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theemporium · 7 months

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[5k] neither of you considered the possibility of your family and friends finding out about your relationship. however, in a series of events, they discover you and quinn are together. but it's fine as long as luke doesn't find out, right?

part one // series masterlist

When the season started, you thought it would be easier to hide your relationship from everyone you knew. Never once did either you or Quinn expect to be caught.

And never once did you think the first person to learn about you and Quinn would be Trevor fucking Zegras of all people.

Before the semester had even started, it had been an unspoken agreement between you and Quinn that you would fly out during reading week. It would be difficult to avoid questions—mostly from Luke who would be offended you weren’t going to fly out to New Jersey—but it was doable. It just took a few weeks of you dropping hints and clues about flying out to Canada to your best friend for him to not really question it when you said you were going to visit your brother.

And after months away, it was a fucking dream to have this week with Quinn, to settle that uneasiness in your chest that had been lingering since you left the lakehouse that summer.

You both knew the hockey schedule was insane. You knew neither of you could really leave his apartment. But with a string of games at home for the week, it seemed worth having that week together.

You didn’t think anything could go wrong.

“What are you thinking in that pretty head of yours?”

Your fingers paused the random shapes they were tracing on his bare chest, moving to lift your head to find him already staring at you with a fond look.

“You. Us. This. Everything.” You listed off, your lips twitching upwards when he rolled his eyes. “What? You asked and I answered.”

“I think you’re holding out on me,” Quinn retorted, his hand squeezing where it rested on your hip. “Wanna share what things you were thinking about? More specifically, those thoughts about us.”

You snorted. “Get your head out of the gutter, Hughes.”

“Maybe you need to get your head down there,” he countered and, before a witty response could even pass your lips, he had flipped you both over until you were laying on your back with him looming over you. “It’s fun down here, I think you’d like it.”

You tucked your lip between your teeth. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed as his fingers traced up and down your bare thigh, a small grin on his face when he felt your body shiver in response. “Gave me a few ideas too.”

You swallowed harshly as you noted the dark glint in his eyes, the way your stomach twisted in desire as his fingers kept moving upwards. “Like what?”

Quinn’s smirk widened a little. “Like—”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Your brows furrowed in confusion, feeling as though your body had been doused in cold water as you sat up a little. “Were you expecting someone?”

Quinn frowned, sitting up himself as he tried not to show his clear annoyance at the interruption. “No, I told the boys to call me if they needed me outside of practice. I don’t know who that could be—”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“You should probably go get that,” you murmured, trying to bite back your smile as Quinn grumbled something under his breath.

“If it’s any of the boys, I’m making them do bag skates at practice,” he huffed, crawling out of the sheets and reaching for an abandoned pair of sweatpants on the floor before he left the bedroom.

He could feel his annoyance brittle when the person knocked for a third time, this time hitting the door over and over again until Quinn reached for the handle and yanked the door open.

The last person he expected to see was Trevor Zegras on the other side, grinning at him like it was a totally normal thing for him to be on Quinn’s doorstep on a random Tuesday.

“There’s my favourite Hughes!”

Quinn blinked once. And then twice. And then a third time just to make sure he was actually standing there.

“What the fuck, Zegras?”

“I wanted to surprise you! We didn’t have anything on before the game on Thursday so I thought I’d head up a day earlier than the others and—” Trevor paused, seeming to catch on to the way the older boy was glaring at him. “Geez, this wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.”

“I—” Quinn took a deep breath. “And what reaction were you expecting?”

“At least a hug, I mean—” Trevor moved to take a step forward, his arms open like he was going to reach to hug the other boy, only to pause. It was like he was finally taking in Quinn’s attire for the first time—or the lack thereof—before his eyes focused on the blossoming bruises along his neck and collarbone.

It was scary the way the grin spread across his face.

Quinn frowned. “What? Why are you doing that with your face?”

“You got a girl in here, Huggy?” Trevor grinned, not even giving Quinn a chance to react before he was pushing his way into the flat. “Aw shit, Jack never told me you were seeing someone! Is it new? What’s her name? Is it a dude? Listen, I don’t judge! I’ve seen the edits with you and Pettersson.”

Quinn blinked. “I—what?”

He was still standing in shock, trying to process the words that just left Trevor’s lips before he realised the boy was walking deeper into his flat. His eyes widened, his brain shutting out whatever random rambling that was coming out of Trevor’s mouth as he tried to reach out to stop the boy—but it was useless.

It was like the whole world froze when Trevor shoved the bedroom door open. His words came to an abrupt stop, his jaw hanging open as he looked at you sprawled on Quinn’s bed with a sheet covering your clearly-otherwise naked body. He looked at your face, then back to Quinn before they settled on you again.

“YOU’RE BANGING LADY HUGHES?!”

Quinn winced. “Why do you have to say it like that?”

“I…oh my god…you…WHAT?” Trevor spluttered out, looking between the two of you like you were aliens to him. “How long has this been going on? Why the fuck did no one tell me? What the fuck?”

“Well, we can’t tell you something nobody else knows,” you supplied with a sheepish expression.

His eyes widened further. “Nobody else knows? Like at all?”

You shook your head.

His face instantly brightened. “So I’m the first?”

“Not by choice,” Quinn grumbled under his breath.

“You can’t tell anyone, Trev,” you said, a pleading look on your face. “Especially not Luke. We are gonna tell him…just not yet. You cannot tell a soul, not even Jack.”

“I won’t. Scout’s promise.”

Quinn glared at him. “Were you even a boy scout?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“I—” Quinn just shook his head. “Can you just…wait outside whilst we get dressed?”

“Aw, I knew you’d be happy I was here, Huggy,” Trevor beamed, patting the older boy’s cheek before he bounced out of the room, most likely helping himself to whatever was in Quinn’s fridge.

Quinn turned to you, looking exasperated but you just grinned.

“Guess that’s one less person we have to worry about hiding from?”

He just sighed deeply in response.

…

Trevor ended up keeping his word, not telling a soul. Though, he did go out of his way to bug you and Quinn—mostly Quinn—about your relationship.

You would have thought the situation with Trevor would have prompted the two of you to be more careful. You thought it would have been your lesson learnt that not even the season being fully underway would be distracting enough for you to be as laid back as you were. You thought it was the small reality check you needed.

As it would turn out, it wasn’t even two weeks later when the next slip up happened.

It was a stupid, drunken promise that led you to the Hughes’ family home in Ann Arbor, bright and early on a Saturday. When the boys had revealed to you that all three batches of the cookies they had meant to make for a charity sale the university were holding had burnt to a crisp because all of them were incapable of baking, you had offered up your amateur baking skills to make a few batches.

You were drunk and emotionally compromised and it was really hard to say no to the pleading eyes of Ethan Edwards.

However, with your kitchen barely being big enough to hold two people, Ellen had kindly offered her kitchen for you to use. Plus, she had been wanting to catch up with you since the semester had started, especially considering it was the longest time you and Luke had been apart.

It was somewhere in between the second and third batch when your phone started ringing on the counter.

“Hey Ellen, could you grab that for me?” You called out over your shoulder, your hands preoccupied in rolling small balls of cookie dough to place on the tray. “Just answer it and put it on speaker.”

There was a beat of hesitation. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, just place it down on the counter beside me,” you said offhandedly, frowning at the batch of cookies as Ellen pressed the little green button and let the ringing stop.

You were elbow deep in a bowl of batter when a familiar voice echoed through the Hughes’ kitchen.

“Hey babe, quick question: did you say you were coming up for Christmas break or not?”

The whole room fell silent as you looked over your shoulder, finding Ellen already staring at you. She had an amused glint in her eyes, her lips twitching upwards in a smile that was a little mischievous—it reminded you so much of Jack. You dared a glance at the doorway where Jim stood, eyebrows raised in surprise but something quite happy in his expression.

“Uh, can I call you back? I just have to…deal with something real quick.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just…” You trailed off again, your cheeks burning as Ellen and Jim stared at you. “I’ll call back in ten minutes when I’m finished with these cookies, okay?”

“Okay, miss you.”

“Miss you too.”

The sound of the call cutting sounded through the kitchen and none of you said anything for a few seconds. And much to your surprise, it was Jim who spoke first.

“God dammit, kid, you cost me twenty bucks!”

You blinked. “Huh?”

Ellen smiled fondly, taking a few steps until she was beside you. She gave your elbow a soft squeeze, something knowing in her gaze. “I always knew you’d end up with one of my boys. Jim was just convinced it would be Jack.”

Jim huffed. “I bet your parents twenty bucks each.”

Your eyes widened. “My parents?”

“We aren’t blind, kid,” Jim retorted, something soft and fond in his voice.

Ellen snorted. “Clearly you are since you thought it would be Jack.”

“I—” You started but you weren’t even sure what to say.

Ellen turned back to you, smiling like the whole conversation was normal. “I always knew it would be Quinn. I saw the way he looked at you, even when you were young.”

Your brows furrowed. “Quinn barely liked me when we were kids.”

And Ellen just laughed like that was the funniest thing you could have said. It wasn’t exactly the way you wanted either of your parents—Quinn’s and your own—to find out about your relationship.

But, unlike Trevor, Ellen and Jim understood the unspoken rule and just how…complicated the situation was, despite Ellen’s insistence that her eldest son had been crushing on you for a lot longer than you believed.

Nobody tell Luke.

…

It was your fault for leaving the room.

When you had enrolled in Michigan, there was a small part of you that was worried college would be the thing to tear you and Luke apart. In retrospect, it was a stupid thought to have. But you were young and scared and entering this unknown era of your life, and you just wanted to cling onto what you knew, what you were used to—onto Luke.

You realised pretty early on that the thought was stupid when the hockey team had practically adopted you. You were an extension of Luke, but it never felt like that. They were your friends as much as they were Luke’s, and you found yourself fond of these boys who had wiggled their way into your heart.

Knowing you still had them despite Luke being in New Jersey made coming back alone so much easier.

However, the life of a D1 athlete was an intense one, along with the fact classes were getting harder and assignments were getting longer. But the boys had practically demanded you come over at least once a week so you didn’t ‘forget who your new best friends are’, as they so kindly liked to say over and over again. Mostly just to annoy Luke.

It was one of those nights. You had made your way to their house after your last class, faceplanting down onto the couch until the group of you had decided on ordering pizza. You had some random comedy movie running on in the background, just senseless noise to accompany whatever random debates Ethan had managed to drag up. It was nice and easy and relaxing, and made you feel a little more sane in what was turning out to be a gruelling year.

You were in the middle of showing Rutger a random video Jack had sent you of Luke decking it on the ice during practice when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” you told them without missing a beat, leaving your phone in their hands as you collected the pizzas from the delivery man.

What you weren’t expecting was to come back and find all of them staring at you with creepy matching grins on their faces.

You froze, eyeing them suspiciously. “What? What happened?”

“You are a sneaky lil’ thing, aren’t you?” Rutger spoke up, looking far too smug over something you were still in the dark over.

You glanced between them before your eyes settled on Rutger again, your confusion clear on your face.

Rutger continued, “when were you gonna tell us you have a boyfriend?”

Your body froze. “I don’t know what—”

“And when the fuck were you gonna tell us it’s Quinn Hughes?” Mark jumped in, turning your phone around to show a picture you and Quinn had taken during your last visit.

He had taken the photo in an elevator mirror, your back to the camera as you wrapped yourself around the boy. But he was grinning, so big and unbothered and it was one of your favourite sights. It was one of your favourite photos of him.

And it certainly wasn’t the photo you left them with.

“Did you go through my phone?” You finally managed to blurt out when words found you again. But the damage was done and you knew there wasn’t much you could do considering the last time they were aware, you barely spoke to the oldest Hughes brother.

“I can’t believe you kept this from us!” Ethan huffed out, shaking his head like he was genuinely offended. He probably was. He tended to be the more dramatic one.

“I can’t believe Luke allowed this,” Mark snorted.

You flashed them a sheepish smile.

“Oh, dude,” Rutger murmured with a shake of his head.

“You can’t tell him. You can’t tell anyone.” You shifted in your spot, something a little desperate and pleading in your voice, and it was enough for the boys to sober up a bit. Become a little more serious. “We didn’t wanna tell anyone yet and I just…”

“We won’t tell a soul,” Mark reassured you, a soft smile on his face that eased some of the anxiety in your chest.

“As long as you tell us everything,” Ethan added, a knowing smirk on his face. “And I mean everything because how the fuck does any of the Hughes brothers have game?”

And you couldn’t help but snort in response.

…

Jack didn’t accidentally find out more than he put it together.

It wasn’t often that the Devils and the Canucks met during the season but when they did, it was a family affair. You had decided to join the Hughes parents on their trip up to Vancouver, each of you wearing your hybrid Canucks/Devils jerseys that Ellen had custom made for these occasions.

The game itself went by as you expected. There was a lot of media coverage on the ‘Hughes Bowl’, meaning each of the boys had been dragged into interview after interview before the game. It was a good game, a clean one too. You tried not to wince too much when the final buzzer blared through the arena and it was a Devils win.

You knew Quinn would be a little gutted, even if he wouldn’t fully show it in front of his family.

The group of you had decided to head out to one of the Canucks’ favourite bars, something that Luke had whined a little about considering Ellen and Jim insisted they join. But it was wholesome and sweet and made you crave the summer weeks a little more than the current early January weather.

You were settled at the bar, laughing at Jack’s attempt to catch the bartender’s attention to order another round of shots he had dragged you into doing when you felt the warmth of another body settle beside you. For a short moment, you smiled thinking that maybe Quinn had snuck away from whatever conversation he had been stuck in with Petey and Jim. But when you turned your head, you found a stranger standing beside you.

“Hey gorgeous,” he smiled, and something instantly unsettled deep within your chest.

“Hi,” you replied, short and blunt as you tried to shift away but there wasn’t much space by the crowded bar.

“Hey, where are you going? I just wanted to chat,” he said with an easy smile on his face, his hand resting on your elbow and you instantly jerked away from his hold.

“I’m not interested,” you answered.

He laughed and the sound grated on your nerves. “That’s a bit presumptuous that I wanted something, sweetheart. Think you’re all that, huh?”

“Just leave me alone,” you said as you took a step back. A part of you wanted to turn your head and try to catch Jack’s attention, try to ask for help. Another part of you didn’t want to look away from this man. You didn’t trust him.

He huffed out a chuckle. “Don’t be like that—”

“She said no. Fuck off now.”

A mix of relief and surprise washed over you when you felt a body settle behind you, and you didn’t need to turn your head to know it was Quinn standing behind you, but you still did just to settle the tightness in your chest.

His face was set in a blank expression, but you recognised it well enough. When he got angry—truly angry—he didn’t have a frown on his face or a crease between his brows. His face just looked…blank. Like he was so lost in his own rage that no expression could really encapsulate how he felt.

You rarely saw it. He rarely showed this side of him.

His hands were on your waist, pulling you closer to his body as his eyes never left the stranger’s. He tilted his head to the side when the man opened his mouth again, and that seemed enough to shut him up again.

“Go.”

The man decided to do the smart thing and scuttle into the crowd of people, disappearing with a blink of an eye until neither you nor Quinn could see him. But even with him gone, you couldn’t shake the uneasiness in your chest.

A second passed before Quinn moved, now standing in front of you with your face in his hands as he tore your gaze away from the crowd to look at him instead. His brows were furrowed together in concern, his lips turned downwards as he glanced over you to make sure you were okay.

“Hey, you with me?” He murmured, his voice soft and comforting and you clung onto it.

“Mhm,” you nodded, flashing him a shaky smile.

His frown deepened. “Don’t lie to me—”

“I’m not,” you told him honestly, your hands fisting the material of his shirt like you were scared he was going to step away. “I just…you make me feel better.”

His face softened and the last of his resolve went out the window as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you close until you were pressed into his chest. You nuzzled your face against his sweater, letting the familiar smell of his cologne wash over you and calm the last of your nerves.

And when you opened your eyes, you found Jack standing a few feet away from you. Quinn hadn’t noticed he was there and Jack made no move to announce his presence. But he gave you this smile, one that was kind and knowing and felt like a stamp of approval you didn’t know you wanted or needed from the middle Hughes brother.

But Jack smiled at the sight of you and his older brother, raising his shot glass like a promise to keep your secret and knocking it back without a moment of hesitation.

…

You had no plans on telling Luke about you and Quinn the night it actually ended up happening.

There was a mutual agreement between you both that you couldn’t keep it from Luke any longer. It wasn’t fair on him to be left in the dark, it wasn’t fair on you two having to sneak around and it wasn’t fair on the people who already knew having to keep your secret.

And with the normal season coming to an end, it felt like a clock was running against you to tell your best friend you were dating his brother before you were all locked in the lakehouse for the summer together.

When you had imagined the moment in your head, it was the three of you. You would sit Luke down, explain your feelings and hope that he wouldn’t feel too betrayed. You imagined he would say something stupid like ‘yeah, I already know, losers’ and you could live your lives happily ever after.

It was probably never going to happen like that, but you certainly didn’t expect it to happen like this.

After a rough season and a streak of rough games for Luke in particular, the news of the Devils’ head coach stepping down felt inevitable and, truthfully, it was a relief when you saw the news come through. Luke had called you, far too smug and giddy for someone whose team was technically without a key member—but you guessed it was mostly second-hand from the other boys.

You swore you could hear Jack and Nico talking about popping open a bottle of champagne in the background when he called.

It felt like an unspoken agreement for you to fly out when Luke told you about a huge party they were throwing that weekend. Not for the recent retirement, obviously. If anyone asked, it was a simple bonding experience for the boys to motivate them through the last leg of the season.

And somewhere between the beer pong game Luke dragged you into and the really strong margarita Simon made you, you had snuck off into a small bathroom to call the one person your drunk self craved to see.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

You grinned at the sight of your boyfriend’s face on your screen, his hair tucked under a beanie as he walked around his apartment. “Hey, baby.”

He took in your flushed cheeks and glossy eyes, snorting a little. “Having fun?”

“So much fun,” you giggled before letting out a heavy sigh. “I wish you were here.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, like he was counting the days. He probably was. You knew you were too. “Spring break, remember?”

“Hmm, I can’t wait to have you all to myself,” you mused, sinking back against the wall of the bath you were currently leaning on. “I’m sick of sharing my boyfriend with Petey.”

Quinn laughed. “I thought you loved Petey.”

You sighed deeply. “I do love that big, blond Swede.”

He shook his head in amusement. “I’ll let him know. I’m sure he loves you too.”

You perked up a little. “Really?”

“Really, baby.”

“Woah,” you breathed out, your eyes falling shut as you leaned against the cool ceramic of the bathtub. “I know I said it before…but I really wish you were here.”

Quinn’s face softened. “Me too, babe. Me too.”

You opened your mouth to say something, probably some random drunken thought that you felt the insistent need to share with your boyfriend before knocking on the bathroom door interrupted you.

You froze when you heard Luke calling your name on the other side.

Quinn frowned at the way your face paled a little. “Baby, what’s happened? Who is it?”

You heard shuffling on the other side before Luke’s muffled voice sounded through the door. “Are you talking to Quinn?”

You could have hung up. You could have told him you were talking to someone else entirely. You could have done a million and one other things that made more sense. However, for some fucking reason, your drunk brain panicked.

“I don’t know a Quinn!”

Quinn furrowed his brows in confusion.

There was a pause on the other side of the door before Luke tested the handle, finding the door unlocked. He let himself in, standing by the entrance as he stared down at you curled up beside the bathtub with a frown.

“Why are you hiding in here? I need another beer pong partner and Holtz sucks so—”

And because the universe liked to fuck with you, it seemed like there was some sort of lag on Quinn’s side because his voice was echoing through the small bathroom before you could even warn him about Luke’s presence.

“Baby, what’s happening? You’re starting to scare me.”

Your eyes widened as silence suffocated the small room. You looked at Quinn before looking at Luke, who was looking at your phone with a mixed expression.

“Did…did he just call you baby?”

“No?”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on? Why are you on the phone to Quinn? And why are you hiding in the bathroom? And since when do you talk to Quinn?”

You flashed him a sheepish smile. “Since we’ve been dating,”

Luke blinked before he snorted. “No, I’m being serious.”

You swallowed. “So am I.”

Luke let out another laugh, but this one was a little less convincing. “I…no, you’re messing with me. Jack put you both up to this, right?”

You stayed silent.

“Right?” Luke asked again, a little more desperate.

Your eyes shifted down to Quinn—the lag thankfully gone—before you looked back up at Luke with a nervous expression. You shifted so your phone screen was now facing him, watching as his eyes dropped down to his brother’s face.

“We wanted to tell you—”

“You,” Luke sneered, his eyes narrowed. “You have been planning this.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“He’s been planning this!” Luke said with such confidence, though that might have been the mix of rum and tequila talking. “He’s been planning this since the sour patch kids!”

Quinn shot his brother a look. “You think I’ve been planning to date your best friend since you were seven?”

“Yes.”

You didn’t have to look at the screen to know Quinn was rolling his eyes at his younger brother.

“How long has this been going on?”

“A while.”

“That’s not an answer,” Luke frowned before looking at you.

“Since last summer,” you whispered.

“Summer?!” Luke spluttered. “You two have been dating for eight months and no one knew?”

You winced.

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Who knows?”

“Just Trevor,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders.

He deflated, blinking. “Oh, well I guess—”

“And your parents and my parents and Ethan and Rutger and Mark and Jack,” you blurted out quickly, your cheeks heating up as Luke stared at you like he didn’t know you.

“So everyone but me?”

“Luke—”

“Everyone but me knows?”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“This is just a bad dream,” Luke murmured to himself before nodding his head, a little more confidently. “No, yes. This is a bad dream influenced by Nemo’s shitty bartending skills. A bad dream where my older brother is stealing my best friend. It isn’t real at all.”

You blinked. “Luke—”

“Just need to play out the rest of the bad dream and I’ll wake up,” he continued muttering away as he reached for the door handle, ready to leave the small, cramped bathroom. “Just a bad dream.”

“Luke—”

But he was already gone before you could say anything.

“Well, he’s gonna have a brutal reality check in the morning.”

You turned your phone to glare at your boyfriend. Though, much to your surprise, he was grinning in response.

“Quinn, this is serious.”

“Baby, I know.” His face seemed to soften a little, but the smile remained. “But now he knows. This is what we wanted. And now we don’t have to hide.”

Your annoyance melted away at his revelation, a warmth settling in your chest that only Quinn seemed to bring. “Stop being cute.”

“I’m being realistic, baby. Now you can come up any time you want.”

You snorted. “I still have classes.”

“I’ll find a way around those too. You can’t stop me, baby, gonna tell the whole world how much I love you.”

Your face softened with a smile. “I love you too.”

Quinn’s smile mirrored yours. “Now go make sure my brother doesn’t do something stupid whilst he thinks he’s in a dream. Mum will kill me if his face is plastered on a tabloid in the morning.”

“Pretty sure Jack will go out of his way to make sure that happens.”

“Please don’t let it happen.”

You gave him a mock salute. “Aye, aye, captain.”

He shook his head with a fond expression. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay. Bye, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And I love Petey.”

Quinn snorted. “Yeah, I love him too. Get in line.”

#quinn hughes #nhl #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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slutouttanowhere · 5 months

Text

pairing: Roman Reigns x Sabrina Richards

word count: 5k

a/n: not much to say here, Naomi, and Sabrina’s entrance song: My House by Beyonce, hope y’all enjoy, reblogs are much appreciated. Follow me for more ❤️

⏪ Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Adam Pearce is dead set on overworking me tonight, not only did I have an appearance with Seth, and Cody tonight, I’m booked for a tag match for the titles with Naomi. “Anyway like I was saying, the neon looks bomb on you girl.” Naomi beamed at me, when my pouty expression didn't change she started dancing, and playfully backed her booty up on me. “Don't leave me hanging now.” She said mid twerk, Naomi was determined to get a laugh out of me, and there’s no way you could deny her.

“Fine.” I giggled, my hips began to sway to the music in my head, but then I slightly bent at the wait poking my booty out. Of course Naomi cheered me on, which drew the attention of others, and the next thing I knew Carmella, and Liv had danced their way over to our side of the hallway. Liv had pulled out her phone, and set it up on one of the unused crates.

“Dance break!” Carmella shouted, soon my stress from earlier was forgotten for the moment.

“She got that whoa there, hangman got that whoa there, don't act like you dont know.” I sang Beyonce’s lyrics, and Naomi posed in her best cowboy pose, which led to us all trying to follow suit, the four of us bursted out into laughter. The chatter had started up again, and I was in the middle of filming a tiktok with Naomi when Roman rolled by, this time only Solo by his side. Which was suspicious, but I decided to ignore it.

“So…this is what you do with your free time, making tiktoks.” Roman’s judgmental tone came from behind me, I could see in the reflection of my camera his eyes were watching me. Looking me up and down like a starved wolf. My lips pressed together, I could feel my blood pressure rising from the way he’s nearly breathing down my neck, and when I looked over to Naomi she was standing with her arms folded. A small smirk on her lips, I may or may not have told her about the pending crush I had on The Tribal Chief, of course she was more than happy I was moving on from a past shitty relationship. I continued doing my dance as if he wasn't standing there, a bold move on my part, but I didn't even know what to say to him, or how to say it. The only time I had interactions with Roman was in direct relation to Cody and Seth, neither of them were here now.

“Don't act like you dont hear me talking to you girl.” Roman raised his voice, then grabbed my arm, and turned me to him. I whipped around, and met him with a glare. I tried to pull my arm away, but he wouldn't let me go, he was taken aback by me putting up a fight. That only seems to excite him, the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a playful grin.

“Oh pardon me my Tribal Chief, I’m just confused as to why the hell you’re bothering me?” I questioned him, my tone stale, and a forced smile on my lips. I wasn't in a pleasant mood tonight, and I had a long list of reasons as to why, Roman being the top of that list. I could hear the girls quietly instigating behind us, and for a second his eyes flickered over my head to the peanut gallery behind us, and back to me.

“So moody today? Is it because you're tired of dealing with those losers, I already told you how to solve that.” He teased, he laughed smugly, he leaned in closer to me. The butterflies in the pit of my stomach fluttering vigorously, the scent of his expensive cologne invading my senses made it hard for me to think.

“What I’m tired of is you acting like you’re not scared.” I looked him up and down, I noticed his hair was not tied back in his trademark tight bun, but instead, fell down around his shoulders framing his face. His hair was curlier then how he usually kept it, I preferred it that way, but I knew he liked to keep it out of his face when he’s in the ring.

He scoffed, “Scared? Of those clowns? The failure, and his dancing jester?”

“Roman, everybody knows what you’re scared of babe…irrelevance. And all of it is in that undisputed title, when it’s gone, who are you then? Just, Roman Reigns.” I thought I was being funny, but it seems I bit back at him more than I intended. My logic turned off, and my mouth started running without thought; his tongue slowly glided across his lips, and his eyes looked up to the ceiling. He mumbled something inaudible to himself before his gaze found mine again, he scowled at me

“How many times have I told you to address me as ‘My Tribal Chief,’ Sabrina?” His voice now deep, and gruff. He sighed heavily, shaking his head, his grip on me loosened temporarily, and that’s when I remembered he was still holding on to me. Our proximity caused the butterflies in the pit of my stomach to swirl violently, and send a shiver down my spine. I had pressed his ego in front of other people, and now I would pay for it. “Looks like I’ll have to teach you a lesson for being a bad girl.” My heart pounded in my ears, nervous as to what the hell he meant by that, surely he wouldn’t put his hands on me in a violent way?

“Naomi, Sabrina, you guys have ten minutes to head to gorilla.” An official had walked up to our group, their eyes lingered on Roman’s grip on me, reluctantly let me go. Naomi then pulled me by the shoulder, and dragged me off in the opposite direction. I looked over my shoulder, sure enough his eyes were watching me. I whipped back around, and tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Girl…” Naomi trailed off, we stood behind the curtain, Hunter sat behind the monitors watching the show. He gave us a wave, but barely took his eyes off the small screens.

“I know.” I sighed, she knew better than anyone the burden I shouldered with this drama, but she also knew how stubborn I can be when it comes to getting what I want, and executing the plan on my terms.

“Let’s not think about that right now, instead, lets focus on whooping Sonya, and Shayna’s ass’. After they jumped us last week, they gone feel this glow. Ya feel me?” Naomi and I slapped hands hitting our hand shake, then bumped hips, I couldn't help the giggle that came from me.

“I’m so glad you're my partner.” I pulled her into a hug wrapping my arms around her waist, her long toned arms going around the back of my neck, when we heard DIY’s music hit signaling their win we knew we would be up soon.

“You know I got your back B.” She hugged me tighter, then we ran through our warm ups, and some stretches while we waited. Hunter notified us that after the commercial break we were out first, soon they hit our music, and out we went. The lights in the arena went out, and the stadium nearly exploded from the roar of the fans, my skin prickled with goose bumps from the loud pop we received for us tonight. It felt so good to know my home town still showed up for me when we came around.

“WHO THEY CAME TO SEE? ME. WHO REP IT LIKE ME DON'T MAKE ME GET UP OUT MY SEAT. UH OHHH” Our music blasted through the arena, Naomi and I danced down to the ring, our glow in the dark, neon gear the brightest thing in the arena besides the titan tron behind us. This was the best part of my night, having fun with Naomi, she's such a breath of fresh air. “No sauce or nothing.” Naomi mumbled to me shaking her head as we watched Shayna and Soyna walk down to the ring, they didn't really do fancy entrances. They’d rather get straight to the fight, that’s fine by me, the faster I can beat their ass the faster I can get back to Cody and Seth. Shayna and I started things off, immediately she tried to get me into a sleeper hold. I was quick to power out of it bucking my hips back into her pelvis, I could hear her grunting, but she held on to me. It was becoming difficult for me to breathe, I knew I couldn't give up just yet, a contender's spot was on the line. Naomi amped up the crowd stomping her foot on the apron, “GLOW, GLOW, GLOW!” She shouted, I bucked my hips back into her a second time, and then a third time till Shayna stumbled backward. She landed on her butt roughly, I could hear the crowd cringe, but I didn't let that distract me. She struggled to her feet, but I kicked at her shoulder, then switched back and forth giving her a barrage of kicks to both shoulders. She stumbled on her feet, quickly I hopped up to the top turnbuckle, Naomi slapped my thigh thus tagging herself in, and I ended my move with a missile dropkick to Shayna’s chest.

Naomi flawlessly hops up onto the top turnbuckle, and into a splash frog, into a pin. Shayna was slow to kick out, nevertheless, Naomi moved to the next thing, and brought Shayna up to her feet. Before Naomi had the chance to do anything, Shayna popped up, and clocked Naomi right across the face. “C’mon Naomi wake it up girl!” I shouted and clapped my hands at her, she didn't have much time to recover, Shayna took Naomi’s confusion as an opening to lock her in the sleeper hold. This time she didn't make the same mistake she made with me, Shayna then wrapped her legs around Naomi’s waist so she wouldn't be able to shake her off like I did. She was trying to fight it off, but she was fading. I was stomping the apron so damn hard one would think I might break it off the bone, but in all my efforts it was working. “Fuck it.” Led by passion to get my hands on those titles, I couldn't let us go out like this, the referee was too slow to stop me. I got in between the ropes, and popped Shayna on the back of the neck with an enziguri kick. She immediately dropped to the ground with Naomi, as I was trying to untangle them, Sonya had shoved me, without hesitation she climbed on top of me. Her fists attacked me, while she was doing that, she didn't see how I reached out, and slapped Naomi’s hand.

Naomi finally stumbled up, and dragged Shayna’s body out the ring. While Sonya was busy flexing to the crowd, I ran up to her, hooked my arm around the back of her neck then planted her face first into the mat landing a bulldog. The crowd was in a frenzy, cheering, and shouting for Naomi and I. While she’s laying there trying to recover, I climbed to the top rope, I steadied my feet before flipping off the top turnbuckle into my finisher StarGazer. I landed right on top of Sonya. I went for the cover, and she kicked out. I didn't bother waiting for her to recover. I stood up, then stomped both my feet into her gut off the top turnbuckle, then I grabbed her by her legs, and flipped her over locking in the Sharpshooter. Shayna had tried to get in to break my hold, but Naomi’s long legs kicked her on the side her head, thus knocking Shayna out. Sonya screamed, scratched, and clawed. Anything to get out of my grasp, little did she know I hadn't even sat all my weight down on her, until I could feel her dragging me towards the ropes. I dragged her back to the center, and sat all the way down on her lower spine applying more pressure.

She wasn't able to take the pain to her back any longer, and ultimately ended up tapping out. The bell rang, Naomi climbed back into the ring, and they hit our music. We wrapped our arms around each other, hugging each other tightly, and excitedly jumping up, and down. After our celebratory dance, we made our way up the ramp, and to the back. “Damn we were on fire tonight!” Naomi beamed, we slapped hands, and bumped hips. I was really proud of how far we’ve been making it since teaming up together, the future's looking bright for us. We walked back to the locker room with our arms linked chatting about what we were gonna be doing tonight after the show. After a quick shower, I had the makeup team apply my makeup this time. Tonight for Miz TV, Seth wanted to wear black, and red. To what his outfit was going to be I wasn't sure, but he said his shoes were going to be a surprise. Cody wasn’t into fashion much, he usually left the flashiness up to Seth and I. My appearance with the boys was revealed to me the day before, so unfortunately I had zero red items in my suitcase. After an impromptu trip to the mall, I was able to throw something together that would appease Seth, but also match his color scheme of the night.

“Alright Sabrina, all done.” Laure, my makeup artist, held a mirror up to my face. It was perfect as I expected, and just as swift. I gave her a quick hug, thanked her for her life saving work, and went about my business. While I was on my way to find Seth and Cody I bumped into them. “Oh hey, I was just about to come and find you guys.” Cody, who’s deadpan facial expression let me know all I needed to know about how he felt about his outfit. He was dressed nicely in his usual three piece suit, when my eyes landed on his dark red tie, and a dark red vest to watch. Then I looked at Seth who was of course grinning from ear to ear; it appeared he was wearing all black, “look down Sabrina, check out my awesome dancing shoes, ha haaa.” He laughed, he took a step back for me to see his whole outfit: red sunglasses, black puffer jacket, and black puffer pants to match with a black fishnet top. My eyes continued to travel down to see these big, bright, red boots. I was shocked, though I wasn't sure whether I liked them or not. I shrugged feeling impartial, “all I know is, you’re probably the only person that could pull them off the way that you are.”

“Yeahhh, we look like money, baby.” Seth cackled, then he turned to Cody, and wrapped an arm around his neck. “Lighten up man, have some fun for once.” Seth tried to coax a smile out of Cody, but we all knew how stubborn he could be. That didn’t stop Seth from trying, but when they played our music grinned mischievously. “Ohhh that’s our cue.” Seth pushed me ahead of them so that I would step out first, the crowd roared to life, and as if it couldn’t get any louder, when Cody and Seth came out after me the noise level was deafening. This seemed to have brought a small smile to Cody’s lips, I bumped my shoulder into his, and we linked our arms together. Miz was already waiting in the ring, his show all set up with three chairs for us, and mics waiting. Seth held the ropes open for me, and I was thankful that I wore sneakers tonight.

