quietly into the receiver.

Moments later, Snake brought a box of beer up to the front, reaching into one of his pockets to dig around for his identification. He stuck a money clip in his teeth while he fumbled with the card, finally digging it out and slapping it on the table.

“Don’t worry, I’m payin’ honessstly,” he said with a sigh, still watching the cashier tense up with anxiety. Without a word, the boy at the register handed Snake his change as quickly as possible and backed away, not even bothering to give him a receipt.

As he left the gas station, Snake assumed the reaction was just because of how he looked. He didn’t realize that the gas station he had just entered was one of several that Ace had robbed in the last few days.

Sirens were blaring across town. The sound didn’t bother Snake - he was used to it. But when they grew closer, he felt that tension in his chest begin to bloom. He started walking a little faster, eyeing the alleys and side-streets a little smarter. When he dipped into a dark, narrow walkway, he glanced behind him just in time to see a pair of police cruisers drive slowly around the corner.

He didn’t do anything. He didn’t do anything. He kept reminding himself that over and over, but it still didn’t stop him from feeling a wave of nausea bubble up inside of his gut. His heart was pounding, and that feeling only got worse when he reached the end of the alley and saw another pair of cars waiting for him on the other side.

They blocked the exit. They blocked the entrance. Snake looked from one side to the other, looking for another way out, just as one of the officers stepped forward with a hand hovering next to the baton on his hip. The gun wasn’t far away.

“Having a nice walk?” one of the officers asked, his partner standing behind him on alert. “Listen, you’re gonna get down on the ground and you’re gonna put your hands behind your back, got that? We don’t want to let this escalate.”

Shit. This wasn’t right. Snake backed up, dropping the box of beer in his hand and quickly dashing for a fire escape. As he began to run up the metal steps, one of the officers rushed after him in quick pursuit, shouting for him to stop and put his hands on his head. Snake didn’t listen. He knew he should have, but the alternative wasn’t going to do him any good. Long, skinny legs got him up three flights of stairs before he heard a second pair of steps join the first, following after him in a rush.

He heard an electric buzz before he felt anything. Then, all at once, a scorching pain hit the back of his leg and sent him falling forward face-first into the metal steps. His nose and forehead hit the surface with a horrible crack and he could taste blood running down his face from both nostrils.

A pair of rough hands grabbed hold of him and dragged him down the stairs until he was finally brought to his feet. Cuffs were snapped onto his wrists. Blinded by pain and dripping blood, Snake was marched down the fire escape and onto the pavement, staggering and trying unsuccessfully to shake the hands off of him as he was pushed into the back seat of a cop car.

Robbery, they said. The boy at the gas station recognized Snake’s sickly green-colored skin from a glimpse he saw beneath the mask of the criminal who had robbed him at gunpoint earlier that week. Distribution, they claimed…Well, that time, they had proof. Snake didn’t realize that one of the ‘teenagers’ he had sold a bag of xannies to was actually an undercover policeman wearing a body camera.

It was just his luck, really. As he sat bleeding in the back seat of the police cruiser, he thought about the events of the day that led him there. Everything was going so well. He made more money than he had seen in weeks. He got a kiss from someone he liked. He was forming a brand new confidence to say what he felt and make his boundaries known.

It figures that in the end, he still wouldn’t win. The poor fool never did.

#powerpuff girls #ppg #gangreen gang #ppg oc #powerpuff girls oc #fanfic #powerpuff girls fanfic #mafia au #content warning: language and drug use #snake #ace

16 notes · View notes

traumatas · 1 year

Text

Trigger Warning: Customer Service

Rating: Teen and Up Audience

Category: M/M

Relationship: Reigen Arataka/Serizawa Katsuya

Tags: Reigen Arataka, Serizawa Katsuya, Friends to Lovers, Character Development, Jealousy, Sexual Harrasment, All of it very lightly but it’s there, Protective Serizawa Katsuya, Slice of life, In a sense, Pining

AO3 Link

Summary:

“Of course we offer several options with multiple varying guarantees of success - exorcisms aren’t as straightforward as most people like to believe and need a lot of professional skill, mind you - and I am certain we will find something perfect for your needs.” Falling into his little spiel is easy enough now that he has a jumping off point, the words slipping past his lips almost naturally. Still, as he speaks he begins to notice Serizawa’s eyes on him and somehow he can’t help but want to squirm a little at how intense the other’s look feels. “Our most popular service is the 99% guaranteed exorcism. Lucky for you, we are currently offering a ten percent discount on it - for our first time customers only.”

He waves the pamphlet in front of the client’s face before eventually placing it in his hands. The perfectly stiff smile on his face doesn’t fall as the man’s eyes scan over it, Reigen waiting for a decision to be made.

---------------

Reigen likes to consider himself a master at dealing with all kinds of people. However, that doesn't mean that they don't drive him insane sometimes.

Reigen finds himself suppressing one sigh after another in favor of keeping on his perfectly crafted mask of professionalism. The sun has barely reached its highest point in the sky and lunch break has yet to pass - meaning, it is far too early for him to lose his patience with their clients.

For allegedly having spirit related issues, the young adult sitting on the chair in front of his desk seems surprisingly uninterested. Reigen has seen far too much of the gum the man is chewing and at this point he wants nothing more than to reach up to rub at his temples in annoyance.

Instead, his eyes move over their client once more and he briefly wonders how much longer he had to poke and question before he got any kind of useful information out of him.

When he had accepted this job over a quick phone call the person now sitting across from him had sounded rather serious. However, now that Reigen is trying to figure out anything substantial or useful, he wishes he had just refused - money for rent be damned.

“Do you know what kind of spirit you are haunted by?” The questions almost seem redundant at this point and keeping his voice neutral is taking more out of him than it should. He can’t deny that being able to keep the irritation out of his words might be his most impressive skill yet. Feigning interest, he leans forward and tries to pick up on any sign that he might be able to use to his advantage when it comes to making this client worth the time he is wasting on him.

Sadly, he is still out of luck because his question is answered with a mere shrug that perfectly mimics all the previous ones. Reigen wants nothing more than to throw up his hands in frustration and give up, but that is neither in line with his business practices nor a socially acceptable option. Firstly, he has a reputation to hold up and secondly, he needs to make sure to set an extra good example for Serizawa.

The ESPer stands next to him painfully ridgid. His fingers are flexing and unflexing in what Reigen assumes is an attempt to relieve some of the tension in his body, and every now and then it’s followed by a nervous twitch that he does his best to ignore.

He’s more than aware that the other is new to all of this and that simply cleaning up nicely would not help Serizawa to magically feel comfortable or confident around their clients. With how much time he had spent isolated, there’s still a lot he has to warm up to. Additionally, the environment in the office has to be vastly different from what he is used to and it’s even more reason for Reigen to want to get the other accustomed to it all. It is important for him to show Serizawa everything that he has to pay attention to in this line of work. After all, without Mob being able to stop by at his very call, it is essential that Reigen keeps the only ESPer willing to work for him from quitting - in the end, most of his income is rather reliant on having someone with psychic powers around.

The past few weeks he had done his very best to include Serizawa as much as possible and they had certainly made some progress. He had realized quickly how the other responds quite favorably to positive reinforcements and even if he is visibly anxious and never quite able to stop his fidgeting, he's nothing if not eager to learn.

So when Reigen had accepted this client's rather straightforward seeming request, he had planned to dare and involve the ESPer a little more than usual to help him build some confidence. This, however, is far from how this is supposed to go and for a moment Reigen wonders if he isn’t the one being cursed or haunted. Maybe it is worth it to check in with Dimple sometime soon.

