#she also used to bartend at a gentlemans club

[astoldbychae]

Pinterest Inspired Moodboard: Norvina Hernandez 🍸

[spdrvyn]

Hello, dear. I hope you are doing well. Might I make a Miguel x fem!reader request?

So, for context.

I had this idea today when I was sketching out someone's spidersona to practice anatomy and I couldn't find any good references for the poses I wanted to do. I just so happen to also be an aerialist so I immediately changed into some work out clothes and hung up my aerial silks onto my rig.

I was able to film myself doing the exact poses I wanted to draw on the silks to use as a reference.

This all kinda made me realize how similar aerial silks is to web swinging. And it gave me this juicy idea.

Scenario where the reader is the charismatic, flirtatious, and quippy owner of a popular, high-class nightclub in universe 2099. She is a bit more hands on than normal owners because she actually performs at her own club. The theme for the night is "superhero nite". She is the final performer of the night and is in a skin tight feminized outfit of Miguel's spiderman costume. She gives a sultry aerial silks performance on stage that includes both aerial silks and interacting with the audience (think Jessica Rabbit). Taking photos, walking across tables, giving men a run for their money. Paired with displays of extreme strength and flexibility as she weaves between the fabric silks effortlessly and gracefully.

It also just so happens that Miguel himself is there for that performance either scouting out the location or tracing a lead on a series of crimes that seem to center around this night club. So he gets to personally witness this hedonistic performance in his image. Idk I just think his reaction to it all would be juicy 🤣. Especially if the reader spots him in the crowd mid performance or after the fact and decides to approach and make a spectacle out of it.

Thank you for your time! You're really good at keeping Miguel in character and I really appreciate it.

sacred silk — MIGUEL O'HARA

☆ you're a quaint little owner on your own little stage, unfortunately your club has drawn some attention from nueva york's #1 vigilante.

tension packed. romantic. miguel is miguel. i loved this request sm! i added my own little spin to it so i hope that's okay ^_^ dividers by @/cafekitsune

Kingpin's lackeys have been scattered all around the city, not much of a problem for Miguel. The only issue being that they're planted in the most densely packed areas, markets, malls, sometimes churches when you thought he couldn't get any worse. It caused Miguel's frustrations to deepen with every single case.

At least, there was some sort of pattern in the locations of these agents. All up until this very night where Miguel found himself crouching over the glass roof of a tranquil night club.

His sharp eyes wandered over what he could find. The crowd looked young, nobody over the age of 27 in sight, there was a bartender hastily serving drinks, but the most eyecatching of them all was a rather suspicious looking old man enjoying himself a martini.

It looked... almost pathetic at this rate, however his suspicioums grew higher. This was too easy for a catch, there had to be something that he was missing in this.

"Lyla," Miguel muttered, holding his watch up close to his mouth. "What is this place exactly?"

"Can't find any records on it, I don't think that it's a registered establishment. How fun!"

Not fun. Not fun at all! The small crowd, the shady guy sitting alone at that table, the fact that this building wasn't even registered in the first place?! Crime bells were ringing in Miguel's ears.

He skittered along the edges of the roof, making sure that he isn't noticeable despite the dim lights. Soon enough, he's able to find an open panel to slip into. He digs his talons into one of the ceiling beams, which what even is the point of having a glass roof if the view is going to be obscured by these things anyway.

Miguel keeps his weight steady atop the structure, his gaze locks onto the creepy gentleman before he's blinded by the sudden flicker of the stage lights. What in the world?

When he thought that events couldn't get any weirder, you come flying down from a secret compartment in the ceiling, silk stringing your body up as you manuever and fly across the stage and club. The crowd cheers and livens up, raising their hands to which you respond by high fiving as many people as you can.

That's when he noticed something familiar about what you were wearing. The sharp geometric shapes carefully stitched into your suit, that recognizable navy blue, that straining bright red. You were wearing his colors, designed in his suit.

It's only when your feet hit the floor of stage with a resounding thud does Miguel remember why he's here in the first place, he's gotten used to seeing his face (well, his masked one) on all different kinds of merchandise. From regular to disgusting, but he's never seen something of this caliber before. He couldn't deny that he wasn't at all intrigued by your display of talent and costume.

"Thank you all for coming tonight," the breathlessness in your voice is prominent, a sign of your draining yet enamoring performance. "Do any of you want to guess who I'm dressed as?"

The crowd rallies and cheers.

"Spider-Man! Obviously!"

"Is there anyone stupid enough to not get it?"

"It's Spider-Man!"

Miguel rolls his eyes, don't get him wrong, he does want to appreciate the praise but everyone sounds like an overenthusiatic toddler. Depsite that, you feed into their firey spirits. Not before shushing them with a slight raise of your hand.

"I know you're all thinking why I decided to dress up as our beloved spider tonight," you reach for one of the silks hanging from the ceiling, resting your body atop it as you're slowly lifted from the stage again.

"Well, it's simple really. He's the hero of our city, the face of crime fighting, the face of justice." the crowd's heads follow your hanging body, your arm droops down to brush against the many hands that wish to touch yours. "He's made so many sacrifices for us, the least we could do is put on a show. All for him."

Miguel freezes for the nearly the entire duration of your heartfelt speech, he's overheard a lot of those whether it's a drunkard's rambling as he's swinging back home or on a podium and recited by a government official.

From the corner of his eye, the man that he was slowly inching towards rises from his seat and begins to slyly move through the crowd, bumping and slipping past people. When he enters through the backstage doors, all kinds of red flags are waving through the air.

The sudden blast of music nearly deafens him, but gives him a good distraction as he crawls with more fervor across the ceiling beam. He notices the small crevice to an entrance in the ceiling, presumably the one that you entered through.

It's dark and a little dusty, Miguel has to fight back a sneeze before finding yet another latch to enter through and behold, he's successfully infiltrated the backstage area!

"Lyla," he huffs. "Scan."

Bright yellow lights emerge in his vision, behind each room there's a bountiful amount of props and some people chatting with a drink in hand, it seemed like you weren't the only performer in this establishment. The thermal energy spikes when he catches sight of a man hunched behind one of the doors, supposedly with a crowbar in hand. Miguel rolls his eyes, "How dumb does he think I am?"

"Want me to run an IQ test?"

"I was being— ugh, nevermind."

Miguel shies over right next to the door, the blades hidden in his suit release with an audible shing. It cuts into the drywall without a struggle, Miguel can hear the man fall back onto the floor with a thud and a scream. He kicks his way into the room, before pouncing onto him and knocking him out cold.

"That was fast," Lyla chimes, illuminating the darkness. Miguel digs through the pockets of his coat, there's no sign of an ID, but he was carrying a shiv and a small revolver. How was this guy let in?

Miguel ties him up and makes a swift exit, before anyone could notice. This mission felt a little too easy for his liking, like a twist was going to sneak up on him at any minute now, but he wasn't going to complain about having an easy target this time.

His never ending train of thought brings him towards a building's edge later on, even deeper into the night. Waiting, thinking, contemplating. Miguel had no such thing as a spider sense, but he did have a gut and it was practically screaming at him that something was wrong.

He doesn't get any more time to let that thought marinate any further when his ears pick up on the latch of the door to the roof clicking, his head turns immediately he thinks he might strain it until he sees—

You.

Just you.

Though, you weren't wearing the same get-up when you had your show. No, you were in simply nightwear along with a flimsy pair of slippers and fuzzy socks to complete the look. That nonchalant attitude that you held during the show faded for a split second, before a small smile creeps onto your features as you raise a brow.

"Spider-Man? On my roofdeck?"

"I'll leave–"

"No!" you say it a little too loudly, reaching a hand out to him but never actually touching. You scold yourself internally for being too abrupt, before clearing your throat. "No, it's okay. Please stay."

Miguel sighs, as usual, he's going to make a decision that's going to kick him in the ass later. He gives in and decides to indulge your need for company, but the look on his face tells you to keep a distance.

You slowly walk over to the ledge that he's sitting on, leaning your body on the railing but still far enough to be comfortable.

Silence stretches out the distance between the two of you, that for once Miguel feels compelled to say something.

"There was someone suspicious at your club," he explains bluntly. "I took them out. You're welcome."

"Ah, yeah, I could tell from the webs and you know..."

"Oh."

Now, it's back to silence.

Miguel normally isn't disturbed by it, but this just made him uncomfortable. He thought that maybe you'd carry some bravado even outside your profession as a stage performer, he couldn't imagine that he'd end up talking that was so timid.

"I liked your performance," it's soft-spoken, his words fast and deliberate. "Your costume, too. It was... nice."

Even if the praise sounds like a 5th grader complimenting a painting, you found your face red and heart beating fast. Your grin returned with a "thank you". It's hard to tell exactly what Miguel's thinking under that mask, you can't even read his facial expression, but you hope that now it's less awkward.

It falls to silence again, the only difference being that there's no obligation for conversation. You and Miguel stare at the overhead view of the city from your penthouse, it gets so quiet that you swear you can hear him breathing.

He has to leave soon enough, he wished he could've stayed with you for longer because believe it or not, that's the only taste of peace he's had in a while. Your goodbyes are bittersweet, you don't know if you'll ever see him again.

When you're back on the stage again a few days later, hopping off of the platform and holding onto your silks, you're more than happy to that faint red glow coming from the glass panes on your roof.

[dadonbabysworld]

His Pup (starring Jeongin)

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at smut and making a header picture for my writing. I was suddenly inspired. This was the hardest thing I’ve wrote yet. I probably won’t become a mainly smut page but please tell me if you like it ✨🤗 this is unedited so possible mistakes

Warnings: cheating {sort of}, drinking/ alcohol consumption, jealous ex bf, explicit language including cursing, intercourse, afab! reader, pet play, breeding, dacryphilia, desperation, creampie, cum eating, and thongs.

Word Count: 3,313

Genre: Smut ‼️

It hadn't been long since you met Jeongin. You were a regular person in his eyes, and vice versa. That was his favorite thing about you. Also, that you didn't know Jeongin was an idol by the way he approached you in the club the night you met.

"Another round for us please" He asked the bartender. He was out with three other men you later found out are Jisung, Hyunjin, and Minho. They all were attractive, but Jeongin just seemed to stand out to you.

The bartender came and bought them the fifth round of shots. They counted down before taking the shots together; you were staring a little when he saw you for the first time out his peripheral.

You sipped your cocktail as you watched them: intrigued. You didn't have many male friends, so you didn't know how their interactions went. It also just happened to be a table of handsome men sitting right next to you.

As his eyes met yours, you looked away at the bartender who smiles softly at you. Apparently, she understood you had gotten caught. She seemed amused by the thought. You didn't understand at the time, but he was still watching you making it even more hilarious you had gotten caught. It only took a few minutes before the first drink came your way.

"From the gentleman you got caught staring at" She mumbled softly, trying not to laugh before walking away. You smelled the drink before taking a sip, and it was a good tasting one. He chose a good one. You drunk half of it before he approached.

"Hi I'm Jeongin. And you are? You know besides beautiful." You chuckled and smiled at him. His dimples as he smiled back almost had you melting. This man was gorgeous.

"I'm Y/N. I appreciate the compliment and the drink, but I have a boyfriend."

"Oh well we can be friends, no?" His smirk gave away he had alternative motives, but you entertained the idea, nonetheless.

"Yeah, why not?"

After that night, you ended up being Jeongin's closest friend. He didn't have many non-idol friends considering the age he became a trainee. Unlike them who were on a tight time schedule, you never minded when Jeongin was busy or anything. That just made it easier for him to feel comfortable talking to you.