The crowd was buzzing with energy, I couldn’t help but stand in the middle of the ring to soak it all in. A sensation of excitement coursed through me, they started to sing Seth’s song, which brought Seth out of his seat. “You sound beautiful Cali, absolutely gorgeous!” I shouted, though I could barely hear myself over them, my skin prickled with goosebumps underneath my fur jacket.

Cody brought the mic to his lips, his eyes swept across the arena, and landed on Miz. Who sat patiently letting us have our moment, he to wore a smirk on his lips; he’s been the one stirring the pot between us and The Bloodline this whole time. Anything for views.

“So…Miz, Cali, what do ya wanna talk about?” He asked, the corners of his lips curling into a small grin, Seth finally took his seat on the other side of me. His large red boots in my peripheral vision, despite them being an eyesore, I happened to catch something else. In the crowd, back in the third row behind commentary there was a person just sitting there with a hood on. I couldn’t really see their face from the way they angled their head downwards, a chilling sensation went through me.

I tried to ignore it, and I thought I was doing a good job at it till Seth elbowed me. “C’mon boss, look alive! We are in your home state San Diego, California after all!” He shouted, drawing the attention away from my stoic moment, but I couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

“Uh, sorry, I was distracted by Seth’s bright ass boots.” I joked, Miz looked at me a bit worried at first, but like a professional he carried on as well.

“How do you guys expect to defeat the Bloodline? The tag titles are on Jimmy and Jey Uso right now. While Seth and Cody are amazing competitors individually, things are a bit shaky as a tag team.” Miz spoke honestly, all eyes turned to me, and I honestly wasn’t sure how to answer that.

“The Usos have been tag teaming together since the very beginning, they know no other way. On top of the fact that they’ve been tag champions for quite a while, and that is the exact reason they are going to lose those titles. See if it’s one thing I’m good at, it’s getting into the mind of my opponents, I mean I do have a Psychology degree after all.” I chuckled letting the crowd reply, but then I continued. “Jimmy and Jey have gotten way too comfortable where they are, complacent, and lazy. They think they’ve got it all in the bag, but come this weekend at Hell In A Cell, Cody and Seth are going stomp the fuck out of them.” I could hear Seth cackling behind me, the crowd began to sing Seth’s song.

“And what happens if you’re unsuccessful?” He asked, he leaned in with a quizzical expression, a slight smirk on his lips as if he stumped me.

I took a breath, tossing my hair over my shoulder, staring straight ahead at the audience, I said, “how’s that old saying go? There’s always a plan B.” There was a mixed reaction from the crowd, and I knew I had them eating out the palm of my hand then.

Miz was going to ask another question, but he was cut off by Roman’s music. I froze, my smile gone, and my heart pounding in my ears. It’s never a good thing when Roman shows up, with only Paul Heyman at his side, he holds onto Roman’s undisputed title tightly. The Ula Fala draped around his neck seemed to have caught the lights of the arena making it shine gloriously. His lips were moving, but we had no idea what he was saying. Cody stood from his chair, instantly on guard, he grabbed onto my wrist.

“Roman, Roman, Roman….I just knew you couldn’t help but show your ugly face.” I said dryly, he always shows up at the worst moments, and I hated that for me. He slowly approached the ring, then hopped on the side of the apron where I stood. I took a step back accidentally bumping into Cody, I didn’t take my eyes off The Tribal Chief, nor did he take his eyes off me as he stepped into the ring.

He held his hand out to Paul, without hesitation Paul placed a microphone in Roman’s waiting hand. “So now you’re a liar, because I know for a fact you don’t think my face is ugly baby girl.” He smiled smugly, his chocolate brown eyes looking me up and down, as observing me from head to toe. He lingered on my sneakers, then looked at Seth's boots, and then back to me. A humorous expression on his face, “with the exception of Sabrina, y’all look like some clowns.” The crowd didn’t like his insult at all, which only caused Roman to laugh harder. He casually leaned against the ropes, soaking up the hate, and loving every second of it.

“What do you want Roman, you’re wasting our time.” I rolled my eyes trying to move things along, placed my hand on my hip, and switched my weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m the WWE Undisputed Champion, your time is my time. Matter of fact, shit don’t shake around here unless I want it to. This is all mine, and I can do with it as I please.” He spread his arms out wide, he took his time making his point crystal clear. “This ring? It’s mine, the cute little chairs y’all were just sitting in, it’s mine. Y’all in this sold out arena in San Diego because of me!” He didn’t stop there, Roman only knew how to take things too far. “This WWE universe, down to the bullshit they tweet online, is only ever relevant because my name is attached to it.” He turned towards the crowd, his eyes wide, and his fist beating his chest. “So…instead of bitching, you should be thanking me, it’s because of me, that you are the star that you became. All three of y’all.” He took a step closer to me, but Cody stepped between us.

“Cut the shit Roman.” Seth snapped at him, “I’m the one that put you in the Shield, I’m the one that set you on this Tribal Chief path in the first place!” He shouted from behind me, Roman’s eyes widened, enraged that Seth implied such a thing.

“You didn't do a goddamn thing for me, but lie, you backstabbing bitch!” Roman growled out, hurt still evident in his voice, that was years ago at this point, but nothing felt worse than your family hurting you.

I threw the mic down at the chair, and put my hand on Cody’s shoulder. “Guys, let's not tonight okay?” I pleaded with them, they should be reserving their energy instead of fighting right now. Roman got under Cody’s skin with ease, no matter what came out of Romans mouth it got a reaction.

“You keep holding on to the past, you're going to lose your future.” Cody closed the gap between them, he pointed to the golden title Paul Heymen held onto with dear life, and the crowd was so loud I could barely hear Roman’s words. Something along the lines of, “you keep running your mouth, you might lose a couple teeth.”

“Cody–” I was cut off by Seth bumping into me, which caused me to bump into Cody, and he bumped Roman. That was all the excuse Roman needed to push Cody back and punch him square in the jaw.

“Shit.” I cursed, the sound of shouting, and grunting came from behind me. Jimmy and Jey were both beating Seth outside the ring. I went to climb out the ring, but two large hands grabbed me by the arms, and spun me around.

Romans hands grasped my shoulders, his eyes dark, and shining with malice. “I told you! I told you there would be consequences, look at what you caused, look at what you made me do!” A chill ran down my spine, I tried to pull away from him, but his grip only tightened. He brought me closer, then spun me in his arms so that I could watch as Jimmy and Jey rolled Seth back into the ring. The hooded man I saw earlier hopped the barricade, then revealed himself. Solo Sikoa, I should have known.

He stalked over to Cody in the corner who was very much out of it, “don’t do this.” I mumbled, I was in disbelief that this was happening, I knew Solo was out there, but I let myself get distracted as usual. There was so much chaos going on all at once, I didn't know where to look next, Cody, and Solo were closest to me. He stomped at Cody’s hands, and any body part he could get to.

“Don’t look away, watch them, watch the destruction; this is what needed to happen. You need to see that these two bozos are not worth it, Seth was never worth it.” He whispered in my ear for only me to hear, I didn’t take my eyes off Solo when he set Cody up in the corner, ripped his suit open, and chopped him across his chest until Cody fell back down to the mat. It didn’t stop there, “and when you finish that one, this one is next!” Roman shouted, his arms tightened around my waist, and stomach. His hands felt hot on my skin, his nails dug into my flesh reminding me of how he was in control of this situation.

Solo set Cody up again, this time he held his thumb up high, and brought it down onto Cody’s throat with a powerful torque behind it. He slid down in the corner, groaning in pain, Solo wasted no time turning to Seth, and as much squirmed around he just couldn’t get free. Solo’s thumb went up, and when it came down, I wholeheartedly believed that one was personal. Roman held onto my wrist with an iron grip as he pulled me out of the ring, “stop fighting me!” He growled out. I rolled underneath the bottom rope, Jimmy, Jey, and Solo following suit. Paul Heyman was already close by Romans side, a sickening smirk on his lips.

“Step ya game up fuck boy!” Roman laughed into a mic, Seth wobbled to his feet, a look of confusion and hurt in his eyes as he watched Roman retreat with me. He tugged me along up the ramp, and into the back. No one said anything, he had that much pull. I passed Naomi on the way back, she gave an apologetic look, but I remained quiet. I felt like we had been walking forever till we reached a door with a sign that read,‘Tribal Chief Roman Reigns,’ indicating their private locker room. It was a nice set up, better than Seth and Cody’s I knew that much. A dark brown conference table centered the room, a nice layout of fruits, vegetables, cheese, meat, and crackers on a table off to the side near a mini fridge. A tan colored sofa on the other side near large ceiling to floor windows overlooking San Diego. I walked over to the windows, it was a long night, and all I wanted more than anything was to sleep. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing, scrolling through my notifications I saw they were mostly Seth and Cody blowing my line up. Then an endless stream of tweets about what everyone just witnessed, I bit my lip trying to stifle the giggle that pressed against my lips. I exhaled, then tucked my phone back in my jeans.

“Alright Uce, we got a match in a little bit.” Jey informed Roman, I always found their dynamic interesting. If Roman had a favorite twin, I put all my money on it being Jey. I’m not totally surprised, Jey is a sweetheart, and more reserved, the complete opposite of Jimmy, who’s always trying to get a laugh out of their cousin.

“Go…take Solo with you, knowing those clowns they’ll be tripping over each other to get back at us for what just happened.” He sighed, Jinny tried to slap hands with Roman, but was met with an annoyed expression.

Jimmy slapped his own hand, smiling sheepishly, “yeet.” Solo stared at his brothers, a disappointed stare in his eyes, wordlessly he exited first, Jey clapped Jimmy on the shoulder then followed behind their baby brother. “Damn, y’all wait for me!” Jinny called after his brothers.

I shook my head, My gaze landed on Paul who was watching me with curious eyes. I lifted an eyebrow at him, but neither of us said anything.

“Ah, my Tribal Chief.” Paul called to Roman as if he just remembered something.

“Yes?” Roman turned to the wiseman, a small smile on his lips, and his shoulders more relaxed in comparison to earlier.

“I have a few business calls to make, may I be excused?” He asked ever so politely, I had to repress the urge from rolling my eyes. As sensitive as Paul is, the incoming revelation will shock him the most I’m sure of it.

“Of course, take your time, actually if I need you I’ll give you a call.” He patted Paul on the shoulder with his free hand, Paul turned and gave me one last look, his stare lingering longer than it should have. Roman stepped into his line of sight blocking his view of me.

Paul bowed respectfully, “My Tribal Chief.” Then he left, leaving just Roman and I. He slowly turned to me, our grins grew simultaneously, I skipped over to him, and threw my arms around his neck.

“When I met you all those years ago…I never thought you were an evil genius.” Roman chuckled, then kissed me on the nose causing me to let out a giggle, then pressed my lips to his.

“All pretty girls are secretly evil.” I laughed, I took him by the hand, and led him over to the sofa. He brought me into his lap, “and then when we finally reveal it all to them, Cody and Seth will crumble.” My hands caressed Romans face, I loved how his eyes softened when he looked at me, and now that we finally had alone time I could stare at him as long as I wanted uninterrupted.

“Seth is an idiot.” He mumbled between kisses, his face buried in my cleavage, he inhaled my scent, then let out a growl. His hand slid up my thigh to my waist trying to feel any exposed skin he could. All that pent up energy from not being able to touch each other for so long was starting to unravel.

“Mmm we should save it for later, we’ve got a whole weekend after all.” I moaned out, Roman swept my hair behind my shoulder, then trailing sloppy kisses up my neck to my cheek. His large hand gripping my breast nearly ripping the flimsily lace top.

“Ugh, you’re right.” He looked down at his watch, the show was pretty much over at this point, and Jimmy, Jey, and Solo were traveling together. I grabbed him by his beard, kissed him softly one last time before getting up, and crossed the room to nibble on the plate of food Roman had. A knock came from the opposite of the door ruining my current mood, nevertheless, Roman opened the door to reveal Paul Heyman on the other side.

“Everything is set to go for your time off, is there anything else you need from me my chief?” Paul asked.

“Nah, I’ve got it all handled from here wiseman, let’s get goin, the sooner we’re on the jet the better.” Roman reassured him, then Roman grabbed me by the arm, and pushed me ahead of him.

Paul gave us a perplexed look, “um, my Tribal Chief…she’s coming with us?”

“Are you questioning my methods?” Roman paused, turning to the wiseman, his tone gave no room for argument, and Paul was keen on that.

“Oh absolutely not.” He responded without hesitation, his eyes darted to me, but my eyes were on Roman. If the direction of things were changing, I would wait for his signal; I suggested he let Paul in on the plan Roman wanted this as close to the chest as possible.

“Good.” Roman pushed me gently forward, “walk.” He ordered me, I did as told, turning with my head down to hide the smirk forming on my lips.

After we finally made it onto the Jet, Roman took a seat directly across from me, and Paul took a seat towards the back. I placed my hands on the table, he reached for me, his fingers caressing my skin. Letting my head fall back, and closing my eyes, I finally relaxed enough to fall asleep. The days to follow are gonna be nothing but sunny skies and beaches.

#roman reigns x black oc #black!oc #roman reigns fanfiction #—tokio

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dependante · 2 years

Text

Kinetic (Phillip Graves/reader)

Summary: Teamed up with Graves isn't where you want to be, you're looking to make it out of the mission without incident...or are you?

Note: the reader has a callsign! (Versace)

WORD COUNT- 5k+

CW's- AFAB reader, elements of misogyny, smut, oral (male receiving), masturbation, blood and injury, wounds, use of the term daddy, exhibitionism

THIS WORK IS INTENDED FOR ADULT AUDIENCES. PLEASE RESPECT THAT BOUNDARY IF YOU AREN'T 18 +

"Well, if it ain't Versace?"

Here you were, back in the Americas once again. The sky is sunny and clear, the air is fresh, and Phillip Graves' ugly mug is there to ruin it all.

Wonderful.

"Cut the shit Graves; you knew I was the one coming. Did you expect me to deny a contract?" You spit in his direction.

Your head throbs, the flight had been long, and cargo planes aren't exactly known for being comfortable. You look over the rim of your sunglasses as you step off the plane. The height difference between you two becomes apparent as the closer you approach, the further your neck has to crane upwards.

"Well, sure, but you never know, especially with our…history." He smiles down at you, hands on his hips, teeth shining. A chronic crest strip user for sure. His men are silent behind him but shift uncomfortably at the statement, no doubt wondering who you were and why you seemed to pull out this more unprofessional side of their commander.

"Our history." you deadpan.

Being this close to him makes something under your skin writhe. Potential energy waiting to be used in some way. No other person you've met thus far has been able to make you itch the way Graves can with some inexplicable swirl of emotions. You want to see him cry.

"Yeah, baby, our undeniable tension. Gets a little hot to handle 'fraid you might be too overwhelmed to show your beautiful face." He rocks forward into your space, just enough to let you know he's holding himself back in some way. His hands stay glued to himself, however.

Good for him.

"There is certainly some tension here commander, just not the kind you think. Let's get going." You step back and turn in the direction of the jeeps. It's an attempt to keep it professional. After all, you were here on contract, and you'll be damned if you lose a good gig because of one infuriating CO.

"Of course, I'll catch you up on the way." He gestures for you to lead the way, shadows filing into the three vehicles.

You've already read the mission specs, but you don't need to tell him that.

–

The group he brought to pick you up is small. Apparently, it's only a few miles from drop-off to their base of operations here, so Graves didn't feel the need to bring out too many personnel.

"-After all, you can handle yourself just fine, missy, ain't that right?"

"Affirmative." you huff.

You're squeezed in the back of the hot jeep, stuck between two shadows surveying the landscape you pass. Who could possibly be out here is beyond you, but nothing's ever impossible.

Graves has yet to stop yapping at you, and you do your best to pay attention, or at least to seem as though you're paying attention. In truth, you're distracted. The way the men's thighs press into yours makes your skin feel alive, even through multiple layers of separation. Human touch becomes foreign on deployment; you can't remember the last time you touched another person and didn't intend harm.

You're a bit starved.

The shadow to your left jolts and shifts uncomfortably as you pass over another bit of rough terrain. He slings his arm over your shoulder, seemingly through with his arm being strangely cramped at his side. Against your will, you flush as you are pressed even further into the man. You must make a noise because Graves looks in your direction while he's still yapping.

He catches your eyes in the rearview mirror. He's too perceptive to miss how you blush, taking in the situation.

Fuck.

He gives you a small knowing smirk and a lift of the brow before he turns back to the road.

Your sweaty palms cling to the fabric of your pants.

–

The room they give you at the compound is alright. It's nice to have your own room with a lock in a building full of men who probably hadn't seen anyone but each other in months.

Yes, the lock feature is nice.

You were told debriefing would be in the morning, so after you set down your pack, you had time to kill. The prospect of a nap is tempting, but that can wait for later. Instead, you pull out your contract details and information to review. This trip was nothing major, you'd be working with Shadow company, but your task was offset from their operation. It benefits both groups to work together. Your goal was to accompany them into cartel territory and capture one of the local leaders. They were small fish in a big pond, but whatever information they got at this stage would help them reel in the real prizes later on.

Your job was to extract the ledger, transport data of their trafficking, and destroy what was left. Most of your jobs were for tech specialization anymore, the need had only grown in the increasingly digital age, and your extensive combat experience was a plus. It did occasionally irk you that it seemed like it had been ages since you’d been called in for your other specialization. Maybe it would do you good to start looking into getting with a specialist group and quitting solo for a while after this. You've heard good things about KorTac.

Research for later.

Satisfied with your review, you decide to prowl around the base to pass the rest of your downtime. Never hurt to be familiar with your surroundings.

Laswell was the one to convince you to take on the contract. Apparently, General Shepard had wanted you specifically for this. You accepted the terms, and payment was just generous enough to justify working with Graves. Of course, you hadn't known the details until you were in, but it worked out. Hopefully, it stayed that way. While he was a real ass, Graves was good at what he did and an adequate leader when he wanted to be.

You and Graves had some... Unfortunate history. You both attended basic together and advanced through the ranks at a similar speed, meaning you saw him quite a bit on base and worked closely with him. However, your experience those first couple of years was not pleasant.

You constantly struggled to find your footing and belonging, and the isolation at times got to you.

Being in a male-dominated space was rough, and you found yourself at the end of many cruel behaviors and creepy advancements as time passed. Your seemingly uptight and untouchable demeanor gave way to your nickname, Versace. "Too expensive for us to buy." they'd joke.

Graves was the same. He wasn't the worst but certainly joined in on the teasing occasionally. You'd never admit it, but there was a point in time when you quite liked him, but that passed quickly after your first actual field mission together. Turns out the two of you together, alone, was bad news.

You refused to cooperate and listen to Graves, and he found ways to constantly undermine your confidence in yourself and your abilities. The more you asserted and spat at him, the harder he would rail against you. Eventually, you both completed your mission and were extracted, but the final moments on the plane broke you. He had mentioned that you’d probably be more agreeable if you finally gave into your “innate urge” to be passed around at base like some fucking cheap barracks bunny.

Before you could even process it, the back of your hand had struck his face hard. He deserved it, but you didn't feel as though you had gained any ground when he looked at you, his hand on his cheek in disbelief. His eyes were dark, no blue visible, and his face was flushed. Whether it was all from the slap or a combination of embarrassment, you didn't know. What you did know is that his expression sent a hot zing down your spine, setting you ablaze. You wanted to hit him again, say something mean, anything to see that expression again. You felt your own face flush again, not from rage but from something else entirely. However, losing your temper further wouldn't prove or correct anything, so you turned your back to him and crouched down on one of the side benches of the cargo hold.

The rest of the trip passed in thick silence till touchdown.

–

After that, you tried to avoid him as much as possible. Graves, however, suddenly became more interested in poking and prodding at you. Eventually, it faded, and you two had gone on to separate bases. Still, the occasional interactions never failed to leave you with the same hot energy pushing you to do something, anything.

At this point you had circled the circumference of the small base, already back to your temporary lodgings. You step in and lock the door before dramatically flopping back onto the twin-sized mattress that had been provided.

You think back to how he had caught you in your desire earlier. You couldn't go through the rest of the contract like this. To deal with Graves meant you needed a clear head, and seeing as you had your own private room, well…it wouldn't hurt to do something to ease the edge off for yourself.

Hastily you tug your pants down, looking over to check that the lock hadn't suddenly opened on its own. You didn't see any cameras and honestly? You were needy enough to risk it.

The affair was nothing notable. You were going for efficiency, not luxury as you worked yourself over. Mind running with flashes of previous interactions and fantasies of the what-ifs that could happen.

What if you had done something about your desire in the jeep, if you had whimpered, made a show of yourself. Would the men beside you have done something about it? Would they have shared you between the two of them? Put you down on the ground as they used your mouth as graves watched from the driver's seat? Helpless to do nothing? You shudder, pace quickening at the thought of his desperate face, eager to pull the vehicle over.

Your toes curled, and calves tightened uncomfortably as you barreled closer to cumming. Staying quiet was becoming increasingly harder as your body thrummed with energy.

Or would he have barked at them to restrain themselves? Would he have demanded you get yourself off for everyone to look at but not touch? Would he have waited till they got back to fuck you in front of his men?

You bet he'd want you to bite back, to defy him and his orders. To grab him by the hair from behind and make him groan in the jeep, to claw at his thighs as he fucked you from behind. You wanted that too. It didn't take much longer after that, your body spasming as you reached your high, thoughts blurring together with the internal chant of - Graves Graves Graves- increasing. As you flopped back after your high began to dissipate, you realized that while exhausted, the edge had not gone away. The thoughts of Graves continued despite the lift of hormonal fog.

–

Why debrief had to be at some ungodly early hour was beyond you, especially since the operation was after nightfall. Your multiple alarms jarred you from the sleeping world of comfort. You felt gross and tacky, and a hot wash of shame overcame you as the events of last night replayed in your mind.

God, Graves? Really? You rub your palms into your eyes and groan before quickly getting up. Time to shower.

While you felt presentable on the outside, nothing felt clean on the inside, watching Graves give a rundown of the mission specs to his men. His face firm as he paced the front of the briefing room, going through slides of information and team movements for the operation. His men were focused, no doubt top-tier men in their own right. Graves did have an eye for talent and a formidable reputation, even if it pained you to admit it.

You feel ashamed. You know none of the occupants in the room are aware of your thoughts and actions last night, but it doesn't help you shake the feeling of the phantom hand around your neck. Glad mind readers aren’t real, you think, staring off to the side wall, lost in thought. It would be humiliating to give Graves the ego boo-

“-that’ll be where Versace accesses the servers.”

Your head snaps back to Graves at the mention of your name.

“Right.” You say, voice several notches higher than usual. Graves grins and goes back to his monotonous debrief.

Nice.

–

The night was going smoothly. You helped the men load up the vehicles and put on your gear, making sure to bring a small drive for data transfer along with your USB. The USB was your system killer, and it should only take a matter of seconds to permanently disable cloud storage and data retrieval once it is done.

When the time came, Graves signaled, and you headed out. The ride there was relatively silent. Occasionally Graves or the shadows would respond to some idle chatter or status confirmation over the comms.

The goal was to surround any possible exits and to take them by surprise. The less time they had to prepare for your arrival meant the more viable data you would have to collect.

Once there, the shadows split. Graves led you and a few others to the side door while other squads positioned themselves to breach at the moment they were told. Graves nodded towards you in confirmation before giving the clear.

The property descended into chaos as glass and bullets rained down from round after round shot into the building. Those positioned at the door rammed the entries down quickly, and you moved in. Thankfully the area near the server room was relatively vacant as you crept through. The few stragglers that were there were quick to be put down. A small human part of you ached at the brutality, but it quickly dissolved. Seen worse, done worse, you figured.

Graves and his men were quick to establish a perimeter, and you set out to start working on pulling data. Your fingers worked fast as the shouting and gunfire became sparse.

It seemed that the plan had worked. There wasn’t enough cartel present at the house to stand a chance against the shadow companies' numbers and strategic advantage. Despite being experienced, the surge of adrenaline that came with active field duty never failed to make you sweat. Halfway through the passcode breakdowns and login entry to retrieve the data, someone burst through the door to the small room. Graves and the two other shadows present were quick to whip their guns to the door only to see another frantic soldier step in to frame.

“Sir, we’ve got several vehicles inbound.” There's background radio chatter on the comms, probably the other shadows confirming, but it’s muted as your skin chills with nervousness.

“How far off?” Graves asks, hands on his vest gripping tightly.

“About five miles.” The shadow says.

“Fuck me” He pushes on his ear comm.

You quickly check on your progress, you’ve gotten in, which is a plus, but you were still going to need time to download and then let the virus completely destroy the terminal. You didn’t need to be there for it to happen but you would need to be here to retrieve it.

“Actual to 3-4 and 3-5 y’all see incoming?”

“Yes sir, we’re in position but we could use an extra set of eyes.” You dart up.

“Send me up. I’ve got my rifle. I can help pick a few off.” You call to Graves from across the room, feet already in motion as you grab your kit balanced in the corner.

“No can do. You’re here to get that information.” He doesn’t sound at all happy to hear your suggestion, and you can hear his heavy footsteps behind you as you tighten your tactical vest. You turn around to meet him head-on.

“I don’t need to be here for it to work. Keep it guarded till I come back.” You push past him walking in the direction of the Shadow had come from.

“Absolutely not. You’re staying right here.” He barks, tugging you back by a vest strap. You whip around, face inches from him this time. The thrum of energy now a harsh buzz as your eyes stare directly into his.

“Who do you have to spare that's a better shot than me right now? No one, so step out of the way.”

His mouth twists and brows scrunch in anger. You wonder if he’ll waste precious time just to prove a point. You don’t stick around to find out. You yank around and storm out the door with the Shadow. He leads you in the general direction before heading back to cover another entrance.

To get to the roof, you have to climb up the shoddy temp ladder on the outside of the building.

“This is Versace to 3-4 and 3-5. I’m on my way up.”

“Got it, we're on the northwest corner, would appreciate you catching the east."

"Copy, be in position soon."

Once up on the roof, you situate yourself on the roof and locate the position of the two other shadows before finding the direction of the incoming vehicles. 5 incoming trucks, two with turrets and men positioned on the backs of all of them, looking to take out potential snipers.

You'd have to take them out before they do you.

“Actual, what’s the situation.” You hear Graves ask over comms.

“Five incoming sir,” 3-4 answers.

“Do what y’all need to do. Once they get close enough, we’ll help yall with ground cover. Clear?”

“Yep yep” You hear multiple affirmatives over the mic before confirming yourself.

The vehicles were close enough now that you could try to take out the wheels on the first. You plant yourself firmly on the ground spreading your legs for the oncoming recoil. Training and practice had made your core and upper body strong enough to handle your rifle.

You shoot. It lands, blowing out the front left tire and causing the vehicle to flip. The other vehicles keep moving, you see the men on the backs tense and aim in the direction of the building. Before the first turret can even fire, the gunner’s blown off the back by a shot.

You and the two other shadows get a few more good shots before you hear a startled “ fuck-” but before they can finish, your spot is literally blown.

You're flung back from your position, ears ringing as you try to regain control of your limbs.

Grenade launcher. Those fuckers missed someone pulling a grenade launcher.

It missed you by just enough that it didn't cause any severe damage, but it did manage to make your brain feel like fucking soup.

“Versace, check-in, check-in,” You hear Graves' irritating voice faintly come back into focus as the ringing subsides enough to hear him over the comm that had fallen out of your ear. You groan and put the earpiece back in before responding.

“I’m here, moving off the roof.”

“Come get the drive, do not engage any further,”

This time you don't argue, too sore to think. You can hear gunfight from the ground and think that some of the cartel convoy probably made it to the building. You drop off the ladder less than graceful, quickly sneaking back to the location of the server room when a figure steps in front of you. You don’t get to process the movements before there's a knife pressed to your side and a low voice speaking to you.

“Where is your leader.”

“I don’t know where he is,” You grit out.

“Lie.” He digs the knife further into your side, the end angled under your vest to ensure that one wrong move would end up in severe internal damage. You hear the other men faintly on your comms, it seemed like they were picking them off but it wasn’t enough time for them to find you before you’d be gutted.

Fine.

“Ok, ok this way,” You start to lead him to the server room. You know Graves probably left only two shadows if that to stay with the drive while he went to deal with the oncoming issue.

Somehow you were going to have to break out of his hold.

You pass a lounge room, and there’s a side table with a lamp. It might provide you enough distraction if you can reach it, but before you can, yelling catches the attention of your captor for just a split second.

That’s all the time you need, the knife slides along your side painfully as you maneuver out of his hold and bend his forearm back as far as you can. The bone snaps and he screams as you kick out his knee so he crumples to the ground. He flips to his stomach and grabs at your legs, trying to pull you down to the ground most likely to beat you senseless.

Thankfully he was stupid enough to have left your holster on and you don't hesitate to unload a shot into his head. He falls on his face motionless. Your side burns as you hobble to the server room. As you expected, Graves had left, leaving a sole shadow at the door.

“What the fuck happened to you?” He calls, taking in your disheveled state.

“Apparently no one can see a fucking grenade launcher before it takes out a teammate.” You grumble, you check the status of the download and destroy process. It’s finished. You grab the drive and watch as the display immediately blue screens as you pull it out. Your job is done.

It sounds like the shooting has once again died down, and you take a moment to lean back in the chair but grimace as pain shoots up from the cut on your abdomen.

“You wouldn't happen to have anything on you to wrap this would you?” You ask.

“Yea I do.” The man pulls out some gauze from one of his pockets and comes over to help you.

“What’s your name?” You ask.

“Isaac.” He says, kneeling in front of your chair to help wrap the temporary gauze around your waist.

You hiss as you lift your hips and pull up your multiple layers to give him access.

“Thanks Isaac.”

“No problem.” You can’t see his expression through his ski mask but as he looks up at you his eye crinkles the only indication he’s smiling.

You hate yourself for it, but you blush. Man, you need to get some action soon or you fear your turn into a wild animal. It's in this position where Graves finds you. Hips lifted and shirt hiked up while one of his men kneeled between your legs. Something hot flashes across his face before he starts laying into you.

" This is why you listen to me, if you had just stayed here you wouldn't have had any issues."

Isaac pats your leg and scoots back, letting you know he’s done with your wrap. You move to get up, wincing but pushing through just because you can.

"I wouldn't have had issues if your men had actually watched my back." You hold up the drive to Graves.

"Let's just get going."

He stands there for a moment looking at you.

"Men, let's get goin' load everything up." He barks.

Affirmatives follow as the men file out the doors back to the vehicles. Graves walks with you as you start to walk out, arm grabbing yours.

"This ain't over just so you know." You brush him off.

"Yeah yeah."

You get into the backseat and shut the door on his face. Wonder if he'll pop a vein when you get back to base.

–

After an actual patch-up and cleaning of your side, you head to the room where Graves is most likely still waiting for you. You both had to report to Shepard, and he had to wait for you to do so.

As you thought, Graves is sitting in one of the chairs in the meeting room, back turned to you. A bit petty of him not to acknowledge you as you come in, but you don’t mind. It scratches the childish itch to win. You had successfully gotten under his skin.

He hits the call button wordlessly, and you two wait for Shepard's face to appear on the screen in front of you. Eventually, the call connects, and Shepard starts in on you two.

“Commander Graves, did you successfully capture the two cartel members we were after?” He doesn’t even acknowledge the both of you before starting. Rude but expected.

“Yes sir, the two are currently here on base.”

“Good, any issues?”

“We had some unforeseen company at the end, but we took care of them.”

The general looks displeased at this development.

“Find out how they knew we were there.”

“Yes sir.” Graves replies.

“Versace.” Shepard focuses his attention now on you.

“Yes, sir?”

“Did you get the data?”

“Yes, I successfully cleared their cloud and systems too, once the download was complete. That data is virtually lost for them.”

“Leave the drive with Graves.” His demand leaves no room for debate but-

“-My contract is through Laswell sir. I’ll leave the drive to her as stated in my contract.”

General Shepard doesn't seem pleased with your pushback, but says nothing more. He looks back to Graves.

“Graves, we’ll talk tomorrow, signing off.”

The call disconnects, and the room quiets once more.

“Sooo im gonna rest up now,” you say, peeling your back up off the wall you've been leaning on.

Graves swivels in his chair to look at you, legs spread. Why you had expected him to drop the childish act and talk you don’t know.

“Right, good work. I’ll be gone by tomorrow afternoon. Good seeing you, Graves”

He stands, still wordless, and walks in your direction.

Now you're annoyed. His silence is annoying and his stalking over to you is slightly creepy, but you don't cower away, standing still as he approaches you. You aren't scared of him, but you find yourself leaning back again on the wall for support.

“Graves, what’s your probl-”

He gently pulls your shoulder towards him, and you comply, letting him turn you to face the wall before you feel him press lightly against you, breathing heavily. You grin.

“Pent up that badly, Graves? I would've thought for sure you be sticking yourself in anything that walks for the last couple of years.”

“I'm more selective than that.” He murmurs into the space next to your ear, your skin involuntarily filling with goosebumps.

“Well what exactly are you looking for?”

“You.”

You scoff in disbelief.

“Find some secretary to get your pathetic dick wet, Graves, and get off my ass.”

He doesn't. Instead of the disgust you should feel at the situation, you only find yourself growing excited. A ball in your stomach is forming the longer this goes on. Some part of you says “ yess this is the resolution we need” . An involuntary shiver goes up your spine, and apparently, Graves can tell exactly what that means.

–

He presses you further into the wall, the wound in your side throbs, and you groan.

"Been callin’ you hard to get all this time, but that's not it really, huh?" he rasps into your ear, breath hot against your face and his stubble now rubbing raw into your skin as he drags his scruff against your cheek.

"You just wanna be tossed around and told what to do." Your breath hitches as he pulls and gropes at your sides, rocking you back and forth across him.

"Wanna get fucked in front of my men?" You gasp as he sticks his hand down the front of your jeans, the sweat making it hard for him to pull them down.

"Or is it that you want them too huh?" The harshness mixed with his words make you throb. It gives you away.

"Come on, baby, say yes? Give in to daddy."

You make a noise then, one that sounds needy and small in all the ways you aren't at his words. Your head spins and your skin is alight. His hands are still taking. There is no softness, only possession as he pulls you into his body, one hand roughly petting you below and the other pawing at your chest through your multiple layers. All you can do is weakly pry at his arms and whine. For what you aren't sure.

"Boys will never believe I made your uptight ass speechless. They've all been theorizing what you're like in the sack since day one." Your knees feel weak at his words.