“You truly do not know what kind of spirit, then? Where you could have acquired it, what you did to offend it or how long it has been haunting you. Is that correct?” One of Reigen’s hands shoots up to count along with his points, raising a finger for each of them, and he hopes that it doesn’t translate as impatiently as it feels.

Once more the man across from him seems to consider his answer and for the first time since coming through their door, he nods. Though, the simple motion is most certainly not as comforting as Reigen had hoped for and far from a good sign.

“Yes, that is correct.” The client confirms. “I didn’t want to believe it was a spirit at first, but you already said you can see its influence, haven’t you? So shouldn’t you know what kind it is?”

“Of course, of course.” Reigen’s extended hand begins to wave through the air, easily brushing aside any possible doubts their client might have. Out of the corner of his eye he can see how Serizawa shifts his weight from one leg to the other, hands now behind his back to allow himself to pull nervously at the fabric of his cuffs without being seen by anyone other than Reigen. “Serizawa, you can see it too. What do you think?”

Maybe it isn’t necessarily fair of him to push this onto the ESPer and he can’t help but feel a little guilty when he’s met with the other’s startled expression. To him there isn’t much of an option, however. When it comes to spinning stories along, he likes to consider himself quite good at bouncing back the information he gets with half truths and lies. Unfortunately, his wits are at an end when there’s little to nothing to work with. Without any insight or idea of the actual problem, his course of action is limited. So, while putting Serizawa on the spot like this doesn’t make him feel particularly great, there’s only so many things left for him to resort to. Desperate times call for desperate measures and he tries to soothe his conscience with the fact that it would be great practice for the other nonetheless.

“I uh- y-yes, Reigen, sir.” Serizawa stutters eventually, standing so straight now that it has to be uncomfortable. Reigen decides that he would have to buy the other some lunch as an apology - depending on how much money this job is going to get them. “It’s rather weak b-but I do think we should exorcize it sooner than later…. Reigen, sir.”

For a brief moment, his eyes meet the ESPer’s but the other isn’t able to stand their eye contact for very long, snapping his head back to their client. After a few seconds, that seems to be too much as well and Serizawa opts for a random spot on the wall instead.

“I suppose you’re correct.” Reigen agrees and snaps his fingers loud enough to make the man next to him jolt in surprise. He desperately hopes his praise does make up for it at least somewhat. While pushing some of the hair out of his face, he stands up and motions for their client to do the same. “Spirits are an urgent matter and we shouldn’t waste anymore time. If you truly do not remember where you might have gotten stuck with it or how, you will simply have to avoid all ominous or concerning places, including but not limited to cemeteries, parking garages, parks at night and corporate office buildings. All that, additionally to our exorcism services, of course.”

Once the both of them stand, he slips a paper off the surface of his cheap desk and holds it up to the man’s face with a large and bright smile.

“Of course we offer several options with multiple varying guarantees of success - exorcisms aren’t as straightforward as most people like to believe and need a lot of professional skill, mind you - and I am certain we will find something perfect for your needs.” Falling into his little spiel is easy enough now that he has a jumping off point, the words slipping past his lips almost naturally. Still, as he speaks he begins to notice Serizawa’s eyes on him and somehow he can’t help but want to squirm a little at how intense the other’s look feels. It makes him nervous enough for his hand to stop its gesturing for a split second. However, just a bit later, it continues to move along with his words again. “Our most popular service is the 99% guaranteed exorcism. Lucky for you, we are currently offering a ten percent discount on it - for our first time customers only.”

Everyone stands in silence for a good few moments and Reigen’s eyes dare to snap to Serizawa who looks rather uncomfortable in his position behind the desk. The fleeting thought that it might be his lies and act that made the ESPer feel that way crosses his mind and he prays to whatever is listening that that isn’t the case.

“If you have an option in mind but are unsure about how to finance it, we also accept multiple payments.” He elaborates, unable to stand the silence in the room much longer. Just to make sure, he follows it up with an encouraging nod to their client, pressing for an answer now. This is taking more of his energy than what he usually has to deal with and the indecisive silence is downright deafening to him. “So is there anything that looks like it would fit your needs?”

Reigen’s smile begins to fall when he sees the client's shoulders pull up in another dismissive shrug and he realizes that he would have to put much more effort into this than he had initially anticipated.

~♥~

After the incident at the Ibogami Hotsprings, Serizawa had opened up significantly. If Reigen looks at him now, it is plainly obvious just how nervous the ESPer had been around him previously

While Serizawa is still trying quite hard to impress and prove himself as a part of Spirits and Such, he doesn’t jump out of his shoes whenever he is addressed or asked for his opinion anymore. Instead of simply nodding along with whatever Reigen is suggesting, he seems to truly consider whether he agrees or not and as it turns out, he has some rather useful and interesting insights that have come in handy more than once.

Over time, Reigen found himself thoroughly enjoying Serizawa’s company and he had realized that the ESPer had not only begun to relax around him, but Reigen himself had started to feel progressively less and less pressured to pose as some type of role model and mentor.

Pretending and performing is what he is best at - however, being able to unwind a little between clients every now and then is a relief. Especially with someone he is considering a friend at this point. The air in the office had shifted to something different ever since they had started to treat each other more casually and neither of them seemed to want to go back to strictly professional after that.

The first time one of Reigen’s off hand and snarky remarks had made Serizawa break out in laughter, it had completely caught him off guard. The sound had been surprisingly warm and genuine, causing some of the objects on the ESPer’s desk to lift off the surface. Of course it had been a matter of seconds before Serizawa had profoundly apologized to him - unaware of how Reigen still had to recover from seeing the other’s face pulled into a large smile that made his stomach flip.

With every day that passes, working with Serizawa becomes easier and soon enough Reigen starts to invite him out for drinks after particularly stressful days. At first the other had politely refused, but Reigen is nothing if not persistent and had gotten him to agree eventually.

Even on their nights out, the ESPer is incredibly pleasant to be around - maybe a little reluctant still, but weighing in with his own experiences and thoughts to Reigen’s many and endless stories. His own never ending gesturing and talking had dominated the first few times, but soon enough he had started to listen intently to what Serizawa had to say and at this point he is unable to deny that he is looking forward to what the other is willing to share.

Slowly but steadily, Serizawa starts to think and act for himself and Reigen notices a feeling of pride swell in his chest at seeing the other open up - Pride and something else that he can’t quite put his finger on and would vehemently deny if anyone ever asked him about it.

In the end all he allows himself to say is that there’s a certain charm about Serizawa - and it affects not only him, but their clients as well.

While it is unintentional, there’s no doubt about how the ESPer seems to catch the eye of some of the people walking through their door.

Serizawa is a rather handsome man and with the gentle tone of his voice, his polite smiles and his nicely fitting suit, Reigen can’t really fault anyone for being interested. He feels a little smug about it and likes to hand himself at least some of the credit for giving the ESPer such an incredible makeover. Once the hair was cut and the beard was shaved, he had known almost immediately that the other would attract some attention - certainly not because something had clicked in Reigen at that moment, mind you.

Every now and then he wonders whether it would be worth it to print promotional posters with Serizawa's face on it. However one look at how flustered the ESPer gets whenever someone steps too close to him is enough to know that it wouldn’t be the smartest idea - for now, at least.

“- and you’re such a proper young man, you know.”

Of course - like everything good and fortunate in Reigen's life - even Serizawa’s looks have to come with a downside. Unsurprisingly, said downside takes the form of an elderly lady that keeps Serizawa anchored in a conversation that didn't seem to find an end. There seems to be something rather inviting about him that makes their older clients flock to him like moths to light and normally it results in a nice and pleasant little exchange. This time, though, it had turned into downright torture.