"So, where's your mans?" Jeongin asked as he sits on your couch. He sat down and got comfortable like he lived here. As if this isn't his second time here, he patted the seat next to him for you to sit as well. You sit next to him before replying.

"He went to his house. We don't stay together."

"So, is that why you invited me over? It's always 'my man is here' when I ask to come over normally." Was that a hint of jealousy?

You nod knowing that if your boyfriend was here, he wouldn't understand why a kpop idol stood in your living room. He is the jealous type and considering he doesn't make much money he would have been livid.

"What did you wanna watch again?" You ask him, laying your head on his shoulder. You and Jeongin were no strangers to physical touch often sharing hugs, holding hands, or just touching in small ways. Nothing considered to be scandalous or cheating.

"I wanna watch the new Halloween movie. I'll put it on." He grabs the remote and cuts the movie on. You watch the screen briefly before getting up to cut the lights off. Falling back into the same place next to him, Jeongin places an arm around you. You grab the blanket off the back of the couch and cover yourself in it. Leading to Jeongin getting under the cover as well, he felt a little chilly.

Everything is going well as you both share popcorn and watch the movie. Until Jeongin catches you staring at him. It isn't a secret that you thought Jeongin is attractive. Sometimes you wonder if your man is even worth it when Jeongin exists, and that worries you because you never considered cheating before.

Yet here you are eye fucking Jeongin, for the twenty time since you've met, as he ate some popcorn. His big hands grabbed a mouthful of popcorn easily. His fingers always interested you because they're so long and pretty. He cares for them well, and the rings that adorn them look new. You always fantasized about what he could do with his hands given the chance.

Jeongin catches you not paying attention to the movie. He follows your eyes slowly as he grabs popcorn every now and then. You begin to glance at him. His perfectly outlined jawline and how the muscles in his neck flexed when he ate something. Oh, how those same muscles would look if he was pleasing you, eating you as if it was nothing else in the world he wanted to do. You try to stop staring, but just as you were about to Jeongin pauses the movie. "Can I ask you something?" He questions sitting back to look in your eyes. You look up at him from where your head rests: his stomach.

"Sure, anything Jeongin."

"Are you happy? You know with your man? Like truly happy."

Was it that obvious? Your man had gotten on his high horse lately. His jealous had been driving you crazy. It's not just about Jeongin. It's his career as well considering you have a successful career as a store owner. He felt like he was in competition with you to be the man of the relationship considering you cared for him most the time and often times paid when you went out.

"Ummm..." Before you can answer, Jeongin interjects, "I just wanted to know because you're giving me the lust-filled eyes. I could just slut you out if that is what you want." His bluntness caught you off guard, but should it really catch you off guard considering part of you wanted it?

"I have a boyfriend Jeongin. You can't mention those types of things."

"He doesn't even have a damn car Y/N. Let's be real. You think of me fucking you right? The way I'd do it? How good it would feel to fuck with someone who could afford to support you if you got pregnant?" You can't bear to look at him anymore as your face blushes red. He had you pegged from the start. You had imagined being taken by Jeongin so many times. Especially being breeded by Jeongin.

Given that you were shy and looking away, he grabbed your chin. "You don't have to answer that. I'll get the answer later. I just need one thing from you if it is indeed true that is what you desire from me."

You found his gaze again as you watched in anticipation. What would it take for you to finally have him fuck you? You fell into his temptation.

"Call your man and tell him it's over. You deserve better." His words laced with venom. He really despised him that much?

You debate the options for a moment. Is Jeongin willing to have a relationship with you? Do you really want a relationship with Jeongin? Is this worth your relationship? Was he even good in bed?

It has been twenty minutes since you decided to end things with your now ex-boyfriend over the phone. He didn't take it well, but Jeongin handled that by hanging up in his face. His boldness shocked you because Jeongin was normally a sweetheart. Right now, he couldn't be further from it.

His kisses on your neck have you itching with anticipation. So many kisses and licks met your skin. Soft moans left your mouth as he finds himself kissing that one spot on your neck. Determined to brand you, he leaves multiple hickies on your neck and chest.

"Jeongin..." You whisper barely audible. It was pitiful how you felt so helpless to his kisses. You wanted this and him forever.

He doesn't pay much attention pulling you in for a kiss. Having made out on and off for twenty minutes, you are soaking. He hadn't even laid a hand on you just his lips, and you were already feening for him.

As tongues and teeth clash together, the heat around your bodies makes it harder for you to remain patient. You try pull back only to be engulfed into his mouth's command again. Damn near sucking your tongue out your mouth, Jeongin is trying his hardest to remain patient himself. He wanted you ever since that night in the club.

You whine into his mouth causing him to finally let up. As he rubs your breasts through your shirt, you gasp at the sudden contact. He lifts your shirt and smiles evilly. Your nipples harden at the cold air filling the room from your air conditioner.

"Who do you want to touch you?"

"You, Jeongin. Only you." Him. He chuckles just thinking about it.

He smirks at your words as he takes your right nipple into his mouth massaging the left breast under his giant hand. The motions sending you into a moaning and whimpering state. Desperate. His mouth is sucking as if he needed to be fed from your breast, and it is turning you into an oasis down below.

"Jeongin please... it feels so good. I want more."

With no acknowledgement to your plea, he switches from the right to the left taking his time, a trait you wish he didn't expose in bed. Jeongin never truly rushes in anything, but right now you wanted him inside you. You need the sensations of his pelvis crashing into yours.

As he pulls away, he begins to rub both nipples between pinches and squeezes to your breasts as a whole. He is glad you didn't wear bras now, having found it distracting before. All the waiting and teasing you've done has led you both here.

"What do you want, Jagiya? Tell Innie."

You cry out, "I want you, Innie. I want anything you're willing to give me. Any position, anything just for you to touch me."

He chuckles and rubs your hips as he pulls on your pants taking them off. "A thong? You expected to get some huh?" You shake your head. He tugs off your thong next. You never expected to be fucking Jeongin in your living room on the couch, but here you are fully naked and waiting. Your wetness was leaving a mark under where you sat.

Jeongin slides off his shirt and pants as well. His build was perfect: athletic and slim. His cock shows through his boxers as he has a boner. He was so big your mouth watered; you reached a hand out to touch it.

"Are you sure you'd like to do this?" He questions for the last time grabbing your hand before it can touch anything and looking seriously into your eyes. Lust glossed over eyes, but the tone of his voice read he was not playing.

"Yes Jeongin. I am sure. I wanted this since the first night in the club."

He raises and eyebrow. "So you have been just tantalizing me this whole time? All these shorts and skimpy dresses. Just for me?" You nod quickly as you hold his hand tightly. "Just for you Innie. I didn't know how to tell you what I wanted."

He nodded and asked you to turn around. You obliged now laying over the back of the couch with your butt lifted. You wiggled your butt, anticipation creeping up on you again. What is taking so long? Is he putting on a condom? You go to look back but a smack to your ass causes you to yelp.

"Calm down pup. I'm just admiring the vagina I'm going to own for the next few hours. Let me just look for a little longer considering this is what you wanted by wearing those outfits."

You squeezed your legs closer instinctively. You were trying to stop the wetness from going down your legs as your walls clenched around nothing. This kind of dirty talk is something your ex didn't do, and you certainly enjoyed it. Suddenly another smack sends lightening through your body as you whimper.

"I said I'm looking at it. Don't close your legs. Open them nice and wide for me." His demands echoed through your brain as you spread your legs wider. You gasped as he placed a finger on your clit.

He rubs circles over and around it. As you tried to stop yourself from grinding back onto his hands, you look down at the ground gripping the couch. He easily slides two fingers inside you. You moan at the sudden penetration before his fingers went to work exploring the inside of your vagina.

Pleasure and elation consumed you as Jeongin fingered you with one hand and rubbed your clit with the other. He was soothing your anticipation until his hand left your clit. A whine left your lips, but a third smack to your ass made it turn into a yelp. "Jeongin, please!"

"Please what? Spare you? After all the teasing you've done to me." Another hard lashing makes you jolt forward pulling away from his fingers. He rubs your cheeks as he continues his vehement assault on your insides. His hand going back to rubbing your clit as your walls clench around his fingers.

"Innie, I can... I can take it go faster please." You were quivering to begin with, but he wasn't going to deny your request. He quickens the pace of his fingers sliding in and out as well as adding another finger. You throw your head back as you moan louder.

"What a good pup you are? Moaning for me just how I like it." Your body is on fire; Jeongin was the only thing on your mind. Every part of your body felt tense. Your orgasm was coming quick. Your walls tighten with no sense of untightening in sight. He rubs your clit slowly in a great contrast to the pace his fingers were going. The nerves on your clit could only take so much stimulation and the peak was nearing.

"I'm- I- Cum Innie. Can I?" A broken sentence is the best you can manage. He chuckles at you; he knew you were close by your body language. The shaking, broken words, moans damn near sobs, clenched walls, and thrown back head said it all. "Go ahead pup. Show Innie what you can do."

No sobs or moans came out of your mouth as silence fell over the room outside of the gushing noises from the constant finger fucking. You orgasmed, hard. Toes curling as your grip on the couch burned your fingers.

Looking at you with much mirth of his work, he pulls out his fingers after a moment has passed and you collapse onto the couch. You felt weak for a moment. Orgasming with your whole body left you exasperated almost feverish. He sucks on his fingers to taste you to which he hums. "You don't taste bad. Good to know."

You try to gather your breath as he pats your butt. "To your room?" A simple question, but one that bought you back to this world. "Yes please" You raised your arms to him. He picks you up and carries you bridal style into your room.

"My sweet lil pup is so worn out from orgasming once... What am I gonna do with you?" He asks sitting you on your plush, teal comforter.

"I want you, Innie."

"What do you want me to do for you?"

"It's what I want you to do TO me." You explain, "I want you to breed me like the lil pup I am. Please make me sore and full of your cum. I want to be your special cum dump."

A fire was seen in Jeongin's eyes in response to that. It was as if a switch flipped inside of him. He spread your legs as he looks at your body admiring it one last time before looking into your eyes. "Condoms?"

You nod and grab him one before laying back in the position he put you in. He wasted no time opening and rolling the condom down his length. Grabbing your foot, he pulled you towards the edge of the bed. You yelp not expecting him to manhandle you so easily. "Jeongin wha- fuck" you gasp as he enters you slowly. He's not super thick, but he was long leaving you full once he bottoms out.

"You're so big Innie" you moan as he slowly strokes into you. The hips of a dancer. He leans forward and grabs your torso bringing it closer to him. You sat chest to chest as he grinds his hips into you stopping every few seconds because you were gripping him.

Your vagina was still recovering from the first orgasm and clenching around Jeongin as if to milk him. "God pup... you're gonna get your wish if you keep clenching so tight." His voice so soothing and calming in your ear almost a whisper. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you hid your face in his neck.

Closeness, warmth, and pleasure ate at your insides. Passionate strokes as if you were in love all these months. He took his time. One hand on your back to steady you; the other on your clit rubbing ever so slightly. The sound of gushing and your moans were music to Jeongin's ears.

"Tell me pup something. Tell me you love me." He places kisses on your neck gently as he rubs your back. He was reaching the sweet spot of your insides because of your positioning.

"I love you Innie. Love you so much... I can't take it." Your whimpers and cries into his neck make him so much more attracted to you. You were so fragile and cute. So willing to be a dumb, fuck toy. Tears rolled down your face as he rocks his hips harder.

"Jeongin please cum inside me!" you dig your nails into his back feeling as if you could burst at any moment. The kissing and slow, sensual fucking were all you could think about. Not about being pregnant or anything else.

"I cant... the condom." He barely manages to get out. Your clenching had him close to his orgasm as well. The longing for breeding and passion had you completely brainless. "Take it off. Jeongin please do this for me. Breed your pup full."