"Yea, baby? Like that? Like knowing everyone wants to touch, but no one can have? No one but me, huh? Who knew with a little push, you'd be such a slut." Your mouth waters, lips, shiny with your spit, open to gasp as he continues to grab at your body.

"Fuck you." You say.

It's an entirely broken statement. Said throatily and without any real bite. Graves chuckles before roughly pushing you to your knees.

"I plan on it." He unbuckles his belt and hastily takes off the holster attached at his waist to free himself. He strokes himself as he looks down at you. The ground is unforgiving on your knees, but it's the furthest thought in your mind at the moment. All that you can focus on is the drag of his hand up and down, and he sees it.

"Baby, we haven't even done anything, and you're looking a little dull behind the eyes." He laughs meanly.

"Is the view that good?" You nod, and he groans.

"Go on, touch it."

You lick your palm before pushing off his hand to replace it with yours. His chuckle turns into a groan as you quickly work him over. His hand flexes in your hair as you draw back to spit on your hand before starting up again.

You can't think, the pain in your side hasn't gone away, but it's only fueling your desire at the moment in some twisted masochistic way. The adrenaline from earlier hasn't worn off, leaving you in a hazy state of just raw feeling.

The sounds coming from Graves leave you frazzled, and you feel your exposed nerve endings frying. He must've grown greedy as he tightens the grip on your hair to angle your face upwards.

"Open" he says.

You comply, jaw slack and tongue out.

He taps himself against the tip of your tongue before suddenly pushing in. He crowds you back again against the wall till your head slightly bounces off the cold surface each time you come off for the air. Or, at least, the best you can with his grip keeping you in place as he uses you.

You choke and gag, forgetting the exposed nature of your situation, till you hear a group of voices draw near.

Your eyes widen at the realization that you could very well get caught in the act with Graves, but he doesn't relent. If anything, the heavy footfalls and loud voices of his soldiers push him into you faster and deeper, and you try to continue as silently as possible. It doesn't work.

One ill-timed wet choke draws silence from the group of men outside the door. You swear your eyes roll into the back of your head as Graves throbs in your mouth, and you let out a quiet moan.

The men laugh and bang on the door before moving on, still jeering and making comments, but their voices quickly fade away, as fast as they had appeared and Graves takes it as his cue to pick up the pace. You never once moved your hands off of him, and you dig your nails in the faster he gets.

"Bout to cum baby, you gonna swallow for me?"

You moan an affirmative, and he stutters, rhythm broken as the slight vibration does him in. His release is bitter and salty but you don't even process it as you mindlessly swallow. As you flop your head back against the wall, you're pent up beyond relief. The pants from both of your chests are the only noise as you both recuperate. Graves looks down at you and wires his thumb across your face, gathering the mess that had accumulated before wiping it on his pants.

"C'mon, up you get." He says as he pulls you up to your feet. Your legs are numb, feeling rushing back with an uncomfortable pin-pricking sensation, and the wound on your side throbs. With no distraction from it this time, the pain zips through you. You whine your complaints into his chest. Wasn't he going to take care of you?

“None of that now, come on.” He grunts, tidying you up and firmly gripping your shoulders, bringing you back to the moment. You could almost cry.

“Be good, and we’ll see about me returning the favor later on, yeah?”

Graves pauses and waits for your confirmation. He wants to see if you're ok with this.

You are, and so you nod. He grins.

“Alright then.” He opens the hallway door and guides you back to your room. He doesn't enter, but once your form flops on the bed, he turns the lights off for you and moves to shut the door.

As he turns to leave, you call out to him, voice raspy.

"Next time, I'm ruining you."

He chuckles.

"Look forward to it, sweetheart."

My first fully finished reader insert! Please let me know what y'all think I'd really appreciate it 🙏

#cod mw2 x reader #phillip graves #cod mw2 #phillip graves x you #phillip graves x reader #graves x reader

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yellowocaballero · 1 year

Text

Is Dick Grayson a Good Person? Slade Wilson's Opinion Fails To Count.

“You realize that this frees you.”

“Gotham’s not a chain!” Dick snapped, before he even had the opportunity to control himself. “I put half my life into that city and I won’t abandon it just because everybody else in your stupid country has! It is a starving child, it is not a burden.”

Slade’s lip curled upwards. Dick wondered if he had fallen into a rhetorical trap. “Defensive. I was referring to your obligations towards the Batman.”

“Batman isn’t dead,” Dick said coldly. “You won’t get that lucky.”

“But you are far out of his reach.” Slade folded his arms on the table, eyes glinting. “As you said, there’s not much work you can do for him now. You’ve always found the task distasteful. The lying. Prioritizing Batman’s mission over the greater good. You can remove the mask you wear. However necessary the subterfuge was in the past, it’s hardly necessary now. You can do what you like. And you’ve never liked your job. You’re free.”

So I did that thing I always do when writing a bugfuck huge story and wrote a smaller story off it for fun. Normally I'd save this for much later, but this time I thought I'd be fun to post it before the main story and have it be a teaser. I think this very short slice of the universe must be really fun to read if you have no idea what the hell's going on!

I think by the end of it you can get a good idea of what's happening. This will be more difficult if you aren't familiar with certain Batman plotlines. This one requires some basic Teen Titans know-how to fully get, but I can offer a Cliff's Notes if requested.

Very short 5k mystery under the cut.

He was standing in the gift shop.

Just standing. He wasn’t scrolling on his phone or pretending to browse or doing anything that would keep him remotely invisible in the crowd of children. He stood in front of the back door to the gift shop that led into the main Tower building, hands in his pockets and aimlessly looking around. Zero fucking shame.

“Why didn’t he just call?” Gar hissed. “That’s why we have a phone. That is the purpose of phones! What’s his purpose? Annoying us to death?” He glanced back at Joey, who was looking thoughtfully at the screen. “Uh. No offense.”

“For the last time, please do not censor your words for my benefit,” Joey signed, eyes crinkling in faint amusement. “He’s a difficult person. Nightwing, I’ll go down and speak with him.”

Dick was too tired for this.

He hadn’t been sleeping well, or at all. Gigantic fucking surprise, that one. It was worrying Kori. She was looking at him now, with her eyebrows furrowed in that increasingly familiar way. She barely looked at him normally anymore.

For the five millionth time, Dick thought that he ought to break up with her. For five millionth time, he decided it wouldn’t be worth it. Maybe next time.

He adopted a Leaderly Thinking Pose anyway, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip. It was his genuine body language while he was solving a problem on the ground as Nightwing, but he had to force it now. He really just wanted to stare blankly into space now. “If he wanted to speak to you, Joey, he would have randomly showed up on your balcony.”

“He also never wants to speak to you!” Danny piped up. Pantha flicked him on the temple. “Ow! Child abuse again!”

Vic’s eye twitched. “No horseplay in my security booth, guys.”

“Oh, but horseplay literally everywhere else is fine?” Donna asked archly.

Gar grinned. “Horseplay? You call that horseplay? I can show you -”

“Do it and you’re dead, little man!”

“But I could be a little horse! Just a little one! Shetland pony!”

Dick was way, way, way too tired for this.

“If he had actually wanted to speak with us, he’d just show up.” Dick resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Standing in our darn gift shop’s a message. A ‘come out and play’ thing. It’s a…”

“Power play,” Donna sighed. “The Slade Wilson special.”

“Which means he wants to talk to me,” Dick agreed. He stepped away from the console, waving the sweaty young adults out of his way as they tried to make room in the overstuffed security booth. “I’ll be back.”

An awkward silence fell over the assembled group. Dick forced his way back into the hallway, leaving the others to trip over their feet and follow after him, but the sound didn’t obscure Panthera whispering a question in Gar’s ear.

“Uh,” Gar said, furry green ear flicking, “I’ll tell you later, yeah?”

“Oh! I know this one! I got it!” Danny thrust his hand in the air, ignoring Panthera grabbed him by his collar and physically towing him along. “Slade Wilson kidnapped Nightwing from the circus when he was twelve and taught him how to be a super-badass bounty hunter mercenary! But then Nightwing was like - no way, Jose, no mercenary looks this good in Spandex. Lookit my toned butt. So Nightwing made a break for it and decided to use his ill-gained skills in pursuit of heroism and justice and making me clean my room -”

“So if I look inside your room, it’ll be clean?” Donna asked mildly, and Danny froze. “If I go in there right now, it’ll be sparkling? Just like you said it was? Because if you lied, I’ll have to take you off -”

“Give me ten!”

That successfully got rid of Danny. Panthera obviously had a billion more questions, but after Gar whispered something back she nodded and peeled down the hallway in the opposite direction. Dick finally made it to their cavernous living space, stuffed full of couches and empty soda cans and video game systems. The familiarity and safety didn’t make him feel any less claustrophobic.

The Tower had been his home since he was eighteen. He had never moved out or gotten his own place, choosing to live on site like their more vagrant members. Nowadays he spent most of his time at Kori’s place, to the point where he might as well be moved in already - but the Tower was still Nightwing’s home. The Titans were still Nightwing’s family.

“Love, please wait,” Kori said, and because it was her he stopped.

He turned around to see his friends in front of him, and realized for the first time that they all looked worried. Kori, Donna, Gar - old and familiar expressions on their faces.

“I really hate that guy,” Gar muttered, glaring at the floor as his tail lashed. “How does someone get worse the less evil they are?”

“Somebody may be a ‘good guy’ and a bad person. Or somebody may be a ‘bad guy’ and a good person. Evil or good - I believe it has little to do with your character.” Kori turned to Dick, and Dick forced himself to meet her eyes. “Nightwing, you do not have to meet with him.”

“Kori, he’s not going to leave until I -”

Kori grinned. Like Gar baring his teeth was a grin. “I would enjoy the opportunity to remove him myself.”

“There’s no need for violence.” As much as he loved to see it in Kori, he would like to avoid traumatizing schoolchildren. “God knows I’ve talked to him enough times, one more won’t kill me. It’s the fastest way to make him go away.”

“That’s not the point,” Donna said sharply, crossing her arms. “You shouldn’t have to be left alone with the man who kidnapped and abused you as a child.” Dick flinched hard. “We’re your family, Dick. Let us protect you from him.”

Her words made Dick sick. He let them see it. They’d misattribute the emotion. They’d attribute anything to anything they wanted. And it wouldn’t matter if Dick had never said a word. That wasn’t what they would remember.

“If I have to hear the word ‘apprentice’ from his gross yellow teeth one more time, I swear I’m going to turn into a horse and bite him.”

Kori turned to Donna. “Please let me kill him.”

“Dick already said no.”

“We can all outvote him.”

“Joey would make that kind of weird, Kori.”

“Joey will live.”

“And Slade won’t!” Gar said cheerfully.

There was something Dick didn’t know how to admit. Thankfully, he didn’t have to. “He didn’t kidnap me and he didn’t abuse me,” Dick said evenly. Frustration flashed in everybody, even Kori, but the denials were important. The denials wouldn’t make them forgive him, but they would keep him out of any potentially illegal waters. Dick knew the value of a technicality. “I wish you guys wouldn’t make those assumptions.”

“Assumptions are all we have!” Gar protested, throwing out his arms. “You still haven’t told us anything! Like, you don’t have to, really, but - all we have are the weird scraps you drop, and the picture is super worrying. Everything you have told us is scary as hell. If we’re misunderstanding, then why can’t you just -”

Scary? Scary? They’d said it a hundred times, and he’d never disagreed - out of context, the way everything slipped out, he knew what it looked like, but even Dick wasn’t perfect and even that was too much to say. They’d said it a hundred times and it had never bothered him before, but today - now -

“Thank you for worrying, Gar.” Dick smiled, warm and sincere. “But I can handle one old friend. I’ll be back soon.”

“Love, I don’t -”

Dick cut her off by kissing her, and he left to get changed with no more fanfare. There would be no need to go downstairs and talk with Slade, or to coordinate a meeting place. They knew each other too well for that.

He didn’t relax until he was out of the tower in his civvies, the clothes that felt almost alien on him. The suit had felt alien on him for weeks. Everything was alien on him. Everything was alien - even his home, even his family. His world, shifted irrevocably to the right. The United States of America, two million people short.

Dick piloted the boat back to the mainland in silence. The boat had a video camera in it too, so he did nothing but stare at the waves.

The reserved room was under the last name ‘House’. Ha, ha. Never let it be said the man didn’t have a sense of humor. Dick was proof enough of that.

The Japanese restaurant was upscale, but it was their regular haunt. Slade was in Japan for business frequently, Dick had spent a vaguely traumatic but extremely educational summer studying under a master there, and Jump’s very sizeable Japanese population had resulted in some authentic restaurants with private back rooms for business deals.

Slade was already waiting, which was a surprise. Maybe he already had gotten in his power plays for the day. Unlikely. Normally he liked to make Dick wait twenty minutes. Maybe he had picked today to be unusually kind and considerate. Even more unlikely.

Without looking up from his phone - undoubtedly working, the man never stopped - he said, “The sake’s poisoned.”

Dick glanced at the innocuous bottle on the table and the two stacked bowls next to it. “My enemy or yours?”

“Mine. Don’t worry, they don’t know you’re here. I’ll resolve this after we’re done here.” He put his phone face down on the table, looking up at Dick for the first time. “You look quite well. Funny.”

“Let me guess,” Dick said wryly, sliding into the seat across from him, “you’re about to congratulate me on my lying skills again?”

“I’m hardly effusive with praise.” Slade reached into his jacket and pulled out his own flask, taking a bowl and sloshing a dark amber liquid onto the porcelain. “And I thought the term was ‘performance’?”

“Performance is the word for you this morning.” Slade held out the bowl to Dick, who held up a hand. Slade shrugged - your loss. “Was embarrassing me in front of the entire team really necessary?”

“Was it fun?”

“Are you an asshole?”

“It was a favor,” Slade said archly. He tipped the bowl into his mouth before setting it aside. “Which is why you’re here. Because you recognize the favors you owe me.”

“And you recognize the blackmail I have on you,” Dick said sweetly. Slade’s mouth twitched backwards a little. “I think last time we established quite well that we are at a standstill, Slade. What did you call it - an impasse?”

“If we are at an impasse, then why did you come?” Slade twisted the cap back onto his flask. Dick was silent. “Joey well?”

“Very. Talia?”

“Unhappy.”

“Unsurprising.”

“She asked me to check in on you,” Slade said lightly. “See how you were doing.”

Dick snorted. “Is that why you came?”

“Yes.”

Dick stopped short.

Slade half-smiled. Point to him.

Then there was a knock on the door, and when the waiter walked in Dick expected to be asked for his order or given a menu. He wasn’t expecting the waiter to bring the entire meal, including Dick’s order. Mapo tofu extra spicy. His favorite. That explains the power play. If it wasn’t obvious, then it was hidden. No situation in which there wasn’t a power play. Fantastic.

“Okay,” Dick said sourly, picking up his spoon. “So why are you actually here?”

“Don’t worry about the check, son. It’s on me today.”

“You are so divorced.”

“And you stink of orphan. Let’s move on from the obvious.” To Dick’s shock, Slade pushed away his own bowl of tonkatsu ramen - a working class dish for the high class man - and folded his arms on the table. He gave Dick his full attention, so heavy it could squeeze the breath from him. He almost never did that. Not outside of a fight, anyway. “How are you doing?”

Dick ate his tofu.

“There’s nobody else you can speak to about this besides me.”

Barbara. Who was even more distraught than Dick, and who Dick had been focusing on supporting instead of dumping onto. Who still believed in the police. In her father.

Alfred. Who was suffering enough.

“I’m not stupid enough to bare my neck to you,” Dick said quietly.

Slade leaned back, crossing his arms. “Vulnerability? You were flayed open to me many years ago, Dick. I have seen parts of you that even you have not seen.” Dick snorted softly. “Like will always recognize like. What’s a few words of frustration between an apprentice and his old master?”

Dick put his spoon down. Dick breathed. In one. Out two. In one.

“You don’t have to hold your temper, Dick.”

“I shouldn’t have come.”

“You knew you had to come,” Slade pressed. “You aren’t perfect. Nobody can hold all of this within themselves. You came because you needed to talk to somebody, and I am the only person in the United States of America that you can be honest with.”

“It’s ridiculous of you to act as if a lie entitles you to honesty.”

“I’m just trying to do you a favor, Dick. I’m the only person left who wants to help you.”

Dick breathed.

The first unexpected thing of the night happened. Slade sighed, rubbing his forehead in an exact mirror of Joey’s expression from earlier that day. “I’m here when you’re ready.”

Then he picked up his chopsticks and began eating. Dick and Slade ate together in complete silence. Somehow it wasn’t even that awkward. The food was good, and if you were in a room with Slade the ideal environment was silence.

He wasn’t halfway through his meal when he noticed that his hand was trembling. Dick watched it, detached and half-interested. That didn’t normally happen. He wasn’t feeling much. Certainly nothing intense enough to make his hand shake like this.

Slade definitely saw it, but he politely didn’t say anything.

He was halfway through his meal when he noticed that his careful breathing had gone off the rails. His breaths were coming in too hard, too fast. He was lightheaded. He needed to get out of this room. This claustrophobic back room in a Japanese restaurant under the name House, a grim fucking parody of his real home and family, eviscerated and dead.

Dick dropped his spoon. “I should go.”

He didn’t stand up. Slade ate his noodles.

“You did this after Jason.” Exactly this. He had done the exact same thing, down to the same restaurant. Dick hadn’t even registered. He didn’t remember the month after Jason too well. “You - you sat me down and told me that I could talk to you about it. You did, didn’t you?”

“Goodness, Dick, I wasn’t hiding it.” Slade blew on his spoon. “I remember finding it interesting. You and Joey couldn’t be more different. When Grant died, Joey only - well. Of course Joey didn’t say much. But I remember he just lay there in that hospital bed. Just staring out the window. I didn’t really know what to do. Let his mother take care of it.” Big-ass fucking shock, that one. “You, however - you, I knew what to do with. And you look exactly the same now as you did back then. Do you know who you look like, Dick?”

Dick didn’t say anything.

“You look like a man angry enough to strangle the world.”

Dick bit his tongue.

Slade looked back down at his bowl, sipping his broth. “Tell me about it.”

Bruce would be so fucking disappointed in him. But it wasn’t as if Bruce could know.

“I’m not like you, Slade,” Dick said. He forced himself to keep staring at the man instead of looking at the woodgrain like he wanted. Do not forget who you’re speaking to. Don’t let him win. Was this letting him win? Were there some battles he wanted to lose? “But I’m not like them either. They’re honest people. Their lives have been messy, and they aren’t always nice, and sometimes they don’t always do the right thing. But they are honest people. They’re guarded, but none of them are pretending to be something they’re not.”

“Are you?” Slade asked mildly. “You’re a hero. There’s no doubt about that. I believed that was the only qualification for membership into that club. Certainly not talent.”

“Yeah, I’m a hero. I’m a good person. I’m a leader, I’m a boyfriend. A son and a brother.” He would always be a brother. Jason could be dead for fifty years and Dick would still be his fucking brother. And Tim… “But I’m a soldier too. At the end of the line I’m a soldier. Which is why I’m out here playing video games and eating ramen instead of where I’m needed.”

“Batman needed his spy?”

Dick winced. He hated that word. Accurate as it was. “The world needed Nightwing. That’s what he said. I’m not much good as a spy right now.”

“You were always a very good spy,” Slade said lightly. “I couldn’t even get Terra past you.”

God. Terra. Dick had almost forgotten about that. Maybe in self-defense. “Terra was a rank amateur and a little girl. You’re disgusting, by the way.” Slade shrugged. Dick didn’t know what part of leading a gullible teenage girl into believing that you might fall in love with her if she did everything you said warranted a shrug. “So unless you have any more Terras or Amanda Waller has any more ideas, Gotham needs me more than the Titans do.”

“And yet here you are,” Slade said. “A soldier following his final order. No wonder you’re distressed. The only thing keeping you with the Titans are orders you don’t want to follow.”

“I was raised family uber alles,” Dick said lightly. His hand wasn’t shaking anymore, so he carefully picked his spoon up and started tucking into the tofu again. “Congratulations. You got what you wanted. Are we done here?”

“Are we?”

“I’m two seconds away from that sake.”

“Don’t stop on my account.”

“Oh, you wish.”

“We’re both well aware that I prefer you alive, Dick.” Great, that old power play - you’re alive only by my will! Just because it was true doesn’t mean he should lord it over him. Everybody Dick knew was alive because he wanted them alive, it wasn’t really something to brag about. “You realize that this frees you.”

Slade’s lip curled upwards. Dick wondered if he had fallen into a rhetorical trap. “Defensive. I was referring to your obligations towards the Batman.”

“Batman isn’t dead,” Dick said coldly. “You won’t get that lucky.”

Dick’s hand clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. He turned his attention back to his breathing again. In one, out two. Slade watched, amused.

It all flashed through his mind. The news coverage. Bruce’s face in that D.C. hotel room. The gossiping, the smiles. The Titans. The scorn.

They had been sympathetic. They were good people. Danny said a lot of callous shit, obviously. That kid needed therapy badly. Donna had tsk’d over it, Kori had solemnly proclaimed that it was the decision of a weak leader.

“That place is so scary,” Gar had said, shivering. “Gotham bad guys are bad guys on steroids. I can’t imagine being trapped in a city full of them.”

“And they aren’t even letting us do anything about it!” Wally had announced. That was what had really galled him - Wally hated inactivity. “Is this really the end of it? It’s so unfair.”

“There was no other outcome,” Vic had said shortly. He was the ‘cold hard reality’ one. “That plague could have swept the US. Shitty how we aren’t even trying to make a vaccine, but quarantining the place is the only thing that kept everybody else safe.”

“But to just abandon it!” Kori had said. “It’s too unfair.”

“Yeah, it’s fucked.”

“Well,” Wally had said, “nothing to do.”

“Nothing we can do,” Donna said.

“Gotta say,” Gar said, “kinda glad it’s not my problem?”

“With you there,” Vic said.

Raven had said nothing. Dick didn’t remember what he had said. He only knew that she had stared at him the whole time, and that he had to eventually force himself not to care. Raven had his number. She knew what a liar he was. She never told anybody. She’d kept every secret so far - she’d keep this one too.

Everybody had jumped to conclusions. Nightwing never said a word about why he had the skills and drive he had, why he chose their strange and unsettled life. The first person they see who really seems to know him is Slade Motherfucking Wilson, who won’t stop going on about their fated master-apprentice destiny. Who wouldn’t assume that they had a history? And wasn’t that a pretty fantasy too convenient to destroy?

Dick hadn’t lied about that. Slade had. Completely out of his ass, with full abandon. Gleefully. Called it a favor to him. Dick could do without his favors. Sometimes Dick wondered if he believed his own lies.

Dick didn’t have to say it. Slade knew. Slade knew full well, and he had only said it to make Dick see it too.

The mission was worth it now. It was worth it. The lying, the masks, the betrayal, their fake history - it was worth it and more. He couldn’t imagine wanting to do anything else.

“You can say it, Dick.”

Dick dropped his spoon, letting his fists clench in his lap.

“I already know. You can say it.”

Dick’s teeth grit together.

“I want to hear you say it. Admit it, Dick.”

Maybe Dick had been kidnapped by this man one too many times. Maybe hearing that tone of voice, a tone he only used when he had Dick at his complete mercy, ground against his mind at just the right angle and produced a spark. Or maybe Dick was just weak without Bruce - weak, when he was alone in the world - and he just wanted to say it.

“I want them to pay for this.”

Slade was polite enough not to gloat. God only knew he’d worked hard enough over the past five years to try and squeeze something half as cold out of him. “And you have to stay undercover to do so. Even now, when it’ll be more difficult than ever.” Dick nodded. “Revenge, then. What will that look like?” Dick shrugged. “You haven’t figured it out yet? Unlike you.”

“Hard to figure out something you don’t like admitting,” Dick said lowly.

“Sounds like I’m doing you another favor, then.”

“Sounds like you need to watch your mouth.”

Slade barked a laugh, making Dick roll his eyes. “Let me guess - you’ll rather die than accept my help?” Dick flipped him off, and he laughed again. “So be it, then. That’s a pity. I would have liked to know what your revenge would look like.”

“I can do it on my own,” Dick snapped, a second before he realized what that sounded like. “Christ, Slade, I’m not taking revenge on the United States. That’s supervillain behavior. I’m just -”

“Fantasizing about it?” Slade asked archly. “Thinking, dreaming, wanting? Not doing? It’s unlike you. You’ve always taken what you wanted.”

“Are you seriously trying to convince me to go supervillain right now?”

“Just trying to help.”

“Your help’s sh - not welcome, thanks.”

A dim, sunken light shone in Slade’s eye, and Dick looked away. He hadn’t allowed Dick to curse at him for those long two months. Knowing that shit from so long ago still stuck probably got him off. Asshole. Bastard. Fucker.

“It’s here if you want it,” Slade said. “It’s always been here. Just because you’ve ungratefully rejected it, thrown it back in my face, doesn’t mean it’s no longer here. For what it’s worth, I think you’re more than capable of the revenge you seek. If you’re actually willing to take it.” Slade angled his head down, one watery blue eye piercing straight through Dick. “Are you willing?”

Dick couldn’t breathe.

“My little brother is twelve,” Dick whispered hoarsely, and for once in his life Slade fell silent. “He is a little boy. And he is trapped in that city fighting Bruce’s crusade. If it doesn’t kill him it’s going to break him. And I’ll have lost two brothers in two years. Two kids. Because there’s ‘nothing we can do’. Or because ‘there’s only criminals left in there anyway’. Because of the greater good. Because some asshole in charge decided my family wasn’t worth a couple of bucks. Again.” Dick’s breath was coming hard and fast, and it took all he had not to fall. “I almost killed the man who did it. Bruce had to pry me off him and rip the knife from my hands. I can’t kill the people who did this. I would not do it. I can’t kill everybody who isn’t lifting a finger to help. That’d be - that’d be everybody. And I wouldn’t want to hurt them either.

“I keep on trying to think of a way to make sure that they wouldn’t get away with it. That the people who trapped Tim and ground Jason into poverty experience the consequences of their actions. But I can’t think of it. I don’t know how.”

Short of air-dropping them into Gotham. But that would just be murder. What with the rampant plague and everything. On top of the earthquake. And the riots. Jesus.

“You can’t,” Slade said simply, and Dick didn’t know why the words were crushing. Maybe it was just hearing them from Slade, of all people. “Those people pressed a few buttons and took a few bribes and ruined millions of lives. They will never face ramifications for that. You cannot bring justice for Gotham. The best you have now is payback. The best you can do is revenge. Is that good enough for you, Dick?”

Dick was silent.

And Slade just shrugged. He pushed his bowl away - when had he finished it? - and stood up. He reached over the table and picked up the small poisoned sake bottle with two fingers, tilting it gently back and forth. He put his hand in his pocket, angling his arm back just enough to flash his concealed gun.

“The person who ordered me the poisoned sake is sitting in a business meeting with his fellow executives. They’ve stiffed me on a payment and are trying to get away with it. Of course, nobody stiffs me and walks away. My life exists on a permanently balanced system. Everything in my life is fair. You should give it a shot. It’s quite pleasant.”

“I have better things to do with my time,” Dick said cooly.

“Ah, yes. We all best return to our lives. And you to your friends.” Slade walked past him, pausing only to rest his hand on Dick’s shoulder and bend down. His breath was hot on Dick’s ear, and Dick found himself freezing still. Another ancient reaction, persistently clinging. “Word of advice, Dick. Don’t tip your hand to your friends just yet. Your fight will only grow more complex from here. You’ll need as many allies as you can.”

Dick turned to look at him. His skin crawled at the smile on Slade’s face, at that familiar bristly stubble. Thank god Joey was identical to his mother. “Every ally I have?”

“Every one.”

They stared at each other, heavy and sour, and for the first time in a long time -

“Then I guess I’ll need all the help I can get,” Dick said softly.

Slade straightened, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Attaboy. Now, if you excuse me. Wait until the gunshots stop to come out.”

“You’re always taking care of me, Slade.”

“I told you I would,” Slade said loftily. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“No,” Dick said, “we’ve never lied to each other.”

Dick stayed seated in that room long after Slade left. He stayed seated through the murmur of voices, the first screen. They’d need to find a new meeting point.

A hail of gunshots descended over the restaurant, far away and close, and Dick finally broke into tears. Nobody could hear them over the sound of the shots, and nobody could see him in here, and nobody had to know.

He cried as long as the gunshots lasted and no longer. After ten minutes, he wiped his face and exited the room. Better hurry home. It was getting late.

They’d be expecting him.

#man sounds like tim might be in some trouble! hope he's okay ha ha ha #well we'll never know!#my writing #batfam #dick grayson #slade wilson #teen titans #I'm almost done with this bugfuck huge story #and I'm kinda worried cuz I still have to post the MK thing after Steph too #uhh yall gonna have scheduled Caballero fic every week for. a while. lmfao

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somedaylazysomeday · 2 years

Text

Na Buachaillí - Part Two

Connor MacManus x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

You run into another Irishman. What are the odds?

Rating: Explicit, lemon, etc. Minors, DNI!

Word Count: 6,500

Warnings: Modern AU, some awkwardness, mentions of alcohol, blatant flirting, discussions of consent, fingering, protected piv sex, squirting.

Previous | Masterlist

---

“Here’s your hat, here’s your clipboard, and here’s your station,” Emiliano told you, handing you each item in turn, then pointing downward as if to show the exact place he was talking about.

You accepted the red Santa hat, putting it on your head. The cheap fabric immediately made your forehead start to itch, but you accepted the clipboard and stood in the right spot anyway, offering Emiliano a polite smile that turned into a real one when he handed you a pen topped with an enormous red and green bow.

“I know, I know,” he told you with a wince. “But sometimes people like to walk away with our pens. This makes that a little less likely.”

“Or a lot more noticeable,” you added with a laugh.

Emiliano smiled at you. “Exactly! You’ve got an easy job today: this is the online pre-registration check-in. When people bring their children up for the run, just mark the names off of the list. If the kids’ name isn’t on the list, send the family over to Tasha. She’ll make sure they have a ticket and get them checked in over there. Any questions?”

“Nope!” you said with cheery determination. Emiliano nodded, gave you his cell phone number in case you had questions or problems, and left to get someone else set up.

Of all the temporary jobs you had taken on over the winter school break, this was the one you had been looking forward to the most. A hundred bucks to help set up, run, and tear down the Holiday 5K on Christmas Eve.

Setup hadn’t been much more than positioning a few barricades around the 5K course and making the cocoa for the Cocoa Run, the short race aimed for runners under the age of ten. The Holiday 5K itself had already started and the young runners were about to start checking in for their own chance at glory…. or, more accurately, their chance at a white-painted, glitter-covered dollar-store trophy with a plastic polar bear superglued to the top of it.

It was terribly cheesy, but everyone seemed fine with that. Several of the 5K runners had been wearing all white or dressed as elves. Many of the children waiting to run were wearing costumes as well. The crowd was in good spirits, most of them dancing or singing along with the stereotypical holiday music that was being piped in over the area’s loudspeakers.

The first hour or so of signing in Cocoa Runners had gone smoothly. The Holiday 5K’s website had been fairly straightforward, so most of the online registration had gone without a hitch. The few times you had a name that was missing from the list, the runner and their family were in such good spirits that they didn’t mind being sent over to Tasha instead. All in all, things were moving along better than you could have hoped.

“Connor MacManus.”

You turned, eyebrows already arching upward. Most of the competitors for the Cocoa Run had already been checked in since the race was getting ready to start. Besides that, the man who had spoken definitely didn’t have a child with him.

“Sorry,” you apologized immediately, scanning the heavily crossed-off list clipped to your clipboard. “Connor will have to be here before he can be checked in.”

“I am Connor,” the man told you.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, letting yourself take the man in. He was wearing a red jacket and matching sweatpants, along with a bushy white beard and a Santa hat that somehow managed to look even cheaper than yours was. Blue eyes sparkled at you from under the painfully fake fur trimming the hat and you turned your attention back to the clipboard.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized again. “I don’t see a Connor on my list. Did you register online? Or are you maybe here for the 5K?”

There was a pause, then the voice came again, filled with amusement. “Are ye waitin’ for the clipboard tae answer ye, lass?”

This was not Murphy, you reminded yourself firmly as your heart picked up speed in your chest. It had been several days since you had slept with the virtual stranger and you had been too busy to give the experience much thought. But the blue eyes and the Irish lilt in this stranger’s voice made you think of him.

Still, you had asked a question and it was your job to get the answer. You met his amused gaze evenly, lifting your chin slightly as you reiterated, “This is the Cocoa Run, aimed at runners under the age of ten. If you didn’t register online for it, you’ll have to go speak with my colleague Tasha, who will get you registered now. If you’re looking for the 5K, it started half an hour ago. You can still participate if you want to; there are still quite a few runners out there.”

“Th’ 5K already started?” he checked. When you nodded, he pulled off the beard. “Fuck that.”

You smiled before you could help it. The man didn’t look much like Murphy, but something about his way of speaking - even beyond the accent - reminded you of your recent acquaintance. “If you already registered, there are no refunds-”

He shrugged. “Don’t need a refund. T’is is all fer charity, yeah?”

“It is,” you agreed, dimly registering the screams of excited children. The Cocoa Run must have started.

“Money well spent,” Connor said. “‘Sides, it means I don’t have tae worry about anyone seein’ me haul ass around th’ track in a Santa suit.”

“If you didn’t want to run, why did you sign up?” you asked curiously.

“Lost a bet,” he admitted with a smile.

Ah, the smile was familiar. When he wore that smile, you could almost believe this man was related to Murphy. You hated to seem like an ignorant American, but you couldn’t help but ask: “Do you have a brother who lives around here?”

Connor’s expression immediately grew… well, not shuttered, necessarily, but certainly secretive. “C’n I ask why ye’re askin’?”

“I met another guy with an Irish accent a few nights ago,” you explained, feeling instantly stupid as you heard it out loud.

Connor’s smirk didn’t help. “T’is may be a shock, but there can be more’n one Irishman out wanderin’ th’world. I might not even know this other guy.”

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed. No matter how thin your initial reasoning had been, Connor’s sarcasm only solidified your suspicions.

“Ye don’t believe me?” he asked, sounding deeply offended in a way that you didn’t believe for a moment. “Ireland’s a small place, but t’isn’t that small.”

You hummed a skeptical agreement. “And the fact that you both have the same sarcastic wit is just a coincidence.”

“Ye know what I t’ink?” Connor asked, leaning a little closer with a conspiratory smile. “I t’ink you’re lookin’ fer someone tae replace this other Irishman. Lucky fer ye, I don’t mind a bit.”

Despite yourself, you laughed at that. You and Murphy had shared a one-night stand, nothing more. Connor’s guess made it sound like you were pining after the other man, searching for something to fill the gap of a relationship. That wasn’t your style, not even when your marriage with Paul had ended. Well, theoretically ended. The legal stuff was still going on and would be for a while, but you had never moped about the fact that things were over.