The woman’s problem had been rather simple. Essentially nothing more than a barely cursed picture frame that caused the curtains in her home to randomly shut at times. It had neither been dangerous nor life threatening and with the ESPer’s help the actual exorcism had barely taken a minute. However, she is somehow still in the office almost half an hour later, keeping Serizawa hostage right where he stands.

His smile is frozen on his face and he keeps nodding along rather stiffly, his eyes showing just how exhausted he is from the conversation at this point. It isn’t as if he - or Reigen for that matter - isn’t trying, but it seems that their client is quite adamant about wanting to continue her one sided interaction with him as long as possible.

“My granddaughter’s fiance is nothing like that.” Her picture frame tightly clutched to her chest, she sighs deeply. The boney fingers of her hand gently rub over the worn looking corners and pick at a small splinter. “Ever since she met him she is not visiting me anymore. Can you believe that? You know, I’m sure it is her mother that did not teach her to respect and care for the elders in the family. My son should have never married her, if you ask me.”

“Th-that’s a shame.” Serizawa answers with his eyebrows knitting and his smile growing a little softer in an act of compassion. The gesture is nice, but it only encourages more words to spill from her mouth instead of cutting the conversation right there. Even if Reigen had been excluded from the beginning on, it is grinding at him unbearably so. In annoyance and disinterest, his eyes shoot up to the clock hanging on the wall and they widen the moment he realizes just how late it is. Suddenly, he is reminded of their next actually scheduled client. They were both expected to arrive within the next hour and considering how long it would take them to get there by public transport, that is a rather ambitious goal.

“Crap-” He curses without thinking about it and only when the woman finally pays him attention to give him a deeply disapproving glance he notices how loud his outburst must have been. Almost immediately his smile returns and sweat begins to build on his forehead. “I-I mean. Yes. It truly is a shame. Young people these days can be rather disrespectful, can they not?”

It’s an attempt at covering up his swearing mishap and if the harsh and judgemental look he receives is anything to go by, it is not a successful one. Even so, it doesn't change the fact that they had to find a way to make her pay and leave as quickly as possible. Their next appointment marks the start of a rather tightly packed schedule and they did not have the time for idle chit chat with some old woman. Being patient is important in any professional setting, but so is getting things done.

“They can be.” The answer is slightly sharper than what Reigen expects from her and it makes him swallow down a lump in his throat together with the annoyance that begins to bubble in his chest. Her wrinkled features are twisted in displeasure and her idle smile only returns when she looks back at Serizawa. Said ESPer gives Reigen an apologetic and lost look. “Now you - Serizawa, was it, yes? - You seem like a fine upstanding man. I wish we had someone like you in our family. You remind me of my own husband when he was still alive. “

By the way Serizawa’s eyes widen, it is obvious that he doesn’t know how to respond and instead he reaches up to fidget with the collar of his button up. Absent-mindedly, he nods and without batting an eye she goes on with her story. Either she is unable to read the room or simply chooses not to and neither scenario is much of a comfort to Reigen. From where he stands he can see how Serizawa's adam’s apple bops when a hand with thin fingers gently reaches out to pat at his arm. The old woman is pushing them into a spot tighter and tighter, but Reigen wouldn’t be Reigen if he were to give up on this so easily. He often prides himself in being an expert in wiggling his way out of tricky situations and he promises himself and the ESPer that he would not disappoint this time.

Right before she opens her mouth again, Reigen takes a step closer, hoping to interrupt her and help Serizawa out. One of his hands finds its way to the other's back to hit it with a playful slap and he puts on the politest smile he can muster. “I have to agree. Everyone would want to. I’m quite fortunate to have someone as skilled and incredible as Serizawa here with me and-”

“Yes, yes. I am sure you are, but we are having a conversation here as you can see.”

He had not expected to be dismissed so easily. It isn’t often that Reigen finds himself stunned and at a loss for words, but the boldness of the old woman is certainly taking him by surprise. Usually, agreeing with a client works wonders when it comes to stirring them in a different direction, but this woman seems to be far more stubborn and rude than Reigen had given her credit for. “Now Serizawa, you wouldn't leave your poor, poor grandmother alone, would you? Unlike some other young men you are so considerate and talented as well.”

He can feel his eyebrow twitch in irritation at her jab and he blinks a few times, needing to recollect himself. She cares incredibly little though, her attention solely on Serizawa.

“My cat was also such a pleasant little guy, but he passed away recently. It’s been so lonely at home ever since. Especially with no one paying me a visit anymore.” Her hand never stops her assault on the ESPer’s arm and he does begin to look increasingly uncomfortable.

“I-I’m sorry. Losing a pet must be… hard?” It’s obvious that he is out of his element and he dares to look at Reigen once more. When their eyes meet, the look behind them is desperate - almost begging him to help. If this were any other day, Reigen would have considered this good practice for Serizawa, but with each second that ticks by more and more of their precious time slips away from them. He is flooded with a sense of urgency not only for their next client, but also for the ESPer's sake.

Slowly, his hand slips off of the other’s back and he opens his mouth, prepared to finally ask the woman to pay and leave their office.

“Ma’am-”

“-and you see whenever he jumped onto my bed, he’d meow at me and-”

Once again his attempt to interrupt is shot down immediately by her voice rising over his at an almost uncomfortable volume. It makes the rest of his words die in his throat at the audacity the action holds. He decides then and there that he would rather be faced with multiple cockroaches than this one woman - maybe. When Serizawa realizes that even Reigen is unable to break through her determination, his usual friendly demeanor and brave openness to chat with their clients is completely replaced by an anxious expression he hadn't worn in a while.

“-my granddaughter actually loved to chase him around our backyard! Would you believe that? We would-”

At this point, Reigen can’t fault Serizawa for being trapped by her, because he feels equally at a loss on how to stop her. His skill at convincing people is reliant on them listening to him and all of his previous confidence is out the window by how aggressively she is about ignoring him.

When it had been just him and Mob, clients usually didn’t wish to stick around longer than necessary and even the rather chatty ones would leave them alone within a few minutes or so. He had never truly witnessed someone who seemed to make it their whole purpose in life to waste his time specifically and he finds himself missing the quiet loneliness of the train to Ibogami all of the sudden.

There’s truly nothing he wants to do more than push the lady along, but he knows better than to make himself known as the business being rude to the elderly - not a smart move if a large part of your income is dependent on superstitious old people.

So instead, he helplessly watches her step even closer into Serizawa’s personal space to continue her rambling about this and that and with a heavy heart filled with disbelief, Reigen has to admit defeat this time. One of his hands rubs over his face and he uses it to slap the ESPer on the back once more afterwards, earning a conflicted and confused expression that makes his chest twist a little.

“Serizawa, you can take it from here, yes?” He asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer before he reaches deep into the pockets of his suit pants, pulling out his phone and flipping it open in the process. Unrelenting, the hands on the clock keep moving and at this point he knows there’s no way they’ll make it in time. “I’ll have a few phone calls to make, so if you’ll excuse me.”

As he steps away, he gives Serizawa a last apologetic look. His hand moves to give the other an encouraging thumbs up and he mouths an apology, praying that he would be able to pull through just a little longer.

~♥~

Considering his line of work, danger isn’t something Reigen is unfamiliar with. By running a business that deals with a variety of evil spirits and curses, there is a rather high chance to get scraped and bruised every now and then.