He stops abruptly and pulls out sliding off the condom before sliding back in. He begins pounding into you as he holds your body completely in his arms. Bouncing you on his cock midair, you were a moaning and teary faced mess. "Innie! Innie!" Constantly his name fell from your mouth as if he could save you from himself.

Your stomach tightened as much as it could earlier but slowly you feel yourself reaching your orgasm again. "Innie I'm gonna cum." You were so embarrassed and red by how quickly this was happening. It was as if he had a spell of your body.

He continued even as you came around him body spasming and toes curling. A scream left your body as if it was your body's last moments. His cum began to fill you shortly afterwards. He stayed still afterwards not wanting any to spill down onto your floor. He slowly lays you back onto the bed as he tilts your lower body up and pulls out.

"My beautiful pup. I'm gonna clean you up and then we can take a nap." He kisses your head and cheek gently before his figure leaves the room. You were sleeping before he even came back with a towel to help clean you up.

Taglist: @kflixnet @lino-jagiyaa @kpflyn

If you like this post, consider reading my other works listed here. I, also, accept requests here. Thank you!

[thetinylittlespider]

The New Doll

Poll Story Everyone!!! The horror one!!!

Special thanks to @clumsiestgiantess to help me correct some writing mistakes!

Word count: 3069 words!

CW: Blood, slight gore and surgical procedures. Mature language, and substances.

THIS IS +18 EVERYBODY!!!

"C'mon, one more drink! You barely had a glass today! I never thought you'd become such a softy in university!"

ーF-Fine! Fine!ー I tried to brush off those comments with a laugh, it was a boy's night out, in the wonderful corners of a nightclub far from home, midnight was setting in, and I only wanted to go back home already. It was clear I was not a fan of crowded places.

ーOne shot of Tequila! The cheap one, please!ー

All my friends laughed as I asked the bartender for the drink, it was not usual of me to ask for strong liquor, they were used to having me drink beer or some soft mix...But this time I wanted to get them off my back as soon as possible, call for a cab and get done for the night.

"Now that's the spirit! Keep that going and you might as well find someone to have fun tonight!"

ーPffft...Yeah, sure buddy, I'm a fucking player...ー I replied as dead and sarcastically as humanly possible. Waiting for my drink as they just kept dancing in the background trying to flirt with the closest gals they could find.

And as the bartender finally left the glass of tequila right in front of me, 2 women...probably around my age, sat right beside me. I tried to ignore them, as I've been doing with everyone in that place, and just tried to mind my business.

Until I heard, in the middle of the laughter, music, and steps. Something fell close...

As I looked down to my right, the phone of one of the girls had fallen from her purse, she didn't notice, and nobody else seemed to notice that. I rolled my eyes for a bit before releasing a sigh. I hated how nice I could be even in a bad mood.

I leaned down to reach for the phone, trying my best to not look awkward in the process, considering how crowded the place was, and how little space for movement was there. Once obtained, I came back to a descent posture and gave a little pat to the girl's shoulder in an attempt to get her attention.

ーExcuse me...Miss, ehm...your phone fell off...ー

"Oh~ thank you! I forget to close this damn thing sometimes hahaha!" She replied taking her phone as delicate as possible. And seemed to lock her eyes with mine for a brief second, and the emerald tone of them shocked me for a second. But it didn't matter...

Yeah, I wasn't about to start a conversation. I wanted to leave, and soon. I'll just finish my drink and get awa-

Did my glass move? I could've sworn it was close to my left hand before I reached for the phone, and now it was close to the right. Maybe I was just standing in a bad position to begin with.

I looked to my left, the other girl was just ordering something, playing with her hair. And the one on my right was texting someone. Maybe I was just being paranoid.

One glass...it's all it took.

Vision got blurry.

Nausea was kicking in.

Everything felt so claustrophobic.

And it was hard to breathe.

I couldn't feel my tongue, and my friends were nowhere to be found.

I made my way out of the club with shaky legs, the streets were cold and empty, but I just needed a place to sit down, call a taxi, and rest this feeling away.

I wasn't that weak to alcohol. I knew my limits.

Then that means, someone messed with my drink, but when?

Everything seems distant, clothes start feeling heavy. What was happening to me?

"Here he is! The cutie who's also a gentleman! I want him already." A voice reverberated in my ears like an echo, and it wasn't alone.

"Now now, he is almost done, get the box ready. I'll be finished with him by the sunrise." Both female voices, both great shadows casting over me by the weak moonlight. And before one massive hand could cover my entire field of view...I blacked out.

I woke up on a cold surface, and the smell of steel and metal was the only thing I could perceive. My vision was almost blinded by a bright white light above me, like a fake sun in eternal darkness, my arms and legs tied up to the metal soil, making my efforts to move useless. What was this?

"Subject 42, 22 years old, healthy body, male, university student...Compatible with the procedure and request." Said a familiar voice.

The reflection of light caused that voice to take form. It was a woman covered with a doctor's attire, a white face mask, and on top of it all. A hand as big as my body fell on my side...she was massive.

ーW-What is this place? Hey...Who are you? W-what's happening to me!?ー My words came louder than I intended them to be...But my panic was met with deaf ears...

"We need to replace the insides first, take out the eyes, and end with the skin replacements...to not damage or stain the new tissue."

ーThe fuck...are you talking about!? Let me go! What's wrong with you!?ー I groaned as I did all my best efforts to use my arms, maybe kick my legs...but nothing, I was well secured like a wild animal.

She started tapping her fingers on the metal surface, which by now was a table to her. Each finger was repeating the same rhythm and the same sound.

Clank, clank, clank, clank, clank.

Each time, her nails impacted the metal plate, gave me chills for how big they looked now, as if I were watching a display of guillotines, she just needed her index to get rid of my head, and by the words she released before, it was a possibility I couldn't ignore.

ーHey! Lady! I don't know what kind of shit you are doing here...I don't care! Please let me go and I won't tell a soul...I-I have some money! You can have it...j-just please I want to go hom-...ー

"URGH, SHUT UP! JESUS!"

Her yell was deafening, my ears were not ready for that type of volume coming from her, and in turn, I released a yelp while my head started to hurt. She then placed another object beside me, this time it was a tray, with lots of knives, cutters, and elements that almost made me faint again by their nature, and what she was going to do.

ーP-Please don't hurt me...I don't want to die...I can pay you j-just let me go, please...I'll do anything you want...Please let me go...ーTears started falling down my face, as I tried to beg for my freedom, to be back home where I wanted to be ever since the start.

But she wasn't listening to me. She was only hearing a desperate creature's noise, and she wanted that to stop.

"I knew we ran out of sedatives but if you are going to keep losing your mind and make noise, well, the client never mentioned anything about your mouth, so if I want to, I'll make sure you don't even let a gasp coming out of your mouth again, are we clear?"

With just 2 fingers she kept my head in place, forcing me to look her in the eyes, my heart rate was starting to increase, and so was my breathing. I could feel her cold gaze, uncaring, and cruel. I could even her desire to crush my head like a grape in between her fingers. But she needed me alive, for now. And I feared that.

"You look like a smart little guy, so I trust you won't struggle. Be a good boy, and I promise this won't hurt as much. Let's take advantage of that little sedative you got left before it vanishes out of your bloodstream."

I couldn't do anything, I tried to keep my mouth shut while I tried to imagine some way I could escape. Meanwhile, she moved her free hand towards the tray, the sound of crashing metals making me tremble, and my entire skin going pale as a giant scalpel, blade as big as my head, probably a bit more, moved above me, and then with a steady grip, the giant doctor rested the pointy item at the center of my chest, piercing, blood emerging from my flesh and unfortunately, I let go a scream of pain.

But the surgeon didn't stop and moved the blade down my abdomen, my screams lacking air to keep going as the crimson fluid slowly escaped my body. I could not focus at all on what was going on, but the few glimpses of my body were enough to tell she cut more than the skin, she destroyed my stomach, and my intestines. I could see the fleshy tubes being entangled on the tip of the cold blade, she kept rotating around as if it was some sort of pasta; dripping blood while moving them above me, extracting them slowly, my screams became sobs of agony and pain as my skin was decorated by my blood, doing my best to move out of the way, to somehow break my chains and run free, but it was useless.

She moved her other arm to pick another item, a small scissor that was half the size of her hand and a few bits smaller than my entire body.

ーP-PLEASE! STOP! IT HURTS! IT FUCKING HURTS! PLEASE!ー I kept screaming until the sound turned into another whimper, she held the slimy bloody organ still creating tension with it before cutting it clean off from the end of the stomach, and throwing it away like some type of trash. I could sense the blood reaching the inside of the new hole created inside of me, how all the other organs were falling into the cavity. She gave me a look of disgust, she was annoyed.

"I told you what would happen if you opened that little mouth of yours, didn't I?"

Her words fell on deaf ears this time, as I was just focused on the pain I was experiencing, she was slicing me open with no effort at all, and the only reason I caused her problems was due to her little patience to an obvious human response to this kind of pain. Now the only things escaping my mouth were agonizing, weak, and almost drowned gasps for air, small attempts to communicate and ask for mercy.

"I need little of you for this work, the client was not very picky on what about you should be kept, so I think we can keep your vocal cords; cut your tongue, stuff and seal your mouth. At least that way she can get some noise out of you. But not enough for you to become an annoyance"

Wait, the client was a "she", who could ask for this? for me? why me? why doing this at all? Did she know the type of shit that happened here? Who in their right mind could ever ask for this to happen to someone else?

My mind was overloaded with pain, with fear, and with neverending doubts. The procedure followed, piece by piece, each one of my organs were removed from my body, then I could feel my mouth getting watery, the smell of iron invaded me, my eyes were ready to close, and before they did the last thing I captured with them was a small drill perforating, crushing and penetrating my eye sockets. They were eviscerated as the rest of my insides.

I passed out

I was unsure how much time I remained like that.

But when I woke up I felt little to nothing.

I could see again, but everything felt so colorless.

My arms...I can't move them, neither my legs nor my head. I'm panicking, yet the air is not going to my nose. What was happening now? How was I alive?

I tried to ask for help again, but this time I could just barely hear a "Mmmph" trapped inside my throat.

"Hey! You are finally awake! good! great! Now let me make a quick introduction to you, just for you to take care of yourself with the new body replacements, what not to do, and what rules your owner must consider."

Owner? What did she mean by that?

"Your entire body is composed of only 2 elements of your original old body, heart, and vocal cords, make it 3 if we talk about the hair transplant. You are filled with purely cotton, and the skin replacement you got is some expensive silk fabric, so it is better for you to avoid extreme humidity to prevent mold from growing on you, the new eyes are 2 black buttons, stitched of course, your image will be really bad in color and distance but the quality should be good enough. The rest of the head and relevant remaining features of the body are made with silicon, but like the nose, they do not have any functional use. The mouth is sealed, completely stitched in a smiley shape, we don't want to see you sad now, do we? the collar is an accessory, remove it and you die. But I do not recommend you to do that, if you believe in hell well, you are in for something far worse. And As for your owner, if she breaks you the warranty only lasts 6 months, after that we make a charge depending on the damage, you give her that message, you will find a way. You will recover motion control in a few hours, probably soon after delivering you. That's about it..."

Before I could even start to process anything of what the surgeon told me, I saw a shadow being cast over me, and then I was lifted to meet the surgeon's eyes. Green eyes filled with cruelty. She was examining me, every detail of my body, picking up my limbs with 2 fingers and giving them a soft squeeze before letting them fall by gravity. She was proud.

"That outfit does make you look really good, want to see?"