Connor shook his head at you, the puff at the point of his Santa hat flopping ridiculously at the motion. “Can’t help but feel ye ain’t takin’ me seriously, lass.”

“Connor!” someone called. “Shit, is it already over? Did I miss it?”

A figure rushed up to the pair of you. Recognizing Rocco took only a moment - his hair and beard were still wild and it even looked like he was wearing the same outfit. The only difference was that his sunglasses were pushed up into his hair, holding some of the curls back like an awkward-looking headband. It was a concession to the overcast skies, you guessed.

“Hey, Rocco,” you greeted, tossing a victorious look in Connor’s direction. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, promised Murph I’d get some pictures’a this asshole running around dressed as Santa,” Rocco explained, gesturing to Connor. “What happened? He didn’t win, did he?”

“Won th’ whole t’ing,” Connor told him proudly.

“He didn’t run,” you said at the same time.

Rocco laughed. “Shit, after all’a that, you didn’t even run? Fuckin’ hell.”

A passing parent shot Rocco a dirty look as you muttered an apology for the language on his behalf. That was the only reason you didn’t see Rocco holding up his scratched phone to get a picture of you and Connor. When you glanced back at him, you were greeted by the sight of him snapping a picture.

“I would have moved out of the shot,” you mumbled.

“Nah, you’re proof that none’a this was staged,” Rocco told you cheerfully. “Not workin’ at the diner today, then?”

“No,” you denied, but frowned. “I don’t think I am? Hang on…”

You surreptitiously pulled your phone from your pocket, balancing it on the clipboard like you were checking the date or time. Your schedule showed you the necessary information immediately and you tucked the phone away less than a minute after getting it out.

“No, I’m not at the diner tonight.”

Rocco and Connor were both watching you with lifted brows. You offered them a self-conscious shrug. “I’m working about four temp jobs right now. It’s a little hard to keep track of where I’m working and when.”

Connor’s look of surprise had turned to a deep frown. “But why are ye-?”

“Whew!” you interrupted, bouncing on your toes. “I can’t wait for this to end so I can go warm up. That wind goes straight through you!”

“Wait there,” Connor instructed, hurrying away.

You and Rocco watched him go before you turned to the other man. “Uh… If my supervisor tells me I need to go somewhere, I’ll have to just leave.”

“MacManuses,” Rocco sighed, accompanying the brief explanation with a roll of his eyes.

“So Connor is Murphy’s brother?” you asked, sensing the chance to get an actual answer. “The one he works with?”

“Yeah, that’s them. They work together, live together, drink together, fight together…” Rocco trailed, shrugging. “They’re twins. Whaddaya expect, ya know?”

You gave an impartial hum at that. If they were so close, why was Connor being so weird about confirming that he even knew Murphy?

Before you could put much thought into the inner machinations of a stranger - a pair of strangers, really - Connor returned. He was holding two cups of cocoa.

“Thanks,” Rocco said gratefully, grabbing one of them and taking a drink.

“That was fer her, ye dick,” Connor berated, giving you an apologetic look. “Don’t suppose ye’d be okay wit’ sharin’? I already added somethin’ extra to mine.”

He held up a small silver flask. You smiled, but shook your head. “I’m good, thanks.”

Rocco hit Connor in the shoulder. “C’mon man, ‘course she wouldn’t take any’a that! There could be anything in that shady fuckin’ flask of yours.”

“It’s a flask,” Connor explained slowly. “What else’d be in it, lighter fluid?”

“Nah, like…” Rocco cast about for an example as Connor signaled impatiently for him to finish. You watched the process with interest and more than a little amusement. “Like roofies or some shit.”

“Th’fuck?” Connor demanded immediately. The next moment, he was facing you, eyes pleading. “I wouldn’t do that, lass. T’isn’t anyt’ing like that. Here…”

He took a large swig of cocoa, gulping it despite the way you could see steam rising from the liquid’s surface. You winced in sympathy, but he seemed unbothered.

“Or I c’n jus’ get ye a fresh one since this idiot drank yer’s,” Connor concluded, swiping at Rocco, who took a quick step backward to avoid his cocoa being upended over him.

You laughed despite the chaos of the little scene. “It’s okay, Connor. Thank you, but I probably shouldn’t. This is a temp job, but I’m still technically at work.”

“If ye’re sure…” Connor trailed dubiously.

“I am, but I appreciate the offer,” you told him. It seemed like a good parting statement, so you were surprised when Connor and Rocco continued to stick around. Rocco made his excuses after he had finished his cocoa, but only because he had to run some errands for his boss. He bade you a cheerful goodbye, which you gladly returned as he walked away.

You watched Rocco leave, curious. “What does Rocco do, exactly?”

“Nothin’ good, that’s fer sure,” Connor said darkly. “How about ye, lass? What do ye do when ye’re not jugglin’ four temp jobs?”

“I teach high school science,” you told him, grinning at the disgusted noise he made. “It isn’t for everyone, but it’s a passion of mine.”

“So… biology and…” Connor squinted, clearly trying to scrape up another kind of science. “...Zoology?”

With effort, you kept a straight face. “Well, the zoology budget is pretty thin in Boston’s high schools, but yes to biology. I also occasionally teach chemistry, physics, anatomy and physiology, and I’m trying to convince the board to let me add a marine biology class.”

Connor puffed out a breath. “Ye’re too smart to be talkin’ tae th’ likes o’ me.”

“Everyone’s smart in a different way,” you countered. “I’m sure you know things I’ve never even thought to wonder about.”

He shook his head with a wry smile. “Pas à moins que ce soit une autre langue.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Connor chuckled and took a gulp of his spiked cocoa. “I’m good wit’ languages. Me an’ Murph both are.”

“What language was that?” you pressed, trying to remember the flowing words. “Italian?”

“Nah, but close,” he praised. “It was French.”

“That’s really impressive, Connor!” you told him. “Languages have always been a bit of a struggle for me. Do you speak any others?”

“A few,” Connor said, giving you a sideways sort of glance. “Ye like smart guys, yeah? That how ye met dat husband o’ yers? Is he a teacher, too?”

“Murphy mentioned him, huh?” you asked, trying to disguise your wince with a playful duck of your head.

“Weren’t no big deal, lass,” he brushed off. “Jus’ told me ye were goin’ through a divorce.”

You nodded, offering a weak smile. “Yeah, that’s true. But he wasn’t a teacher. He was a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” Connor repeated, sounding thoughtful. “So’s he representin’ himself, then?”

You snorted. “I wish! Paul has a high opinion of his own abilities, but even he wouldn’t go that far. He’s gotten one of his friends to represent him.”

Connor nodded slowly, but Emiliano walked up. “How did it go?”

“Perfectly fine!” you told him, giving a professional smile and turning the clipboard so he could see it. “Everyone who registered online showed up.”

“Excellent!” Emiliano told you, beaming. “Some of the other volunteers have already started taking down the 5K barriers, so if you want to go help break down the cocoa tent, that would be great! It looks like it’s going to start snowing anytime, so we’re trying to tear down in a hurry.”

“On my way!” you chirped. When you turned back to Connor, he was already starting for the cocoa tent. “What are you doing?”

“Helpin’,” he said simply, then expanded when you tilted your head at him. “Me ma didn’t raise me to sit back an’ watch when there’s work tae be done.”

“We’re getting paid,” you reminded him. “You aren’t.”

“T’is a charitable time o’ year, lass,” he told you with a smile. “‘Sides, I was hopin’ ye might want tae spend a little time together after this.”

“Yeah?” you asked. Your brain twisted what could have been a casual invitation to hang out into something decidedly different. As a result, the single word came out in a tone you could have described as ‘sultry’.

You would have died of embarrassment on the spot if Connor’s eyes hadn’t flicked down your body in a slow study that ended with a salacious grin when he met your eyes again. “Yeah. If ye’re interested, o’ course.”

You smirked, but didn’t reply. If you were reading the signs correctly, you were in for a good time before your overnight shift… though you would need to have a rather awkward conversation first.

Connor rolled with that easily, staying silent until he helped Emiliano move some of the tables. The organizer was clearly struggling, but Connor took on more of the weight without complaint. When the table was safely delivered to the truck so it could be taken back to storage, Emiliano chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Strong guy, huh? Where were you when we were setting everything up this morning?”

Connor just laughed and shook Emiliano’s hand. He preened slightly and flexed when you looked his way. “Weren’t nothin’, lass. ‘Course, I’ve always been stronger than me little brother. I t’ink it’s because he’s a smoker…” Connor shook his head in heavily exaggerated disappointment. “Disgustin’ habit, that.”

“Little brother?” you asked, ignoring the smoking comments. “I’m pretty sure Rocco said you were twins.”

“Oh, we are,” he assured you. “But even so, one’s got tae be older. And we both know it’s me. ‘Both’ bein’ ye an’ I. Murph’s in a bit o’ denial about it all.”

You hummed skeptically, but Connor didn’t hear it over Emiliano’s voice. “And that’s it for this year’s Holiday 5K! Thanks, everyone, for helping out. It’s starting to snow, so be careful. Get home safe and have a happy holiday season!”

A quick glance upward confirmed Emiliano’s words: it was indeed snowing. It wasn’t really a shock. Boston had gotten little snow showers almost every day for the past week, but there was something special about snow on Christmas Eve. A smile stretched across your face as you watched the flurries glide their way to the ground.

“Well?” Connor asked, drawing your attention away from the snow. “What do ye say, lass? Want tae keep spendin’ time wit’ me?”

You took a deep breath as you eyed him. You were never the most confident when it came to situations like this. It was considered sexy for things to be hinted at, implied… and you were someone who liked things to be extremely clear. It was possible you were misinterpreting Connor’s invitation and he really was just trying to be friendly to a lonely woman during the holidays.

But you doubted it. Why would anyone volunteer to spend time with their brother’s one-night stand unless he was interested in a similar arrangement? Of course, why would he be interested in his brother’s leftovers?

You pulled yourself from your spiraling thoughts. If you had misjudged the situation and he was interested, you were just as well off as you would have been otherwise. If you had misjudged it and he wasn’t interested, you would just be the weird lady who propositioned him while you were both wearing matching cheap Santa hats.

“I’d like that,” you agreed, but signaled for him to wait as he started to smile. “I feel like I should tell you, though: I slept with your brother.”

Despite your nerves, Connor grinned. “Believe it or not, I already knew that. I texted m’brother as soon as I saw ye. It don’t bother neither o’ us. Does it bother ye?”

You almost laughed at that. Did it bother you, the idea of sleeping with the brother of your one and only one-night stand? It probably should have been a resounding yes. You had never been one for casual sex, and there was something even more intimate about the fact that your prospective partners knew each other. Actually, the morality clause in your teaching contract alone should have been enough to push you into thanking Connor and sending him on his way.

But it had been a hard year. Paul was dragging you through the mud and you would have to deal with much worse before it was over. Sleeping with two people in the span of a week was an anomaly for you, but you weren’t going to turn it down… especially since those two people were sexy Irishmen.

You smiled at Connor. “Doesn’t bother me a bit.”

“Okay, den,” he agreed, stepping close enough that your heart picked up pace. “Can I kiss ye, lass?”

“Yes.”

Connor’s lips were soft, but you could only enjoy them for a moment before he got impatient. The small sting of his teeth nipping at your lower lip made you gasp, allowing Connor to deepen the kiss. By then, of course, you had been distracted by the sweep of his talented tongue.

You weren’t pulled back to awareness until a group of teenagers passed by, calling loud suggestions about what you should do next. You broke the kiss and rested your forehead against Connor’s shoulder. “Well, that was embarrassing.”

“They c’n mind their own business,” Connor countered. “But they do make a fair point about location. Ye want tae take this somewhere else?”

“Please,” you said with a decisive nod. “My apartment is a few blocks away from here, unless you’d rather go to your place?”

He grinned. “Murph’s stuck at work an’ we’d have th’ place tae ourselves, but it’s a bit further away than I’d like. Do ye mind if we go tae yours?”

“Let’s go,” you suggested, glancing at the sky. The snow hadn’t dramatically picked up, but there were some foreboding clouds rolling in. “We can probably just walk there.”

“Aye, I know how ye like walkin’ to and from yer jobs,” Connor agreed.

You were about to make a sarcastic comment about Irishmen owning their own cars if they wanted to drive around so badly, but he distracted you when he laced his fingers with yours. Clearly noting the breath you had taken and released without a word, Connor smirked at you. “Somethin’ ye wanted tae say, lass?”

“Not a smoker, huh?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him until he gave a sheepish smile.

“I had a smoke jus’ before I spoke tae ye,” he admitted. “But if ye kiss like that every time, I’m a very recent quitter.”

“You had a cigarette right before you were going to run a 5K,” you reminded him. “That doesn’t sound like someone who particularly wants to quit. It’s really not my business…”

“Hey, c’n ye blame me?” Connor asked with a shrug. “I knew I was goin’ to speak wit’ a pretty girl while I was wearin’ a Santa hat an’ a big beard.”

“You’re still wearing a Santa hat,” you pointed out, reaching up for the offending fabric.

Connor swatted your hands away. “Not on yer life. Not until I have a mirror an’ a comb tae fix th’ damage.”

The laugh burst out of you, startling Connor, but he joined in a moment later. You decided not to tell Connor he was attractive enough to pull off hat hair. It was true, but he probably didn’t need to be reminded of it. He seemed to have a tendency toward cockiness.

Since it was earlier in the day than when you had brought Murphy in, there were more people milling around your apartment building and you had to refrain from making out with Connor in the elevator. You did your best to make up for it with enthusiasm when you got into your apartment, though, almost tackling him with the force of your eagerness.

When you finally broke apart, your jacket was unzipped and Connor’s scarf was unwound from its original place around his neck. Connor chuckled lowly. The sound, paired with the heat in his eyes, made you shiver.

At least, until you caught sight of the time. “Shit. I have to work tonight.”

“Do ye need me tae leave?” Connor asked, sounding like the words were dragged from him.

“No, but we-” You shifted your weight uncomfortably. “This will have to be kind of quick. Are you okay with that?”

“Well, I’d prefer to take me time wit’ ye…” Connor said, eyes raking over you, “but I suppose we c’n speed it along.”

“Great,” you said with a relieved smile. “There’s the kitchen, pantry, coat closet, bathroom, bedroom.”

Then you had to pause for a second to let the strong sense of deja vu pass. You had given Murphy the exact same verbal tour. You would feel bad giving Murphy an idea of your apartment’s layout but not doing the same for Connor. Was it weird to worry about the fairness of the situation when having two single encounters with men who just happened to be brothers? Was it weirder to deny that it was weird?

The questions only multiplied when Connor went for your bedroom, letting you inside first before trailing in behind you. The last person you had brought into your room had been Murphy. He and Connor didn’t share much of a resemblance, but there was something about the way he looked, watching you and getting ready to strip off his clothing…

“Are ye okay?” Connor asked, ducking his head a little to catch your eyes. You had been staring blankly at the bed, but you had no idea how long it had been going on. “Or are ye thinkin’ about me brother?”

“Not… about him, exactly…” you hedged.

“Told ye, I’m fine wit’ it,” Connor reminded you with a careless shrug. “Are ye? We c’n call th’ whole thing off if ye want.”

“I don’t want that,” you said distinctly, feeling it ring true in your chest.

Connor hummed, his fingers toying with the hem of your Holiday 5K shirt. “Then how ‘bout, instead o’ us tryin’ to guess how the other feels, we jus’ focus on makin’ each other feel good?”

You smiled. “Sounds perfect.”

“Good. I’m gonna get ye naked now,” Connor warned before he lifted your shirt up and over your head. You did the same for him a moment later, and managed to unzip and push his pants away before he unfastened your bra. The sight of your bare breasts distracted him badly and you had him completely stripped by the time he got back to work.

“Slow down, lass,” he urged. “Let a man catch up, yeah?”

“We’re in a hurry, remember?” you asked, palming his hardening cock.

He hissed out a breath and you froze, worried you had hurt him somehow. Instead, you glanced up to find that he had paused in undoing your pants to stare at you. His blue eyes seemed darker. “I hope ye’re ready fer me, sweetheart. If ye keep doin’ that, I won’t be able tae control meself.”

You smiled at him, but it turned to a gasp when Connor yanked your pants and underwear down, then pushed you backward onto the bed as he pulled the rumpled clothing from your feet. When he stood back up, Connor pressed his hips between your thighs, urging you to stay open for him. It wasn’t a difficult choice.

With the space he had created for himself, Connor trailed his fingers across your collarbone, over the swells of your breasts, and down your stomach in a leisurely exploration that left no doubts about his intended destination.

All thoughts of being in a hurry fled from your mind as you watched him work his way lower and lower until his fingertips were parting your folds. The mildly cool air of the room felt glacial against the heat of your core, but it was only another layer of stimulation added to everything you were already experiencing.

When his finger brushed between your lips, though, you felt that sensation clearly. Your hips pressed forward reflexively, trying to push closer to that teasing touch. Connor hummed, eyes fixed between your legs, and slowly pushed that finger into you.

Your gasp felt too loud in the room, but you couldn’t help yourself. Connor’s eyes flicked to you as one corner of his mouth pulled up in a tiny smirk, but his gaze dropped again as he began to slowly pump the digit in and out of you. You could feel the way your body started to relax around the intrusion, gripping him by choice instead of in protest.

It was bliss, but it somehow became something even more when he started feathering his thumb over your clit. Your mouth fell open and you couldn’t close it, not if you wanted to take in enough air.

“Connor…” you sighed.

He hummed again, the depth of his voice turning it into half a growl. “I like when ye say me name.”

And since he apparently intended to make you say it again, Connor increased the pace of everything he was doing. It made your toes curl with pleasure, but you caught sight of another clock, the glowing numbers of the digital face burning into your brain and leaving you with a sense of frantic urgency.

“We… have to-” Your reminder cut off with a gasp as Connor pressed his thumb harder against your clit than he had up to that point. You bit back a plea. “Fuck, Connor!”

He pulled his hand free, leaving you staring up at him, bewildered. “Heard ye th’ firs’ time, lass. Short on time. Ye don’t need tae swear at me fer it.”

The humorous glint in Connor’s eyes told you that he was teasing and you gritted your teeth. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. You glowered at him, but he didn’t see it. He was too busy putting on a condom and, by the time he refocused on you, your own attention was on more important things than fighting with him.

You were still sitting on the edge of the bed. When Connor approached, you began to scoot slowly backward across the surface of the mattress, but he grabbed you around the waist. “An’ where do ye t’ink ye’re goin’?”

“Onto the bed..?” you answered questioningly.

“Ye’re already on th’ bed, ain’t ye? ‘Sides, since we’re in such a hurry…” he teased, interrupting himself as he kissed you. “I will need this, though.”

He pulled one of your pillows down the bed. “Lie back fer me.”

When you did, Connor lifted your hips, settling the pillow beneath them so your torso was flat on the bed while your lower body was elevated for him. You watched him curiously. “What are you doing, Connor?”

“Trust me,” he urged, patting your knee, “an’ tell me if anything starts tae hurt.”

You nodded, not trusting your voice enough to verbally confirm that. It wasn’t that you distrusted Connor, not in the slightest. Hell, you wouldn’t have brought him back here in the first place if you didn’t trust him. You were just worried you wouldn’t measure up to his expectations. Whatever Murphy had told him that convinced him to flirt with you, you didn’t want to be a disappointment.

Connor - blissfully unaware of the grinding of your internal monologue - grasped your leg just above the curve of your calf muscle and placed it over his shoulder. The stretch was intense at first, but eased until you were comfortable enough. That was a surprise, since flexibility wasn’t a particular talent of yours, but something about the pillow under your hips and the fact that Connor was leaning down made it bearable.

“Okay so far?” Connor asked.

You shrugged. “Not bad.”

He nodded reassuringly, placed the tip of himself against your entrance, and drove into you with one strong push. Your breath caught at the unexpected fullness, but you were a little distracted, mentally changing your opinion of this position from ‘not bad’ to ‘amazing’.

When he was pressed as far into you as he could get, Connor pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Are ye alright?”

“I’m fine.” It was the truth, too. Since it hadn’t been such a long span of time since your last sexual encounter, you weren’t struggling with the lengthy adjustment period you’d had with Murphy. You didn’t tell Connor any of that, of course. “We can keep going.”

“Be careful, lass,” Connor warned you. “I won’t be gentle. We’re on a schedule, after all.”

You smiled at that despite yourself. “I think I can handle it.”

“We’ll see,” he said, grinning. With a last nod from you, he withdrew and slammed back into you so quickly that you gasped. He raised an eyebrow, though you could see the way his muscles were beginning to tremble from trying to hold back. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, all good,” you insisted.

Connor took you at your word, setting a steady pace built up in cycles of withdrawing slowly and thrusting back in. It felt like an exclamation point at the completion of every circle and you soon picked up the rhythm, lifting your hips in time with his thrusts.

“Look so good, sweetheart,” Connor told you, voice strained with effort. “Pretty little thing all spread out under me.”

He reached out and ran his fingers over one of your breasts, giving your nipple the slightest tweak. You arched for him, supporting yourself on your shoulder blades to give him better access. “Like that, do ye? I c’n tell; squeezin’ me so tight I c’n hardly move.”

As if to prove that was a lie, Connor drove into you with a firm thrust that left you writhing on the bed. You reached out for him, but all that met your searching fingers was air. You pouted… at least, as much as anyone could pout while gasping for breath. “You’re so far away, Connor.”

“I c’n fix that,” he offered, leaning down a little closer to you. The stretch in your hamstring intensified slightly, but the burn only added to the fire burning in your gut.

Connor planted one hand on the bed beside your head, the other keeping its original position on your hips. It put him close enough for you to wrap your arms around his shoulders, feeling the way the muscles tensed and danced under your hands as he continued to take you apart with his demanding pace.

Most devastatingly, though, this angle left Connor thrusting directly against something inside you that made you fight not to openly wail. Was it your g-spot? You had heard stories from other women about the depth of their pleasure with a g-spot orgasm, but you’d never managed to find yours. You tried to memorize the exact spot where the overwhelming feeling seemed to stem from, but your mind was busy melting.

After a few thrusts that seemed to stroke that magical place directly, you could feel yourself starting the inevitable spiral. “Connor, I’m-”

Your warning was cut off as your head kicked back. You gave a hoarse gasp as the world exploded. In the past, you had read all of the cliches about ‘white-hot pleasure’ in romance novels and dismissed it as artistic license, but this was so far beyond anything you had ever experienced that it was all you could think of. Your limbs tightened around Connor, trying to hold him in place, but the rippling waves of your core only spurred him to move even faster.

By the time you could finally see and hear again, Connor was staring down at you, wide-eyed. “Are ye okay?”

“Yes,” you bit out, realizing with something almost like dread that another orgasm was already approaching. “And I think it’s going to happen again.”

“Already?” he asked, sounding both surprised and pleased.

“I think so. I’m already close.”

“Then we’ll go together,” Connor decided. You tried to nod, but the only thing you could focus on was the building of pleasure in your belly. Connor’s hand cracked over the sensitive stretch where your asscheek met the top of your thigh. “Come on, lass.”

“I can’t wait any-” You couldn’t even finish the statement before your body locked down around him. This time, it almost seemed determined to tear you apart, your muscles cramping even as they locked into the agonizing tension of a mind-boggling orgasm. Distantly, you heard Connor curse and begin to buck into your depths, but you were only peripherally aware of your body. With the single remaining scrap of rational thought left in your head, you wondered if you were going to pass out from the sheer overload of sensation.

And then it was over. You and Connor were collapsed against your bedspread, both of you lying at an odd angle with the pillow still propping your hips upward.

You couldn’t feel anything below your knees and elbows and dimly wondered if you had some kind of nerve damage. The mere thought of trying to investigate that left you feeling more exhausted than you could remember feeling, so you decided to wait and see if the feeling came back.

That was all forgotten as you felt a trickle of liquid run from your pulsing core down to your ass.

You gasped, struggling to sit up. “Connor! Did the condom break?”

Connor frowned, pulling out of you with a groan. That last bit of sensation seemed to send an aftershock through both of you and you shuddered together as you stared down at Connor’s cock.

The condom was intact, completely covering him. Connor glanced at you curiously. “Why did ye think it broke?”

“I felt something wet,” you explained, slapping him weakly when he gave you a dirty smile. “Not that. Something thinner. More… liquid. I don’t know. It was weird.”

“Ye did squirt when ye came th’ second time,” Connor told you.

You frowned. “No, I- I didn’t. Did I? I’ve never done that before.”

“Do ye usually come twice so quickly?” he asked, tucking a hand behind his head and letting his eyes fall shut.

“No, but I think you found my g-spot.”

“Did I, now?” There was a satisfied little grin playing around his mouth. “Well, they say a woman’s more likely tae squirt with a g-spot orgasm.”

You raised an eyebrows, even knowing that he couldn’t see you. “Do you know a lot about women’s g-spot orgasms?”

“I’ve put th’ work in,” Connor said. “An’ what I didn’t know, I researched. If I can’t make someone feel good, why should they keep comin’ back?”

With an unconvinced hum, you let yourself collapse back on the bed, though you moved the pillow out of the way first. After you shared the silence for a few long minutes, you heard Connor shift slightly. “Do ye really have tae go tae work tonight?”

“Yeah,” you said. Even to yourself, you didn’t sound excited about it. “Speaking of, I should probably go shower.”

“Wake me up when ye’re done, will ye?” Connor requested, closing his eyes again. “Don’t think I c’n move jus’ yet.”

You laughed despite yourself and dragged your way to the bathroom.

---

Author's Note - I would like to say this is the end, but I've wanted to write for the Boondock Saints for a long time. I'll probably end up writing more for this little story, but I'm not sure when.

In the meantime, I would love to know what you thought! Thanks for reading, have a great day!

I don't offer a taglist for adult fics, but you can find other works on my masterlist!

#fanfic february #fanfic february 2023 #fanficfebruary #the boondock saints #connor macmanus #connor macmanus x reader #connor macmanus x you #reader insert #reader insert fic #lemon #not suitable for minors #minors dni

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ddelline · 4 months

Text

time loop thursday (is back in action baybe)

blurb | so I read leaks today, like the rest of us depraved leak enjoyers, and uhhhhh. figured we might get our spirits crushed next wednesday, so I might as well make use of the sudden, violent inspiration ch260 brought me (iykyk!!!!!!)

premise | culling games; issa a short one, satoru-centric as this fic is wont to be. I'm coming back to parts I wrote as early as last sept/oct, when I published ch01, and rewriting large chunks of them. I've made a 5k dent of progress in ch02 though, so fear not the rewrites, but anyway here's a mix of old content/new writing

Admittedly, certified expertise on barrier techniques, as well as in the art of temporal/spatial divergence/convergence, knows quite limited use. Even if you’re Gojō Satoru. Which is fine in principal—he didn’t go into either field expecting to come out equipped with one-solves-all abilities.

However, Satoru thinks, annoyance sparking in his gut—supposedly such expertise has a time and a place, like everything. So it sure would be nice if he could make use of said knowledge somehow. Preferably in situations like this one, which features not one, but both concepts at snug interplay. Like, oh, maybe something, anything he’s learned could have served to indicate—to give him a subtle heads up—a trill of anticipation up his spine, a blaring alarm in his ears, Satoru isn’t picky—that this spit-shined, well-crafted barrier in fact auto-employs spatial scrambling on new player entries.

Satoru isn't a fan of stepping through something upright, blink, and realise he’s once again falling, dropping towards the ground ass-over-tits, equilibrium and spatial awareness once again taken out back and point blank-executed.

The first time hadn’t necessarily been of the barrier’s making, however for all its disorienting, space-scrambling likeness, Satoru doesn’t feel like he’s above lumping them together. For all he knows, his looping through space and time and death happens at the mercy of the same cosmic force responsible for the Culling Game.

He sucks his teeth sourly, bullies his limbs as straight as the whipping, tugging, sucking wind will allow, and shoves himself right.

It’s needlessly violent, maybe, to break his trajectory by way of subtracting for Red; pinpointing it downwards and launching it into the ground like a targeted missile. Satoru jerks with the force, is propelled upwards by sheer force. A sharp explosion cuts through the air. He stabilises himself, cushions his feet and the immediate space around him with amplification/reversal. He chances a look downwards.

Smoke and debris rises from a crater like a sharp gash in the concrete below, spiralling as from a pyre upwards on the wind.

Oops, Satoru thinks, and, right, might have to take it a little easy in here.

Surviving the Culling Game (by his own capabilities, anyway) isn’t the problem—keeping his temper in check, however, might be. He’s rarely genuinely angry, nor is he really prideful, per standard definition—to be that, one couldn’t lounge quite so high atop the apex as he innately does—however being incessantly poked and prodded at by external forces he has little to no ability to impact or counter; being constantly impacted and undermined by sheer, helpless (now there's a first time) inability to predict and preemptively act—it’s starting to stake out a space inside him; is slowly coalescing into a permanent root system at his brain stem. He is—not quite helpless, but certainly toothless. Bark, barely any bite.

It’s a startlingly potent buzz in his central nervous system. A severe itch beneath his epidermis. He resists the urge to scratch at a bare forearm.

Touching down on the ground, Satoru feels cursed energy crush down over his senses, potent and physical. Spread out though it may be, the pure concentration of curse inside the colony is impossibly dense; the layer of Infinity he’d purposefully employed before entering the barrier feels bogged down with weight. He’d feel dizzy with it if he weren’t so inherently used to it.

For most people, curse-sensitive or no, cursed energy will bog you down. It will infiltrate the spirit; cover the senses like sticky fly tape; spread insidiously through air, through touch; touch received and touch given—until you succumb to it. Cursed energy functions inherently like a toxin, or a very strong numbing agent, depending on how receptive you are to its effect; how innately weak you are to its effects. Here, at the centre of a Culling Game-colony, it’s heady almost to the touch.

To Satoru, what it is is a prime data scrape. Everywhere he looks, central Sendai—because it is Sendai; he’d gauged his location from enough small landmarks when coming down to land—brims with signature curse. It comes at him from all sides, so much different curse made into one entity, trapped as it is within the barrier, with nowhere to go except together. It rushes at him, ravenous for what he exudes; moths drawn to the Six Eyes’ gas blue flame. It’s unlike what he experienced in the Tomb of the Star; unlike Sukuna-within-Yūji, and Shibuya—this is thousands upon thousands of impressions consolidated into mass and sensation; countless participants within the colony—each with their own unique curse signature, shape and density and dexterity that’s inherent only to its owner.

Most of it is inherently unfamiliar. Satoru tracks curse traces zigzagging across the desolate, smoking-wreckage landscape. Splotchy reds, noisy magentas, sticky tar-blacks. They’re not so familiar, except—

Satoru’s breath stocks in his throat without him meaning for it to. There’s the lone imprint which overlaps others; evenly trod, headed straight, evidently cautious in pursuit—and overwhelmingly present.

It's hot pink, effervescent and glaring. It tracks sloppily, leaks across and into the rest of the standout signatures due only to sheer amount. It’s impressively meticulous. Sadly it doesn’t matter; its owner could reign it in with millimetre precision, could stalk further into the territory as painstakingly as a hunting dog caught on a scent trail, and it still wouldn’t matter for its sheer abundance.

Okkotsu Yūta is a homing beacon—blinding and overwhelming (Satoru’d implored him to work on reigning his cursed energy in, but alas; he supposes he can’t fault him at this point) where he shines a brilliant path through the derelict cityscape.

Satoru stares far down the remains of the closest had been-sidewalk. If he’s too late; if this is a timeline in which Satoru, once again, is too late—Satoru shakes his head. The Okkotsu Yūta of months ago wouldn’t be defeated by anything he can detect within the closest couple of kilometers. Nonetheless, shit happens. And does happen. Time happens, as well—even to the best of them. If it has, then he’s not so late that Yūta’s signature has winked out.

Satoru’s not a man of chance and hope, neither historically nor innately, but death—life-within-death, well, it's a bitch that comes for all. Even the best; even the most caustic and weary. Even the strongest.

#work: fic #fic: cv/sm #wip wednesday #jjk #goyuu #we back baybe #bc leaks #not rly but kind of #what can I say ch260 had A Lot and I'm just feeling it #jujutsu kaisen

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lostlovesoul11 · 3 years

Text

[A CLASSIC MOVE]

Pairing: Officer Johnny X Officer Jungwoo X Reader

Warnings: dubcon, gunplay (slight), titty slapping, blowjobs, anal, dirty talk, double penetration, jealous jungwoo/ degradation, possessiveness, spankings, spitting, officers, public sex, handcuffs.

18+ no minors!

Word count: 5k

it was pretty self indulgent, these two have been corrupting my mind for a good amount of time, johnny makes me go crazy and jungwoo... lord i just had to make him have some jealously, hits with him. This been in drafts, got too carried away x

Summary: Will you get away from the speeding ticket?

Just a usual Friday, time flying pass as you anticipated the end. Finally being able to get out of this place for once, getting in to your car. It feels great to be in the comfort of your own space. No people. No work. Just you and the escaping music. Turning the volume higher, immersing yourself in to the sounds. Feeling restless to arrive at your destination, you accelerate not caring if you're breaking any laws. You had perhaps thought, no one had witnessed the pace of your car. Looking back and seeing no signs of any kind of patrols, continuing the pace. Oh was you so wrong! Watching the blue lights appear on your rear view, you rolled your eyes. "For fuck sakes... as you sighed out, hitting your palm against the steering wheel. You finally parked on the left side and waited for the officers to approach.

Frustrated since you was in a rush to get home and be completely relaxed but no not happening! Hm what to do? Simple, this isn't something new for you at all, you pulled down your top exposing your cleavage. A classic move indeed to avoid any ticket, plus a free show for them. A win win, you thought. Thought.

You knew the speed was over the usual amount but frankly could care less. Its just a hassle having to deal with this. Tapping your fingers on your steering wheel, expecting to find the officer approach towards your car.

Hearing a knock on your window as you look up and watch 2 officers standing in front of your car. Pushing the button down to open the window, you come across an extremely tall figure. Wearing a black uniform with sleeves rolled high, you licked your lips at the sight of his muscular arms, a big boy indeed. Officer Johnny was following your gaze going from his broad shoulders below to his name tag. Kneeling down from his height, he begins talking.

"Excuse me Miss, do you know why we have stopped you here?" his eyes were almost captivating, never leaving the eye contact as he spoke awaiting for your response.

"That I just over speeded slightly, Officer?" You raised your brow watching him with your big brown eyes. You knew it wasn't "slight" at all but who cares? Trying to sound like you admit it yet almost not giving a care at all.

Officer Johnny, giving an almost serious look eyes sharply staring in to your soul. With his deep authoritive tone and slight frown on his face, "Miss, you did a 70mph at a 50mph zone, clearly is not at the slightest at all."