At this point, Serizawa isn’t necessarily shy about telling him that he needs to be more careful, scolding Reigen more often than not whenever he gets himself into danger without thinking - which happens more often than he'd like to admit. What bothers him most, however, is that there’s always a barely hidden distress in the ESPer’s voice.

The first time he had pulled Reigen aside after one of their jobs, he had looked so serious that Reigen’s chest had tightened almost painfully.

He can’t help the anxiety that spreads in his gut whenever Serizawa sees the need to remind him that he had promised to be more careful on multiple occasions and at this point Reigen has run out of barely believable excuses to reassure him. Without fail he would see Serizawa’s eyes wander over him to check for any sign of injury and it allows an unfamiliar warmth to sneak its way into his heart. It’s odd for Reigen to know that someone cares enough about him to see the need to be upset at his own stupidity. Conflicting is probably the best way to describe the feelings swirling in his chest whenever he catches a glimpse of the ESPer’s disappointed expression.

On one hand, he feels ashamed about causing Serizawa so much trouble, but on the other - and he doesn’t dare to dwell on it too long - there’s an almost overwhelming pang of happiness at having someone around him that wants to make sure he stays unharmed. With the way Serizawa looks at him, scolds him and tries to keep him out of harm’s way almost frantically, Reigen indulges in the sensation of feeling taken care off. It satisfies him in a way he can't explain and while the happiness he feels is accompanied by a sizable amount of guilt, he still allows himself to revel in the other's caring but short touches. Having someone right at his side that he feels comfortable with, causes him to feel content in a way that he has a hard time accepting.

Still, it doesn’t change Reigen is used to the dangers that come with the job at this point - that is, if they are of the evil spirit or falling-apart-building kind. He’s rather unfamiliar with hostility from people, as long as said people are not part of a terrorist organization. It’s not as if clients never yell at him, call him a fraud or throw a fit, but most of the time he manages to smoothly talk his way out of any risky situation with impressive ease and a good chunk of luck. Almost everyone that storms through the doors of Spirits and Such in a fit of anger is usually pretty easy to handle. It’s no secret to Reigen that he has a knack for stumbling his way through conversations without clients necessarily realizing what he’s doing. With a business such as his, it is most certainly an essential part of how it functions.

Even before he had decided to dabble into independence, dealing with an angry and furious client is nothing he would have considered new to him. His way with words and his ability to deflect every accusation thrown at him had gotten him pretty far.

However, that did not mean that he never found himself confronted with people he couldn't get a grip on.

“Sir, please. I understand that you’re upset, but I promise you that all of our exorcism oils are one hundred percent authentic and-”

“Oh shut up!” A loud slap on the surface of Reigen’s desk accompanies the client’s booming voice and it makes him jump out of his chair a little. At the other end of the room, Serizawa looks equally startled. He is still drying his hands and if Reigen had known how quickly this would escalate, he would have not asked the ESPer to handle this particular massage on his own. “No way in hell this was an exorcism! What kind of stupid fraudulent place is this? Should have known all those reviews were fucking fake-”

“Now, now. No need to get this…. aggravated.” Reigen dares to interrupt their client, careful about his choice of words. Reluctantly, he stands up from his chair to get a little closer. His hands feel clammy and the man’s face is colored in a deep and maddened red, trembling with anger. There’s no doubt that he would rather avoid this from getting any more out of hand and as confidently as he can he smiles at the client, ignoring the cold sweat that builds on the back of his neck. “I assure you my associate is more than qualified and physical exorcisms are just an advanced form that take a long time to master, you see.”

“Physical fucking exorcism, my ass! Listen up you asshole, I don’t buy it.” The man takes a few steps forward, his eyes now narrowing in on him. “Like some backrub will get rid of being possessed!”

“But you are feeling better, do you not?” The room suddenly feels much heavier. There’s a pressure in the air that Reigen is unfamiliar with and for a second he wonders if this man truly is possessed after all. However, he opts to trust Serizawa’s earlier judgment of him not being affected by any type of spirit whatsoever, rather than his own instinct. He does prefer to leave the ESPer work to the actual ESPer - which means he had more or less assigned himself the talking portion of this particular job. Though, as it turns out it is much trickier than it would be on their average day.

Suddenly, the man in front of him grabs him by the collar and pulls him closer. The tug on his shirt is painful and causes fabric to dig uncomfortably in the back of his neck. Almost immediately, his body responds. His heart beats rapidly and his hands shoot up to feign innocence, his smile has lost a good part of its fake confidence and he prays that the man wouldn’t notice how nervous he is at this point.

“Listen, Sir. There’s- there’s no need to do anything anyone might regret. I am sure we will be able to resolve this without the need of any of this?” His hands gesture widely now and eventually end up on the client’s arm to carefully push at it in an attempt to get some space. The action quickly backfires and causes the hand around his shirt to tighten even more. Reigen swallows roughly and as unbelievable as it may seem, dealing with the 7th division had been far less nerve wrecking.

“I don’t know who you fucking think you are-” At this point, the excessive use of swears is certainly getting old, but Reigen has far more important things to worry about. “- but don’t you think I’ll let you scam anyone else out of their hard earned money.”

With how much force he is pushed backwards, he is sure that his body is about to hit his desk rather harshly. Out of instinct, his eyes screw shut and he expects the unavoidable impact. However, there’s neither a large crash nor any sharp pains or aches to complain about and once he realizes there would be none at all, one of his eyes opens hesitantly.

Instead of on the ground, he finds himself with a steady and large hand on his back that digs into the fabric of his suit to keep him upright.

The pressure and stuffy feeling of the air makes a shocking amount of sense now. While he can not see Serizawa’s aura, it is rather obvious that it must be his powers spreading into every nook and cranny of the office. With how the tips of the ESPer’s hair are floating and with how his hand is wrapped around their clients wrist tightly enough to make his knuckles turn white, it is plain to see that Serizawa is angry. Angrier than Reigen has ever seen him for a fact.

Saying that he feels fortunate to not be on the receiving end of the furious stare on the ESPer’s face is an understatement. Reigen has never considered Serizawa particularly scary looking and to him he’d been nothing if not great company. His bright smiles never fail to make him feel something he probably shouldn’t and his incredible kindness and interest had only made Reigen realize how much he had needed another adult to consider his friend.

Now, however, Serizawa looks downright terrifying, his eyes filled with an intensity that would make everyone’s blood chill in a moment - with the exception of Reigen, of course, who has to deal with a sudden burst of emotion including but not limited to awe and amazement. Still, he dares to tear his eyes away from the ESPer in favor of looking back at their client. His previous anger is replaced by fear and for a moment Reigen worries that Serizawa grip would tighten further. There’s no doubt that it would be followed by a most likely sickening crack if he did.

Not wishing for any lawyer costs, Reigen’s own hand moves to carefully and gently push at Serizawa’s shoulder. Trying to not be too loud, he clears his throat.

“Serizawa-”

“Sir. I think it’s time for you to pay and leave.” When he speaks, none of the usual warm kindness or determined enthusiasm is left in Serizawa’s voice and his tone is dangerously low. The pencil holder on Reigen’s desk begins to rattle slightly and he realizes that the ESPer is doing a rather incredible job at holding back his powers despite everything. Even so, he is suddenly aware that to him there’s no reason to worry about it either way. It hits him like a ton of bricks, but he realizes right then and there how safe he feels with Serizawa this close and how oddly comforted he is by the steady pressure on his back.

With his voice now lost, their client nods after a moment of silence. He’s shaking now, eyes blown wide and shrinking under Serizawa’s stare. Not only the man’s but Reigen’s attention as well returns solemnly to the ESPer. Though, he has the sneaking suspicion that his own reasons for starring are vastly different from their client’s - that is, if his extra clammy hands and the warm feeling in his stomach are anything to go by.