She then lifted some sort of mirror in front of me, and then I could see myself. She raised my head by pushing it lightly with her thumb, there was I. A lifeless body, almost inanimated, I could feel touch, hear, and see. The colors were weak, but I was dressed from head to toe in some type of elegant butler's attire. My face was completely ruined with a fake expression of slight happiness. My collar had some sort of attachment on it, and I was not excited to know what use they were going to give it.

Soon I was placed inside a box, and my will to fight was not there anymore, what life could I ever expect? The only human thing I had left was my still resonating heart, useless vocal cords that could barely create a sound, and a figure so weak and fragile I could barely feel any type of control in my new form.

But soon I would meet my "owner". The person who asked for this, the one who made this living nightmare happen to me.

I remained inside the box for a few hours, I started moving my limbs back again, they felt very light and also hollow. I tried to stand up once, but my legs felt weak, and couldn't hold my body for long before I fell again to the ground. Eventually, I could hear footsteps, small quakes surrounding me, and after that, I got the sensation of being lifted as if it were some sort of elevator.

The gates of the box above me got opened, and I was faced with the most horrifying truth, something I was not considering. A familiar face.

"I-I can't believe it worked."

Her trembling and soft voice, her long messy hair, and those tired eyes that once used to cause me such comfort now were a reason for my heartbeat to increase in panic. It was my ex-girlfriend, she was the one behind this...

"I am sorry for doing this, but I missed you so much..."

It's been almost 3 years

"I could not think of anything else besides you, I needed you back, but I knew your answer."

I wanted to block her from everything, I thought she had no way to reach me anymore.

"This time we can be together, the right way because this time I won't let you go away."

Her slender fingers reached me as I tried to crawl away from them until I hit the corner of the box, with no escape I let go of sound, a remnant of what could be an attempt of begging. Beg her to release me, to stop this madness, but it was all too late.

She closed her right fist slowly around me, leaving little space for me to escape, she caressed my face with her left index, and I could do nothing to get away from it.

"You know this can be easy for both of us, you just have to behave, to care and love me back as you used to, to be mine and only mine...Forever and ever. Because you are mine, my only precious doll."

She whispered while keeping me close to her chest, breathing in some type of relaxed manner to ease my nerves, but the only one getting that relief was her. My life was reduced to being a toy, one that could not even fight back her finger, always at her grasp, at her sight. With little to no chance to see the light of day again.

By the end of the day, my enclosure was a doll house she had built for me, right beside her bed, but she was not ready to leave me on my own yet.

As I could hear the rain starting to pour in the streets, she held me close in the bed, she was asleep as I tried to get the weight of her hand out of me, to get far from the warm air of her resting breath, but none of my movements caused an inconvenience.

Soon, as time passed, the only human thing I had left were the tears I released in silence while she rested, and dreamt about me.

[vladtepesishot]

Hi there, I just read 'His Vessel' and I LOVED it. I was wondering if you intend to do a part two where he finds out the reader is pregnant and he's just super protective and whipped for her. I also noticed that your requests were open and was hoping to request another Dracula (2020) x reader where the two meet (maybe she works with Zoe or is a friend of Lucy) and he just falls head over heels for her.

warnings: none

notes: thank you for your request!! this is kinda chaotic but i did my best :p btw out of topic my dog gave birth today😭😭i'm a proud grandmama

word count:1257

My reflection gazed back at my distorted face, while a mascara brush was being shifted in my hands. I heard her approach me from behind in a cat-like manner, her sequin dress jingling and ruining the silence, and when she was close enough, I could even see her with my peripheral vision. I pulled my hand away to prevent any damage to my makeup. “You done?” she asked in her usual bubbly voice, giggling. The glimpse of her glitter-covered look made it difficult for me to maintain a serious expression.

“Yeah, just give me two more minutes, Lucy.” I answered, turning my head back to the mirror, searching for any flaws in my appearance.

Noticing that, the girl pulled my elbow, cheerily yelling, "You look good! Let's go!"

She dragged me out of my bathroom and towards the exit from my apartment. I grabbed my purse and keys which laid on the small dressing table near the door. Checking myself in the mirror one last time, I left.

The chilly night air made me regret not grabbing any outerwear with me. Lucy, on the other hand, wasn’t bothered. Fortunately, our destination was just around the corner. At that time, the roads were quiet, so the entire neighborhood, it seemed, could hear every breath we took, every click of our heels, and every rustle of our dresses.

Entering the dimly lit club, I could feel a gaze piercing into me. Although I couldn't identify where it was coming from, it gave me the chills. Perhaps, it was just the loud music vibrating in my body. Lucy, filled with joy, departed from me to greet everyone with hugs and kisses. She pointed at me with a huge smile, the loud music totally drowned out her voice, but I assumed she was introducing me to those around her. I stepped closer, looking into their faces, searching for the pair of eyes that were drilling into me, but I couldn't find it. I smiled back at Lucy and her friends and joined the crowd on the dance floor and turned to Lucy to maybe find an answer to my discomfort in her eyes, but instead she grabbed my hands and spun around. When she paused, she pulled me over to the bar counter while screaming something at the bartender that I was unable to hear. She looked around, pointed at someone, and then spoke directly into my ear, “You see that blue-eyed guy in the white shirt and black jacket? That’s the guy I was talking about the other day, Quincey.”

I looked at the man and spoke back into Lucy’s ear. “Sorry, I don’t see the appeal, maybe I’m looking at the wrong guy.” She called him by the name, and he looked in our direction with a smug expression. “Oh, I guess it was the right guy.” I added, laughingly. Lucy handed me some red drink in a cocktail glass, its alcoholic smell tickled my nose. Quincey approached us and Lucy jumped from her seat to give him a passionate kiss. She presented me and decided to do some dancing with him. Sipping on my drink, I observed Lucy greet more and more people as they gathered. The bitter taste of alcohol burned my throat and left a warm feeling in my stomach. I ordered another one of those, when I was done. Checking my surroundings, I decided to settle on the leather couch across the room, whose color was barely distinguishable in the bright pink and blue club lights. I noticed someone take a seat right next to me. A gentleman, I’d say. Dressed completely in black with a neat haircut, and gracefully aged. High cheekbones, onyx colored eyes, rich brows. Veiny hands with a ring on each one.

The sheer aristocracy of his face made the time go slower, until I realized that he could actually see me as well. I smiled, trying to relieve the tension between us. He took my free hand and brought it to his lips, giving it a peck. Then, he pulled away, still holding my hand and smiling back at me. I took another sip of my drink. Surprisingly, I was the first one to speak, "What does a noble guy like you do in this shithole?"

He chuckled at my words and responded, "Is that how you start a conversation?" I nodded, a bit embarrassed. He didn't answer, containing the mystery around him and letting go of my hand.

"Are you alone here? I didn’t get your name." I continued the chain of questions.

His smile grew bigger and more lighthearted, "Count Dracula.” he bowed his head. “I think so. It depends on what you mean by ‘alone’. Are you alone?”

“Count?” I raised my eyebrows and giggled in surprise. I finished my beverage and placed my glass on the nearby table, "Uh, yeah, I guess, my friend's here, but it's no big deal, she's hanging out with her… boyfriend." I looked in Lucy’s direction to find her making out with the man I was referring to.

The Count once again grabbed my attention towards him by brushing a few stray hairs away from my forehead and speaking in a playful fashion, “Well, charming ladies, like yourself, rarely remain alone for long.”

I turned away from him, trying to maintain my cool and inspect the world outside my bubble, that I just let this stranger in. Standing up, I immediately wanted to sit back down because of the alcohol that I ingested. I kept going towards the backdoor to get some fresh air outside. Instead, I was welcomed by the ashy odor of cigarette smoke coming from a group of people. “Have a spare cig?” I spoke loud enough for those people to hear. A few of them reached out, I randomly took one and put it between my lips. I stepped a few feet away from other people and took a deep breath, reflecting on the handsome stranger before lighting my cigarette. I looked around, just to find him standing at the door, observing me. He kept making direct eye contact with me until I saw him getting closer. Taking my half-finished cigarette, he dropped it on the ground, the harsh taste remaining in my mouth. As he gently put his hand on my jaw, our faces grew painfully close. Examining the man’s face, I placed my hand on his chest in an attempt to feel him. His scent got into my nose, I could sense my soul yearn for the stranger, whom I met about 5 minutes ago and my brain telling me I’m stupid for doing that. Still, the outside world was a blur in that moment. In an effort to glimpse into my raw soul in all its glory, his eyes were striving to dig deeper into me and strip me of my human flesh, hypnotizing me. Unable to contain the agonizing desire, I pressed my lips against his. He responded by gracefully caressing my waist, prolonging the moment which already seemed to last an eternity. I was the first one to retreat, but he continued to give me light kisses on the cheek. We remained still as we plainly stared at one another, until Lucy appeared in the picture, waving goodbye to her mates and encouraging me to hurry up and go home. I whispered a raspy “Goodbye” to the Count and followed the young woman. “Ooh, have you found someone for yourself?” she exclaimed as she turned around to take one last look at him.

[ryuzatodraws-backup]

🎷🎶

It’s Sunday as the girls decided it would be the perfect time for a little shopping. They make their ways through the busy street adorning their best outfit that matches their chrome masks. A few passerbys bid them good morning while a few others makes way for them. They know exactly who they are, the girls of the Green Gem club.

Copia settles in between the ghoulettes as she walks, it is a cheery morning as they chat. ‘’Oh you girls should show me where are the best stores are!’’

Cirrus gasps as she points at a clothing store, the window display there’s all sorts of array of clothing. ‘’This is the best in town and they’re having a sale!’’

‘’We should go in!’’ Sunshine chirps as she tugs Cumulus’s hand. ‘’Come on!’’

___________

‘’So~ are you going to tell us about what happened last night?’’ Cirrus watches Copia as she twirls the dress in front of the mirror.

‘’Oh! Last night’’ she turns towards the taller ghoulette, even with the face paint , the girls could see a tinge of pink flush on her ears. ‘’Well~’’

‘’Oh do tell!’’ Sunshine coaxes her, they only have been performing together for a month but they found Copia easy to work with, and she makes a good ol’ mean spaghetti bolognese.

‘’Well last night, you know how I always receive a bouquet after a show?’’ Copia takes a seat between the girls on the lounge chair.

.~~~

It was beautiful, fragrant and fresh as always.Roses, lilies, lavenders of all kind, without a fault there will always be a card in between those flowers.

A card with the roman number 3 on it. It will always be purple as well.

Copia decided to ask Secondo about it, to which the man ended up chuckling.

‘’You always see them in first row, with me’’

‘’With you?’’ Copia squints and hums before a familiar face pops in her head.

Another jazz singer, who without a fail will always be front row either with Secondo or without.

She changes to her usual dress before heading out, to her luck she spotted the man she was thinking about. Slowly she approaches him who was preoccupied with other men at the lounge. Seeing her however the men smiles and bows slightly.

‘’What an amazing performance tonight Copia, you never failed us.’’ One of the older gentleman with red suit smiles at her.

‘’Grazie, you’re always so kind.’’ Copia stands behind the man he wanted to see, she didn’t expect for him to be so short. His head is just at the right height of her chest.

Slowly Terzo turns towards her with a smile. ‘’Sorella, good evening.’’ He offers his hand. Copia happily receives it before he brought his lips to her palm, kissing the black leather glove softly.

‘’Well it seems like I finally met with the man behind the mysterious bouquet of flowers I received.’’ Copia caresses his thumb softly.

‘’My my do you like them?’’ Terzo ends up leading her away from the crowd into a more secluded area, near the bar. ‘’I was hoping by sending you a few that I can guess your favourites’’

‘’You certainly did’’

They took a seat , Terzo signals to the bartender and the man nods before passing them both a glass of whiskey. Copia’s glass has a small umbrella to it. The man in front of her smiles a bit.