A exhale leaves out of your mouth which makes your chest expand, further pushing up your cleavage as you breathe out. Eyes still set on you, watching him back trying to find composure. "Fine, can I get let off this time?" You watch back almost forming a pout with your lips, thinking you could possibly get away with it.

Alas. Officer Johnny wasn't a fool, he noticed the way you pouted, having puppy like eyes as if it would change anything. Being stern as ever with his look, "I'm afraid not. Rules are rules and you broke it." he says with his authorative tone.

"Fuck sakes." Is all that forms outside of your mouth, moving your eyes upwards. Why is this Officer so persistent in you catching a fine? You're normally used to ones who, perhaps are easily bamboozled. But Officer Johnny? Stiff and stern.

"What did you say? Miss, step out the car for me". Officer Johnny had a displeasing look to his face, sounding serious as ever.

You sighed yet again. Here we go. Unbuckling your belt off, as it comes up. Opening the door open and watching another Officer leaning on to your car, tall figure as the first but when you glanced at him it seemed like eternity, your eyes just melted in his. What a beautiful looking face, like wow. You swallowed your throat hard. He looked quite intimidating, dark eyes focused on your every movement. Looking down to his plumped pink lucious lips, you salivate. Moving lower, you see the name tag. Officer Jungwoo.

Standing in front of the both, feeling daunted as ever with their eyes on you. Being in the presence of two utterly hot guys wasn't what you had in store for yourself. Pressing your thighs together when the sensitive area makes you feel a rush almost immediately.

Managing to speak up, "So what now, Officer Johnny?"

"I'm going to need you to place your hands behind your back so I could search you Miss".

Lightly touching your arms, you feel the weight of Officer Johnny from behind. The smell of cologne hits you strongly. Feeling him so closely giving you huge goosebumps. Leaning close your ear, feeling hot breath tickling you almost. A whisper. "You think i didn't notice what you tried to do earlier? classic move, a classic."

You felt yourself shiver from his words alone, slightly opening your mouth letting out a small gasp. His voice sounding almost sensual and appealing in your ears. He already noticed the way you pulled your shirt down, assuming you would get yourself a way with it. Well, that's what you thought. Completely wrong.

You watch over your shoulders, trying to see what Officer Johnny is doing. You hear his stern voice again, this time not in a whisper. "Eyes forward, Miss".

Just as your told to do, suddenly sensitive from the hands placed on your shoulders. Breathing hiking up, wetting your lips as the patting on arms continues further down to your legs. Standing there silently as you feel sensations from his touch. He slightly raises up your shirt above your waist, with slow motions. You close your eyes and groan before you realise he begins rubbing. Feeling his hands wander causing a tickle, you flinched.

Looking back to see what was happening, he speaks up with his stern voice. "Eyes forward, Miss".

Moving yourself to face the front, wondering what is happening. Officer Johnny's hands reach inside your shirt, engulfing the large breasts which fit perfectly in his hands. Rubbing them between his hands, slightly shaking experiencing goosebumps raising in your skin. You can't help but feel the wetness expanding. Leaning your head back slightly, you gasp. Hearing his slow breaths caressing on your ears.

Finally mustering courage in your deliberate and nervous speech, you gulp down your throat. "Officer Jo-hnny... what.. are.. you doi-ng.." before turning you around to face him, he slightly chuckled. "Shhh.. if I was you I would comply. You don't want to get charged for the speeding ticket right?"

He leans in closer, fumbling his hands through your breasts in slow motions. You ponder on the thought, conflicted yet aroused. Loving the way his hands felt around you, simply muttering a moan. "Mmm" you bite your lips.

He turns you around facing him, watching your eyes almost like they are begging for more. This time he begins to squeeze your breasts, rubbing his hard thumb all over your sensitive nipples. Without warning, leaning lower he gives slow licks to your nipples, gaze still fixed on you. Your rolling your eyes back in pleasure, teeth sinking in to your lips almost making them bruised. Feeling the tongue trail around your breasts, he cups them inside his wet mouth. Flicking his tongue on your nipples before he slowly sucks. Unable to contain your moans, feeling helpless. Tilting your head back even more behind Officer Johnny as he watches you in delight.

"Oh, you like that don't you?" Managing to speak out then resuming to sucking, using his tongue even more to stimulate you. All that escapes out of your mouth is a moan, eyes closed trying to relieve the feeling of arousal happening.

"Nuh uh, tell me you like it, like the whore you are". Officer Johnny wanted words, he waited patiently and watched your reactions. Feeling so much pleasure just by his mere hands, you were able to form words out of your mouth.

"Ahh.. yes". Coming out with a slight moan to your words, you closed your eyes back and indulged yourself in the feeling of arousal. Him not being too impressed with your words, since Officer Johnny is strict and stern, questioned further for a proper response from you.

"Yes what?" Giving yet another chance for you to speak with manners, he likes being authorative and wants to feel respected, yet sluts like you can be ungrateful and he may have to teach a lesson or two.

Noticing Officer Johnny absoutely not budging, increasing his flow and tightly squeezing your nipples, making you gasp loudly and speak out. "Yes.. Off-icer Johnny".

As you spoke, you felt the pressure of his hands remain slower, not tightly squeezing you instead flicking his fingers on your wet nipples. Officer Johnny loved your reaction, seeing you in a helpless situation like this, on top of having some fucking manners.

He smirked, feeling impressed. Leaning in closer you felt goosebumps all over your arms, being raised up heightening your sensations even more. "Good girl" is all you heard, biting your lips at being called it. It did something to you, you loved being praised and hearing it from his sultry voice, you couldn't help but feel a rush straight away in your heat. Fuck.

Backing away, you felt the loss of Officer Johnny behind you. Not feeling his warmness or the smell of his cologne. You felt despair, extremely needy for more. Why did he just back away like that? Constant thoughts running down your fogged mind, turning around seeing Officer Jungwoo watching you.

Unable to stop your thoughts, thinking of what he may have been thinking seeing you half unclothed, getting teased by his fellow colleague. Since you came out of your car, not once has he uttered a word. But his looks, they tell many stories. Abruptly, you watch him as he walks forward towards you. The nervousness kicked in, the un knowing of what to expect next. You found Officer Jungwoo very coldlike, detached and in awe. Slowly, not realising you take a few steps behind as he approaches you. Scared? Very.

Eventually, you bump into the car behind, stopping almost immediate in your tracks. Oh shit. Your eyes moving in different directions, blinking constantly you lick your lip as he stands in front. Its unsettling to even look in to his eyes.

He pins his both hands on the car, making it impossible to escape. You feel caged like an animal, being watched by its prey. He focused on your eyes, admiring the nervous energy that he makes you feel. Bringing his hand forward, tucking away the strand of hair that had fallen out.

"You're a pretty one, ain't you." Finally uttering something, he slightly smiled. Feeling the sensation of his hand, you bite your lip. How is his touch making you feel weak already? And receiving a compliment from him just made you flutter, not only at the heart but also below.

"I saw the way you was fucking me with your eyes", He says so calmly yet in a cocky manner. Almost freezing up not knowing how and what to respond, you begin stuttering.

"I.. I...urm..." watching in amusment as you look so caught out. Putting his hands behind him to only pull out one of his gun. A black thick barrel. Your eyes expanding, breathing exhilarating as your absoutely fearful of what is in front.

Jungwoo loved seeing you look so small standing in front of him, looking fearful. It made him feel lustful and harden his cock. Bringing it to your cheek, you felt the cold barrel move slowly towards your wet lips. Truthfully you're terrified, a dangerous situation to land in. Closing your eyes to avoid watching, squeezing your hands tight forming sweat.

"Suck" is all you hear, immediately opening your eyes. Shocked yet ridiculously turned on. You feel a lump on your throat gulping slowly. His eyes have been set on you like a prey, you have no choice but to obey his orders. Opening your mouth, allowing the gun to enter inside. A completely strange feeling. Wrapping your lips all around it and sucked, maintaining eye contact with Jungwoo.

"Mm so desperate to have me in your mouth?" Raising his eyebrow, yet having a gentle smirk appear on his face.

Officer Jungwoo takes the gun out of your wet mouth, covered with all your saliva. He brings it to your lower body, trailing towards your breasts. As he covered around, he starts roaming towards your stomach, you slightly flinch.

"So wet already, is it for me or Johnny?"

He asks, watching you closely as he places the gun on top of your soaked panties, rubbing it around your entrance.

You feel so shameful but you can't help yet grind on the barrel. Throbbing for any kind of action to occur. Cannot even contain the small moans from coming out.

"For y-you...". Hearing Jungwoo say that, just made you feel more wetness arise.

Feeling satisfied with your response, which he already was aware of, especially the way you looked at him so differently. He removed the gun from your heat. You felt the loss of something rubbing you, wanting more.

"Follow me" He instructs, having the gun position behind your spine. It made you feel a shiver being pressed on behind your back. You get escorted to the Officer's Van. As you got in, it was a pretty spacious place. Enough room for many at once. Standing straight up, waiting for further instructions from him.

"On your knees" you drop below obediently, watching sitting right in front of you with his manspreading. The sight of it looked so hot. Finally loosening his zippers, eyes growing wide at the huge bulge in front of you.

"Can your pretty mouth take my huge cock?"

He leaned back comfortably, watching you be in awe. He loved seeing how nervous and innocent you looked infront of him, sending a rush to his cock. Stroking himself with one hand he slapped his cock on to your lips, making you open your mouth.

Jungwoo was too big for you. His cock was monster like. As you put your mouth in, already feeling tears in your eyes when he shoved the remaining length in. He wanted to take it his pace, wanted to see your face wrecked. Grabbing your hair and pulling it while pushing your head down. Feeling yourself gagging, you speak.

"It-s.. to-o big.." tears running down, hair wrecked, makeup half ruined. But this is what Jungwoo liked seeing, your pretty wrecked face. His cock was hitting the back of your throat viciously.

"Keep going" he smiled. Gosh he was slightly psycho. Just wanting a mouth for him to use whatever way he liked. He knows how close he is just by having you kneel infront of him like a good girl, looking absoutely flustered and ruined.

"O shit-''... he cursed under his breath, tilting his head back with his eyes rolled over. He looked extremely fucking sexy like this.

turning his face to you, as your struggling to keep his massive cock inside. "Fuck your eyes, so puppy like, makes me want to break you apart". His pupils dilated, darkness infiltrating inside of him watching you be so helpless.

"Hey you guys started already?"

You look up seeing Johnny coming inside, watching you on the floor taking in Jungwoo's huge length.

Officer Johnny sat alongside Jungwoo, with his complete manspreading. Removing his top off, leaving his body exposed. His abs were extremely prominent, mouth drooling at the sight of them. You didn't think Officer Johnny would catch you gazing at him, at the exact same time, making your heart drop.

"Like what you seeing? Crawl over to me right now," cockily tilting his head back, amused at how thirsty you looked over him and his body. Waiting for you to make your way over.

You look up to Officer Jungwoo, waiting for his confirmation. He nods his head, allowing you to go over to Johnny.

Slowly crawling over, you stop infront of Johnny. On your knees while in some pain. Eyes are waiting for whats to be told next. Truthfully, you found Officer Johnny incrediblely hot. Wanting to pounce him already.

Johnny leans forward, proximity of you both is close. A hand follows alongside him, it felt cold and strong as he cupped both your cheeks in hard. The sudden movement caused you to whine in pain, as he gripped it rough. Using his hand, he moved your face around, watching the state of your wrecked up face.

"Pathetic". He spat.

Pushing you away from him, feeling your whole body shake.

"Hands forward" Johnny demands.

You bring both arms out, nervous as what's to come next.

Johnny gets out the handcuffs that were placed inside his pockets. You watch as he places them on your wrists, tightening the cuffs, making you whine slightly.

"Much better."

"Now, beg for it." Johnny smiles, watches in amusment. One thing about him, he loved someone begging for him, the power he felt was huge and currently is at power.

"Please.. please Off-icer.. want your cock so bad...," you watch in desperation when he unbuckled his pants, pushing his boxers down only to reveal his gorgeous massive cock. It was hard as a rock.

Johnny noticed the way your mouth opened slightly, smirking to himself. He was cocky for a reason, big guys like him were always packing below. What did you expect from him?

"Hm, what was that again?," his hooded eyes fixated on you as he used his hand to stroke his own cock, speaking in a slower pace. God, he looked incredibly hot. The way his huge hand was rubbing all over his hardened cock, ensuring each part of his cock was touched. His chest heaving as he breathed, nipples harden continuing to touch himself. You licked your lips at the sight of him jerking himself off.

"W-wanna suck your cock," you spoke out almost whiny. Your hands were cuffed so you had no clue what to do. Except, you stayed down and moved around, feeling your pussy throbbing hard than ever.

"So are you trying to imply you can stroke me better than myself?"

His voice was serious as ever. It felt like you offended him despite not trying to. Like, you couldn't ever say anything properly infront of him because Johnny would almost turn it around, manipulate you by proving himself.

"Well since we can't use your hands unfortunately," he leaned forward with his hand on his cock guiding itself towards you, rushing to pushing his cock inside your wet mouth, "this needy mouth of yours will do." You gasp loudly when Johnny forced his remaining inches inside your whole mouth, making his cock almost disappear.

A hand on the back of your head while Johnny pushed you back and forth, relieving his cock. At this point your mouth was merely a hole, to satisfy him. You kept groaning all over his cock, sobbing the pain away as he removed it out.

"Stupid girls like you want a big cock yet can't take one without shutting the fuck up. I thought it's what you wanted." he snarls. He made you give kitten licks with your tongue before he grabbed his balls dumped them all over your face.

"Lick." He commanded.

There's no lie how big and heavy his balls were. Your nose crooked in with his clean scent, licking them as much as you can. He grabs each ball and shoves it inside your mouth, your cheeks staying full of balls each side.

You just about could breathe after all of that intense deep throating and gagging on his cock.

Johnny leaned back on his seat while you sat on top. His hand roamed around your body before he removed your skirt off, your panties revealed themselves. They were fully soaked. It was bound to happen when you have two of the hottest officers with big cocks infront of you.

"Are you not embarrassed? He coos. You're this pathetically soaked that we don't even have touch this dirty pussy of yours." Again his words of humiliation got to you, only to make you even needy for him. He was absoutely right. At this moment of time, all you could want and need is his cock, throbbing inside of your pussy.

"N-need your cock inside me, please."

Your arms resting on his broad shoulder as be pulls you closer by the waist. Dragging his fingers inside of you before he slides his huge cock. You feel your eyelids flutter once he goes inside and out. Almost feeling his cock stretching your pussy all out. You've never had a big cock enter inside you, feeling like a virgin all again.

"F-fuck, better get used to this big cock slut. I know you can take it." He groans.

Johnny gripped your waist with force while you moved up and down. Cock swallowing itself inside of you, hitting your cervix.

His hands made its way to your chest, exposing your perky breasts. Cupping them in his hands once again. Feeling the pleasure of his cock and him touching your breasts was heavenly as you moaned. However this time, it was different. His hand released them, instead he began to deliver harsh slaps on your breasts. A bunch of sharp stings causes your movements to slow down and whimper in moans.

"These fucking tits of yours, wanted to show them off so badly huh."

*slaps*

"Sluts like you always show them just to get our attention, make our cocks hard purposely, making our jobs harder."

*slaps*

You can feel the stinging escalate, the skin on your breasts entirely red due to the slapping. You bite your lip so hard from the pain, eyes squeezing themselves. Although you felt pain, everything he said just made you clench around his cock more.

Johnny almost immediately takes control over you. His huge arms hug your back, keeping you locked inside his arms. You felt his cock going at a relentless speed in and out. You was seeing stars the way he roughly fucked your insides up. You can hear his groans against your skin sending you vibrations as his lips pursed your chest. Your head was facing Jungwoo as he stood near, approaching you.

"Want it?" Jungwoo questions you, stroking his own cock ahead. Ofcourse you want his cock. Ever since you came out of your car and saw him outside, you couldn't even think clearly. He made you nervous yet so aroused by not even doing much, those eyes just did it for you. And the way his bulge looked so heavy under his pants, made you squeeze your thighs together.

Johnny is fucking you so good that you can't even speak. Your eyeslashes flutter as your wet mouth opens slightly, wanting his tip to enter inside your mouth. But Jungwoo doesn't budge easily. He wants to tease you.

"Hm? You need to use that mouth baby."

"W-want cock.." you uttered.

"What happened to manners? he leans closer, I thought Johnny taught you well, lifting your chin up with his finger. Where's the please?"

"Please Off-icer Jungwoo, want your cock please." You was so desperate for him, you missed feeling him inside your mouth, warming it up.

"Good girl."

Your wet mouth welcoming Officer Jungwoo's cock as you watch him with your doey eyes. His head grabs the back of your head, not even letting you get used to his thickness. Not only was your pussy getting thrusted, your mouth was also occupied. Hearing Jungwoo's moans were music to your eyes as it heightened the pleasure.

"You know, I'm kind of jealous." You moaned as he spoke, Johnny's cock was hitting deep inside of you. Its so hard for you to even focus when two cocks have filled your holes. Fucking dumb whore. The loss a throbbing cock that was inside your mouth made you needy.

"Come on Jungwoo," as Johnny gets up and presses his cock inside of your pussy once again. "Sluts like her need every hole of theirs filled with a cock."

Jungwoo came right behind you and spread your cheeks apart. He spat right inside of it and began slurping your ass. His tongue was like no other, sucking it like his life depended on it. A finger enters inside, whimpereing when he went in and out. "Look how your ass takes in my finger, just begging to my cock." You started to shake your ass trying to tease him only to earn a hard smack.

"You're so dirty baby, shaking your cute ass for me, want me to fill it up with my cock?" You nodded.

Suddenly, his tip entered causing you to moan, before his inches got all the way in. You felt like crying because Jungwoo had a fat big cock, the way he streched out your asshole.

"Aw does it hurt baby? He coos. Too bad. You're taking it until I'm satisfied."

You took a deep breath, biting your lips hard when you're sandwiched in between Johnny and Jungwoo. Johnny continued to fondle with your bruised breasts, slowly stroking your thighs with his hand as he positioned your leg up. The hands roaming all over your body heightened all your erogenous areas, making you a whole mess of wetness. His cock was getting deeper with each thrust, legs in pain with being raised so high yet mixed with the immense pleasure you received, allowing the cock to hit deeper.

"Slut, you really feel tight around my cock, its like her pussy was made for me, isn't it." He bragged.

"Her ass is tighter." Jungwoo growled, placing his fingers on your slender neck. You felt his hand tighten more as he savagely thrusted inside you. Gasping as your breathing felt restricted, yet that move had only made your hole clench on his cock. It was even more rough than the start. Truthfully, Jungwoo felt some jealously when he saw the way Johnny was fucking you so good, you being a complete whore for him with your big tits. Ever since he saw you all he could think of is how he would fuck you inside this van.

"Do you like Johnny fucking your pussy whilst I fuck your tight needy asshole?" Jungwoo grunts. Ofcourse you love it, never having such thick huge cocks in your life. You were too fucked out instead leaving a moan without responding.

"Mmmm.."

"She loves our cocks, I can feel her almost clench around mine.'' Johnny grunts. You slide back and forth on his cock hitting the particular spot.

This just made Jungwoo filled with more rage. And some part of it, you knew, yet you let it happen because you found it so arousing. Your head was in the crook of Johnny's neck, taking in his freshly scent. Eyes rolling backwards whilst both cocks were thrusting so deeply.

He grabbed your waist above so he could force his inches inside your ass. Pushing forward all the way to your ass, swallowing his cock inside. His balls are smacking behind your pussy lips, with great force. All your juices were literally covering his balls. Your mouth was opened widely as pleasure came along, his wet balls hitting your pussy. Jungwoo pushed you behind him as your body hit with his. Feeling all the sweat and heat as both your bodies were so close. The feeling of his balls and Johnny's dick around your pussy made you shiver. You know you're almost done.

"Officer Jung-woo.." you whimpered cries.

He began to nibble on your ears, sucking your neck, starting to tremble from his breath.

"Only i can make you break apart." He whispered.

Feeling his fingers digging into your hips, leaving his marks. He continues ramming you behind loving the way your hole takes him in so perfectly. Like its made only for him. His thrusts almost become violent.

He turns your face towards him. "Don't hide your cute face from me, I wanna see you break in front of me."

How can a face like that even say such things. Almost obsessed with seeing you tear infront of his eyes. Johnny held your legs high continuing to hit the spot, bodies are heating with the face pace both are going. Beginning to feel numb from the fucking, Jungwoo's grunting before his lips captures yours, hungrily. His lips felt so soft and lucious, tasting so sweet as both your tongues fight. Saliva dripping down from your mouth, Jungwoo continuing to spit inside as you swallow like the good girl you are. It was filthy, being rammed by a huge cock in your ass while your pussy gets wrecked. Your walls suck in to their cocks, both of them slamming harder. Your cries and moans send them to edge, feeling their cocks pulsing just before they release their hot cum filling your holes. His hand remained on your throat, fucking their cum deep inside of you because your so fucking needy. Fingers squeezing your throat as your pussy was clenching on to their cocks. Starting to feel light headed, with their intense thrusting, you orgasmed so hard. Overwhelmed by such strong pleasure.

"Such a good girl you was", Johnny spoke taking his cock out of your pussy watching his cum trip down.

Jungwoo also agreed but seeing your face made his cock harden once again. How can someone look so beautiful with tears, ruined mascara and lipstick smudged. "You did so well." His finger rubs against your lips, before you suck them in.

This is what you get for doing the classic move. You get punishment and fined by getting railed by two throbbing thick cocks.

#johnny suh smut #jungwoo smut #kim jungwoo smut #nct 127 smut #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct drabbles #jungwoo imagines #johnny suh imagines #nct smut #kpop smut #kpop fics #johnny suh drabbles #jungwoo drabbles #jungwoo scenarios #johnny suh scenarios #tw dubcon

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dynamites-ao3 · 2 years

Text

Chanced

Jason Todd x f! Reader

explicit ; 5k words ; canon-compliant pwp

Out of all the purveyors of justice in the city, you have the misfortune of being confronted by the one least likely to let you go in one piece.

Or, Gotham's most expendable goon meets her most unorthodox vigilante. At night, of course.

read here on ao3! or read under the cut.

(a/n: forewarning for nonconsensual elements.)

The weather was turning for the worse these days. Having not expected the chill, you forfeited a padded jacket when you left your apartment earlier this afternoon. It has been hours since then, the steel walls of the warehouse you situated yourself in now providing little comfort against the temperature. You suck in a breath and purse your lips hard, willing yourself not to chatter your teeth.

This isn’t ideal. It’s brutal, actually.

You really hadn’t expected these sorts of errands when you applied for a central intelligence side job at the villain job convention some months ago. On paper, it’d clearly been a desk job for hire, so it’s not fair that you’re standing here now in the cold, fiddling with a USB stick in your jacket pocket like some actually important intermediary.

The pay definitely isn’t good enough for this, at the very least.

Only having had this gig for two or so months, you weren’t in a position to complain. So: here you were. The USB stick had arrived to your postbox two days prior, in a nondescript bubble mailer with no return address.

Still, you’d known what it was. You’d been given the assignment electronically through an encrypted message by - likely - a higher-up you’ll never met in-person, to pass the drive on to another middle man.

What the drive contained, however, was utterly beyond your payroll. You were too scared to insert it into your own laptop for fear of the consequences. You don’t ask questions either. You could guess, though. Blueprints. Ransomware. A hit. The list goes on.

It didn’t appease you in any real way, to speculate at the contents of the USB stick; though it killed time just fine. You were standing there for about two hours now, and with the fast encroaching nightfall, came the darkness. Even walking in broad daylight in Gotham was at times daunting, so the idea of returning home, guided only by the puttering street lamps, filled you with genuine unease.

Besides that, you have an early start tomorrow for your real day job. You were terribly overqualified for it but until you could line up a better prospect, your hands were tied for now. Hence, your current side gig of running messages for minor city villains.

Your family wouldn’t be too proud but hey - a girl’s gotta eat. And pay rent. And afford the vices that make this chaos all tolerable.

The wind whistles above you, causing the sheets of steel roofing to creak. Naturally, you glance upward at the slivers of the darkening sky that peeks through, offering some semblance of light into the warehouse besides the light that entered through the two wide door ways on opposite walls.

You stood square in the middle and would regularly pivot your gaze to best see any movement that came from the entrances. Bringing your eyes back down, you pan the walls once more: save for the graffiti and the scrap furniture up against the rusty walls that leaked stuffing, there really wasn’t much scenery to appreciate.

You take your hands out of your jacket, rubbing the palms together. The first hour of waiting had you tense, jumping at every minuscule sound; now, you just wanted someone to show up so you could scurry back home, into the comforting warmth that you came to miss dearly. You were itching for takeout at your favourite cheap eatery but it was probably a better idea to dig into the accumulating leftovers you had in tupperwares back home first.

You ground the rubber front of your shoes into the concrete, bored and tapping away.

“This really isn’t worth it,” you grumble into the air, frowning when you notice the visible puffs of air drawing from your breath. The acoustics were rather nice, to be fair.

“Funny - I was gonna say the same thing.”

Your blood runs cold. Apprehension and relief, wrapped all in one, spikes.

You turn towards the sound in an instant. The glint of red at the entrance to your right, dangerous and foreboding, landing in your peripheral view confirms a fear you hadn’t even truly considered. You feel slightly queasy.

The one standing there was not who you were anticipating, after all. You’re certain he’s not working with your agency.

“You waiting for someone, baby?”

Red Hood steps forward as he asks this, head tilted innocuously to the side. His voice is slightly modulated by the helmet, but not enough to conceal the derisive rumble in his voice. His hands are empty but hover inches away from his holsters which were very much not empty. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You’re definitely not making it home before complete nightfall.

Your lips feel chapped though your palms sweat. Aren’t there like a dozen heroes working in Gotham? What were the chances of Red Hood noticing you? Jesus fucking Christ, you can’t seem to catch a break.

His unexpected presence has you blanching a little. “Uh, yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“A friend,” you explain lamely, hoping your timidness masquerades as shyness from meeting a well known hero and not guilt. You were expecting some sunglasses-clad man in an ill-fitting suit and a briefcase to shuffle in, not a hero with broad shoulders who could lay you horizontal in a thousand different ways. You didn’t think you were crucial enough to be tracked or tailed by such a figure.

There’s a beat. Until, “Pretty nasty place to meet a friend.”

Your mind draws blank and you shrug in lieu of responding verbally, sending a sheepish and thin smile. You had a cover story, you know you did, you’d formulated it absent-mindedly while on your feet but under this pressure, under his certain gaze, you can’t recall it.

Was it that you’ve a real penchant for exploration? Or that you’re a cinematographer looking for a shooting location? Something along those lines but the opportunity has since passed.

The USB stick in your pocket feels like lead. Whether by the hand of this vigilante or by your employer, you’re not quite sure how you’re going to make it out alive. This sucks. Perhaps it was naive of you to think you could sidestep all direct confrontations with the police and heroes during your time with a dubious central intelligence agency.

He rests a hand on his utility belt. You gulp as you watch it creep towards the side, down his outer thigh to lightly touch the holstered handgun. He clearly knows why you’re here, loitering in a barren warehouse. Maybe not specifically, but enough to know you’re not here for any respectable reason.

(To be fair, sneaking about abandoned warehouses as a whole wasn’t very respectable.)

You can already see it play out in your mind’s eye: Red Hood sticking the cold barrel under your chin, digging through your pockets for the USB stick, leaving your dead body for the police to eventually find. Maybe he’d let you escape with your life if you’d handed over the information wilfully, but that might just mean you’d be punished by much more unsavoury methods by your own employer for such a grievous error.

It’s not like you held much loyalty to your job, after all - you just didn’t want to get waterboarded for ten hours if they found out a hero working under Batman swiped confidential information from you. You could barely afford commute and monthly rent, much less the expenses in running off to another part of the country where no one knows your name. You hear Coast City’s weather at this time of year is pleasant though.

At a loss, you blurt aloud to save the situation. “My boyfriend.”

If anything, this outburst gets his attention. And a couple more seconds of you being alive, which is always pretty nice.

His hand lifts away. With no visible facial expressions to go off from, you can’t tell if he’s genuinely caught off-guard or simply obliging you in your little charade for a little longer. You run your tongue over your bottom lip, racking your brain.

“My boyfriend,” you say, “I mean, I’m supposed to be meeting him, that’s all. I’ll tell him we can’t be here, okay? Sorry.”

He’s only some meters away now - he could overwhelm you in a blink if you tried anything. Him simply tapping you on the head with his fist might even lay you out flat. Still, you take a step back, closer to the other doorway. If you can stall long enough for the second middle man to arrive, that would be all you need to slip away.

“Meeting him here?” he questions. His steps are heavy as he rocks up close. How did he arrive so silently?

“Yeah. We like to - yeah.” We like to… what, exactly? Oh god. You pause to absorb your own words before ducking away, hopefully hiding your own mortification from him.

This is… not great. You’re just babbling now.

You think that perhaps he didn’t hear you this time - or maybe that he was duly horrified - but then a sharp bark of laughter leaves him, a hand coming up to his helmet to where his mouth would be underneath it.

“Shit,” he says, his voice wry. “Who suggested it, you or him?”

You feel faint, barely able to meet his gaze. “Me.” You intended to reply matter of factly, but it came out rising like a question.

“Riiight.”

Your mouth shuts, taken aback at the direction of the conversation led by his obvious disbelief. You know he’s mocking you - stretching out this moot conversation just to humiliate you, some nameless henchman who turned to crime to pay bills. Maybe if you were worth something more, anything, he’d see you as a threat. Evidently not.

Well, you think rather futilely, it was worth a try. At least he could wring some entertainment out of you before he shot you in the head -

“You suggested it? Take a good look at yourself,” he says. His chin juts upward and it’s a rather cocky move, like he’s egging you on to react.

What was that supposed to mean? Though rhetorical, you still find yourself glancing at your attire: it was nondescript all the way down. It’s not like you cared to dress up - who would you even be impressing? Your jacket could benefit from being more insulated though; and you’re surprised he’s trying to poke holes in your cover as opposed to just threatening you with certain death, but you’ll take what you can get.

“Besides,” he continues, “you sounded pretty reluctant earlier.”

Confused, you speak slowly. “Uh. I don’t - listen, I’ll call him right now, and leave. Really. We don’t mean any harm.” You move to take your phone out of your pocket but a levelled glance at you has you pausing.

He swings his head to the side in a lazy shake. Taps his holster. “Hands off.”

“Sorry?” you say.

“I’ll keep you company until he shows, how’s that?” You can nearly envision a smirk under the helmet and something about his goading has your adrenaline pumping. You wonder if you could somehow fish out the USB stick and sneak it somewhere on the dusty concrete or in your tennis shoes. “Maybe me and him can have a little chat too. On why it’s a bad, bad idea to leave your girl alone in a place like this.”

Goddammit. Whoever steps through the doorway next is getting murked right alongside with you apparently.

Shoulders tensing, you weigh your options. You consider weaving further into your cover, saying something like you regularly do this, it’s really not an issue - but for some reason pretending to be a public sex fiend in front of Red Hood was incredibly weird.

“Okay,” you say, helpless. You slip your hands into your jacket pockets, feel for the USB drive, and casually look about the barren warehouse.

A silence ensues. You’re not sure what to do, you’ve never been in this situation before. You don’t know why he’s letting you feign about so long and it scares you.

“You cold?”

“Yeah, a little,” you make out, unsure.

“Might want to move closer to the side. You’re standing in front of the draft.”

You stared at him, though he gave no indication to acknowledge you. “Okay.”

The moment you begin to shift however, stepping towards one of the walls and further into the shadows, you felt wind cutting sharply by your ears as you’re slammed forward, one splayed hand between your shoulder blades.

A shoulder hits the wall before the rest of your front, knocking the air out of you in a wheeze. Your hands came up to block but the force of his shove still stung your palms. The metal wall rattles thunderously.

You draw your head back in time, but your jaw still gets clipped slightly by the rough wall when you turn your cheek. You might be bleeding. Sharp pain shoots up yours arms as he twists them behind your back and pushes you with his entire body. Panic rises up your throat and a low, pained moan draws out of you.

“Did I hurt you? Sorry, baby, but I have to be thorough.”

A solid steel-toed boot wedges itself between your legs, forcing them apart. Eclipsed by the shadows behind you, Red Hood looms powerfully. What did you do to deserve this treatment?

“It’s a thumb drive, right?” he prompts, cutting to the chase with his helmet right by your hair. “Just tell me where it is and I’ll leave you alone. No harm no foul.”

“I don’t know,” you say, trying to keep your voice even. “Please, you have the wrong person.”

In the scuffle, you dropped the USB and it landed conveniently under the skirt of a sagging couch to your left, only visible at your angle near the wall. Your neck is damp with sweat. If you could just kick it further in, you might be able to convince him you really were innocent after all.

“Uh huh,” he says in the same disbelieving tone as before. Unimpressed and losing patience, he shifts his grip so that he held both your wrists tightly with one hand, pinning you against the wall, so that he might use his free hand to slide up your body.

There is the rustling of fabric as he sticks his hand into your jacket pockets and feels about, before coming up empty. “Hm.” Shifting gears, he turns his attention down to your pants and thumbs your pockets - and you jump when his knuckles graze your butt. He palms your ass instead of filing methodically through your back pockets.

“Still not talking?”

“There’s nothing to say,” you say, getting cut at the end when he abruptly slips under your light jacket and atop your shirt, spreading his fingers on your midsection. You shiver.

Rough, worn leather finds your skin, and in doing so, he hitches your shirt up along with your half-unzipped jacket, introducing it to the cold air. Goosebumps erupt across your arms and you repress a sharp breath.

What should be a frightening pat-down strangely has a heat forming in the pit of your stomach, turning fiercer when his hand cups you. You finally gasp aloud when he gently squeezes the soft flesh, leather rubbing against your nipple.

Your nipples harden almost immediately to the cold but he still rolls them with the pads of his fingers, almost soothingly. This is definitely not standard procedure in finding an object on your person.

“No bra?” he mutters. As if rendered curious by your lack of chest support, he pushes your shirt up further to gain access to your other breast, also kneading it briefly in one gloved hand. He stops. “Guess you weren’t lying about the public fucking.”

What, can’t a person just go bra-less when they wanted to? When he goes quiet this time, you become aware of your heavy breathing, intensive and trembling. Embarrassment swells in you despite the threat of your livelihood dangling.

“Umm,” you croak, abashed. Then, clearing your throat, “I think you see I don’t have what you’re looking for, so…”

“Ehh,” says Red Hood mildly. “I wouldn’t say that.”

You’re not given time to think.

There’s no resistance from you when he grabs yours hips and slams them flush back against his solid legs. Instinctively, your arms fly out forward to support yourself against the wall as you’re arched back on him. Your mind spins wildly, unable to keep up as gloved fingers press into the fabric of your clothes, into your flesh.