One of the drawers of his desk creaks concerningly when the sheer force of Serizawa’s powers pulls it open. The hand on his back lets go almost hesitantly and the ESPer roughly drops the wrist in his grasp to pluck the in-office wallet that is floating closer out of the air.

Considering the previous attitude of their client and his insistence of not wanting to spend a single yen on them, he seems rather eager to pay now. There’s a significant amount of fumbling with change and in the end Serizawa ends up with a bunch of extra bills and coins being shoved into his hand.

With his metaphorical tail now tucked between his legs, the man bows deeply before turning on his heels and the door to the office falls into its lock behind him rather loudly. In the now silent room, Reigen can hear just how heavy Serizawa is breathing. There’s a few angry intakes of air, but eventually the pressure in around them gradually dissipates and the other’s breath evens out.

Reigen’s own heart is still pounding violently in his chest and finds himself wanting to reach out. For now, he hesitates, though, unsure about what the ESPer needs right now. Instead it slowly dawns to him that the reason Serizawa had reacted this strongly is most likely because Reigen had gotten himself into trouble once more and he can’t help and curse himself silently for causing the other to lose some of the composure he had worked so hard on. Whatever he has felt up till now is replaced with shame, but Serizawa doesn’t give Reigen time to beat himself up even further when he turns to face him more properly.

For a split second Reigen is prepared to be scolded for being reckless and irresponsible. Yet, when their eyes meet, Serizawa’s face is no longer twisted in anger. His eyebrows are knitted now and the crease between them is deep with concern. The hand that had wrapped around their client’s wrist in a death grip is incredibly gentle when it lands on Reigen’s upper arm.

“I-I’m so sorry.” Serizawa’s panicked tone catches him a little off guard just as much as the sudden proximity of the ESPer when he steps a little closer. For a moment, his lips are pressed into a tight line and his eyes jump over Reigen’s features, causing his heart to skip a beat. When Serizawa continues to speak, his voice is filled with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to be- to lose control like that.”

His expression changes rapidly and he shakes his head as if to take back his words, not quite allowing Reigen to open his mouth to respond just yet.

“Are you okay, Reigen? He didn’t hurt you did he?” Within an instance, he brings distance between them again, his second hand moving to rest on Reigen’s other arm. He doesn’t catch on immediately, but Serizawa is obviously waiting for an answer now.

“I-I’m okay-!” He says, sounding so out of it that he follows it up with an embarrassed laugh. The other’s worry is suddenly far too overwhelming and needs to take a step back. With how much warmth Serizawa’s simple touch makes him feel, he can’t help but feel a completely different kind of worry that makes itself known. “All- all fine as you can see. Still in one piece, unharmed. Splendid, really.”

As if to emphasize his point, he gestures at himself from head to toe. Even if his smile isn’t necessarily genuine, he still tries to look up at Serizawa reassuringly. However, one look at the ESPer lets him know that he can tell that Reigen isn’t unscathed by the encounter - though, he truly hopes that Serizawa doesn’t know what exactly is bothering him.

“Are you... sure?”

“Yes.” The answer comes so quick that it is barely believable. Reigen is unable to face the other any longer and he turns around to run a hand through his hair, taking the chance to wipe over his forehead while he’s at it. “Not the first time I had to deal with a complicated client.”

Once again he clears his throat and he dares to turn back again, Serizawa’s hands now nervously playing with each other in front of his chest. It’s plainly obvious that he isn’t satisfied and is considering how to ask his next question. Reigen, however, doesn’t want to give him the opportunity to dig deeper, scared that he might reveal too much of what he’s feeling right now.

Before anything more can be asked, he adds, “Thank you.” There’s a second in which he hesitates, his fingers flexing and unflexing much like Serizawa’s often did. Eventually, though, he reaches out to gently slap the ESPer’s arm. “Saved the day once again, did you? Great job.”

A small laugh escapes his throat and he knows that it’s not necessarily making anything better. He reaches into his pockets afterwards and pulls out his key to jingle it in front of Serizawa’s face, not wanting to give the other a chance to think about his words or behavior all too much.

“I think we should close up a little earlier today. I’m certainly ready for a drink or two.” He licks his lips and finds himself asking something he might be regretting later on. “Want to tag along?”

~♥~

“No, it was over there! How would you even know where it was when you’re barely home?”

“Because I definitely saw it there! Our daughter said so as well. You might call me a liar, but you should at least believe her!”

“She’s seven! How would she even know know what she is-”

Even long before opening Spirits and Such, Reigen had experienced just how exhausting most clients could be. However, the kind he has to deal with these days are oftentimes much more eccentric than your run of the mill housewife or fellow business man. They range from old people taking advice from their know-it-all children, over groups of friends all the way to his least favorite category: bickering couples.

A single person usually is able to explain their problem rather well but when it comes to people that are dating - or married for that matter - they always seem concerningly out of sync with one another. It’s either that one of them falls into Reigen’s net of sweet talk and half truths while the other is much harder to convince, or they simply can not decide on who’s version of the problem is the correct one.

Worst of all, those aren’t even the biggest issue Reigen has with them these days. What bothers him most is that, even with all their bickering and complaining, they do nothing but remind him of how single and pathetic he is himself - and of course his helpless and ever deeper growing crush on the man standing right next to him.

Almost a little cautiously, Reigen allows himself to look up at Serizawa. The ESPer looks just as much at a loss as him and listens to their clients' exchange with a deep frown. His arms are crossed and his fingers drum nervously on his upper arm that Reigen is focusing on for a moment longer than is appropriate. Only when Serizawa looks back at him does he notice his own staring and he hopes his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. To his relief, the other doesn’t seem to have caught it.

“Arataka, should we…” Serizawa’s sentence stays unfinished and it doesn’t seem like he had known what he wanted to ask in the first place. Reigen understands his sentiment. Dealing with people that are actively fighting without much care for who’s witnessing them isn’t his favorite thing to do, but sometimes their line of work requires to get involved with things he’d rather leave alone.

In response to Serizawa’s unfinished question, he waves his hand and leans a little closer. His voice is only loud enough for the ESPer to hear, though, he doubts either of their clients would have listened to him anyways. “Leave it to me.”

Breaking up disagreements is not far up on the list of his preferred parts of the job. It takes expertise and care to not accidentally make things escalate any further and most of the time it is best to simply let one of them tire themselves out and give in. However, with how this one is going, Reigen isn’t certain that either of them would be able to let go of their pride any time soon.

“You didn’t even want to hire anyone in the first place!” The wife huffs and her arms are crossed tightly over her chest, her foot angrily tapping on the floorboards. Eventually, one of her arms unlocks and she points right at Reigen. “If it weren’t for me we wouldn’t even have anyone here at all and now you’re just wasting their time!”

With their presence now acknowledged, he sees the perfect chance to interrupt, “There’s no reason to worry. We at Spirits and Such know just how to-”

“Oh is that so? Well who is going to pay for this service then? You?”

The utterly offended gasp that fills the room is everything but a good sign and the rhythmic tapping of her foot stops with a rather loud stomp. In response she earns a glare and a cock of her husband’s head. In Reigen’s opinion, this is getting rather ridiculous and he realizes that this situation requires a gentler hand than he had initially anticipated.

“Actually, there’s no need to worry about the payment. I am sure we can figure something out that will sit right with the both of you.” This seems to grab the couple's attention and Reigen finally feels confident that he can turn this around - as long as one of them would be willing to listen to him. A large smile spreads on his face and his hand accompanies his words effortlessly from there on. “First and foremost we are here to prioritize any and all of your otherworldly problems.”