‘’Do you also like to take your whiskey with a little?’’ He gestures to the colorful umbrella.

‘’Oh I do! It makes things fun.’’ Copia smiles and sips.

Time passes by before the bartender ushers them that they are closing.

Terzo leads Copia out slowly through the back door

‘’But surely that’s not all that you did, right?’’ Sunshine reapplies another nail polish on Copia’s finger.

‘’True! Did he get grabby? Steal a kiss from you?’’ Cumulus fixes her hair as she set her mask away,

The girls are back in Cirrus’s room as they pamper themselves with the dresses and snacks that they’ve brought earlier. It also starts to rain outside.

‘’Come on Copia do tell!’’ The girls gathers around her with big puppy eyes.

‘’Oh alright’’ she giggles before continuing.

—

He did lead her towards the back, the back of the spiral staircase as they slowly kisses. Terzo is smaller than her but the way he carries himself makes him 4 feet bigger than the female singer. Copia is smitten.

‘’Come, cara’’ he offers her his hand which she gladly takes. Together they went up the staircase, on the roof.

The night is bright with the streetlights and the taller buildings. Cars honking slowly as the wind breezes them both. Terzo takes the chance to wrap his arm around her waist, she pulls the man into another sloppy kiss. It feels as if it lasts forever.

After a few more minutes ,Terzo leads her back down and sends her home privately with his car.

—

‘’You tell me that you didn’t have sex with him?’’ Cirrus changes her robe into one of her lace pyjama. She also seems to have a cheeky smile on her face.

‘’Goodness no! It’s…it’s just a kiss.’’ Copia blushes as she settles back into the pillows, watching the tv.

‘’Hmm A kiss? I’m pretty sure i can count many other kisses in there’’ Sunshine counts with her fingers.

‘’Will you see him again?’’ This time Cumulus leans in curiously, her blue eyes twinkling.

Copia smiles as she bites her lips. ‘’Si, I hope so.’’

[sufferingsouls]

you have found rapookie's hub blog! this is my main blog that has all of my original characters as side-blogs. this seemed like a nifty idea and way more organized way of having a multi-muse (since i could never handle more than one blog at a time) so i decided to join on the bandwagon! basically, all my characters are on individual side-blogs and you'll only receive a follow back from this main one. i highly recommend following which characters interest you the most as then it would make plotting and writing a lot easier so i can see who's more wanted! i'll be reblogging ask memes, general wanted plots, and any out of character stuff on this main blog and all side-blogs will contain things pertaining only to that respective character!

let's get down to the personal stuff! you can call me rapookie! i'm 27 years old, in the GMT-7 timezone. i work with coffee, have three cats, an unhealthy car and redbull obsession, a single mom to a wonderful boy, and in a relationship with the best golden retriever boy that a black cat girl can ask for! DRAFTS: 0 / INBOX: 0 / QUEUE: 0 / open for plotting. / UPDATED: 6/19

i don't want to list out a bunch of guidelines so each side-blog will have its own specific ones (if necessary) and you can assume that all basic rp guidelines are applicable! such as: no godmod, no hate/ooc drama, use proper grammar, don't rush replies/force ships, don't steal content, mun does not equal muse, and i only like to write with 20 and above! i'm also a big lover of novella and para rps but short para and one-liners can be fun too! want to write? my inbox/dms or sending ask memes is the best ice breaker!

hey, you. YEAH YOU! check out my INTERST TRACKER! it is the best way to get some plots and threads going! that way i know what kind of stuff you want to write and with who! makes for smoother rping!

the fun part! here are my muses and their respective side-blogs! i encourage you to follow the ones you're interested in so i know who to send memes from, throw open starters at, and so forth!

JOSIAH ALLEN @pitofdespaiir | 31 yrs old - bartender at a local, dingy pub while working to re-build his pub “the pit” - human - bisexual, femme leaning - he/him - played by skeet ulrich. JOAN SUMMERS @joanofsummers | 24 yrs old - college student majoring in medicine with an aspiration to be a doctor & part-time librarian and baker - human / vampire slayer - heterosexual - she/her - played by ashley benson. LOCHLAN SUMMERS @theforgottentwiin | turned at 17, 24 yrs old - bartender - vampire - heterosexual - he/him - played by hunter parrish. EASTON WEATHERS @existinginshadow | 30 yrs old - drug dealer & owner of the exclusive gentleman’s club “the mint lounge” - human - heterosexual - he/him - played by brett dalton. JENNIFER WHITE @boreofwealth | 25 yrs old - thief for hire - human - bisexual - she/her - played by phoebe tonkin.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Cupid's Curse

Chapter Three

Warnings: attempted rape, stalking, stripping, Señor Jake, Aphrodite's questionable tastes

A/N: Please remember this fic is exploring dark themes

Taglist: @gingermous

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

Eros was not your name when Aphrodite selected you as her avatar. Your prayer was to be able to love life to see what she saw in the world. In her temple, she gifted you with her eyes, her ears, her heart; you were given the ability to love life and spread the words of the Goddess. Sung praise, shared stories, you did your job with a joyful heart.

Her Agape. You loved everyone, everything, and Goddess with all of your heart.

And because of that love your heart broke painfully.

The death of the Olympians by the hands of Hercules had left many of the avatars of the Greek Gods to lose faith. Without faith, it became the final nail in the coffin. Hades and Gods of the underworld lived for death and fear of the underworld will never fade; love is not the same. Aphrodite was dying as love started to become less genuine and more transactional. Then when you started to cast doubt… Hercules uses swords to show how weak the Olympus was, and with a sword is dug the first seeds of doubt.

You grieved, in her temple whaled in anguish, your Goddess loved you… Loved you so much she became part of your heart. Though you curse it, at times wish to rip it out, you never want to part from your Goddess. She lives on through you.

All forms of love.

Because you feed on love, sort of speak, you work at this gentleman's club as a waitress. Serving drinks, cleaning tables, helping the ladies with changing clothes. It's a classy strip club and the owner makes sure it stays that way.

The club is also where you saw the final man. Everyone at the club calls him Lockley, he's a cab driver and gives amazing tips to the strippers. Twice his gaze, cold and dangerous, has landed on you. The bartender says he isn't a bad guy and the most decent one who comes here regularly. The bartender's Cockney accent was thick as he spoke to you about Lockley a few months ago.

Gods above, Aphrodite please stop doing this to my heart! You beg in the employee bathroom to the silent Goddess.

You do your usual waitering tasks serving drinks and taking orders from the old men or bore younger men. The strippers doing their jobs, the music is loud, the energy of lust thick in the air. Sometimes you bask in it when on break, hiding from the sight of mortal perception. You get off on it more these days with Aphrodite than you did before your union, sex was never really high on your list of needs.

Eros and Mania have worsened since the three men you found fascinating crossed your path. Mania is the dangerous one and you fight to keep it in check.

The gentleman's club, you off balance it with Eros but the dark side of Eros is how you crave physical attention. You wear a dress shirt with sleeves and pants, you make sure there is no way a person can touch your skin.

You don't serve Lockley his drinks. The last thing you need is to touch him and end up being overcome by lust.

The curse, a Cupid's Curse, your touch or aura can alter the emotions of those around you. Like on the bus, expect your touch is far more potent and can last for how long you have contact with a person.

You rather not use it on Steven or Marc or Lockley, it would hurt them and you refuse to do such a thing!

"(Name)." You were at the counter when your boss called you over, "I know this is irregular but can you cover for a lass on the stage? She called in sick."

You nod. Not the first time you stripped up there or did something erotic as a performance.

"Thanks, I can always count on you." Tapping your shoulder, "Same routine as before." In emergencies you made a routine to fill in for or to stall for time until the next performance.

This is also another way to be given attention and make an extra few bucks.

You head to the unaware of those sharp dark brown eyes following you.

*

"See you tomorrow!" Waving goodbye to the bartender as you leave the club. The night air is always great to feel after work, it's hot and the lights with music blaring in the background can get to you. The silent night in London is peaceful, dangerous, but peaceful. Your shoes click against the pavement as you walk home since the buses do not run this late. Walking at a fair pace, you realize something is off. Glancing over your shoulder a few times.

Being watched. Being followed. Wow, not the first time the reverse happened to you. You are worried but all you can hope is to get this over with quickly.

You keep walking then you feel something sharp pressed against the middle of your back, a hand grabbing your arm quickly bringing it behind your back at an awkward painful position.

"Keep your eyes forward and don't fight back." You recognize this voice. "Got it?"

You nod then are pushed towards an alley.

To say this is your first time being in this short of situation, avatars of Gods of indulgences were seen as weak and objectified; they easily forget how Medusa was created because of such cruelty. You have killed many who sought to use you in such a way.

"Be a good girl for daddy, put your hands up on the wall." Your hands go to the wall, he kicks your legs open. This will not end well, "Gonna give you my cock, slut." For him.

Love as easily can be given, it can be taken away. Leave someone hollow with no ability to feel anything. Your eyes glow a bright pink as he attempts to take off your pants.. The second he touches skin will be his doom—

Crack!

You gasp and turn around seeing a man with a flat cap suckerpunched the man from the club you recognized. He picks up the knife that was used against you, it fell out of the other man's hand when he was sent flying into a pile of trash bags and cans.

"Pedazo de mierda." Twirling the knife in his gloved hand.

You stand there surprised to see Lockley here and viciously beating the hells out of the man who attempted to have his way with you.

Aphrodite's heart skips a beat at the sight of blood and sounds of begs for mercy, the apologies and the way Lockley is merciless. You recall how Ares was when he was around the love Goddess. Scary stuff.

"Señorita?"

You ran away for his sake you had to run.

[a-shy-blueberry]

Tequila Sunrise

Title: Tequila Sunrise

A/N: Hi everyone, this is actually my first bnha fic and I'm really excited!! I used to write all the time but with college I dropped it so it's great to start up again. ☺️ I hope you enjoy! Oh and the characters here are aged up to pro heroes so somewhere in their twenties.

Genre: Smut, some fluff

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x F!Reader

Summary: When someone sends you a drink, the last thing you'd expect is to take home their grumpy friend.

Warnings: Pro Hero Au, Mentions of drinking/ Alcohol use. Smut!! Oral female receiving, Use of condoms, Language, Possibly OOC, excessive use of “Princess” as a nickname, No beta (please tell me if something is weird, I will love you forever. 18+ only, Minors DNI.

Word Count: 3.1k

If you prefer, posted to my AO3 here

“Mina, I really don’t need to go out, I’ll be perfectly fine here, I even have plans,” you try to plead. Mina looked you over with a smirk. The pinkette was positively ruthless when it came to ignoring your excuses. 

You hadn’t done much following college, once you managed a job you basically just kept your head down tearing through assignment after assignment completely buried in your work. Sans the few times Mina got fed up with your recluse nature and forced you out of the house. 

“Ah got a hot date with a book and some knitting do we? Come on, we’re going out, I really need a drink and you deserve to go out and have some fun too!!” she pleaded. 

She had a point, and really you were doing your friends a service, it wasn’t as though anyone else would survive a night with her. Her stamina skyrocketed the second she left the house, energy effusing as she dragged everyone into a good time. It also hadn’t helped that you hadn’t been out for fun since… Oh god I can’t remember 

“Fine, I’ll go but, no shots,” you said.

Mina slumped your shoulders and stuck out a pouty lip, “Aww, you’re no fun.”

“Barfing my guts out isn't fun!” You exclaimed.