“But you’re a hero,” you say in another abrupt gasp, pitching almost hysterical when you realise what he’s implying.

And he’s sneering, audibly, when he replies, “Aw, baby, it’s so nice you think I’m a hero.”

“I’ll expose you online - I’ll go to the police,” you say. “I’ll fucking do it.”

His grip on you tightens painfully. “Don’t you know who I am? Like anything you say would make waves."

Your eyes widen. You pull your hands from the wall to claw at his wrists, but it’s as futile as you’d thought it was to be. “Hold on, please,” you insist, switching gears, “I’ll give you what you want, just -”

You could feel him behind you, the firm press against his crotch unavoidable no matter how you struggled. And he ran unbearably hot. “Sure you will.” You heard the click of metal as he unbuckled his utility belt. You’re not surprised it has come to this. You’ve heard of Red Hood and his penchant for the less upstanding methods of pursuing justice.

This seemed to be in line with his character.

There was nowhere to go. If you could somehow tug yourself out of his grip, there was nothing holding him back from shooting you between the shoulder blades as you made your escape.

You’re not as physically adept (you had a desk job for godssake) so you were subjected to hanging your head low as he tugged your pants down, resting your forearms on the wall. Though he did the bare minimum in unzipping your fly, your pants naturally fell to the dusty ground, exposing the full length of your legs.

He stayed quiet as he hooked his thumb under the band of your panties. With your eyes downcast, you notice that he’d taken the glove off the hand that was currently skimming your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He pushed your panties down and gravity eases it to your knees. His other hand remained securely at your opposite hip.

When his large hand slides to your front, callused fingers coming down between your legs, you can’t help but wonder if this had been his plan the moment he laid eyes on you and decided to fuck around for the fun of it; or if this had been a spur of the moment sort of ordeal, occurring to him when he had you caged against the wall. Did it even matter? You were determined to not react.

He barely even began to trace your slit with his middle and ring finger, barely even sinking the pads of them between your folds when he pauses.

Having nothing else to distract you from the breaching sensation, you double down on it, desperately willing your body to resist. His once cold fingers warm up quickly, regulating with your body heat.

It takes a heartbeat to realise he is speaking to you. “You’re already wet.”

“No,” you reply, hoarse. You don’t know why you do - you shouldn’t be talking back at all - but it looks like you’ve still some sliver of pride.

“Yeah, you are.” He leans forward, firm chest bumping against your back, the thin jacket not much of a barrier at all. The metal helmet brushes against your hair. His fingers sink back into you, deeper this time, and when he withdraws a knuckle’s length, you can feel the wet squelch before you even hear it. You want to cry out but relent in a silent shudder. “Are you wet for me, baby? Don’t worry, I won’t tell your boyfriend.”

“Stop it.”

“You like this shit,” Red Hood states, almost haughty. “It turns you on.”

“No, you’re wrong,” you say with a shake of your head; you try pushing away from him. He hardly heeds you.

“Am I?” His thumb strokes your sensitive clit and you snap your head away from his sight. Tears prick your eyes and there’s something horrible building up inside you that wants him to continue.

His hands were large to begin with but when his fingers finally reenter you, scissoring slowly to test your limits, you can’t help but whimper.

“A pretty thing like you into fucking in dirty places. God, your man’s lucky.”

You’ve an inkling he knows the boyfriend thing is just a cover, but you groan all the same, the noise escaping out a clamped jaw.

The ensuing silence is unbearable, void of anything but the noises coming from your body. A shiver overwhelms you, running fast up your spine when he gives your clit unexpected attention again. You want to cry. You are going to cry; you squeeze your eyes shut.

You clench around Red Hood’s fingers and this does not escape him. As if in response, he squeezes your breast unceremoniously.

“Yeah, yeah, I got you,” Red Hood replies, his voice surprisingly breathless.

His hand comes away sticky, knuckles glistening, wiping against the skin of your inner thigh. Then, stripping you of your jacket with certain urgency, he spins you around by the shoulder and takes your head in his gloved hand. Unmoving fingers fan across your jaw, thumb on your cheek.

“Open,” he instructs. “And don’t bite.”

Your lips close around his damp fingers, hot tongue running along his callused fingertips. The red mask is indecipherable: you’re unsure whether he’s getting anything out of this or that he simply wants to humiliate you. Maybe a bit of both. In any case, he never turns his head away. Are his eyes closed? Or is he committing this to memory, of your hollowed cheeks and wide, glassy eyes?

You too do not look away, much too scared to glance downward and catch the glimpse of his arousal tenting against dark tacts.

The hand on your chin relaxes when it becomes clear you aren’t about to wriggle free. You could though, and it might even be easy - but your shoes are deadweights and escaping into the Gotham air cannot be much safer.

You clean yourself off his fingers, sucking and licking gingerly until he pulls away.

“Turn around for me.”

When he shimmies his tactical pants down, you don’t see anything but you hear the shuffle of clothes, the tinkling of the belt, and you feel the firm, hot length of his cock abruptly press against your backside.

He adjusts himself, dragging it down against your slit and rubbing, spreading your wet heat across himself. You don’t know what to think, knowing that he was already fully erect, spilling pre-come at the thought of fucking you.

Against your will, you begin to ache for him, a sharp emptiness balling up in your core that wanted to be filled. Malleable like putty, you think he could slam right into you with no problem. In fact, it would be delicious, the force, the feel of his body boxing you in, taking you without grievance or care.

Surprisingly, he takes his time. You don’t demur: you get what you wish for in due time.

The moan you let out between your teeth when the throbbing head of his cock breaches your entrance was unstoppable. It would be embarrassing had he not also let out a low noise of his own as he stretches you. “Fuck,” he hisses.

Once he’d positioned himself correctly, he inched into you slow, revelling in the tight heat. You, on the other hand, felt full, his cock satisfying the burning ache you had just moments ago. The slow stretch makes you quiver, keeping a breath in your chest.

The moment of quietude is startled violently when his hand unexpectedly grabs at the base of your nape, not high enough to asphyxiate yet still hard enough to communicate danger. While fully hilted, he rolls his hips. He drags back briefly before snapping into you with enthusiasm.

You felt as though you’d bite your tongue if you continued to keep your teeth gritted but the moment you relaxed your jaw, a panting moan escaped. “Oh god,” you let out.

His hips slam. “Yeah? That good?”

Your noises apparently encourage him: he fucks you hard, bruising vices on your hips, and gradually you lean further downward, your own hands sliding down the wall for purchase. The abrasive, frigid concrete is rough on your forearms and knees when you get down.

He follows suit, lowering himself to one knee. He at least has the graciousness to pull out momentarily as you got to the floor, his cock bouncing heavily just by your entrance, coarse pubic hair rasping at your skin. When he slides back into your warmth, there’s no resistance whatsoever, your body in complete compliance.

In the corner of your eyes, the kicked USB is just right there, to your left and slightly under the dusty furniture. There is no way he cannot see it from this angle, but he pays it no mind.

“God, what if your man walks in on us, huh?” he grits out, between breaths. “I guess I could let him watch for a bit.”

The shift in position pushes his cock to reach a new depth, pistoning in and out of you with such fervor that you arched your back to keep from being sent forward. You were entirely at his mercy now.

His deep strokes sends zips up your spine. He seems to fill you up completely, as if with every thrust, the head of his cock meets just bare of your cervix. The helmet does a good job at concealing his breathing, but every once in a while, over the visceral wet noises of his cock burying into you and the smack of his balls against your skin, you can faintly hear a low groan.

When he stills for a split second and breaks the pace, your body moves faster than your mind - and you roll your hips back to hilt yourself like you’re keen.

“Want me to continue?” he asks. “Tell me you want it and I’ll get you off.” A hand slides from gripping your hip to your ass, palming it.

“Ngh,” you return, lamely. It’s not enough of an answer.

“What’s that?” He yanks out fast and it leaves your cunt aching sharply again.

You should jerk a thumb over to the USB drive and tell him to go fuck himself or just shoot you or some combination of this.

“Don’t think so hard, just tell me,” his voice comes out like a modulated purr, rumbly and arrogant. God, he’s so fucking aggravating, insidious even -

“Yes,” you say in a cry.

The effect is instantaneous. He ruts into you like an animal, like he doesn’t want you to forget the searing effect of his cock as it slides into you. Fast and aggressive in the way only a man of his athleticism can be, you are left to lower your head to the floor and raise your hips high for him to violate, biting your bottom lip to keep from drooling. The ruthless barrelling as his mode of acquainting with your insides is thrilling; he wants to coax you to scream.

Eerily enough, you and him nearly come at the same time. Unable to stop your tensing, your hands ball up into fists and you give into your feelings: your insides flutter, the muscles contracting and consequently squeezing his cock. His pace slows dramatically as if to savour the vibrations, drawing out into long and deep strokes.

The build up falls from a terrible crescendo and your knees have liquified; he keeps you upright.

“Fuck,” he breathes.

He hardly gives you a heads up when he comes, which is more than you can say, but his fingers dig as a forewarning when he bottoms out. It’s likely your orgasm brings his over the finish line.

His cock, heavy and engorged, twitches twice and spurts a hot, wet mess deep inside you. You imagine his expression: his eyes rolling back or maybe clamping shut; his teeth gritted or slightly parted in a pant. You don’t even have time to protest. He strokes your skin as he does, almost affectionately.

As always, your body betrays you: you squeeze without thinking just as he backs up like you want to keep him there. You feel insatiable: you want him in you all the time. He chuckles faintly.

He gives short thrusts as if to wring out the very last drops and you try not to think about the warmth filling your core now, the presence of him imprinted inside your body. It makes you flush. Were you insane for enjoying this?

He doesn’t seem to be going through the same mental turmoil.

The very moment he withdraws his softening cock from your body, thick come drips, sliding hotly down your inner thigh. His absence leaves your entrance pulsing, effectively squeezing out more of the mess.

You think that’s the end of it and go to stand upright when you feel his hand grip an ass cheek and without warning, spread your entrance further open with a thumb. “Aagh,” you can’t help but whine at the feel of come spilling out.

It didn’t help that he was most definitely watching the whole affair of his come dripping from your pleasantly sore entrance. A sizeable glob splatters on the concrete between your knees, just missing the pants around your ankles.

“You with me?” Red Hood hums.

You nod. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Sweet,” he says, all casual. “So. What’re we thinking for dinner.”

Like that, the curtains close.

You sigh petulantly, reaching back and slapping his hand away. This is no place to rest in a post-orgasm haze anyway. Pulling yourself upright and yank your pants back up your waist. Hands on your waist, you twist about violently. A very satisfying crack resounds from your body.

“I dunno,” you say, pinching your jacket up and dusting it. “Are we going to your place or mine? Also, god, you talk a lot.”

“Hey, you said you wanted realism. I gave it to you,” he says, getting to his feet. Jason unclasps his helmet from the back, yanking it off in one go. “Anticipation helps the scene.” He shakes his head, unsticking sweaty bangs from his forehead before pushing it all back with his hand.

“Three hours,” you say for emphasis, though there’s no bite. “It’s cold.”

You do appreciate Jason for obliging you in this scenario. When you first suggested it in a sort of half-joking manner, you certainly hadn’t expected Jason to take you seriously.

Nor had you expected him to whip out his acting chops like this. It was all rather impressive and seeing him with you now at the end of the scene, cheeks flushed and orgasm attained, you couldn’t really be mad.

“What was in this thing anyway? Looks ancient.” He steps away to lean over, picking the grimy thumb drive from the ground.

“Ehh. Probably used it to transfer some files when I bought my laptop.” You purse your lips. “Just last year, I guess.”

“Ugh, so boring. Wanna film something and stick it in this?”

A scoff leaves you, nabbing the small drive from him and shoving it away. “Dinner first,” you say.

Pivoting around, you make for the exit. Jason stops you, wrangling you with a hand on your back, and pushes you back towards him. Dipping forward, Jason captures your mouth in a languid kiss. It is like all the aggression has dissipated, leaving behind the dregs of something more substantial. Warmly, you lean into him. His eyes glitter when you pull apart.

“Your boyfriend’s pretty nice,” he says. “Wouldn't you say?”

“Yeah. I guess he is.”

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd imagines #dc x reader #dynamites writes #WHEW i'm back baby *crickets chirp*

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kkodzvken · 4 years

Text

right here - dabi x f. reader

“it’s happening again but i don’t give a fuck about your friends i’m right here, here. baby take a look around i’m the only one who hasn’t walked out i’m right here, here.” - chase atlantic, “right here”

touya-nii wants his baby sister all to himself. smut + angst, DARK CONTENT, 18+ MDNI

wc: 5k

warnings: stepcest (reader’s mom and rei are together, and reader calls him nii-san/touya-nii), emotional manipulation + toxic relationship, drug use, mentions of violence + murder, dumbification, infantilization (reader’s a crybaby lol), degradation, unprotected sex w no prep

a/n: the lovely @inkykeiji ‘s touya-nii series is my absolute favorite fanwork i’ve ever read, and it inspired me to write this!! thank u so so much clari for letting me post this and for creating such a beautiful world with your words </3

“Oh, baby, what’s wrong?”

His words startle you, and you jump with a little yelp, dropping your bag onto the ground in surprise. It lands with a loud thump against the shiny hardwood floor, the sound making you flinch again.

He wasn’t supposed to be home yet. Your nii-san was almost never there when you got home from school. He was rarely home before the late hours of the night, well past midnight, when he’d slip into your room without your mother or Rei noticing. Which is why you’d allowed yourself to cry as you walked into the house, why you didn’t bother to wipe away the spidery mascara tears dripping down your face or swipe the snot off your nose. Your stomach coils uncomfortably at the thought of your nii-san seeing you like this, and you duck your head down, sinking onto your knees to retrieve your fallen backpack.

“Princess.” His voice was sterner this time, and it sent a little spike of fear shooting through you. You couldn’t handle his disappointment, not today, not after everything that had happened. “When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.”

“S-sorry, Touya-nii,” you stutter, eyes still trained on the floor. He sighs, a dramatic, overly exaggerated sigh that sends another dagger into your heart. You hear the sounds of the couch creaking as he gets up, the sound of his sock-clad feet treading against the hardwood as he made his way to you. His own knees hit the ground, and a large hand finds its way to your chin, long fingers hooking under your jaw and pressing upwards. You let out an involuntary whine as you’re forced to look up at him. Please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad, you think over and over, bracing yourself for his disappointed glare.

But instead, you’re met with concern swimming through his turquoise eyes. Somehow, that hurt even more than his reprimands would have. He was so busy, already so stressed, and now you’d gone and made him even more worried with your stupid crying. Stupid crybaby. Stupid, pathetic crybaby.

The thought triggers a fresh wave of tears, and you instinctively raise your arms to him. With a coo, he wraps his strong arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. Your face finds its home in his chest, nose buried in his soft cotton t-shirt. Your body shakes as sob after sob pours out. His hands trace comfortingly over your back, rubbing gentle circles against you as he holds you so tight that it almost hurt. But it doesn’t hurt, could never hurt. Nothing ever hurts when it came to him.

“C’mon baby, talk to me,” he whispers against the crown of your head as he presses soft kisses into your hair. “Nii-san can’t help until he knows what’s wrong, baby.”

You sniffle, and then pull your face out of his grey t-shirt, now stained with your tears and makeup and snot. “’M sorry, nii-san,” you whimper. “Sorry for worrying you. ‘M fine, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

He tuts at that, and pulls you close again. This time, your face buries into the crook of his neck, your nose pressed directly to his skin. You inhale his familiar scent – Marlboros and spicy deodorant and something distinctive that’s so painfully him – and as it floods your nostrils, it helps to calm your breathing a bit. He’s saying something, his voice impossibly low, even lower than usual as he speaks directly into your ear. You force yourself to pay attention to his words. “…always worry about you, princess, you’re my everything. Don’t hide yourself away from me. You know, you make me more worried by not telling me what’s wrong, and you don’t want that, do you? You don’t want to worry your nii-san, right?”

You shake your head furiously – or, at least, as furiously as you can when his strong arms are caging you tightly against his body. It’s enough, though, because he coos and nuzzles into your hair. “Then tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

“It’s stupid,” you mutter against his skin. “I’m just being a crybaby.” You don’t look up, partially because you can’t with how tight he’s holding you, but partially because you didn’t want to see the disappointed expression on his face. “But…my friends. You know, I’ve told you about them. Katsu and Hanta and Eiji and Denki. They…they told me we couldn’t be friends anymore. They said they don’t want to be friends with a stupid baby like me.” Reliving the moment makes your skin crawl, and threatens to make you start crying again, but you blink your eyes to force the tears away and continue. “I don’t understand, Touya-nii! Just yesterday, they walked me home, and everything was fine! And now they hate me! I’m... I-I’m just…” The dam in your chest bursts, and the tears that you were trying so hard to keep at bay erupt at full force.

But your nii-san is there, with his arms wrapped tight around you and his warmth enveloping you. By this point, you’re completely in his lap, your thighs straddling him. You can’t deny that being this close to him affects you, like it always does. The combination of your already fragmented emotional state, paired with his hands that have now snuck under your shirt and weight of his clothed cock pressing against your core, make you desperate. Without realizing it, you’re rocking your hips, chasing bliss in one of the only ways that you know how to.

His warm hands grip at your waist and squeeze. The pain makes you gasp and still your movements, and you look up at him. Your wide eyes, sparkling with unshed tears, meet the blue flames of his own irises. His blown-out pupils cover most of his eyes, but you can see the ring of turquoise that surrounds them, that beautiful cerulean sea that you adore so much. Your heart pangs, and for a second you wish that he’d stop with the drugs and let you see those pretty aqua pools more often. But you catch yourself before you can get carried away. Nii-san knows best, after all. Who are you to question him?

You’re just a stupid baby, like your friends said. You suppose that they’re your ex-friends now, although the thought sends another sob wracking through your body. Touya’s eyes don’t leave yours, and he swipes away at your tears with one of his long fingers. “We’re not fucking right now, baby. You’re too emotional. C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

He gently repositions you in his arms so that he can carry you, and then he stands up and walks towards the stairs. You just let him, too dazed to say anything. Touya-nii? Turning down a chance to fuck? What has gotten into him? It’s so out of character that it leaves you dumb and confused. He walks up the grand staircase and across the plush carpeted hallway that leads to his room, easily transferring your weight to one arm so that he can push the door open. He gently lays you onto his plush mattress, and you expect him to climb in with you, but he walks towards his dresser and opens the second shelf from the bottom.

Your heart sinks, but you try and ignore it. Touya-nii knows best. Touya-nii knows best. Touya-nii always, always knows what’s best. He rifles through the various bottles and baggies that he keeps in that drawer before pulling out a little orange bottle filled with blue and white capsules. Wordlessly, he shakes a few out onto his palm before tossing them into his mouth and swallowing them dry. He’s probably used to it, with the way that he swallows more drugs than actual food these days.

He slinks back to the bed and plops down next to you, the weight of his body slightly launching you up. You shriek, and he chuckles. You try to shoot him a glare, but your nii-san is just so pretty when he’s smiling that you can’t help but giggle along. He extends a finger and curls it in a “come hither” motion, and you obey, scooting yourself towards him and nestling into his familiar warmth.

“Your friends are stupid,” he says. It makes you flinch. You had almost forgotten about the reason you were so upset – Touya always made you smile, always took the weight off your shoulders and made you forget about everything that was wrong. But his words are a harsh reminder, and everything comes tumbling down once again.

He notices the shift in you – always so perceptive, always so attentive – and presses a kiss to your forehead. You tilt your head up, desperate for the warmth of his lips against your own, desperate for him to touch you and take the pain away, but he shifts away. “Listen to me first,” he says sternly, and you nod, ever the obedient little puppy.

“Your friends are stupid,” he continues. “They’re stupid, and if they don’t realize your worth, that’s their loss, baby.” One of his hands comes up to cup your face, titling your chin so that he can gaze directly into your eyes. It’s far too soon for the oxys to have taken effect already, but you could swear that his pupils are even bigger than they were before. His eyes feel like an abyss, like black holes, sucking you in. You don’t think that you could ever escape – you don’t ever want to escape. “They think that you’re a dumb baby? They think that you’re too weak and stupid? They’re idiots. You’re my baby, and you’re perfect just the way you are.”

His words are like a fire, and it burns away some of the ice that formed in your chest after you’d spoken to your friends. Still, your pain doesn’t disappear quite so easily. Your little hands clutch his shirt and tug. “B-but I love them, nii-san. I don’t want them to think I’m dumb.”

Touya’s eyes flash dangerously, and your stomach twists. You don’t know what you did wrong, but you’re terrified that you made him mad, that he’ll throw harsh words or blows at you. Or, even worse, that he’ll push you away and leave. But the anger disappears as quickly as it came, and you try to tell yourself that you just imagined it. “I don’t give a fuck about your friends. You don’t need to love them, princess. You don’t need to love anyone else.” The hand that was cupping your face moves down to your chest, and you think that he’s finally going to touch you like you want him to and make you feel good. But instead, he taps at the space between your breasts, his large finger thumping against the spot on your ribs that shields your heart. “This little heart? Princess, you don’t need to give it to anyone but me. I’ll take care of your heart.”

You furrow your brow. Touya has always been protective, has always insisted that you don’t need anyone but him, but this still leaves a sour taste in your mouth. “Touya-nii,” you start to say, but he cuts you off.

“This isn’t the first time this has happened, has it, angel?” His words are just leaving you more confused, and you open your mouth to say so, but his hand shoots out and squishes your cheeks like a fish, effectively silencing you. It hurts, with how tight he’s squeezing you, but you can’t deny that the warmth of his hand is comforting. “Everyone’s left. Your dad left. Your mom’s never around. Those girls you used to hang around with, they don’t talk to you anymore. All of my siblings,” he says, spitting the word with so much venom that you recoil, “can’t stand you. And now these boys. Baby, take a look around. I’m the only one that hasn’t walked out.”

His words hurt. They hurt because they’re true, because you scramble to find a single example of someone who love who hasn’t left you, and you can’t. You can’t. Your nii-san is the only one who’s stuck around, who’s listened to you cry and comforted you without running away. The only one who hasn’t recoiled at how sensitive you get, the only one who takes care of you and gives you what you need. A fresh wave of tears springs out of your eyes, and you try to bury your face in his chest, try to do anything but stare at the voids that used to be his eyes, but his grip on your face is far too strong.

“What’s wrong with me?” you whimper.

He coos, and releases his bruising grip, choosing to instead cradle your face again. You expect him to give you comfort, to tell you that there’s nothing wrong with you. You open your heart, ready to embrace the warmth of his words.

“You’re dumb,” he says, matter-of-factly, and your face must betray your surprise, because he begins to rub little circles into your cheek. “You’re dumb,” he repeats. “You’re sensitive, and you’re childish, and you wouldn’t survive a single day without someone taking care of you.”

You don’t register exactly when you started crying again, but tears are flowing freely down your cheeks now, running over his fingers that are still moving across your skin. “But,” he continues. “You’re perfect. You’re perfect for me. You’re too much of a god damn brat for anyone else to handle you, but I can handle you. Only I can handle my dumb baby sister. Do you get it?”

He pauses for a second, giving you time to try and absorb his words. The gears in your mind feel like they’re turning painfully slowly, and you can tell that he notices your confusion, because he gives you a dry smile. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, angel. You’re so dumb.” He knocks his fist against your skull, far too harshly, and you yelp a little at the pain. “There’s nothing going on up here. You’re so damn sensitive and annoying, nobody else can bear to deal with you. Don’t you see, princess, how lucky you are to have your nii-san?”

You nod. Your foggy brain is beginning to understand his words. “I’m…I’m so lucky to have you, Touya-nii.”

He chuckles, and he leans down, and finally presses a kiss against your lips. It’s chaste, and over far too quickly, no matter how desperately you try to prolong it, He pulls away and laughs at the pout on your face. “See, puppy, you’re so needy. Your nii-san gave you a kiss, but you’re still pouting and whining and asking for more. Don’t you see why nobody else likes you?”

You nod again. He’s right, you tell yourself, even though there’s still a piece of your brain that recoils at the idea. It doesn’t make sense, what he’s saying. Your friends never said anything about you being needy before, and your mom’s only gone all the time because she’s working, and, besides, she’s the one who took you and left your dad. It doesn’t make sense, but you push aside the stupid resistant part of your brain. Touya-nii must be right, Touya-nii is always right, and you don’t want to make him mad by being a brat and asking too many questions. You were being so dumb, he had to practically spell it out for you. He’s right. Touya-nii knows best. Touya-nii knows best, Touya-nii always knows best.

You look up at him with your glossy eyes, and he smiles back at you with his empty ones. But you can still see the small ring of turquoise that surrounds the voids, and you latch onto them, dive into those tiny blue-green pools and take respite. “’M sorry for being so needy, nii-san.”

“Oh, baby,” he coos. “My pretty, needy baby. Nii-san’s gonna take care of you, because if it wasn’t for him, who else would? You’d be so lost without your nii-san.”

“So lost,” you parrot back. You want so badly to make him proud, to make him give you more praise and sweet words. “Need you.”

“Fuck yeah you do,” he mutters under his breath, before suddenly pulling your face in close and kissing you. It’s violent, it’s messy, but it’s just what you need. He’s what you need. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, and you cry out as the sensitive flesh breaks. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t care – he just slides his tongue into your mouth, and you can taste your coppery blood on his tongue. Your blood, and the acrid taste of smoke from his Marlboros. It’s not bad though – no, it’s great, because it’s your nii-san and you love him more than words can say. His fingers sink into your hips and push you onto your back, and he climbs over you, teeth leaving little marks all over your soft skin.

“Nii-san,” you gasp, and Touya thinks it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. He breaks away from your neck and revels in the needy whine you let out.

Right now, with your small legs wrapped around his waist and your hands desperately clawing at his shirt, trying to pull him impossibly closer… this gets him higher than any drug ever could. You get him higher than any fucking drug ever could.

You grind your hips against his, and he growls before leaning down to reclaim your lips. It’s not romantic. Nothing about what you have is romantic, despite what the pretty words he whispers into your ears claim. It’s all a means to an end, a deception to get him what he needs. You’re his drug, and he’d rather die than come down. Would rather die than see someone else get their disgusting fingers on what he owns.

Which is why he was so fucking furious yesterday, when he saw you walking home with those four boys that you call your friends. A joke. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic. You really think those boys have any interest in being just friends with you, any goal in mind besides fucking you?

It was honestly just luck that led to him catching you. Jin was too damn stoned to move, and that idiot Tomura had sent Touya to do the runs instead. He was counting the money that a group of scared-looking college students had handed him, making sure that they weren’t trying to stiff him. He knew they weren’t of course – one look at those kids proved that they were too close to pissing their pants to even think about cheating him – but protocol was protocol, and it was there for a reason. Even if that reason was that Tomura’s big, scary daddy would get mad. He had just tucked the bills into his right pocket and reached into his left for the bottle of little green pills that those kids wanted when he saw you. Or, to be more accurate, he saw you being ogled by four boys, their hands all over you as you walked.

It made him sick. He didn’t even realize that he was clenching his fists until the bottle of pills in his hand exploded and little orange fragments sliced his palm. And even then, he barely registered the pain. It was the startled yelps of those kids that snapped him out of his furious haze, and he just threw the pills and plastic shards in the general direction before turning around and marching towards his car. They were saying something, complaining about something or the other, but he couldn’t fucking care less. His hand was bleeding freely by then, and he stopped before getting into his car – he didn’t care about whatever temper tantrum Tomura would throw about his shitty service, but he did care about his white leather seats. With a frustrated groan, he clawed at the wound with his blunt nails and dug out the bits of embedded plastic, and then pulled the sleeve of his jacket over his palm to staunch the bleeding. It probably should’ve hurt more, but the cocaine and rage flowing through his veins were a hell of a painkiller.

He knew those boys, of course. He knew everyone that you interacted with. He drove around for thirty minutes so they’d all have enough time to get home. His work phone wouldn’t stop ringing, and his fingers were too shaky to silence it, so he just smashed it against the dashboard. It sent more little pieces of glass into his already bleeding hand, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care, he didn’t care, didn’t care about anything besides how fucking furious he was right now. He wasn’t mad at you, of course – you were too dumb to realize otherwise. You probably thought those boys were just nice because they liked you, that they only had innocent intentions when they offered to walk you home. Fuck Jin for rolling when he was supposed to be working, and fuck Tomura for deciding that Touya had to be the one to take his place. Touya picked you up from school every day, and he dropped you off in the morning, and he took you wherever you needed to go. You’d assured him that you’d be fine getting home by yourself today. He assumed that you’d take the bus, which made him antsy, of course – plenty of fucking creeps that could get their hands on you, but at least you’d be in public – but seeing you walk home with that pack of wolves behind you made him see red.

Bakugo Katsuki was his first stop. That blond haired bitch had his disgusting hand thrown over your shoulder, and Touya had half a mind to blow his brains out for that. But, no. He forced himself to stay calm and rational, to control his rage and think about what the best solution would be. If all four of your friends suddenly disappeared, you’d be grief-stricken, and Touya couldn’t have that. He couldn’t have his cute little baby sister wasting her pretty little tears over some brats that just wanted to fuck her, to use her.

Killing was Touya’s go-to way of dealing with inconveniences, but if that wasn’t an option, he was a master at intimidation. With his scarred flesh and maniacal eyes, as well as the pretty little switchblade that he’d carried for years, he painted a menacing picture. He had to ring the doorbell seven fucking times before little Katsu answered, and the brat had tried to give him attitude. All that attitude had melted away within just a few moments, though, and poor little Katsu was left snot-faced and promising that he’d never go near you again. The next three had been much of the same, although they were much more initially scared than the blond kid had been.

It was a shame, really, that Touya didn’t get to actually hurt them. He would’ve loved to sink his switchblade into his flesh, would’ve adored their screams and the tearing of their muscles. A shame, but this was for the better. They’d let you down harsh, and you’d come crying into your nii-san’s arms.

You’re just so damn predictable.

He has every one of your reactions memorized, knows your body like the back of his hand. He knows, when he cups your pretty little face with his large hand, you’ll nuzzle into it. When his thumb runs across the seam of your lips, you’ll open them obediently, pulling his fingers into your mouth and sucking so sweetly.

He knows, because you’ve done it hundreds of times before, but it still feels so fucking good each time. The feel of your tongue swiping across his fingers drives him insane, and he has half a mind to just shove his cock in and fuck your face until you’re crying. But he holds himself back, because you’re pawing at him so cutely, begging for him to fuck you, begging because you need him.

“Please, nii-san,” you babble, your words slurred as they try and push past his fingers. “Need you. Need you so bad, nii-san, need to feel you inside me, please.”

“Be patient,” he says, his hand leaving your mouth and trailing your body. “I need to prep you, or you’ll keep fucking whining about it hurting.”

You shake your head furiously. “I can take it, please!”

He’s so beautiful, your Touya-nii. He looks like a fucking god right now, towering over you, backlit by the hazy yellow of his ceiling light. His fingers leave your body and find his belt instead, and he wastes no time in unbuckling it and shoving his pants down. His cock is already hard and weeping, the prettiest shade of red that you’ve ever seen. He wraps his large hand around it, hissing at the contact, the sound so pretty that it makes your heart sing.

You feel like you’re underwater, like chlorine and salt are filling your nostrils and pooling in your lungs. Your body is buzzing, and you so desperately want to throw caution to the wind and take the edge off. Your fingers are itching to touch yourself. But you know better, know that Touya will be mad. And you want – no, need – to be a good little girl for him. You’ve already given him so much to worry about today, with your whining and crying and babbling.

It’s like he said – you’re a dumb baby, right? That’s what he said, and you know that he’d never lie to you. Nii-san knows best, you remind yourself, chanting it over and over in your head like a prayer. He knows best. He’s the only one you have, and you want so badly to make him proud.

The head of his cock presses against your dripping hole. The feeling makes you flinch, but before you can react and further, he’s already pressing his hips forward. “Fuck!” you exclaim, body stinging at the stretch.

His movement pauses, and he looks down at you with disappointment in his pretty eyes. “C’mon now, princess, you know you’re not supposed to use those bad words.”

Your eyes widen and you instantly backtrack as you realize your mistake. “Sorry, sorry, ‘m sorry! It just felt so good, nii-san, I’m sorry, I just wasn’t thinking!”

He chuckles at that, dipping his head down to nip at your lips with his sharp teeth. “I know, doll,” he whispers against your mouth, his breath tasting like menthol and smoke. “You never think. My dumb baby sister, got no thoughts in that head of yours, huh? No thoughts besides my cock?”

You nod, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Please, Touya-nii. Please fuck me stupid.”

The grin that graces his face is nothing short of sinful. He doesn’t reply with words. Instead, he hooks his massive hands under your knees and pushes up. Your body is like putty in his hands, and you bend at his whims. He folds you up like a doll, your knees pressed up to your chest. You feel so vulnerable, so exposed. But truth be told, you always feel vulnerable around him. You feel like his fiery eyes scorch away at your skin whenever he looks at you, but fuck, you love the burn.

He wastes no time in setting an unrelenting pace, slamming into you so hard that you know your body will be covered in bruises tomorrow morning. Bruises on your inner thighs from his sharp hipbones, bruises on your neck from his teeth. A necklace of purple and blue around your neck in the shape of his fingers. Bruises on your heart from his harsh words, degrading little insults spat against your skin as he fucks into you without mercy. But for every bruise, every insult and painful touch, he gives you the sweetest salve. Pretty little words whispered into your ear, reminders that he loves you, that you’re his.

“My baby,” he grunts, voice shaky from exertion. “Gonna cum. Beg for my cum, my dumb little baby. Fucking beg for it.”

You babble, too far gone for your brain to produce any real thoughts. A jumbled mess of need your cum and please nii-san’s fall past your lips. You can hardly think, but you can always beg for him. Your vision is hazy and your mind is foggy, filled with nothing but thoughts of him, and the feeling of his cock slamming into you, and the heat of his breath against your neck. It hurts, hurts so much, but there’s bliss in the ache.

His fingers slip between your legs and toy with your clit, rubbing harsh circles in time with his thrusts. The combined sensation is too much. With a harsh thrust and squeeze of the hand around your neck, your body explodes. You feel as if you’re in fire, as if there’s electricity coursing through your limbs, burning through your blood and short-circuiting your veins. You cum so hard that it almost hurts, pussy clenching and gushing. Touya lets out a growl, so deep that it makes your stomach flip. He grabs your chin and tilts your face up to meet his, squeezing so hard that the pain cuts through your fucked-out haze and makes you gasp. His lips crash into yours, teeth clacking and tongues swirling as he moans into your mouth and releases. You tremble at the sensation, body overloaded and still buzzing with electricity.