The husband sighs at his words. “I apologize. This isn’t about payment. We certainly do have the money.” There’s a sense of relief that floods Reigen and with how Serizawa straightens next to him, he must be feeling the same. Finally, it feels like the end of their headache might be getting closer. However, both of them have to face the harsh reality a few seconds later. “This is actually about how my own wife doesn’t believe me when I say, that-”

Within a split second, they resume their arguing as if Reigen had never intervened in the first place. His expression must have been quite miserable, because the ESPer slides up next to him to gently bump his elbow against Reigen’s arm. It’s obvious that it’s supposed to be a gesture of comfort and while he appreciates it, he knows for a fact that Serizawa is much more uncomfortable than him. The ESPer is familiar with the ups and downs of the job at this point, but there’s still a lot he doesn’t know how to deal with and feels more comfortable with Reigen handling. Knowing that quite well, Reigen gives him a questioning and partly worried glance, silently asking if he’s still okay.

Though, one proper look at Serizawa is enough to figure the answer out himself. The discomfort is almost radiating off of him and he finally gives Reigen an uncertain shrug that turns into a small shake of his head. It fills Reigen’s chest with a sense of accomplishment to know that the other trusts him enough to let him know about how unsure he is feeling with all of this.

“Well, it’s not my fault that you constantly have to deal with that!” At this point, the argument is completely irrational and it makes the ESPer’s face contort in a way that doesn’t sit right with Reigen. It makes his chest feel tighter and in an attempt to lighten the other’s mood he bumps him back a little, hoping the gesture brings him some kind of relief. When he has Serizawa’s attention on him, he moves his hand to signal the ESPer to lean down.

“How about you go and check if there actually is a problem, Katsuya.” Reigen says, his voice lowered. It is less of a suggestion and more of an opportunity for Serizawa to excuse himself. His own eyes drift back to their clients and it makes him click his tongue, one of his hands moving to rub the bridge of his nose. Whatever these two were arguing about is something that had to be bubbling under the surface for a long time and he wonders if he should start adding disclaimers about scenarios like this in the fine print of their pamphlets. “Meanwhile, I’ll make sure to babysit.”

Serizawa’s shoulders relax a little and one of his hands finds their way to Reigen’s shoulder. His smile melts into something so genuine that it makes Reigen’s heart hammer against his ribcage and the sudden squeeze of his shoulder makes it skip a beat. Before he has the time to get too lost in the touch and expression of the other, he reminds himself that there’s still clients to deal with. He has all the time in the world to pine and lament about Serizawa once he is back home. Right now it is more important to have the ESPer’s back and to get the job done.

“Thank you.” Serizawa says, his voice filled with relief. Reigen can’t help but to return the other’s smile with one of his own, all of his annoyance making way for something different almost in an instant. The warm hand gets removed from his shoulder and Serizawa gives him a determined nod. “I’ll try to be as fast as possible.”

“Good luck.” One of Reigen’s hands waves through the air a little while his other digs deep into the pockets of his suit pants. He gives the ESPer another once over, his cheeks heating up yet again. “And call if you find or need anything, yeah?”

A soft and sweet laugh escapes Serizawa and he gives Reigen a playful salute in agreement. “Same goes to you.” Though, he looks a little more serious right after, his voice a little quieter now. “Especially if things escalate.”

“Don’t worry, I think I can handle this.” Reigen mumbles reassuringly and the ESPer seems to judge his words for a moment before deciding to believe him - for now at least.

Without wasting another second, Serizawa politely excuses himself even if nobody but Reigen is listening to him. He gives him one nod before slipping out of the room and Reigen realizes that it’s time to pull his part of the weight now. Whatever the couple is fighting about at this point, is beyond him and he braces himself for the inevitable headache. All that’s left for him is to do his best and de-escalate the situation with as much finesse as he can while Serizawa finds the root of the problem.

Fortunately for Reigen, his pleas seem to be heard, because the ESPer manages to track down and locate the spirit quite quickly. Considering how much chaos it seems to have caused for these people, it’s no surprise that it’s a rather feisty one. It slips through the house with trained ease and gives them somewhat of a difficult time, but sooner than originally anticipated, they find themselves back in the small rental car on their way home.

Despite finally nearing the end of the day, Reigen can’t deny that he feels incredibly stressed out at this point. He’s glad to finally be out of that place. The constant arguing had never truly stopped and if it were not for Serizawa’s presence he would be completely frazzled. It’s comforting to know that the ESPer is right there with him and at this point he wouldn’t know what to do without him. The thought that the other might leave one day had struck him before but every time he had pushed the idea into the very back of his mind to confront it another time that would probably never come.

For now, he has to be thankful for having the other at his side and every little bit of self doubt that tries to force its way up is ignored in favor of concentrating on the comfortable silence between them. The sound of the motor is all that fills the space between them, Reigen having gone as far as to turn the radio off to have a moment of peace.

The quiet is interrupted only when Serizawa decides to speak up after a heavy sigh

“I really hope they won’t ask for compensation for the cupboard I broke.” There’s honest concern in his voice and for a split second, Reigen’s eyes shift from the street towards the ESPer. His cheek is resting against his palm and his gaze is fixated on the road, while his free hand is casually drumming on the fabric of his pants, only stopping to play with ironed in fold every now and then. “Or any of the possible water damage to the walls.”

His lips turn up into a small smile then and with the evening sun hitting him through the window of the car, Reigen can’t help but admire how beautiful he is. When he finds himself getting lost in how nice Serizawa’s hair looks now that it’s a little grown out and with the curls returning, he finally forces his eyes back on the road. There were better times to admire the other in secret and most certainly better places than the middle of the street, even if there is a surprising lack of traffic.

“I don’t think they will.” Reigen says with a shrug, his fingers tightening around the tacky plush covering on the steering wheel as he speaks. The texture of it is absolutely disgusting. “They might have completely different things to figure out than broken fixtures. Really, I was losing my mind. How can two people who fight like that even be together for that long - and have a daughter! I’m glad she didn’t have to witness that disaster. ”

One of his hands moves to emphasize his point, but he quickly forces it back down when he notices the car drift too close to the side of the street. Talking reminds him of how he’s exhausted not only mentally, but physically as well. It isn’t often that he’s left this drained after a job and he’s quite glad that there isn’t any other waiting for them today. He’s only slightly invigorated when the idea of asking Serizawa to grab some dinner strikes him. Maybe if the other still felt up for it, they would be able to spend the rest of their evening together and there’s no doubt that it would be filled with countless complaints about their clients.

“There’s nothing worse than to spend that much time of your life with someone you only disagree with. Having a fight is one thing, don’t get me wrong, but this was ridiculous. I mean, shouldn’t a partner be someone that actually enjoys being around you?” Reigen can’t help the amusement in his voice and now that he’s able to talk about it a little more freely, he goes on without thinking. “Kinda like us, right? We spend all our time together, basically, and I’d say we are doing much better. Actually, I’m really glad we aren’t fighting like that, Katsuya.”

Instead of receiving a response, Reigen is met with another short stretch of silence that is long enough to make him realize how strange his statement must have sounded. The wave of embarrassment that hits him also fills him with anxiety. Suddenly, he wonders if that little mishap is enough for the other to see right through him.