“It's fun for me,” Mina said with a smirk, and with that, You headed to your room to find something suitable for tonight

The two of you arrived at the club without much incident. Mina dressed in some insanely short mini dress that looked adorable on her, you had opted for a sleeveless black jumpsuit. The material left little to the imagination but, wearing anything more conservative would make you stand out. 

Mina was quick to find her catch of the night and disappeared within ten minutes of arriving, so you sat at the bar and ordered a whiskey.  

The club was relatively full, some new band apparently was performing but the bar itself was decently empty. Two gentlemen sat on the end opposite you, one obviously scouting out the crowd, the other had his head down in his drink.  They were both reasonably attractive, blonde, and clearly active both with enviable physiques. The scouter was lean, and pretty, fashionably wearing various pieces of jewelry and a black jacket. His friend, however, was absolutely gorgeous. His hair, a bit messy so he looked sort of like a porcupine but the hard line of his jaw larger frame made him appear like he'd burst out of his clothes at any minute 

 You were entertaining the thought of jackets and t-shirts ripping just from the sheer strain of one's muscles of completely engrossed in your own head when the bartender interrupted your fantasies.

“Tequila Sunrise for the lady,” the bartender slid the drink to you and continued, “Courtesy of the gentleman over there.”

You looked over again, peering at the blonde-haired man the bartender gestured to.

It was the desperate man from the end of the bar, who began waving to you, then he started pointing to his friend who looked like he wanted to drown him in his drink. Oh god, did they catch you checking them out? You lifted your whiskey so they could see it, and threw it back. Then taking the weird offer, you strolled to join them at the end of the bar, dread already filling your stomach as you hoped you'd be able to play it somewhat cool and escape with your dignity intact. 

Sizing the two up, you figured deflecting any advances would be the best course of action so you approached a plan already in mind

“I hate to say it but, I'm not really a sunrise kind of girl,” you handed your drink to the instigator with a look and followed, “I think this drink might suit you better.” With that, the quiet guy chuckled. 

“Careful Dunce Face, I think you got you figured out,” he muttered. Dunce Face gave him a look.  The intensity of his red eyes flashing made your mouth feel suddenly dry. But his reaction made you pause. Maybe they hadn't noticed your staring

“Well, well, I know when my efforts are in vain,” said the blonde man, very clearly noting your reaction to his friend. He waved his hand in an airy motion. “I'll just have to console myself with some other beautiful young lady,” then he winked at you and walked off leaving you alone with his compatriot. The man just watched his friend leave and grimaced. 

“Typical.”

“Excuse me?” you asked. Sure his friend very obviously set the dude up but it’s not like you weren't a catch. 

“Nothin’ against ya, I just don’t need some extra wasting my time tonight,” he practically growled, his voice deep and raspy. 

“Well given that you are sitting in a bar… alone… and your friend appears to have already met a lovely somebody and will likely be occupied for some time, how on earth would I be wasting your time?” Your tone came off sickeningly sweet and condensing, causing you to wince internally, words rushing to your defense at his rudeness. 

He just looked at you, his expression unreadable but not hostile anymore. 

You looked back and weighed your options, granted it had been months since you'd even been close to getting any action, and he certainly was attractive, but standoffish and yet there was something about him you couldn’t quite place, a familiarity of sorts that made you more comfortable in his presence. 

“Now that we've gotten terrible first impressions, would you care for some company?" You said. The man looked at you and took another sip of his beer and shrugged so you took a seat next to him. You wiggled a little in your seat already impatient with the awkward silence "Sooo… are you going to introduce yourself?" you inquired.

 “The name's Bakugou,” he said gruffly.

“Oh, I'm-...,” You ended up mumbling through the last part, your nerves finally catching up to you.

Shit, how do you mess up your own name?!  Covering quickly you finished and gave him your name. Bakugou shot you a raised brow and you hoped he would let it pass.

“Okay Y/N,” he emphasized. “Would you care for a drink?”

Awkward introductions aside, the two of you actually ended up having a pretty great time. Bakugou talked with you for what seemed like hours, real talk, or at least as real as he could be with a total stranger, and as it grew late, Bakugou didn't want the night to end. He had found you to be completely alluring. He had been a hero for a while now, which meant that many women had displayed their ability to charm but, that always came off different from the real thing, with you it didn't have that edge. Like you didn’t care about the status of heroes (granted you hadn’t believed him at first when he told you what he did for work, insisting on googling him only for your eyes to turn round as saucers). 

You were utterly gorgeous, with captivating eyes, a color you could just get lost in. Your lips were bare, as was most of your face, but you had this glow about you when you talked with him so animatedly. He could have admired your face for days but he had been a little distracted by your outfit. The fabric hugged your curves just right and cascaded in subtle waves down your leg. As if that wasn't enough, the suit added a plunging neckline. Oh, my god, that outfit just about made his mouth water. Well, truthfully it did make his mouth water which is why he spent the better part of the night face down in his drink. It was as if you had been created to seduce.

Just as he was turning back to his drink to disguise the subtle blush that was forming from looking at you for so long, you interrupted his train of thought “So… would you like to continue this over a cup of coffee, perhaps at my place?” Bakugou looked at you slowly and swallowed hoping his voice would come out clear. 

“I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee.”

You silently cursed your door as you tried to jimmy it open, Bakugou's mouth was pressed into your neck as he tried loosening your shirt to expose your shoulder. When the shirt came free, he pressed a trail of kisses from your collarbone to your shoulder, oh my god. It shouldn't feel this good yet.

You threw your thigh against the door finally getting the door open. Now just to make it to the bed. you had turned back to Bakugou, hands intertwined in his hair, leading him towards the room. Sensing where to go, he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you. You wrapped your legs around him and began to press soft kisses against his temple, making your way to his mouth. When you met your mark, you gently pulled his bottom lip between your teeth and felt the groan in his throat before you even heard it.

Stumbling into the room, Bakugou laid you on the bed and they quickly started removing yours and his boots. You shrugged the sleeves off your bodysuit and carefully peeled it off of your leaving only a simple black bra, and thankfully black lace panties. Bakugou looked at your new state of dress and his eyes grew dark with lust.

You stood up off the bed and wrapped your hands around the edges of his jacket. you pressed your lips to where his soft spot on his neck met his collarbone and moved up to his jawline. Keeping him distracted with your lips, you took his hand and moved it to cup your breast, Bakugou began rubbing the silken fabric of your bra with his thumb. When his hand moved towards the clasp of your bra you swatted it away.

“I seem to be awfully underdressed in comparison here,” you teased in a singsong voice, allowing your hands to spread across his chest under his jacket.

"Oh is that right," his tone was teasing but he was already dropping his jacket on the chair beside them, he took your hands and wrapped them around the edge of his shirt. You lifted and bit your lip to avoid exclaiming out loud. The pale sinewy skin of his abdomen radiated heat under your fingertips and all you wanted to do was run your hands all over him. While you were distracted, Bakugou lifted his shirt over your head. You looked up to see hard shoulders and sculpted biceps, and with that, you let out a small whine.

“Like what you see?” he teased. Your face went flush. Bakugou grasped your hand and brought it to his chest, spreading your fingers so you could explore. Your fingers traced the edges of his pecks, darting inwards to graze his nipples. Bakugou gasped.

"So I guess it pays to be a pro huh?" You teased as you took him in, tracing the lines of his abdomen, as you crept closer to his belt your touch got lighter. When you reached the soft patch of hair peeking out the edge of his pants, Bakugou had stopped breathing, the bulge of his cock was straining against his pants. You grasped his buckle, after fumbling with it for a minute, you finally found the small button on the underside of the buckle and the belt came off.

Bakugou pushed you onto the bed, dropping his pants as he approached you. His erection was plain as day through the thin fabric of his boxers, your mouth went dry. you wanted him inside you.

“I’m not going to last long if you keep looking at me like that,” Bakugou said, his voice husky with lust. You realized you had been biting your lip and tried to control your expression. you sat up curling a hand behind his neck and pulled him down to meet your lips. Bakugou’s hands moved to your waist, then traveled upward to the clasp of your bra, waiting a moment, he looked at you for approval and you nodded.

"You have to tell me what you want Princess," he teased.

"Ah, yes please," you begged, you were already keyed up your body so tense in anticipation you could snap like a rubber band.

With a flick of his fingers, your clasp was undone leaving your breasts to pool into the loose bra. Bakugou removed one strap, and then the other, and you removed the arm that had been holding up your bust. When he looked at you his eyes darkened and he slowly ran his tongue over his lips, “May I?” he asked.

You could barely choke out your reply. He started by cupping your breast, gently running a finger over your nipple, softly squeezing it, teasing it till it hardened. Then he brought it to his mouth and you could no longer contain your pleasure. “Oh fuck,” you exclaimed, your voice breathy, elated by the sensations you were feeling. Bakugou brought his hand to cup your unattended breast and began the same process again. Twirling your nipple between his fingers only to move in with gentle teeth, nipping, kissing, sucking as your hands grasped for purchase, clinging to him as he drove you wild. “Bakugou, please,” you begged. Bakugou pried your hands free from him and laid you on the bed. He moved his mouth down, across your stomach, down to your thighs then rested there, gently kissing the insides of your thighs.

“Does the lady have a request while I’m down here?” You could feel him smirking into your leg as his kissing darted closer to your cunt, only to move away. 

“Fuck, Bakugou please,” you pleaded, and he pulled at the waist of your underwear, freeing you to him. He carefully slid a finger into your folds, caressing the tip of your clit between his finger and thumb. When you had just about had too much, his tongue joined them. Your fingers curled their way into his hair, trying in vain to hold on, Bakugou began to whisper into your cunt until you came, pleasure rocking your body into spasms.

“Oh Princess, you’re drenched,” he said, licking his lips off the remains of your orgasm. You sat up still shaking and pulled his chin towards bringing him into a sloppy kiss, the salty taste of you still fresh on his lips. With this, you grabbed his shoulders and flipped him so he was lying face-up on the bed.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked.

“Inner pocket of my jacket,” he said, and you lept off the bed to grab it. You returned grasping a condom, you unwrapped it and stuck two fingers in to begin the unfurling process, with your hand you pulled down the waistband of his underwear drinking in the sight of his dick. It was completely hard, red and it looked一 angry, small little jerks happening to demand your attention. You almost forgot what you were doing at the sight of him, you wanted him inside you now.

You quickly put on the condom and pulled off his boxers, you straddled him between your legs. You looked down at him wanting to memorize this forever. He looked absolutely wrecked, red marks from your teasing earlier littered his chest, his cock pressed nearly against his stomach, bobbing for attention, and his eyes almost blown black with lust. A rather terrible idea crossed your mind “Does the gentleman have a request while I’m down here?” you teased a coy smile on your lips as you let spit drool over his cock, your hand lightly tracing over his length.

“Fuck Princess,” he said.

You smirked, “I don’t think that was a request.”

Bakugou gave you a pointed look, “Fuck. Me.” he said, enunciating every word, with that you lifted, lowering yourself onto his shaft. Oh, fuck. you began to move, slow and steady rolls of your hips, feeling the way his length filled every inch of you to the brim, your cunt fluttering as you took him in.

"Princess you've got to stop squeezing me like that," his hips were moving jerkily, short shallow thrusts into you as he tried to hold himself back.

"Shit shit shit," you breathed, the pressure was teasing but not enough. You leaned down and held onto his shoulders and grounded down against his pelvis, once he had stopped, you lifted yourself off of him till just the tip remained inside and slammed back down, taking it at a faster pace as you both grew closer. He started moaning, gasping your name over and over.