After a few painfully long moments, he shifts and finally lets your legs down. Your muscles scream at the movement. Touya reaches over your body to get a water bottle and press it to your lips, making you tilt your head up and take little sips.

Your arms feel like lead, but you force them to move. They wrap around his waist and tug. Your whines are pitiful, but you’re too tired to be embarrassed. “Snuggles,” you beg, looking up at him with glossy, wide eyes.

“Need to clean you up, doll,” he says. His voice is stern, but there’s a fondness in his expression that warms your heart. You shake your heavy head, trying in vain to drag him closer. He chuckles, dipping down to press an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead. “God, you really are so fucking needy, aren’t you?”

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

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Hal, i can't say how happy i am to see you hit such a big number, i've been following you since the beggining and it's so amazing to see this community grow, i love how everyone that interacts is so kind and overall amazing, you deserve that and much more, and i hope things in your personal life keep getting better!! ❤

For the event, i would like to request, if possible, a small drabble of Keegan with a daughter, it can be anything, really! I'm a single mom expecting a baby, and i just need to see a strong military man caring for a child, all your other parent fics just hit the hard in the feelings, so i wanted to see my favorite in this prompt too!

—Hold Her Close

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Keegan cares for his young daughter.] ❞

He holds her carefully as she sits on the back of his neck, hands firm on her legs as they dangle around his shoulders with their tiny little shoes. The child was giggling, no more than seven, as her hands tangled in the black locks of Keegan’s hair and pulled without any real strength; her eyes stared at all the sights to be seen.

It was early at Fort Santa Monica, so early the mist was still in the air and the chill caused the protective father to suit his daughter into a jacket that puffed around her frame. She’d been crying last night, and rather than ask her to try and fall asleep again, he’d gone on his morning run with some company. It didn’t bother him, of course.

She was yours and his daughter—she could never bother him for as long as he lived.

“Having fun up there?” He grunts out, blue eyes shifting up as the child giggles out a small ‘yep,’ and returns to gazing around with glittering eyes. She was so tiny, he thought to himself. So easy to pick up and infect those little eyes with wonder. Everything down to the way the dew looked in the grass was a foreign world to her—mixed with magic and innocence he never wanted to see gone.

“Which way, Sunshine?” Keegan asks, blinking forward at the split in the sidewalk; left or right?

“That way,” her pudgy hand points, and booted feet obey without question. Left it was.

The soldier hums and puffs out a breath of condensation into the air, t-shirt and running shorts swaying around him.

“If you get cold,” he utters, “you tell me, okay?”

“Okay!” Keegan pushes down a smile, blue eyes so soft you could mistake it for dyed room-temperature butter. While he wouldn’t get the workout he had intended in the brightening sun of the morning, with the sound of waves lapping in the air and the scent of his sweat dripping off his nostrils, he’d still enjoy this.

“Can we get hot cocoa?” A hand slaps his forehead and he chuffs a laugh, flinching slightly at the tiny connection of skin.

“Careful, Kid,” the soldier mutters but nods as his daughter's giggles make his chest swell. Damn him, he was done for the moment he’d seen her in the NICU. “Yeah, fine, we can get some hot cocoa. You know something though?”

His daughter's face is above his as he leans his neck back, looking up into her bright face. She blinks, smiling wide.

“What?”

“You’re gonna have to give me a kiss first, Sweetheart.”

“Ew!” She laughs, and Keegan holds her body still as it moves all around in her childish delight, legs kicking out as the man laughs under his breath.

“C’mon,” he huffs, “nothing for your Old Man? I’m hurt. You give Riley kisses on the nose all the time.”

She’s still laughing, holding onto his head. Keegan decides there’s never been a more perfect sound. Without another word, a little smooch is pressed into his hairline, an overdramatic ‘mwah’ sounding off with a raise of hands upwards.

He beams, eyes crinkling and lips pulled back with a wide smile as he shakes his head in amusement. Moving his face forward, the normally stoic soldier sighs and continues on, his daughter on his shoulders and his heart full.

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romirola · 2 years

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First Feeding of Forever (for sri-rachaa)

The lovely and talented @sri-rachaa created this incredible piece of Milo/Sweetheart art for me as part of a fic/art exchange. She requested a fic featuring Vincent comfort her OC for Lovely, Rehna Lee Dawson (she/her.) I tailored this fic specifically to @sri-rachaa's Rehna, including her personality, looks, and pronouns. (I plan to rewrite another version of this fic that features a gender-neutral, non-named Lovely and post that to AO3 eventually, so if you'd like to wait for that version, please do so.)

Rae, thank you SO SO SO much for sharing your work. I adore that piece!!! Thank you so much for your request. I hope you enjoy this fic.

Thanks for reading!

Rating: T, WC: ~5K, Characters: Vincent/Rehna Lee Dawson (Fem!Lovely OC)

Summary: Rehna has been handling the bloodlust well, except that she has been fighting the urge to move from blood-bag feeding only to live feedings. Until she does. Thankfully, Vincent is there to talk her through (and share in) her first live feeding in the forever he promised to give her.

Tags: Love, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Guilt, Rage, Bloodlust, Uncontrollable Hunger, Happy Ending, Support, Trust, Vows of Forever, Adult Language, Consensual Blood Drinking, Tranced Unempowered Human, Oneshot, Fic/Art Exchange

“The skies in Dahlia don’t look quite like this, do they?” Rehna Lee Dawson hummed as she pointed upwards at the sky. “It’s like someone doubled the number of stars and cranked up the brightness by ten times.” She threaded his hands together and used his palms to cradle her head, mindful of her thick, brown hair that was splayed out in every direction across the checkered throw blanket beneath her body. “I could look at a sky like this all day.” She scoffed a bit, the simple error in her speech a stark reminder of how different her life had become after her recent turning. “I mean, all night.”

“I could look at something else all night,” Vincent Solaire answered, shimmying a bit closer to his partner. “Something even prettier than a cloudless night here on the outskirts of Dahlia’s forests.” He flipped onto his side and brushed away a lock of hair that cascaded in front of Rehna’s now-black eyes. “I’ll give you three guess as to what I’m talking about. Or rather, whom I’m talking about.”

Rehna tapped on her chin like she was deep in thought. “Hmmm… Who could that possibly be?” She let out a playful laugh. “Gosh, I wonder... Can I have a hint?”

Vincent wrapped an arm around Rehna’s waist and pulled her a little closer. “Sure can,” he grinned before kissing her passionately. When their lips met, Vincent could’ve sworn that Rehna was still an electro-energetic. Her tongue was somehow still warm inside his mouth, an inviting presence that welcomed him, teased him, and showed him a love he had never let himself dream about when he was human, let alone post-turning. He felt her hand wander along his back, gently landing on the space between his shoulders and rubbing small circles into the spot that sent a jolt of electricity down Vincent’s spine. “Lovely,” he groaned, leaning into them a little harder, not bothering to temper his strength now that Rehna was a vampire, too. “Is this enough of a hint for you?”

“You’re such a flirt,” Rehna groaned when she pulled away from Vincent, patting his chest. “There will be time for that later.” Vincent watched hungrily as she pushed up to her elbows to let Vincent sit up. “If we start making out now, we’ll miss the meteor show!”

“Fine, Rennie, fine,” Vincent harrumphed. As he forced himself to ignore the burning desire he felt for Rehna, Vincent stretched out his foot and hooked his ankle around the handle of the small cooler he brought. “As long we’re just waiting, I think I’ll grab something to drink. What can I get you?” he offered as he retrieved the cooler, taking it in his hand and dragging it up to his chest. “We got all kinds of sodas, a few wine coolers, hard seltzer, plain water…” He sifted through the bag. “And of course, blood bags, in case we get hungry.”

Rehna fought hard not to crinkle their nose at the idea of drinking from the blood bag. She knew that it was necessary for her survival and, to be fair, she never once faulted or felt disgust when Vincent drank from them. She appreciated how well Vincent adapted to his new life and frankly, was thankful that he did, because it was in part what led him to her.

But she was struggling with the blood bags lately, more than she was letting on.

What scared her was that over the last few weeks, when she drank from the blood bags, she never felt as satiated as she had shortly after her turning. She was moving into the phase of the bloodlust where she craved to feed from a live human. Vincent had told her over and over again that when she began to notice and to develop those cravings to let him know so he could arrange for a consensual feeding from a volunteer at one of D.U.M.P.’s vampiric live-donation events.

Rehna was scared. At least drinking blood out of a blood bag preserved a little bit of cognitive dissonance. She could pretend she was drinking something else, anything else. She could pretend that life was still at least somewhat normal. That she didn’t die that awful day at the hands of a life-stealing shade. That Vincent hadn’t had to assume the role of maker without so much as a warning. That she hadn’t lost the electro-powers she worked so hard to master, trading them in for a vampiric magical core that had its perks but still required more training, more education, more assimilation before she felt at home in her own body again.

And most of all, Rehna had found that a diet of blood bags only could let her forget that she had been turned into something she barely recognized. She didn’t want to say anything of the sort to Vincent because she didn’t want him to think that’s how she saw him. Because it wasn’t. At all. She knew in her heart that Vincent was a warm, kind, goofy man who stole her heart and fiercely protected it for all he was worth, vampire or not. He consumed blood out of necessity. It was neither a measure of his humanity, indicative of his personality, nor a sign of monstrosity.

She didn’t know why, but as she found herself moving into this new phase of the bloodlust, Rehna simply couldn’t show herself the same grace. And she couldn’t risk Vincent ever thinking she saw him as anything less than human.

So she kept her feelings inside, hoping she could simply deny them and live off blood bags for eternity.

That plan had been going well for a while. But not anymore.

“Rennie?” Vincent repeated, snapping the newborn vampire out of her thoughts.

“Uhh, sorry,” Rehna apologized. “Just trying to decide what I want,” she said after a moment, expertly maneuvering her inability to lie directly to Vincent. “Diet coke, please.” If using the blood bag stimulated her hunger for live-feeding, Rehna rationalized to herself, maybe avoiding blood for as long as possible would help her avoid the issue entirely tonight. The last thing she wanted to do was spoil her and Vincent’s date night with the headaches, mood swings, cramps, and other unpleasant symptoms the bloodlust caused her.

Some bloodlust symptoms were deeply unpleasant. For Rehna and everyone around her.

Nonplussed, Vincent yanked a diet coke from the cool and popped the top. “Ahh, canned in an Arizona factory," he said haughtily, handing her the soda. "And a 2022?! Oh, what a very good year for the diet coke crop. You can really taste how all the notes of the artificial flavorings mingle together."

Rehna swished the liquid around like she was at a wine tasting event. She sniffed the can, nearly overwhelmed by how strongly and sharply the metallic can gave off a smell that mixed with the cola and took a sip. “Ah, yes, indeed,” she replied, drawing out the vowels. “A very good year for carbonation.”

Vincent rifled through the pockets of his shorts to locate a metal straw. He expertly punctured the blood bag with the tip and began to drink greedily. “There’s plenty when you want it,” he reminded her softly, knowing it had been longer than he expected since Rehna had fed. Like a responsible maker-not-maker, as Vincent often referred to himself, he kept tabs on when and how much blood Rehna consumed as she worked through her bloodlust, but even with a careful eye, Vincent felt at a loss. He had never had a progeny before, so everything was new to him. Moreover, as everyone in the Clan told him as they frequently impart well-meaning, though trite, advice, bloodlusts weren’t universal. Every vampire’s experience of the bloodlust was a different experience, so it wasn’t as if Vincent could know when exactly Rehna would need to feed, how many units she would take, and when to the date she would need to move from blood bags to live feedings. It was all guesswork, so Vincent did his best to notice her consumption habits, support them as best he could, and find a way to be the maker and partner Rehna needed him to be.

“I’m good, thanks.” Rehna waved away his offer quickly, a tight smile across her closed lips.

She was relieved when an owl called out and the “hoo hoo hoo” echoed through the clearing because the sound distracted Vincent enough to drop the subject of her blood consumption. She knew sooner or later, Vincent might get suspicious, but the last thing she wanted to do was ruin their night with vampiric culture lessons. Tonight, she just wanted to watch the meteors, be with Vincent, and forget about everything else.

“Looks like even the animals are going to watch the shower,” Vincent commented.

“I’m sure the owls will have a good spot to look from in the trees,” Rehna added. “This is such a comfy spot, but look.” She pointed towards the right. “Our view is blocked by that group of trees over there. I know we’ve got superhuman vision and all, but we can’t look through the treetops.” She frowned.

Vincent’s eyeline followed where Rehna pointed. “You’re right, Rennie,” he noted. “Damn, I didn’t even notice when we set everything out.” His brow furrowed as he stood. “How about if I can find a better spot for us?” He stretched his back and shoulders.

Rehna gave Vincent a skeptical look. “I don’t think we have time for that before the meteors shower.” This is good, Vincent. I…” She sat up and grabbed at the hem of Vincent's shirt to ask him to sit back down beside her. “I’m sorry I said anything.”

“No, no, no,” Vincent assured her. “I’m glad you did. Only the best for my Lovely,” he winked. “As for time, I won’t be gone long. Superspeed, remember?” In a flash, Vincent was gone and Rehna was alone.

She would've been fine alone with her thoughts. But unfortunately for everyone, an empowered human wandered into her line of enhanced vision. They were wandering along a narrow path in the forest, haphazardly looking from the ground to the sky. Normally, Rehna would've wondered what they were looking for. Or whether she could help them find their way. Or at the very least, she would just ignore the stranger and let them figure things out for themselves.

But tonight, Rehna was hungry. Extremely hungry.

“Just ignore them,” she harshly scolded to herself in a whisper. “Just… Just…” She pinched her eyes shut, trying to will her brain to think of something, anything other than the desperate need to feed that threatened to overtake her mind. Rehna felt the harsh surge of the bloodlust well up in her stomach and flood her every sense.

Before she knew what hit her, she found herself face to face with a terrified unempowered human who gasped and squeaked, quaking with fear. “You’re… you’re… you’re…” they stuttered helplessly. “No, please!”

Lost in hunger, Rehna launched towards the unempowered human’s arm, looking to get her mouth on their bicep. Before she could, however, a strong pair of arms pulled tightly against her waist and pinned her arms to her sides.

Rehna shrieked in agony and frustration. She barely recognized the cry as her own as she fought against whatever was restraining her.

“Relax and freeze,” Vincent ordered calmly, his eyes flickering from silver to black as he enacted the trance. He barely gave the human a second glance, using all of his strength to keep Rehna contained.

Just like that, the empowered human stopped trembling and crying. A small, dazed smile plastered across their face. They remained frozen in place, looking like they did not have a care in the world.

“Let me go!” Rehna wailed, trying to instinctively summon electro magic from her new threads that simply couldn’t oblige her request to conjure the lightning that had previously lent her strength. “I… I need…” She began to claw at Vincent, bringing up little bits of his skin as she tried to escape.

“Rennie, Rennie, Rennie!” Vincent called in her ear, knowing that he had to break through the echoing roar of her bloodlust. As her maker, Vincent was equipped to perform such a feat, though his decision to relinquish his ability to invoke her made it more difficult than it should have been. “You’ve got to stop, Rehna! Please! Not like this!”

“Get off!” Rehna growled. “Let me go! I need to feed. I’m starving! Starving!”

When Rehna didn’t stop her chaotic, feral frenzy, Vincent made the decision to bring her down to the ground. He heaved them both so they toppled over and he scrambled on top of her flailing body. “Lovely, come back to me!” he ordered, a pang of guilt cutting through his chest.

Rehna could feel her fangs cut through her gums, searching in vain to bite down on something. Ripples of white-hot pain shot through her mouth and looped up into her skull. “So hungry…” she mumbled, rocking back and forth to wiggle out of Vincent’s strong grip. “It hurts. Everywhere, all over…” Tears pooled on the rims of her eyes as her muscles shook from the exhaustion of fighting back against Vincent. The subtle southern accent she claimed she had lost years ago resurfaced. It was a measure of her utter despair. “Please help?”

“I’m right here, Lovely,” Vincent assured her. Her turmoil broke his heart. “Everything’s going to be alright now. Just stay with me.” Without letting up pressure for a single second, he bent his head low and kissed her on the forehead.

Rehna whimpered as she started to come back to herself. Despite the agony that still blossomed through her body, she was starting to realize that springing up on an unsuspecting, unempowered human without even trancing them first was not at all the safe, ethical way to feed. It certainly wasn’t a safe way to feed from a live person for the first time. How could she have been so quick to give into her instincts like that? And after everything she had endured after Adam’s cruel torture? Suddenly, a sinking thought made Rehna’s blood turn cold and curdle.

Was she a monster?

“Vincent,” she panted, willing her body to stop resisting Vincent’s hold. “‘M’sorry…”

Vincent quickly hushed her. “Just get through this flare up, and I promise, I’ll let you feed. But not like this. We can’t let your body think you need to work yourself into a frenzy every time you need to feed.” Even as Rehna relaxed, his legs tightened around the outsides of her thighs, just in case she made a break for it. When Vincent was convinced Rehna was going to stay put, he swept his hand through her hair, noting the sudden sweat that had broken out in beads along her forehead. “You’ll get through this. It’ll pass, Rennie.”

At Vincent’s soft words, the tension seeped out of Rehna’s body. “When?” she asked, the first tear dripping down her cheek. “When will it be over? When will I have my life back?” She flipped her cheek to the side, as if to hide away from Vincent.

Vincent nudged the side of her neck so that her gaze settled back onto him. “I don’t know,” he said, cursing his inability to lie. Vincent let his thumb linger on a spot he knew he used to lock onto as he fed from them. “But I know that it will.” It would be months before she was up to any sort of vampire-on-vampire feeding, and while Vincent sometimes caught himself missing the taste and feel of her blood, he was too grateful that she had allowed him to turn her so that he could continue having her in his eternal life.

That day, he had promised her forever. And Vincent Solaire was a man of his word.

“I’m going to let you up now,” he told her slowly. “Are you okay?”

Rehna nodded. “Y-yes,” she sighed, wishing the ground would swallow her whole.

As soon as Vincent withdrew his weight, Rehna launched into his arms and held even tighter. “I’m so sorry,” she cried into his chest. “I couldn't help it.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Vincent consoled, rubbing a large circle into her back with his palm. “You’re okay. It’s not your fault, Little One.” He covered her cheek in soft, chaste kisses. “You’re being so strong through all this. A moment of weakness is expected. I’m sorry you have to endure the hellish part of the bloodlust.”

Pulling away from him, Rehna swiped at her puffy eyes. “It is, though. It is my fault. I’ve been craving live feedings, and I didn’t say anything because I was nervous. Even though I know it’s stupid to be nervous!” She hunched closer to Vincent. “Every vampire does it. I know that. It’s ethical. It’s necessary. It’s how your Clan, err, our Clan… It’s how our Clan survives. I drink from the bags just fine. It’s not that different. Why can’t I get over this?” She let her chin rest in the crook of Vincent’s neck. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Rennie, no, no,” Vincent crooned. “You don’t have a thing to be sorry for. You’re right that every vampire feeds from people to survive, Lovely.” He tipped his head so that his temple met the crown of her head. “But every vampire also has to make that adjustment over a period of time. We understand how awful and disorienting the bloodlust can be. One minute, you’re starving and will do anything for a drop of blood. The next, you’re nearly vomiting at the thought. It’s okay, Lovely. It’s normal.”

Rehna faltered at Vincent’s kindness and warmth. “Really?” she hiccupped.

“Really,” Vincent replied.

“I… I get nervous sometimes,” she explained. At that moment, Rehna didn’t know what was more difficult: being caught in the throes of the bloodlust or unabashedly unburdening herself for Vincent. Trusting someone as deeply and completely as she trusted Vincent still felt new and scary, even after all these years together. After all, it wasn't all that long ago that trust was a luxury she couldn't afford. "I worry that if I struggle with all the…” She fidgeted with her hands, trying to find a phrase that could soften the harshness of what she was describing. “New stuff, you know what I mean? The new stuff that comes with being a vampire.”

Vincent nodded rapidly to show that he knew exactly what Rehna meant by the deceptively tepid phrase.

“I got it in my head that if I showed any hesitation towards the new stuff, that you’d think I was resisting a vampiric way or life, or worse.” She sniffed. “That I was resisting you. And even if I didn’t lie to you about it, I worked around the truth when I spoke with you to keep it secret” Rehna collapsed into Vincent and lopped her arms around his neck. “But I’m not resisting you or your way of life, okay? I’m not! I promise, I’m not. Please don’t think that, Vincent. Please, please, please,” she half-chanted, half-cried.

Vincent let himself be pulled close, taking the opportunity to breathe deeply so that Rehna’s scent surrounded him. “Oh, Lovely,” he answered, the gentle lilt of his voice matching the slight rocking motion he used to keep his partner calm. “You don’t have to worry about that at all, Rennie. Never. You don’t need to regulate yourself and your own emotions for my sake.” He swiped his index finger along the curve of her ribs. “What you’re going through is so difficult. It’s visceral and raw. A complete overhaul of your biology and magic-physiology. You can’t force yourself to bury it all inside yourself.” He planted a kiss at her hairline. “The only way you’re going to get past this is to let yourself feel it, Rennie. And feel it all. No vampire would ever fault you for that, or interpret your feelings as offensive. Least of all, me.”

“You’re right,” she admitted. “I’ve been trying to ignore the shift in feeding phase, hoping it would just go away. All I succeeded in doing was intensifying it.”

Vincent sighed. “I won’t lie to you. Well, I can’t lie to you anymore,” he corrected to add a bit of levity. “The bloodlust is fucking horrific to experience. You know that. You’ve felt it. But, you’re strong. You are the strongest person I’ve ever met. You can get through this, Rennie. I know you can.”

Rehna was silently grateful to know that William had invoked Vincent to take away his ability to lie to her. It was a great comfort for her to know that Vincent truly and wholly believed in her ability to overcome the bloodlust and reclaim her new life.

“Besides,” Vincent added sheepishly. “I should’ve been more attentive and noticed how your appetite dipped. I should’ve encouraged you to try feeding or at least schedule a time, so you wouldn’t have to get to a point where you would spring up on some unempowered person and risk covert.” Vincent nuzzled his face into the waves of her hair. "That's what a good maker would do. I'm sorry I failed you, Lovely."

“Failed?” Rehna echoed incredulously. “Vincent, you didn’t fail me.” She was taken back by Vincent’s confession, but not thoroughly surprised. Despite his playboy reputation, Vincent had proven time and time again he had a big heart and a protective streak that would rival even an alpha shifter. “Not at all, my love. Don’t you know that you save me every day? And I’m not just talking about when I was taken, or turning me during the Inversion. Every day, Vincent,” she emphasized. “When you watch a movie with me and fall asleep. When you rub my shoulders when I’m driving for a while. When you smile at me. When you accept my love without conditions. Every day.” She kissed him deeply to add weight to her words.

“I love you so much,” Vincent groaned through their kiss. He tipped forward, guiding Rehna to the ground as their bodies sealed together.

As Vincent moved his hand up her torso, his fingertips accidentally grazed against what felt like denim. Vincent flicked his eyes to the side, suddenly remembering that the tranced unempowered human was still obeying his command and stood there like a dazed and relaxed statue.

“Oh, shit!” He reluctantly scrambled off of Rehna. “The human!” Vincent cried.

Rehna quickly forced herself to her feet. “I totally forgot!” She looked at the stranger. “Are they okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Vincent smiled. “They could stay like that for hours.” He raised an eyebrow. “In fact, if you’re still hungry…” He gestured towards the human. “I know most people usually use volunteer donors first, but, it’s kind of romantic, don’t you think? You and me, feeding together under a meteor shower…”

Rehna almost rejected Vincent’s offer. That was her instinct, to push away her own desires in an effort to come across as amiable, or at the very least, convenient. Not a liability. She didn’t want to give anyone the chance to find a reason to leave her behind.

But Vincent was different. He always had been. And he always would be.

“I know that it’s daunting, but I’m right here to talk you through it,” he offered. It was a rare moment that Vincent took on the regality everyone expected of him as the Clan King’s progeny. “I won’t leave you to do this alone. Never.”

“Okay,” Rehna agreed, already feeling her hunger return. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Good, good,” Vincent said. “Thank you, for trusting me to help with this.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Now, I’ve already tranced them. We can go over trancing some other time. Did your fangs drop?”

Rehna tracked her tongue along her gums and found the sharper set of teeth had returned. “Mhmm,” she reported.

“Excellent,” Vincent praised. “Now, when you get close to their skin, you’ll find that you’re magically drawn to a vein. That’ll be the best spot to puncture.”

Rehna followed Vincent’s instructions, leaning into the almost-magnetic pull she felt towards the human’s jugular. “Here,” she pointed, pulling down their collar a bit to expose the skin. “I feel it. Right here.”

“You’re doing really good, Lovely,” Vincent smiled. “Now, slowly and gently, you’re going to angle your top fangs to sink in right there.”

As Vincent spoke, Lovely bit down. The soft squish sound reverberated in her highly sensitive ears.

“There you go, there you go,” Vincent grinned. “Now feed, Little One.”

Rehna eagerly did as Vincent told her, sucking every drop of blood from the empowered human. She licked her lips gratefully, feeling the rush of energy and sanitation fill her with every swallow. The blood was warm, much warmer than when the liquid came from a thawed blood bag. The flavor was thick, almost cloying, but Rehna loved every bit of it. She glanced up at the unempowered human, nervous she would see fear or disgust. She didn’t. The trance had kept them blissfully unaware of what was happening. It didn’t take long for her to feel full. Because the blood was from a live donor and she was just starting to enter this phase of the bloodlust, her stomach was not yet adjusted to needing a full unit.

“Getting full,” she murmured through mouthfuls, suddenly afraid to let her lips leave the human’s skin. “What do I do now?”

Even though Vincent was able to pick up on her mumbled question, he already anticipated she’d feel that way. “I’ll show you,” he assured her. “Go ahead and let up. I’m going to feed, too.” Vincent had watched carefully and knew that he could safely take more blood without harming the human.

Rehna moved aside. Before a drop of blood dripped, Vincent had his mouth of the human and drank deeply. “As you move away from the wound, you channel healing magic through your fangs,” Vincent patiently explained.

Rehna leaned over to watch Vincent’s healing handiwork. She was in awe at how delicate a process it was to feed. Like a moving art form. It wasn’t at all the animalistic free-for-all she worried it was going to be.

“That’s why the first bite is so important,” Vincent noted. He knew how important this first feeding was. A successful, calm feeding set Rehna on a path of having a healthy attitude towards her vampiric nature. A stressful first feeding was a disaster for progeny, and fostered even more self-loathing and hesitancy to adapt to vampire culture. “You follow the same line as you heal, and by the time you break contact…” He pointed to the spot where they had been feeding. “Not a trace of a wound left.”

“Wow,” Rehna beamed.

“Something I like to do is even ask the person, while they're under the trance, if they feel okay. If they don’t, you’ll have to hang out and let them recuperate for a few more minutes before you release them.” Vincent turned to his victim. “Tell me how you feel,” he stoically commanded.

“I feel fine,” the unempowered human reported in a monotone.

“One satisfied customer,” Vincent joked. “Then I want you to forget everything that happened when you were with us tonight. Instead, you’ll think that you were walking in the forest, got lost, and eventually found your way back to your car. Once you arrive at your car, this trance will wear off and you’ll return to your normal self. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” the human confirmed.

“Good. Then please do that,” Vincent suggested.

Without another word, the human mindlessly obeyed Vincent and left the pair of vampires to the night.

“So, how was it?” Vincent asked. “You feel okay?”

“I feel better than okay,” Rehna answered, idly playing with the necklace. Technically it was Vincent’s. It had been a gift to him from William, but over the last few years, the necklace found its way onto Rehna’s neck more often than Vincent’s. “I feel full. Satisfied. Better than I have in weeks.” She weaved her fingers in between Vincent’s. “Thank you, Vincent. You are the best maker. And the best partner. I’m so lucky you’re here with me.”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be, Lovely,” Vincent affirmed truthfully.

At that moment, a few sparks of brightness shot through the sky, one after another. “Look!” Rehna gasped, pointing to the sky. “The shower is starting!”

“I think we found our spot.” Vincent guided Rehna to a seat on the ground. Her back came to his chest as they gazed at the sky and watched the meteors dance and sparkle before their eyes.

“You know, most meteors disintegrate before they ever hit Earth’s surface,” Rehna noted quietly. “All that ferocity, burning brightly and intensely one moment and poof, gone the next.”

“Maybe they aren’t gone totally,” Vincent postulated. “They just turn into something new.”

It was like a private show, just for the pair.

It was like a quiet, little reprieve for both Vincent and Rehna. Everything was so different. Neither of them could deny that. But the fact that they were together and would always be together, especially now that they had forever.

#redacted asmr #redacted fanfiction #redactedverse #redacted vincent #vincent solaire #redacted lovely #fem!lovley #sri-rachaa's oc #bloodlust comfort #fic/art exchange

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elysianslove · 4 years

Note

congrats on 5k omg !! this event is so cute <3

but yah, can i have 3:45am with issei + car seggs

please & thank you!

i hope i did this right :p

i missed his birthday yesterday, but this one’s still for you issei :( also thank you so much, and thank you for requesting!! <3

5k Followers Event! — matsukawa issei and car sex

[3:45 am]

it’s cramped, so fucking cramped and tight and suffocating in this car, but it doesn’t really matter, and you can say with full honesty that you’ve thought of that fact only once in total since issei had dragged you out of iwaizumi’s home and drove off into an empty parking lot.

there hadn’t been anything specific to tick him off, nothing that really explains why he’d grabbed your wrist in such a hurry and rushed to ravish you as soon as he could, like you’d disappear by the time you would’ve arrived home. but really, there doesn’t need to be an explanation. sometimes, issei’s just so fucking horny for no reason, and you genuinely can’t say much for yourself, because being with someone like him has your sex drive impossibly high. being with someone that’s so effortlessly attractive, that a small smile and the cock of his head has your thighs rubbing together, and an innocent stretch of his arms upwards, revealing a tiny portion of his stomach, the dark trail of hair that leads downwards has your lungs collapsing in on themselves.

so, in order to remain honest with yourself, you can’t simply blame him, and him only.

your lips are slightly numb as issei harshly kisses you, mouth pressing down so hard it barely even feels like a kiss. but you welcome him anyways; your hands snake their way around his neck and your fingers reach for his hair as you scratch and pull, while he hovers above you, hands wandering freely along your body, touching and kneading and grasping tightly. it can’t be comfortable, the position he’s in. issei’s not only tall, but he’s big too, in every aspect. but with the lack of complaints coming from him and the deep, throaty groans that leave you trembling beneath him stop you from saying anything.

when his hands lower to exactly where you need them to be, you’re suddenly impossibly grateful you wore a skirt.

“’sei, ‘sei,” you chant, as his lips fall from yours to kiss at your neck instead, his fingers rubbing at your clothed clit, your underwear drenched through embarrassingly. he places an open mouthed kiss at your neck, sucking and licking lightly at your skin. “issei, fuck me, please, please.”

the words he says next seem almost painful for him to admit. “baby i can’t just— i’ll hurt you.”

you whine desperately, pleadingly, hips rolling up, brushing against his bulge. “don’t care, don’t care, don’t care— want it to hurt.”

maybe you’re the unreasonably horny one.

it’s a blur of shit you can’t jus’ say things like that and fine, i’ll fuck you real good, before he pushes your underwear aside, stretching them so much that you hear a snap and a crack at the pull, and then he’s sinking into you, ever so slowly because he physically can’t move any faster. you’re so tight around him, your cunt gripping his cock like a vice, walls spasming around his thick length as you take more and more of him. you’re a trembling mess beneath him, chest heaving, mouth messily swollen and wet as your tongue lolls out dumbly.

god, the things he does to you.

“relax for me baby,” he urges, a palm pressed to your lower stomach. it makes you squirm underneath his touch, but all that does is shift his half sheathed cock within you, making you whine and clench down even tighter around him. he hisses, groans, palm pressing harder down on you in warning. “relax.”

you choke out a moan, gasping out fervently as he begins to move again, pushing more of him inside of you. “god, fuck, there’s more?”

at this, issei laughs, but it’s strained. “you can take it, can’t you?” he wonders, and although he tries to make it sound like genuine worry for you, all he manages to tone it as is mockery. it’s just a rhetorical question, aimed at making you even more obedient for him. and you listen, of course you do. you sigh and nod and shift your head sideways, shutting your eyes tightly as he finally bottoms out. “m’gonna fuck you now.”

it’s the only warning you receive before he pulls out, and fucks back into you deeply with one single, harsh thrust. it makes you scream, your back arching up in reflex. he pulls out again quickly, thrusting back in, creating a rhythm. he’s fucking you faster than he ever has before, one hand remaining on your lower stomach, maintaining the dizzying pressure, while the other scrambles up to find purchase on the car door. he grips it tightly, uses it as leverage to fuck into you faster.

he’s breathless and strong and big and fucking gorgeous above you. even if you’re in a dark, empty parking lot, even if you can barely see him, you see enough of him. and you know it too. you don’t have to see it directly to be able to tell that there’s literally not a hotter sight to view. his skin is glistening slightly from the sweat due to the exertion and the tight space of the car, and if he were to lean close enough, you’d see the pink dust tinting his cheeks, and you know it’d be the perfect addition to his skin tone.

everything about him is so fucking intoxicating, that even just thinking about how attractive he is has you embarrassingly close to orgasming.

“i’m gonna cum,” you cry out, voice high pitched and so small.

“i— shit, i know,” he groans, his nails digging into the skin of your stomach, his palm pressing down even harder, and you keen. god, is he in your stomach? his cock’s reaching parts of you you always think is impossible ever time he fucks you like this— every time he fucks you, ever. he grazes along every sensitive spot within you that’s borderline painful, yet so addicting. “you’re tightening ‘round me like crazy.”

you sob again, arms reaching for him and pulling him closer. willingly, he falls on top of you, barely able to hold himself up from fully crushing you. “i’m gonna cum,” you squeal out, arms squeezing at him, legs shaking around him as he presses his hand down just once more, before you’re sent over. “fuck, hngh, fuck— issei.”

your screams are dissolving into quiet cries and sighs as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, your body’s trembles dying down. “you’re so— so fucking good to me,” he gasps, head buried in your neck as you pat at his sweaty hair, his hips rocking into yours slowly yet efficiently, riding out his high.

in response, you only moan appreciatively, combing softly through his hair as you momentarily shiver, your brain still clouded over from the rush of your orgasm.