“I mean- I didn’t want to imply that we were together like that. A-a couple or married or anything.” One of his hands leaves the steering wheel once more to move through the air wildly in an attempt to distract from how flustered he is. The plush of the wheel cover comes in quite handy as he absent-mindedly begins to wipe his other hand on it to get rid of some of the clamminess. “I just mean in the office as coworkers. N-no, as friends, obviously-”

With his body switching to autopilot almost immediately, Reigen loses focus of his driving and without him noticing the car slowly begins to swerve dangerously close towards the middle of the street and to the other lane.

“Arataka-”

“I didn’t mean to imply anything or make you uncomfortable, we are strictly professional-” No, that isn’t right either. “Friends. Professional friends and-”

“Arataka, eyes on the road!” The volume and panic of Serizawa’s voice makes Reigen’s attention snap back to the road immediately and once he realizes what is happening, his free hand shoots back to the steering wheel. Maybe a little rougher than is needed, he pulls the car back to where it should be, breath a little heavier now, knuckles white with how tightly they hold on.

“Sorry. I just-” He laughs nervously, hunching closer to the windshield now than necessary and forces himself to focus forward almost obsessively. Partially for their safety and partially because he can’t bring himself to look at Serizawa right now. “Just meant to say I’m glad we are on the same page.”

“I know.” The ESPer sounds equally out of breath and strained, his body shifting to sit up straighter now. It takes some moments of Reigen keeping the car where it’s supposed to be for him to relax again. Though, he doesn’t sink back into the seat the same way. Serizawa takes a deep breath before he speaks again, obviously trying to sound as casual as possible. “I’m glad too, but- how about we stop talking for a little while?”

~♥~

There’s nothing more rewarding than a job well done. Not only does it fill Reigen with a sense of having done something good - at least when an actual spirit has been involved - but the rest of his afternoon is much more rewarding when it feels earned. At the end of the day, he always looks forward to being able to unwind.

A small and genuine smile tugs on his lips and he looks over to Serizawa, who’s standing a little ways away with their last client of the day. The old woman is fumbling with her wallet while the ESPer is busy writing her a receipt for the job. At this point, he is running Spirits and Such as much as Reigen does and it’s something that he had never thought possible when a fumbling and nervous Serizawa had accepted the offer to work for him. Even when he had started to entrust the other with more and more tasks, Reigen still hadn’t expected him to stay for very long. He has a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that the ESPer had no intention to leave and admittedly, thinking about it too long makes it seem too good to be true. Serizawa makes an incredible effort to let him know that he isn’t going anywhere, though.

After all, they weren’t only coworkers anymore and neither were they just friends. A bold moment of weakness was all it had taken Serizawa to cross the line they were tip-toeing around and it still makes Reigen’s heart race to think about what they were now. Just a few months ago it had seemed impossible and ridiculous for him to even hope that the other returned his feelings and to now know that he truly does is a realization that keeps overwhelming him every time.

The giddiness and excitement spreading through him as he considers what they would get for dinner tonight feels almost childish and yet, Reigen allows himself to simply enjoy it without doubt just this once. With neither of them having much planned this weekend, he tells himself that there might be enough time to indulge in Serizawa a little without listening to the voice in his head that still tries to convince him that this wouldn’t last. There are more than enough things he can think of that would most certainly distract him and each makes him more eager to get back to one of their homes than the last. Truly, if anyone had asked him what he had thought his future would look like, he would have not in a million years expected that he would run a somewhat questionable exorcism business with his psychic boyfriend. Now that he has it, though, there’s nothing he wants to change.

“You did a pretty impressive job today.”

His little moment of watching Serizawa help the woman count her change is interrupted by her son. He was about their age - maybe a year or so younger than Reigen - and had been around for most of the day. He had assumed that it was to make sure they weren’t trying to scam her, but now that it had come to actually collecting the payment, he had slid up next to him instead of keeping a close eye on his mother.

“Thank you. We at Spirits and Such are always here for any of your needs concerning hauntings, possessions and the like.” Reigen says and it’s accompanied by a confident snap of his fingers. He reaches inside of his suit jacket, pulling out one of his business cards to hand over. It’s never too late for a little bit of self advertisement and if he had learned anything over the past few years it’s that one haunted family member usually resulted in a few more. “If you - or any of your acquaintances for that matter - are ever in need of any of our services, do not hesitate to give us a call. We pride ourselves in being flexible to your every need, though, short term out of office appointments do come with a fifteen percent price increase.”

The man looks down at the business card, turning it over in his hand a little. When his head pulls up again, he gives him a look.“Oh is that so?” Something about the dip and infliction in his voice makes Reigen shift where he stands and he starts to play a little with the cuff of his sleeve. There's something about the tone that strikes him as strange. He’s heard people trying to be sleazy before, and something about this is far too similar. “I’ll certainly keep that in mind. It’s not bad to have someone skilled and smart like you around in an emergency, is it?”

“Well- y-yes of course. Mind you, our services are for issues of the supernatural kind only. They come in a large variety from in-office physical exorcisms to on-site operations. However, we will gladly refer you to places that fit your needs in case your problems are not related to anything spiritual.” As he talks, he feels the other’s eyes roam over him from head to toe. The response he gets is a short intrigued humm and he doesn’t like the way he’s being watched. A smile tugs at the man’s lips and Reigen can’t help the way his eyebrows knit in confusion when he sees him pull a pen from one of his pockets. There’s a moment in which he scribbles something on the card and just a few seconds later he steps quite far into Reigen’s personal space to hand him back the little piece of cardstock.

Out of reflex and in hopes of the man stepping away after, he takes it and squints at the series of numbers messily added under the office’s contact info. A phone number, Reigen realizes.

“I’m sure physical exorcisms aren’t the only thing you’re good at - especially not with that amount of energy you have. I’m rather interested in those flexible services you mentioned.” Reigen’s head snaps back up from the business card and he notices just how close they were now. When the man has the audacity to wink at him, he allows himself to take a step back as politely as he can. While he is used to being the center of attention, he prefers it being of the professional variety rather than the personal. Blatant flirting isn’t something he’s familiar with and while at some point he might have been desperate enough, he can’t say he is now.

At an arm’s length, he holds out the card to return it and clears his throat.

“I … apologize for the misunderstanding, but my business is not the type to give you a hand in such things.” It’s a horrible choice of words on his part, but with how tense and sick he suddenly feels there’s no time to reconsider them. His free hand flies through the space between them dismissively and he hopes that is enough for the other to get a clue. At this point his forced smile grows painful and the smirk he gets in response makes anxiety curl in his gut.

Throughout the day, there had been a few rather impressed whistles and huffs that Reigen had assumed were meant for the flawless job Serizawa was doing. Now, however, he’s certain that if he had paid even an ounce of attention, he would have realized that they were most certainly not aimed towards any display of psychic powers. It takes him a sizable amount of willpower not to shudder in disgust and to keep up the professionalism. All he has to do is decline the other’s intrusive offer and move on with the rest of his day as planned. Though, it doesn’t seem to be as easy as that - it rarely is in Reigen’s case.

“Oh no. I think you’re misunderstanding my intentions.” He most certainly isn’t with how clear the other’s intentions are. ”I’m not asking for the services of your business. I’m far more interested in what you have to offer. I’ve been told I’m rather skilled at showing people a good time and don’t you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at that associate of yours. So no reason to deny yourself. Actually-”

Reigen’s extended arm is pushed out of the way in favor for the distance to be crossed again and the other rummages through his pockets once more. He pulls out a few spare bills and gently shoves them into the exposed front pocket of Reigen’s shirt. The unwanted touch makes him jolt. “A little tip for today. Enjoyed having you around, Reigen. Make sure to think about it.”