“Bakugou,” you moaned, lifting herself off of him only to bury the complete length of him inside her. You were on edge, but you needed just that extra push.  You reached a hand down drawing circles around your clit. A few more thrusts and you would finish. Bakugou looked like he was holding on so you pushed another full thrust, and when the lips of your cunt met the base of his cock you came so hard you saw stars, your own orgasm put Bakugou over the edge and he sputtered into you. Gently rocking against each other as waves of pleasure passed over you.

When you both finally finished, you dismounted. Bakugou got up to dispose of the condom while you laid there, brain still not quite comprehending what had happened. Next thing you knew he had you up and was ushering you to the bathroom to pee, handing you a t-shirt and panties to put on. When you came back the messy sheets were gone, and he was replacing them with your spares wearing his boxers. 

“How did you even find those, and the pajamas???” you asked, internally facepalming at that being your choice of words to say following everything that night. 

“Checked the drawers, figured we didn’t want to sleep on anything wet, and you probably wanted clothes, you seemed pretty out of it still,” he said with a shrug. Pointing to the drawers under your bed. Your brain was still trying to process the man actually changing your sheets, and taking care of you

“We…” You started, feeling presumptuous. It wasn’t exactly common for hookups to spend the night. 

Bakugou finished with the sheet and crawled into bed, gesturing for you to join him. 

“Yes idiot, we. Now get yer ass over here,” You crawled in after Bakugou and pulled you up to him and you nuzzled your head against his chest.  It wasn’t long before you had drifted asleep, pleasantly encircled in his arms.

Thank you so much for reading!! Likes, comments, reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[lacheri]

streets

pairing: dom!Levi x stripper!fem bodied reader

content: modern au, sex work (stripping), degradation, hint of praise kink, fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, choking, slapping, dom/sub themes, Levi's a whole freak in the sheets, also mf has a split personality, minors DNI

summary: erwin drags his lonely best friend, levi, out to a strip club.

wc: 7.7k

Violent vibrations of bass shook through your platform teasers, one leg moving tantalizingly slow in front of the other as neon lights flashed around you. The silver pole loomed in front of you, your hips swaying as you strutted across the stage. You could feel the intense stare of eyes belonging to strangers as you finally wrapped your fingers one by one around the cold metal, circling so slowly around it, pushing your ass and chest out on display. You flicked your eyes up, heavy from false eyelashes, and searched around you.

Some familiar faces, most new, met your gaze as the club’s lights lit up in a dark red. They were all focused on you, sitting forward patiently in their plush seats, waiting to devour your body with their eyes. You leaned your back against the pole, looking down at your body. You were glad you had worn your favorite set of dancing gear, a see-through black mesh bralette and a matching set of panties, and of course, your six inch sparkly pleaser heels. It was simple, yet so effective when it came to the stuffed wallets of your onlookers.

There was one man in the sea of others who caught your attention tonight though. He sat directly in the center, his expression seemingly unamused and unentertained. You wanted to roll your eyes, discarding yourself of this fantasy you were presenting on stage. You resisted the urge, instead, turning your head in the opposite direction, and rolled your torso until you sat crouched. You leaned forward, head turned straight now, ass sticking right up in the air as the tops of your breasts squished against the stage. You used the leverage from your knees to shake your exposed ass cheeks, watching the raven haired man bring his hand to his face, stroking along his jaw as he took in the sight of you.

You parted your legs slowly, bringing a knee in front of the other, crawling towards the edge of the stage. You pushed yourself up from your elbows until you were in an upright position, allowing your hips to sink forward as you continued to roll your body to the beat. Still, no reaction, or sign that he was going to throw money on you, you scoffed internally and turned your attention to the blonde gentleman sitting closely next to him, a wad of dollar bills crushing in his grip. You smirked mischievously, leaning backwards until you felt the cold metal brush against your back. Flattening out, you brought your legs up, shaking them high in the air to allow your ass and thighs to move in rhythm. You felt the air brush past you as bills went flying in the air, and you smiled in euphoria. Money was your love language, and anyone who threw bills at your half naked form became your lover for however long your dance lasted.

You placed your feet on solid ground, leveraging yourself upwards to a full stand, turning around sauntering back to the pole. You wrapped a lone leg around the cold cylinder, elongated from your heels, and jumped into a spin. Your hands gripped high above you, dangling your head back as you swung in a pretty circle, your other leg posed straight down. Once you had found this balance, you let your right hand leave the stability of the pole, running it down the front of your body, over the swell of your breasts and the flat of your stomach, stopping right before you met your center. You slid downwards until both your feet met the stage floor as you crouched once more, popping your ass out to move the muscles one at a time of your cheeks. You glanced backwards, and you were pleased to see the dark haired man’s cold steel eyes locked in on your body.

He was very handsome, as was his blonde friend. Your best guess was that they were in their late twenties, maybe early thirties. You watched the ravenette reached in his pocket, almost in disgust as he pulled out single bills. You couldn’t see the dollar amount from your angle, so you maneuvered back onto your knees to give all your attention to the man in front of you. You tried the same move as before, crawling on all fours as seductively as you could, this time your knuckles wrapped around the very edge of the stage. You learned forward, a couple of feet away from the man as his expression darkened. As if you were a gravitational pull, he leaned forward as well, only a few inches away. Close enough to reach out and touch him, your thumb and pointer finger met the collar of his white button up, softly trailing the fabric. At the same time you reached out, he was doing the same, tucking the small stack of cash in between the valley of your breasts, managing to not touch any of your exposed skin as he did so.

Thinking about your other awaiting customers, you quickly withdrew your teasing, a smirk laced on your lips. You blew the man a kiss, winking, crawling backwards on the stage.

Your onlookers ravaged your body with their eyes as you continued your dance. Your chest was rising rapidly, out of breath as you did your final spin on the pole. You ended your dance in a slow split, toes pointed and curled as you felt your clothed pussy meet the now warmed material of the stage under you. You pulled yourself up after an explosion of cash was tossed on stage, flashing a seductive smile before retreating behind the curtain to the back of the stage. You’d have one of the security guys clean your cash up before the next girl walked on, knowing they’d get a small cut from doing you the favor.

You relaxed your body into a chair in the dressing room, sighing loudly. The room was empty, makeup and costumes littered about the mirror space as all the girls working were either out on the floor or giving out private dances. You just needed the quick break, you had danced pretty hard out there. You were debating switching outfits, as this one was a little too revealing for casually strolling on the floor.

You shrugged, getting up to get into your locker space, retrieving a cropped leather jacket, chains dangling around the body, brushing against your exposed skin and as you pushed your arms through the sleeves. This would at least give you the illusion that you were covered up much more than what you had believed.

Powdering your shiny face before you exited, you breathed in deeply as neon lights greeted you once again on the club floor. You worked at a pristine strip club, ratings high and prices even higher. There was a twenty dollar fee to even get in the place, and when you finally got in the door, the bouncers up front would make a copy of your driver’s license, just in case you fucked up somehow and they needed to add to you the banned list. Which was a pretty long list, hence the photo copies.

The dancers were high quality as well, all different shapes and sizes and ethnicities. It was almost like a buffet, you could get whatever you desired, just had to go out and look first. Everyone working the shifts danced, absolutely no exception. Of course, you’d want to dance though, making exceptionally more money than on the shifts where you’d stick behind the bar crafting drinks. If you were asked by one of your friends how much money you’d make on a night like this, you’d feel guilty as you would humbly lie, not wanting to entice them into auditioning at your place of employment. When the club was at full capacity, as it was right now as you sashayed to the bar, you could easily walk home with a couple grand. This job paid your bills, bought you pretty things, put food in your belly, it meant everything to you.

“Hey, Annie! Gin and tonic, pretty please,” you batted your thick eyelashes at your favorite blonde bartender.

She only nodded, shooting a desperate plea between you and the overcrowded area of the bar area with her eyes. You snickered, feeling her pain all too well, having spent many a night behind the counter, non-stop pouring drinks. Annie slid your drink over as quickly as she could, being stolen away by an already drunken man requesting a round of shots before you could hold a conversation with her. You shrugged, taking large gulps of your glass. You were parched from your dance, alcohol quenching your thirst. You hadn’t realized you downed your cocktail until you felt the clink of ice hit the front of your teeth. You left the empty glass at the bar, turning around and leaning against the counter as you planned out your next moves.

“You should dance to Doja Cat more often,” you heard a familiar voice hum next to you, looking up into the eyes of your security guard, Connie. A black bag you knew was full of your cash was held in his grip, a playful smile on his lips, “Took me like ten whole minutes to clean this up off the stage.”

You laughed lightly along with Connie, “What would I do without you? Could you put that in my locker for me, babe? I just left the dressing room.”

“‘S gonna’ cost you,” he joked, already leaving your form to follow your request. “You owe me a round of tequila shots, Patrón!”

Connie disappeared in the sea of bodies before you could call out a remark. You sighed, flopping your head onto your shoulder, eyeing back the gazes from different men who took in your relaxed body. None of them piqued your interest, and you found yourself feeling quite lonely in the middle of the club.

This was the last place on Earth Levi had pictured himself in. When Erwin had grabbed Levi’s arm, tugging him out of his home office, a strip club was the very last place Levi could’ve fathomed ending up in.

“You, my friend, are going to have a good fucking night!” Levi recalled his blonde friend shouting at him, tossing the much smaller man into Erwin’s passenger seat of his truck. Levi had only grumbled, disappointed his hot cup of tea would become cold in his absence, the novel he had been reading left disheveled on his desk. When Erwin had pulled into a parking lot, Levi finally had taken notice of their destination.

“What the fuck are we doing at a strip club?” he spat through clenched teeth, a migraine coming on.

“Attempting to get you laid,” Erwin smirked, sliding out from the driver’s seat. Levi had no choice but to follow, Erwin not giving him even a moment to try and talk his way into heading back home.

“Why?” Levi was seething, blood pumping loudly in his ears. Why did Erwin care about Levi’s state of his love life, or lack thereof?

“Levi,” Erwin paused, sighing before the entrance. “I’ve known you since sophomore year of college, that was almost six years ago, and that entire time I’ve seen you go out on one date. You didn’t even see the girl again after it either!”

“She was boring,” Levi defended, his eyebrows furrowing. “Most people are boring. Why waste my time?”

“Because, some people are worth it. I forced you to be my friend, and look at us now!”

“You’re not an idiot,” the corner of Levi’s lips lifted.

“I think that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Erwin chuckled, tone sarcastic. It was true though, Levi would’ve never allowed Erwin to try and befriend him all those years ago if he had been a total lost cause. Erwin was smart though, driven and ambitious. He worked hard and never slacked off, traits Levi deeply admired. “C’mon, what’s the harm in having a bit of fun?”

There was a lot of harm, turns out. Levi was caught completely off guard by how nice this club was, bouncers all over the pristine premise. He visibly relaxed at this point, his inner germaphobe sated. Though he did use hand sanitizer generously before sitting down on the plush chair in front of the stage, Erwin chatting in his ear over how beautiful the dancers were here. Levi half listened, more interested in his glass of whiskey than his best friend. He downed it easily, almost like he was drinking water. Then the lights dropped, and you had walked out.

With all his might, Levi tried to act like he wasn’t enticed, not wanting to bring Erwin any satisfaction. It was true, Levi’s love life was basically nonexistent. Only having sex with maybe three girls in his lifetime, it had been awhile to say the least since he had seen a beautiful woman in this state of undress. When you had leaned down, breasts pressing so sinfully against the stage, crawling towards him all on fours, a primal urge rippled through Levi’s body. Like you were daring him to act out, to cave in entirely to your will.

He felt a piece of himself missing when you exited the stage, but the room felt lighter, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Erwin was in a similar frame of mind, shooting Levi a knowing look.

“Well, what’d you think?” Erwin leaned towards his friend, a small smile on his face.