“baby,” he mumbles into your neck, turning his head slightly to kiss and nip at your ear, at your jaw, your neck. “can we fuck again when we get home?”

you laugh loudly, turning your head to press a firm, gentle kiss to his temple. “over every surface,” you agree.

when he lifts himself up, he’s grinning cheekily, leaning down to ghost his lips directly over yours as he continues for you, “starting with the bathroom sink, then the shower, then the floor...” his grin doesn’t falter as he leans to press his lips on yours, and you hum a laugh against his lips. “every surface,” he adds, before he’s kissing you again.

every surface, you recite, if you manage to even leave the car.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei smut #matsukawa smut #matsukawa issei x reader #mattsun x reader #mattsun smut #sal's 5k event <3

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sundaysundaes · 4 years

Text

Whispers

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 5k | Idol AU

Summary: Donghyuck has been busy promoting his new album and no matter how much he misses you, he can’t see you in person due to his schedules. Desperate for your touch, he begins to call you late at night.

Warnings: Phone sex, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk (but is it still called ‘dirty talk’ if Donghyuck is just being honest and saying whatever that comes to his mind?), no plot with a lot of dialogues

The vibration of your iPhone wakes you up from your dream. Being thrown back so suddenly to reality makes you feel slightly lightheaded but it’s all worth it the second you see his name written on your screen. Rubbing your eyes away from sleep, you answer his call, “Hyuck?”

“Hey, Noona.” The airiness of his honeyed voice sounds familiar and pleasant in your ears that it instantly paints a smile on your face. “Did I wake you?”

You refrain yourself from yawning. “Yeah, I fell asleep reading.” Narrowing your eyes irritatedly at the brightness of the fluorescent light hanging on your ceiling, you decide to switch it off and uses the dim glow of the bedside lamp instead.

“What time is it?” He gasps when he notices the time on his screen. “Three AM?! Shit, I didn’t realize it was this late. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t be sleeping anyway. I still have to work on my papers, so it’s actually good that you woke me up.” You nuzzle close to the pillow, holding your phone to your ear with one hand, blinking sleepily. “Did you just get back from schedule?”

“Yeah.” He sighs wearily. “I’m dead tired right now. I wish I could just take a day off, you know? I mean, performing is fun, but promoting a new album can be so hectic. I’ve only been sleeping for, like, two hours per day since last week.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You bring the teddy bear he’d given you on your birthday close to your chest, pretending like you were embracing him. “I wish you could take some days off, too.”

“Yeah?” Somehow, he sounds like he’s smiling. “Then do what?”

“I don’t know, play games, I guess? Or just lie around in bed, doing nothing.”

“I’d rather be doing something, actually.” He chuckles softly, a hint of teasing in his voice. “Or someone.”

“Gross,” you retort but you can feel your lips curving upwards. “It’s okay if you want to rest, Hyuck. You don’t have to force yourself to call me every day. Your health should be your number one priority.”

“What, you don’t want me to call you?”

You freeze. “Of course I want you to call me. I just—”

“I thought you’d be excited to hear my voice.”

The sudden bitterness in his tone makes you sit up from the bed, eyebrows adjoined in confusion. “What—Hyuck—”

“You know what?” He exhales loudly. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have called. It’s late anyway.“

“Can you please just listen—”

“I’m tired. Let’s just talk tomorrow.”

“But—”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Hyuck—” But you’re only answered by silence when the line gets disconnected. You stare at your phone, eyes wide in disbelief.

What the hell just happened?

Upset and vexed, you dial his number. You wait with your jaw clenched until he picks up on the fourth ring. “Can’t you listen to me for one second?!” Not sure if it’s because of the drowsiness or exhaustion, but you find yourself shouting even before he says anything. “Of course, I want you to call me, you idiot! It’s the only thing I’ve been waiting all day. Every day, Hyuck, I wait for your call every day. I keep catching myself checking on my phone every ten minutes, waiting for your texts, wanting to call you. I miss you, of course, I miss you—you’re—” You turn stiff when you hear him cackling from the other side of the phone. “Are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry.” His laughter is contagious but you put up your best effort not to get infected. “You’re so cute when you get all riled up. Isn’t it obvious that I was just joking?”

“Right. I’m hanging up.”

“Wait, Noona—” You listen to him with your eyes throwing ice daggers to the wall. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise.” There’s a small pause where you’re too irritated to talk and he’s too unsure to start but he tries. “So, like… you miss me?”

“Not right now.”

“Aaw, come on, I was just messing around.” You can imagine him puckering his lips, batting his eyelashes for forgiveness. “Please, tell me. Tell me how much you miss me.”

You throw yourself back to the bed, huffing. “I don’t think I want to.”

“You get cuter when you’re angry, you know that?” He sighs to the air. “Aaah… I miss you. I miss you so much, Noona, you don’t even know. Probably more than you miss me.”

I don’t think that’s possible. “Of course,” you reply, holding back a smile from breaking on your face. “Since I only miss you a little bit.”

“A little bit?”

“A tiny, tiny bit. On second thought, maybe I don’t miss you at all.”

“Is that so?” You can tell he’s exhausted by the way he lets out his chuckle, but it doesn’t mean it’s less sincere. “It really has been a while since we last saw each other, hasn’t it?”

You nod to yourself. “Four months.”

“You keep count, huh?” His teasing tone makes you flushed. “Love me that much, do you?”

“Around four months,” you correct him, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible when the truth is, you can practically hear your heart hammering against your ribcages. “Or maybe three? Five? I don’t know.”

“Why are you so cute? Seriously, how can you be this cute?” Donghyuck sits on the edge of his bed, lips forming so widely that it nearly splits his face in half. When his chuckles have receded, his eyes begin to soften. “I love you, Noona. You know that, right?”

People might be thinking about how lucky you are to have a member of one of the most prestigious boybands in the world confessing his love for you at 3 AM, but honestly? You’re just so grateful for the fact that Lee Donghyuck, a boy who stole your heart nearly a decade ago when you were too young to even understand the word love, finally realized that your entire relationship with him was deeper than a mere friendship. It took years for both of you to finally gain enough bravery to act out your feelings, especially when he managed to shine brighter than you could ever imagine being. You were afraid of it—afraid that you would be burnt by his fame, afraid that he would discard you for he had everything and you only had him. But Donghyuck didn’t want anything. He only wanted you.

You love him. You’ve been loving him for as long as you can remember so hearing him say the words, no matter how often he has mentioned it already, still sparks fire through your veins. You’ll never admit that out loud, though.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot these days,” he sheepishly adds.

“More than you think about yourself?” You snort. “I’m shocked.”

“Eeyyy, I’m serious.” The sound of your giggle makes him sigh, longing to hear it in person. “I wish I could be with you right now. I thought about you a lot during today’s photoshoot too.” He lies down on the bed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought about our last date. About that red dress you wore. Man, you looked so cute in that dress.”

You half-buried your face in the pillow, heat blossoming on your cheeks. “Now this is the topic I like to talk about.”

Donghyuck scrunches up his nose. “Aren’t you gonna say I looked nice too that day?”

Even the slightest thought of him—any version of him, whether it was him dressing handsomely on a date or him waking up in the morning with a bird’s nest on his head—never fails to send butterflies swirling in your stomach, but again, you’ll never admit that out loud. “Meh,” you jeer, even adding a shrug when you know he won’t be able to see. “Could’ve dressed better. I mean, ripped jeans? Really?”

“Yah, yah, yah. You said I looked good wearing those jeans!”

“We were going to a fancy restaurant and I wore a semi-formal dress, Hyuck. They just didn’t match my outfit. They didn’t match anyone’s outfit there, really.”

“Really? You’re gonna say that? Even after you spent the whole night stealing glances at me with drool on your face?”

You wish you could say he was lying, but you indeed spent the entire night drooling at him over the sight of his black leather jacket and the way his jeans just wrapped his thighs so perfectly. “I have lost interest in this topic.” It’s for the best before you combust into flames. “Where are you right now?”

“Back at the dorm.” He softly yawns. “In my room.”

“Alone?”

“Yep, since Johnny-hyung is filming out of town.” When you stay quiet, unsure of what to say, Donghyuck grins mischievously. “Why, do you wanna sneak in? I think I can afford to lose some sleep tonight, if you know what I mean.”

Flustered, you retort, “After Johnny caught us cuddling last time? No way.”

“Yeah, about that,” Donghyuck says a little awkwardly, “After you went home he said to me that he heard the whole thing—”

“What do you mean the whole thing?” The horror in your face and your voice is clear.

“I meant, the whole thing. Us having sex and stuff.”

You could practically feel the exact moment when your soul is leaving your body, but Donghyuck continues as if he’s simply talking about getting caught cheating during a test. “But it’s okay, he’s cool. He’s got my back.”

“Oh my God.” You nearly faint. “I will never show my face in front of your roommate, ever again.”

“Yeah, about that—“

“Are you fucking kidding me, Hyuck—”

“Jaehyun-hyung heard us too.”

“What?!”

“And he told Mark-hyung about it later on, and that’s the reason why I had this bump on my head for three days.” Donghyuck pouts, rubbing the back of his head, lean fingers carding through soft brown locks. “He hit me with a book, lecturing me about bringing you to the dorm as if he never did that himself.”

Not trying to overreact about it, but you’re suffocating by this point. “Why are you so chill about this?!”

“They heard us having sex, not murdering the innocents.” He rolls his eyes but seems amused at your reaction. “To be honest, I hear a lot of stuff happening in our dorm that I’m sure you don’t wanna know. Like, a lot a lot. Way worse than what I did with you.”

“And does Taeyong know about this?”

“Taeyong-hyung needs his beauty sleep so we agreed not to tell him stuff.”

“I feel sorry for him.”

“I just feel sorry he’s not part of our antics.” Donghyuck shrugs, kicking off his shoes and socks before he leans against the headboard. “How about you? Are you alone?”

“Yeah.” You heavily sigh, still feeling quite dizzy after hearing the truth he just blurted out. “My roommate’s gone for the weekend.”

“Oh…” He taps his fingers against his stomach, a weird feeling swirling inside his chest as a thought begins to form. “That’s… great…”

Donghyuck’s tongue lays heavy in his mouth, suddenly loses the ability to form a simple conversation as his mind begins to focus entirely on something else. It all started that one night when he pretended to be asleep, when in fact, he was listening to his roommate, Johnny, speaking to his girlfriend in hushed whispers. The way the older man was chuckling to his phone was suspicious, and the more he tried to listen intently, the more he realized that Johnny wasn’t conversing. He was giving orders with a voice thick with seduction. The sensual words Johnny used made Donghyuck’s ears turn scarlet, and he buried his face deeper behind his blanket. Since then, the curiosity within him has been rising more and more, nearly suffocating him sometimes when he desperately yearned for your touch but his schedule never let him take a goddamn break.

Not knowing the dirty thoughts that flit across his mind, you carry on your conversation like usual. “I guess, but it does get lonely sometimes when she’s not around. I actually like having a roommate.” The sandalwood aroma from your diffuser, combined with his velvety voice, comforts you and you’re finally able to relax. “Have you been eating well? I’ve been craving for strawberry—”

“What are you wearing?”

“—pancakes—what?”

“I…” Donghyuck heaves out a heavy breath, biting the corner of his lip, unsure yet not ready to give up on his desire. “I just… I was wondering—Are you wearing pajamas?”

“Umm…” The way he asks about it sends heat rising to your cheeks. He doesn’t sound as innocent as the words he uses. You look down, fingers curling at the hemline of your clothes. “I’m wearing one of your shirts, actually.”

Donghyuck throws his head back, eyes tightly shut as he curses silently into the air, his phone pressed against his chest. The sight of you wearing his oversized shirt has been one of his most recurring fantasies and not being able to see you, but knowing that you are wearing his shirt, kills him.

“Hyuck?”

Donghyuck brings his phone back to his ear. “Sorry, there was a… Mark.” He mentally slaps himself on the head.

“There was a Mark?”

“I mean, Mark-hyung was here—but he just left so—"

“Are you drunk again?”

“No!” Donghyuck rubs his temple. This is not going well, he shouts in his mind. “Why—” He winces when he hears his voice crack. Clearing his throat, he tries again. “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

Because it smells like you and it helps me sleep better. “Just because,” you quietly mumble, eyes locked to the ceiling. “Why are you asking me this exactly?”

“Just because,” he mimics. His breathing sounds more prominent as if he’s in the same room, only a few inches away from your ear. It’s the reason why you enjoy talking to him this way instead of taking video calls. You can focus solely on his honeyed voice, almost like a lullaby to your ears. “Can you tell me…” he continues, laced with both hesitation and anticipation, “What else you're wearing?”

“Umm…” You take a deep breath, trying to keep yourself composed. “I don’t think I want to say.”

“Please, Noona.” The sudden desperation in his plead startles you as if he’s losing control of himself, little by little. He seems to notice that too because when he speaks again, it’s steadier, almost formal. “I just… I want to know. If that’s okay.”

“Well…” You curl your toes. “Aside from your shirt, I’m…” Just say it, for God’s sake. He’s your boyfriend. He’s seen you naked. “I’m only wearing my panties.”

There’s a pause that makes your heart thump. “Not, uhh…” Donghyuck wets his lip. “Not even a bra?”

You fiddle with your fingers. “N-no.”

“Fuck.”

You nearly drop your phone. The guttural groan he just emitted from the back of his throat catches you off guard. “Hyuck..?”

“Noona, there’s—” Donghyuck sits up straight, nails nearly sinking to his jean-clad thigh. “There’s something I want to try.” There’s a sense of urgency mixed with minimum self-control. “I-if you don’t mind…”

You know where this is going. “What is it?”

“Just—Just follow my lead, okay?”

You shakily nod your head. When he calls out your name again, you remember that you have to say it in words. “Okay.”

“Can you…” Donghyuck’s heart is beating out of control. His mind desperately tries to answer how the fuck do I start this?! “Can you, umm, lie down on the bed for me?”

You can tell he’s nervous and it’s both reassuring and endearing to know that he’s never done this with anyone else before and probably not mentally ready to do it with you, but tries to go all the way because he knows both of you need to find a way to release all of these pent-up emotions.

You follow his order. “I’m…” You take a deep breath so your voice won’t tremble too much. “I’m lying on my bed.”

Donghyuck always takes a few seconds before answering, as if he’s battling inside his head as he tries to sort out his thoughts. “Is your light turned on?”

“Yes.”

“Turn it off.”

You switch off the button on your bedside lamp. “Okay, it’s off.”

“Okay, mine too.” Then all you can hear is his slightly ragged breathing. “It’s… a bit awkward, isn’t it?” He chuckles nervously, followed by an inaudible, “Fuck, why am I so nervous,” as he’s straying away from the phone.

A smile paints your lips. “You’re adorable.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

When silence strikes, Donghyuck scratches his cheek. “Do you… want to know what I’m wearing?”

You gulp. “S-sure.”

“Well…” Donghyuck takes a look at himself. “I’m wearing a denim jacket, a white shirt, a pair of jeans—I just got back from a photoshoot so—”

So he must look good. “Take them off.”

He’s probably as startled as you are when you hear the words tumbling down your mouth. But even if he is as embarrassed as you are, he doesn’t make it as obvious. “Sure.” A rustling sound can be heard, and you let your imagination wander. You can tell he’s taking off his jacket and soon, his shirt will follow. Donghyuck would always take his shirt off by grabbing the fabric from the back and yank it over his head, instead of crossing his arms at his waist. There’s something masculine about it, but you tend to get more distracted at the way his muscles would contract in his lean stomach. His silver necklace would dangle around his neck, and he’d smirk whenever he caught you staring at him for a second too long.

“My shirt’s off,” he quietly states, snapping you out of your reverie. “Now take yours off—wait! Wait. Leave it on. I want to imagine you wearing my shirt. Just take off your panties.”

“I’m—” It’s so damn hard to focus when you feel so ashamed just by hearing his instructions. “Okay…” Your fingers are quivering when they slide down your stomach, thumb hooking around the hem before you pull your lingerie down to the middle of your thighs.

“Lie down,” he whispers, “Prop a pillow behind your back. Are you comfortable?”

“Y-yeah, just…” You sigh, head going dizzy. “Embarrassed.”

The airy laughter that flows from his mouth is too innocent to be heard in this kind of situation. “So cute. Me too, actually. I’ve never done this before.” When his chuckles have receded, the nervousness grows vivid in his voice once again. “Do you, umm... Do you want to stop?”

You’re supposed to say yes, or at least a bit conflicted about it, so it shocks you when you immediately answer, “No,” without hesitation.

“Thank God.” Donghyuck sighs, smiling softly against the phone. “‘Cause I wouldn’t know what to do if you said yes.” He unbuckles his belt with one hand, taking it off as his heartbeat soars through the roof. “Then, umm… can you spread your legs? As wide as you can.”

You feel so exposed even when no one is looking. Following his guidance, you question, “What about you? What are you doing?”

“I’m…” Donghyuck swallows hard, looking down at the way his hand is pressing against his semi-hardness. “I’m rubbing myself over my pants.”

Fuck, you mentally groan. “Why aren’t you touching yourself directly?”

“Cause I want to wait for you.” He has his eyes closed, hand slipping under the hemline of his jeans, stroking himself over his boxer. “I want to picture you rubbing your fingers on your clit. I want to hear you moan my name when you do.”

Oh my God. “Then guide me,” you plead. There’s something so irresistibly sexy about him touching himself while picturing you pleasuring yourself with your fingers. “Tell me what to do, Hyuck.”

He runs his tongue over his lower lip. The excitement of being able to act as a puppeteer, tugging on your strings, sends all blood rushing south. “Can you push your shirt up? Don’t take it off, just—” He exhales, taking a moment to collect himself after a certain obscene thought of you touching yourself entered his mind. “Just make sure it’s not in the way.”

“Okay.” You grip the hemline of your shirt, pulling it up until it pools above your chest. “Now, what?”

“I want you to touch your breasts.” You’re more aroused by his breathy voice and lustful tone than embarrassed at this point. “Imagine me, Noona,” Donghyuck whispers, and he sounds so close, as if he’s lying down next to you. “Imagine me with my hands on you, caressing your breasts. Can you do that?”

You squeeze your breast, mumbling out a weak, “Yes…” The memory of Donghyuck, embracing you from behind, his naked chest pressed against your spine, hot mouth lazily pressing wet kisses against your nape suddenly comes alive in your mind. You still remember how sexy he sounded moaning out your name as he rocked his hips forward, his fingers exploring around your chest, rubbing and pinching at a certain spot to make you press closer to him in desperation for more of his touch.

“Suck on your fingers, make them wet, then bring them back down.” Donghyuck’s hips are bucking against his hand, his fingers tugging his zipper down. “Imagine my mouth latching on your nipple, sucking it the way I always do. The way you like me to do.”

You bring your fingers to your mouth, coating two of them with saliva before you bring them back down to pinch your sensitive bud. With your eyes closed and his heavy breathing in your ear, the wet sensation of your fingers gives you a clear image of his tongue flicking against your nub.

“Tell me how you feel.”

“It’s not enough,” you croak out, “I want to feel you directly on my skin.”

Donghyuck takes a sharp breath. “You don’t even know how much I want to be there and touch you.” The way his voice suddenly becomes deep sends shivers down your spine. “I want to suck bruises on your skin. I want to mark you everywhere, again and again, so the bruises will last for days. I want you to remember me every time you see yourself in the mirror.”

You sheepishly smile, though your heart is still racing. “I always remember you even without that, Haechannie.”

The sudden change of his name warms his heart. “I wish you’re the only one who calls me that. You make my stage name sounds better, special. I could have thousands of people screaming my name but none of them makes me feel the way you do.” As he slides his hand under his boxer, finally making direct contact with his skin, Donghyuck becomes desperate once again. “Bring your other hand down. I want you to touch yourself, Noona, please.”

You slide your hand between your legs, tentatively rubbing yourself between your folds. “Hyuck…”

“Does it feel good?”

You nod, eyes shut, and your mind wanders. “Yes…”

“Rub your clit for me. And imagine I’m doing that with my tongue.”

You can picture him with his head between your legs so perfectly behind your closed eyelids. He has done it several times and you remember how he would always start slow, placing open-mouthed kisses on the inner part of your thigh before dipping his head down and swipe his tongue along your folds—all the while never breaking eye-contact. He would press a kiss against your clit, and lick you slowly because he’d want you to beg for it. He never directly told you but you could tell he liked being in control because the second you whispered “Please, Hyuck,” he would immediately indulge you with everything you wanted and more.

Donghyuck would suck hard on your clit, doing it so suddenly that you’d nearly crush him by wrapping your legs too tightly around his head. Amazed and delighted by your reaction, he would break into a smile with his tongue still darting out to taste you, mouth pressing harder against your skin until he plunged his tongue inside your heat.

You moan out his name at the memory, directly to the phone.

“Fuck, baby, you sound so perfect…” Donghyuck nearly whimpers and the word baby stirs something within you as he never called you that before.

“Call me like that again…” You rub yourself harder on the spot you like the most. “Please, Hyuck…”

“Baby…” Donghyuck’s fingers are curling harder around his length, pumping himself in accordance to every gasp and moan you’re emitting. “I wish I could see you—I wish I could lock my eyes with yours as I eat you up. I want to see your face, every single expression you make—I bet you look so cute, so goddamn... erotic.”

Your hold around your phone loosens but fortunately for you, the pillow pressing against it keeps it close to your ear. “Touch yourself,” you breathily murmurs, “I want you to touch yourself too.”

“I am, baby,” Donghyuck softly moans, his fingers tightening around his length. “What else do you want me to do?”

“I want you to stroke yourself harder and run your thumb over your slit.” Donghyuck zealously follows, cursing under his breath at the pleasure. “And I want you to keep doing it until my name escapes your lips.”

“God, I want you.” He repeats your name over and over again, as ordered, with him stroking himself faster each time. “Noona, I want your mouth on me. I want to see you hollow your cheeks around me—like how you did to me when we were backstage, that time after the concert. You looked so pretty that night, so eager—so desperate for me—”

“Me too. I want to make you feel good too. I—” You nip at your bottom lip, feeling goosebumps creeping up your skin when he moans out your name. You’ve always loved his voice, loved it more than anything else in the world, and the sounds he makes when he’s in bed with you is the sexiest thing that even your poor mind can’t even begin to imagine. And now, focusing solely on his voice, listening to his filthy, sinful words, he’s driving you to the edge of your sanity.

“I’ve touched myself before at the thought of you,” he confesses breathlessly, “Several times, even way before we started dating.”

You’re trembling at the thought. “Haechannie—”

“You don’t know just how much—” The sound of him trying to stifle down a moan only makes you crave for him more. “—how much I wanted you back then. How much I want you now. Even during high school, I just—I wanted you—wanted to touch you—wanted—ah fuck,” a whine slipped out his lips, “Wanted to hold you so bad, to make love to you until—”

At the rustling sounds, him whimpering at his touches, and you rubbing yourself on the perfect spot, you know you won’t last long. “H-Hyuck, are you close?”

“Just a little bit more, Noona, ah—” He thrashes his head against the pillow, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows hard. “Fuck, I need to be inside you. I need to feel you clenching your walls around me.” At the memory of you gazing at him with anticipation building inside your seductive, half-lidded eyes, as you parted your legs to give him permission to ravish you the way he wanted, Donghyuck quickens the pace, thrusting vigorously into his hand. “Fuck yourself with your fingers, baby, please.”

You’re more than keen to follow, inserting one digit inside your heat with another one following soon after. You can visualize him bringing your legs in the air until they dangle over his shoulders, his hips slamming hard against yours with each thrust. “Hyuck—”

“If you were here right now,” he nearly growls, “I would fuck you so hard until you’re mewling my name against the sheets. And I won’t stop, I won’t stop even if you beg me to. I won’t stop until I’m done with you.”

Donghyuck doesn’t sound like he’s trying to dirty talk which only makes it even more arousing to your ear. It’s as if he’s losing control of his mouth, just saying anything that comes to mind. The honesty, the urgency, his breathy, desperate calls of your name between lewd words—

You choke out a sob. “Hyuck—I’m close—”

“Me too—N-noona—Kiss me—”

It’s one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever felt and it’s funny because you never really enjoyed touching yourself before. Donghyuck follows a few seconds after, moaning your name so erotically that will probably give you a hard time falling asleep for days at the thought of it. You’re left dazed, staring at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes. Your phone lays forgotten on the pillow next to you. Mustering all the strength you have left, you reach out for it. “Hyuck…?”

You can hear him breathing heavily. “I’m here,” he says. “Are you okay? Did you get to come?”

“Y-yes.” Now that it’s over, you begin to feel self-conscious again and the heat that blooms on your cheeks nearly wash every bit of your orgasm away in an instant. “Did you?”

“I made a huge mess.” He chuckles, sounding just as embarrassed as you are. “Fuck, didn’t realize it was going to be this good when we started. What would’ve happened if we had Face-Timed each other instead?”

Your head nearly explodes at the thought. “One step at a time, Hyuck. I’m practically dying from shame right now.”

He laughs a little at that. “So, you don’t really oppose the idea? Man, I have something to look forward to then.”

“Shut up, you’re gross. Is this the reason you called me?”

“No,” he hastily says, “I swear, I called because I missed hearing your voice.” Then he thinks about it again. “Well, I mean, I have been thinking about doing, uhh, these kinds of things with you but trust me, it wasn’t the reason why I called.”

“Sure,” you flatly reply, teasing him.

“Yah, yah, yah, it’s your fault for saying that you were wearing nothing but my shirt!”

“It’s your fault for asking me what I was wearing!”

It’s always like this with him. You’re bickering at one point, having sex at another time, then goes back to bickering once again. But it’s endearing, you suppose, because after this, you’ll be murmuring loving words, and just when you begin to think about it, Donghyuck whispers into the phone.

“I love you, Noona. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

And you smile. “I love you too, Haechannie. You’re the second best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“What the hell is the first one?”

“Chicken nuggets.”

“You’re so dead.”

***

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 3 years

Text

Remember?

Summary- 1.9k Frank Adler x You. Frank wakes you up at the ungodly hour of 3:30 am and will not even tell you why. Written for @stargazingfangirl18 5k challenge

Warnings- like... barely there mention hint of smut? But just barely? I cant even count it as a warning to be honest.

A/N- so yes this is written for a soft!dark challenge, but dark writing just isn't happening. I went with just soft and with the prompt of lazy make out session.I really wanted to make sure I was giving something to Siri’s challenge because she works so hard on providing us wonderful fics to enjoy, is incredibly supportive and honestly she deserves it. Much love always babes and thank you for all you do.

A/N 2- Can be read as a one shot. It is in the same verse as Oppressive. Also trying out a new site to make moodboards. I kinda like it? what do you all think? And I know the Fort Myers pier is made from concrete, not wood, but I wanted wood. So I went with wood. I always appreciate your thoughts on a fic. Alright, Much Love, Happy Reading! 🌊

“Baby wake up.” You heard a husky whisper in your ear as well as a rough scrape against your shoulder from Franks cheek as he pressed in close to your back, the soft hairs of his chest pressed into your sleepy warm skin and you muttered a no into your pillow as you hid your face into the cotton covers.

He must be out of his ever loving mind to think you were going to wake up at… a quick peek at the old 80’s looking radio clock Frank loved sitting on his night stand. The red numbers were unfocused at first, but blurry sharpened to three thirty am. Yes, your man was crazy to think you were up for anything at all, and the way he was pressed into your ass cheeks, you suspected he woke up early for sex.

That was going to be a hell no. “Frank go back to sleep. I will fuck you later.” You promised as you shifted back into your warm safe hollow. He chuckled gruffly and his hands slid on your hips to twist you to fast him, causing you to sigh and blink up at him. In the dark of the room, his eyes were a dull blue shining down at you amused. You though were no in that same mood as you blinked up at him, pushing a hand against his chest. “Come on Frank, I'm not in the mood. I was sleeping so good.”

“You would think I would wake you up just for sex.” Frank scoffed.

“It wouldn't be the first time.”

“Probably won't be the last either, but that's not what this is about. Come on Sweetheart, get up. I have a surprise.” He tapped your ass and pulled away as you were groaning, knowing sleep simply wasn't going to happen.

“Adler, I swear to all that is holy, this better be good.” You grumbled as you sat up and tried to wake up. Frank came back out with some clothing for you, a pair of capris, tee shirt and undergarments. You looked at the casual clothing and arched your brows. “Where are you dragging me?”

“Its a surprise, trust me, those are appropriate.” He started as he dressed in some old faded blue jeans and grey tee. Wherever he was taking you wasn't going to require dressing up too much, so you just pulled your hair back into a tie, and didn't bother with makeup. He kept glancing at his watch, and by three fifty he had you out the door and to his pickup truck. He tossed a bag in the back and when you went to question it, he shook his head firmly in a no while ushering you into the passenger side. “Part of it, just trust me.”

“I trust you to have something up your sleeve Adler, considering you know I love my sleep in on Saturday Morning.” You grumbled under your breath. Typically you and Frank slept late Saturdays. Mary would go to Roberta’s Friday night for her weekly sleepover that both woman and child insisted on, you and Frank would go to the local bar for a night of cold drinks, games of pool and the occasional dancing when you could get Frank drunk enough to go on the small dance floor. Simple, but you always had a good time. Saturday was recovery day.

So why was he dragging you out of bed on recovery day?

“So a hint?” You decide to pester a bit, sliding closer on the bench seat till you were against his side, his arm circling around your shoulder to tuck you in closer and press a kiss to your temple. You could feel his lips upturned to a smirk against the side of your head.

“You want a hint… It has to be done early in the morning.”

You rolled your eyes at him with a huff, dropping your hand to dance your fingers against a jean clad thigh, making his eyes dart down to your hand. “I want better then that.”

“You are not gonna get it Baby, but you can try your best.”

He really was being serious this time, because he caught your hand from wandering up to far and brought it to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Alright Adler, keep your secrets then.” You let your head rest on his shoulder and eyes close. Frank was stubborn, always had been. You knew when you just had to let it go. You drifted in and out as he sped along the interstate. Soon he was turning off, but you weren't quick enough to catch what the exit was, so still had no idea.

“Are we there?”

“Close, you don't know where we are?” He asked with a slight laugh in his voice. You shrug a bit as you two are driving down the main drag of the area, passing all night gas stations, fast food chain restaurants, outlet stores and parking lots.

“No clue, every place in Florida has this Frank.”

He hummed a bit, slowing to an intersection and flicking on his blinker. “True, but you will soon see.” He winked as he made the turn, pulling away from the city-like area and moving towards the beach strip. Where million dollar homes, hotels, and beach side tourist traps laid quiet in the barely morning hours. It was starting to lighten though, you could see the black blue of the night sky make way for lighter purples and pinks.

So you remained patient, waiting for wherever Frank was taking you. The terrain started to get sandier, the crack of the window took on a breezy salty scent and you could taste the hint of surf and sand in the air. Your lips turned upwards, just that scent alone reminded you of a couple years ago, and it all clicked right where you were.

Your first overnight away from home with Frank was to Fort Myers, a small rundown motel on the beach. The room was iffy, the Ac barely worked, neither of you dared to use the pool. At the time it was all you two could afford. And it was all perfect.

Because that morning, before sunrise, you two escaped to the beach, arm in arm and sat in the dunes to watch the sunrise over the crashing ocean, and all was perfect in the world with each other.

Frank glanced over to see the knowing look on your face, and his own softened in a smile, his hand coming to grasp the inside of your thigh gently, squeezing. “Now you know?” He pulled into an almost deserted parking lot. At the other end were a group of people, unstrapping their boards to get ready to go into the surf.

“Of course Frankie.” You said with a touch of sentiment in your tone as you leaned over to peck his lips and nip at him playfully. “How can I forget?” You pull away suddenly and jump out of the car, yanking off your shoes to ditch in the truck. Frank followed, doing the same with his own boots.

You had already taken off into the sand, making your way towards the surf to dig your feet into the wet sand happily. Now it was getting lighter, those dark purples and pinks made way for the reds and oranges as the barest hint of the sun kissed the horizon.

Frank came up behind, having managed to yank his jeans up partially around his calves and pressed you two to walk out a bit further into the surf, the salt water spritzing you both in a fine cooling mist, clinging to your skin, in your hair, on your clothes. It all brought back the sensations of that first trip together. You fall back into his chest while he dips his head to mouth kisses into your neck, enjoying the quiet of the moment with you in a more physical way for a moment. Making you tilt your head to the side while the sun finally broke.

From the nearby pier, heavy pelicans lined the side to swoop down, skimming over the water in lines, giving the two of you a show all for yourselves, among the surf the small sandpipers chased after the tiny ghost crabs trying to escape back into the surf, all of it made you smile. This felt like home to you, right here with Frank.

“It feels like forever since we have visited.” You finally say as you turn to face Frank, the two of you stepping out of the surf, and hand in hand making your way along the beach's edge towards the pier, the sandpipers running away as fast as they could, a few taking to wing to fly several yards ahead of you to start there search in the surf retreating back from the edge once more.

“Been a couple years at least. I was looking at the calendar and realized an anniversary of ours was coming up.” He mentioned while you two stepped under the pier. A small private world for you two at the moment as far above you people made their way towards the end stretching out over the water, ready to drip lines for fishing in the surf. Here though, underneath it all, was just for you and Frank.

Nothing but water crashing to the shore, wood above your heads and the morning bringing back fond memories. Memories of shared kisses against one of the ageless logs helping to hold the deck yards above them steady, the way your legs wrapped around his hips as he pinned you in place and loved you so freely out in the open where they could be caught. How afterwards Frank said those words that he never uttered to anyone else in the way he said it to you.

Fuck I think I love you.

You thought then you loved him to. Now you knew you did. Your fingers looped in his belt loops and you walked backwards, till your back pressed once more against that sand and salt aged wood, looking up at him in the now very present dawn.

“You know Frank, I think I love you.”

“You know what Y/N, I think I love you too.” He winked, sliding in closer till he was pressed against you, his hands cupping the side of your face and tilting up to meet him, his tongue sliding past soft lips to the sweet heat of your mouth and tangling his tongue with yours. It elicited a soft moan from the back of your throat.

Warming salty air really agreed with Frank, mixing the tastes on your tongue, you curled your arms around his body, clutching at his back as you now clung to him, thoroughly enjoying the way this kiss made you feel.

The sensations of love and passion curling in your belly and your heart thud against your breast bone, absorbing into Frank as he pressed into your body, trying to daze you from rational thoughts, away from the everyday thoughts.

Frank had a talent at making you appreciate the here and now.

And right here, with sand covering your feet, your shirt and pants clinging to you from the ocean spray and your man completely pressing every ounce of his affection into you, you could do nothing but appreciate being in the moment.

“Scratch that, I don't think, I know I love you Frank Adler.” You managed to break out of his kiss for half a second.

“I know you do.” He assured you as he grasped the back of your thighs and lifted you enough to fold your legs around his waist. “I plan on showing you just how I feel.” He promised, the glint in his ocean blue eyes turning mischievously playful under that pier.

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #amber writes #sweater writes #frank adler x reader #frank adler x you #gifted au #frank adler fan fic #chris evans characters #remember?#i have a soft spot for this man #cant change wont change #i love just soft sweet moments for him #and making out under a pier is one of those moments #so lets all just give him love #shall we?#thanks for coming to my soft moment

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