Reigen does not consider himself a particularly angry person and while he tends to get rattled if unprepared, he’s usually able to brush it off at the end of the day. This, however, is going too far even for him. While it certainly isn’t the first time one of their clients had gotten up close and personal with him, this oversteps far too many boundaries.

“Excuse me, Sir, but who do you think-”

He doesn’t get much further than that before the man suddenly gets pulled back. Not even a second later an all too familiar arm slides around his waist and pulls him close to Serizawa’s side. So lost in his utter disbelief about the advances towards him, he hadn’t realized that the ESPer was done with collecting the payment and had joined them. He looks up at Serizawa in confusion and by the way the other’s forced smile doesn’t reach his eyes, Reigen can tell that he is absolutely furious.

It would most likely be possible for him to count the times he had seen Serizawa this upset on one hand and he realizes that the ESPer must have used his powers to bring some distance between them and the other man. In most instances, Reigen might remind him that this isn’t necessarily up to company policy, but considering the circumstances he’s rather glad for the intervention. With how protective the hand on his waist is holding onto him and with how close he is pressed up against Serizawa, he can’t help but feel a little flustered It isn’t unknown to him that he finds himself incredibly affected by the other’s protectiveness, but it still catches him off guard each and every time.

He’s so distracted by how inappropriately warm he feels under his collar, that it takes him a moment to realize that the ESPer has plucked the business card from his fingers. He reads it over for a moment and his eyes grow a little darker before he uses his powers to crumple it up midair and tosses it to the side right after.

“We won’t be needing that.” His voice is level but cold and Reigen, despite how in awe he is, still hopes that Serizawa isn’t too affected by his own anger. He knows him well enough to be aware that the ESPer doesn’t particularly like to lose control of his emotions. However, this isn’t his normal protective behavior either and the sudden realization of what it is makes Reigen gasp quietly, his pale cheeks most likely a dark shade of red. Serizawa is jealous.

“Taka, I think we should be going.” The ESPer’s voice is more demanding than Reigen is used to, but he finds himself too caught up in his revelation to care. While jealousy isn’t necessarily the most elegant way for him to find out, it still finally dawns on Reigen just how serious Serizawa is about him. The thought makes his head spin and all he can do for a moment is nod.

“Ah- Sure. Yes. It is quite late.” His answer is more of a breathless laugh than anything and he knows full well that his expression must be dumbfounded. Even if he would never admit it out loud, he finds himself finding an odd sense of fulfillment in the other’s possessiveness. It may just be for a moment, but he truly feels important.

Serizawa gives the man across from them a last sharp glare and tightens his hold around Reigen even further. The only answer to the action is an audible swallow and without giving anyone else another chance to speak, Serizawa finally pulls him along. His guidance around Reigen is surprisingly gentle and all he has to do is keep up with the ESPer’s quick and long steps.

Only when they make their way off the premises does the pressure in the air around them fade. Carefully, the hand around his waist slips off in favor of moving to intertwine their fingers, a thumb brushing gently over his knuckles. He gives himself a moment to mourn the loss of contact and warmth and Serizawa a moment to collect his thoughts.

Eventually, the ESPer sighs deeply, his shoulder sinking and his eyes firmly locked onto the ground.

“I-” Serizawa’s words die in his throat immediately and his hand squeezes Reigen’s apologetically before he tries again. “I’m sorry. I know that wasn’t called for and I know you can take care of this stuff by yourself. I shouldn’t have- I just- ah. I just really didn’t like the way he was touching you. He was…”

His words drift off and once Reigen knows that Serizawa won’t continue, he allows himself to be the one stepping closer this time, their shoulders brushing ever so slightly.

“He was going too far.” He states matter of factly, huffing a little in annoyance. It’s obvious how nervous and guilty Serizawa feels about losing composure. His free hand is nervously rubbing his fingers together and his eyes are looking anywhere but Reigen. From where said man stands, he can see the ESPer worrying the inside of his cheek. He hopes that his almost casual tone is able to take some of the edge off and keep Serizawa from beating himself up too much. For a moment, he closes his eyes and concentrates on the warmth of the other’s hand in his. “Not only inappropriate, but right next to his mother as well. People these days. Every alleyway behind any old bar would have made for a better place to hit on someone. Really, what nerve that guy had. Is it too much to ask for just one normal client every now and then?”

One of his eyes cracks open to glance up once more. His smile is encouraging and when he sees Serizawa smile back sheepishly, he is flooded with a wave of relief. The simple gesture is enough to make the last bit of Reigen’s work demeanor melt away and he exhales softly, fully relaxing now.

When he speaks up again, his words are filled with honesty and much gentler than his previous attempt at being funny. “Trust me, ‘Suya. I don’t think there’s anyone that could ever begin to compare to you. Certainly no one I’d rather have here with me than you.”

Reigen himself isn’t prepared for the amount of adoration his statement is laced with and faintly he wonders when he had started to lay his emotions out in the open like this. It makes him a little nervous but the small blush that spreads over Serizawa’s cheeks makes saying it worth it.

Eventually, both their steps come to a halt and for a few seconds they do nothing but study each other’s expression, Reigen taking in the ESPer’s beautiful smile and any wrinkle that it comes with.

The intimacy overwhelms him soon enough and he feels silly for not being used to it at this point. They had gone much, much further than just holding hands, but Reigen still isn’t able to feel so seen by someone else for longer than just a few moments. Though, if it’s for Serizawa, he is nothing if not determined to work on it.

“E-either way. Next time let’s try not to scare potential future clients to death. That isn’t good for the business.” His lecture is a weak attempt at distracting from how hot his face is and how fast his heart is beating and without much of a second thought, he adds, “Even if I have to admit that I didn’t mind it all too much. So don’t worry. With- I mean you looked-”

Serizawa looks at him with wide eyes and curiosity now. With the redness of his cheeks it is almost the complete opposite of his furious expression from earlier. Reigen can’t help but feel a little awkward now, not quite sure where he had expected himself to go from here. In the end, they still had a lot to learn about each other and he isn’t exactly sure what his words mean to the other. His free hand busies itself with flailing through the air when he continues, trying not to embarrass himself any further, “I-It’s good to know that you care that much. A-about me, I mean. Not that I doubted that or anything.”

He isn’t able to keep their eye contact for much longer than that, but the last look on the ESPer’s face had already told him that trying to save himself had long gone out the window. Serizawa is already turning Reigen’s words over in his head and by the way his hand squeezes once again, it is obvious that he starts to catch on. With the last of his dignity and his voice dropping into a slightly more serious tone, he tries to cover up at least some of the humiliation, “Still, try not to do it again.”

“Oh. I-I see.” The infliction of his words makes Reigen’s stomach twist in sudden excitement and he isn’t sure whether that’s a good or a bad sign. He has the feeling that his last statement hasn’t necessarily been taken seriously and he has the sneaking suspicion that Serizawa is working on his own plans now. Soon enough, the ESPer’s hand slips out of Reigen’s own sweaty one, just for an arm to find its way back around his waist.

“Won’t do it again, ‘Taka. Promised.” Considering the urgency and eagerness in Serizawa’s steps, he isn’t inclined to believe him. However, with how quickly he is matching the pace, he shouldn’t be allowed to point any fingers. “Let’s head to my place for today. It’s a few stops closer.”

Even from this angle, Reigen can see the way the other bites his bottom lip in excitement, his cheeks a few shades darker than normally and they just had to look ridiculously in love to everyone they pass. He finds himself not caring all that much, though, as long as he wouldn’t have to think about any other clients for the rest of the weekend.

#Serirei #Mp100 #Mob Psycho 100 #My writing #can you believe i actually decided to upload this on tumblr too <3

60 notes · View notes