“I think that’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” Levi groaned, uncomfortable admitting this, rubbing his hands across his face.

“You should pay her for a dance, I know I’m definitely going to get one later,” Erwin’s eyes followed a thick dark skinned woman, swaying her hips, winking at Erwin as she walked past. He pushed up off his chair then, “Actually, hold that thought.”

The absence of his friend so suddenly had left Levi feeling awkward and out of place. His lips held an amused scowl as he watched Erwin confidently approach the woman, her luscious lips twisting into a smile of her own as she grabbed his hand, and led him away from Levi’s view. The ravenette stood then, empty glass in tow, and decided that he would need another drink to get through the rest of the night.

That’s when Levi had seen you, leaning so casually against the marble countertops of the bar as if you had owned the place. Your eyes drooping in disinterest, too cool to associate with the crowd around you. You didn’t even seem to notice various men eyeing your form, talking amongst each other, never breaking their focus from you. And Levi had to admit, you did look so fucking cool. The realization that Levi himself had joined the crowd of your many onlookers startled him, beginning to feel embarrassment and guilt for admiring you almost as if you were an object. When your eyes had met his though, and a pretty smile changed your entire expression, any and all thoughts and feelings rocketed out of Levi’s mind.

He felt his feet move towards you before he could think thoroughly. You stayed, still and collected, eyes never breaking from his. As his strides graced closer and closer, Levi broke the connection from you, stopping to your side and calling out an order to a blonde bartender, ignoring you entirely.

Your shock rang through you like a gong, deep and humbling. This wasn’t what you had predicted in those fleeting seconds when you had seen the raven haired man making intentful strides to you. He was close enough to your body that you could hear the soft cotton of his white button up brush against the thick fabric of your leather jacket, and you felt licks of insecurity, a rare emotion for you.

“What? Shocked I’m not down on my knees begging for you?” Levi couldn’t stop the words from leaving his lips, noticing from the corner of his eye that you had stiffened dramatically.

You whipped your head to see him, to see his stupid expression as you were sure this man thought he was God’s gift to mankind. You knew this personality well, a common one with your clients believing that because you were after their money, you were technically working for them. To your surprise, you were met with the man’s steel grey eyes hard set in disinterest.

“No one’s going to give you a dance with that attitude, sir,” you huffed, clawing mentally to keep your cool. “Keep it up and watch how fast we get you kicked out.”

This man, a complete stranger to you, only ‘tsk’ed, digging in his black slacks to pull out his thick wallet, “I’ll pay you a grand if you take me back for a dance right now.”

Oh shit, you blinked, trying to process his offer. That’s a lot of fucking money.

“You have a funny way of showing that you like me,” you quirked an eyebrow, debating internally. “What’s the catch? What’s your thing?”

“My thing?”

“Your kink, your game, what’re playing at?”

“I’m not going to pay you to stand there and talk to me about what I like in privacy,” Levi scoffed, slightly embarrassed at the very public conversation that he believed was always meant to be in private.

“Fine,” your hand shot out, circling around his bicep, his strong bicep. “Let’s go, sir.”

Honestly the pet name was a shot in the dark, your best guess at what could possibly please this very attractive client. His moody attitude was throwing you off of your very whimsical and flirty facade, parts of your real personality peeking through the cracks. You didn’t know that Levi was actually enjoying this interaction, feeling flutters of admiration at your sharp tongue and quick mindedness.

You guided him to the back of the club, a bouncer stationed outside of a hallway. You nodded to the burly man, and he stepped aside and allowed the two of you to enter the hallway of doors. Numbers gold plated on each wooden door led the way, and Levi was starting to feel flickers of impatience.

The feelings settle once you unlock a door, pushing it open and Levi gazing inside. A plush leather couch sat in the center of the small room, LED lights flashing different colors slowly along the ceiling, and you guided him to sit down. His face was passive, and had you known the man’s thoughts in that moment, you’d know that Levi was unbelievably nervous. While he had the help of the liquid courage provided by his whiskey neats, Levi was incredibly inexperienced when it came to beautiful women, more specifically, you.

“What’s your name, love?” you cooed, hand trailing over his bicep as you placed yourself next to the ravenette, taking in his stiffened form.

“Levi,” he managed to choke out, feeling the deep stir of arousal from your simple touch. How could he not be attracted to you? The way you pressed yourself to his side, so tempting, you were an enchantress.

You mumbled out your stripper name, and Levi felt a pang of unease knowing that the ridiculous chosen name was not your real one. Your fingers trailed electricity over his clothes, the pads of your digits playing with the end of his sleeve. You leaned further in, breathing right against the shell of his ear.

“Ready for your dance, Levi?”

Levi gulped, raising a hand to push back his fringe from his face as you stood before him. His hands finally settled atop his thighs, legs comfortably opened and spread as he took a deep breath in, willing his mind and body to relax. Like Erwin had said, what’s the harm in having a little fun?

Goosebumps raised on Levi’s skin as the smooth bass of a somewhat familiar song kicked in. He had heard it on the radio once or twice, finding it quite catchy and therefore had never felt the need to change the station. His heart hammered in his ribcage, mouth drying as he watched you shift into character. A very fitting one, he thought to himself, a total and complete vixen.

Your back arched as you posed before him. His eyes drinking you in hungrily lit a flame deep within the depths of your soul, feeling the dire need to please the man in front of you. You bent down, tips of your fingers brushing against your toes, and then you threw your head back, hair falling seductively around you at the force. Levi was cursing profanities in his mind, a very verbal ‘fuck’ exiting his lips at the sight.

You turned your back to your handsome client, giving him a full view of your scantily clad ass as you teasingly slid your arms out of your jacket. Levi’s eyes followed every move, afraid to miss a single thing, every detail of you and your body becoming his biggest priority. Your leather jacket fell to the floor noisily, chains clanking as they hit the wooden planks. You threw a longing gaze over your shoulder, a pretty smirk on your face, and Levi had the startling realization that he had never felt a stronger attraction to a woman in his life. In fact, the intrusive thought had his mind traversing through past experiences, and had him wondering if had truly ever felt the tingling of arousal that you had awakened in him.

“Levi?” you brought your fingers under his chin to his surprise, angling his gaze to meet your curious expression.

“I’m alright, just,” Levi paused, letting his focus drift away from you. “This is my first time.”

Your face softened at his confession, genuine concern as you spoke, “‘S okay, just let me know if you want to stop at any point. And if there’s anything at all you want me to do, tell me.”

Levi was mildly stumped at the second half of your response. He could make requests of you, of this dance? The last thing he wanted in the world was for you to stop, in fact he never wanted this moment to end as you resumed your routine, eyes never leaving his.

Levi felt the blood rush to his lower half as you positioned yourself on the balls of your feet, leaning over his seated deposition, ghosting your lips over the shell of his ear, “You know, you’re quite handsome. You probably get that all the time, but truly, you are.”

“Thank you,” Levi managed to mumble, thoroughly embarrassed by the heat of your compliment. “You’re very pretty.”

You smirked, pushing yourself back to take in his shy appearance. You had a hunch that maybe if you provided Levi the confidence he needed, this hesitance would melt away. With that in mind, you turned your body once more, hands reaching behind you to undo the clasp of your lacy bra. Levi’s eyes widened, his fingers twitching in anticipation. When the material was released, you let out a silent sigh of relief from the pressure of the tight material. Your mesh top fell off your arms, you gently flicked it to join your jacket on the floor. Instead of showing your freed breasts to your handsome client, you bent down to your toes once more, shaking your ass and thighs. Levi’s eyes were ready to roll out of his skull.

You finally did turn, crouching between the space in between his thighs. Your hands slid from the bottom of his shins to the top of his thick thighs, you felt the subtle flex of his muscles as he tensed. His lustful expression showed you that Levi was less than hesitant, actually he was really enjoying himself now. This was his private show, and Levi was feeling extraordinarily special. He didn’t dare to raise his touch to grace your exposed skin though, not wanting to risk breaking any rules.

Your knees heaved you up once more, and you moved to straddle the raven haired man’s lap. You felt the hump of his erection between your thighs, and you bit back a moan at the sensation. Levi was in a similar frame of mind, trying not to let his bodily instincts and desires take over entirely. You rolled your hips, teasing his clothed length, and his grasp on control was nearly lost. Your naked breasts pressed against his chest, nipples hardened from your excitement. By no means were you the kind of girl to sleep with your clients or even entertain the thought, but when Levi’s lids fluttered and he bit the inside of his lip, you were rethinking every morally right ideal you held within yourself.

On par with the beat of the song, you leaned back, hands on his knees, and thrust your hips lazily in rhythm. Levi watched your ribcage expand and disappear under your naked torso, your navel shrinking and opening at the rolling motion. You flicked your hair behind your shoulder blades, your lips parted, and you let out a shaky breath. You were flushed against his hardened member, you could feel your center weeping at the contact. This was not your intention, to rub yourself all over this stranger, but the way his hands twitched and his eyes were so hungry had you feeling things you only indulged in by yourself, in the comfort of your bed and with your favorite pink vibrator.

“Make it fifteen hundred, and I’ll let you take me back to your place,” you mewled against your better judgement.

Levi’s concentration was broken, the whites of his eyes exposed as he shot his attention to your face. His lips contorted into an egotistical smirk, a contrast to his past shyness, “We haven’t even been in this room for five minutes, and you’re already wanting to leave?”

“Two grand,” your eyebrows furrowed, pushing your hips into his pelvis, satisfied when you heard a hiss leave his lips. “Keep teasing, and my price goes higher.”

“I’ll pay you whatever I want,” Levi’s features darkened. “Get your things. I want you to finish your dance when we get back to my house.”

You never did complete that dance. Levi was gripping your thighs and lifting you before you could even protest, your back slamming into the wall after he had unlocked his front door. His lips were all over you, your lips, your neck, your exposed collarbones. Your fingers were woven into his scalp, clinging desperately to the man.

He could barely contain himself on the drive home, seated palming your thighs in the back seat of a taxi. He had sent a quick text to Erwin, not explaining much but letting him know he’d talk to him tomorrow. Erwin hadn’t responded, not that Levi cared, but he had a feeling his blonde friend was in a very similar situation.

“You,” Levi growled into your neck, sliding his hands greedily under the t-shirt you had thrown on in the locker room of the club, “Are the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”

His teeth sunk where he could feel your pulse the strongest under his lips, and you wantonly moaned out. Although Levi lived a generically organized lifestyle, in this moment all he craved was chaos. He wanted to see your perfect body littered in his marks, his bites and bruises. He wanted to wreck you, bring you out of your nonchalant attitude, stupefying you. Levi was going to fucking break you in all the best ways.

“Levi,” you breathed shakily. “Please, bedroom.”

Levi rammed his clothed hips into the center of your spread legs, your ankles hooked around his waist in this position. You gasped, moaning at the contact. Your nails raked up his back, and you felt a similar urgency as he was feeling, wanting to feel the tear of his skin underneath your fingernails. You felt Levi’s hands grip your thighs to adjust his grip, and soon he was carrying you into the unfamiliar territory of his home. He guided you easily up his staircase, reaching his opened bedroom door and unceremoniously throwing you on your back on his mattress.

Levi was on top of you in an instant, his lips swallowing yours as he grabbed the collar of your shirt with both his hands. He fisted the material, and with a quick fluid motion, he tore the fabric in half. You were shocked, but figured you could easily borrow Levi’s clothing upon your exit. You didn’t stop him as he treated your bra in a similar fashion, thankfully not ripping the expensive lace. He reached under the arch of your back, unclasping it, and you pulled your arms through the straps and the remnants of your poor shirt. Your breasts were on full display for his eyes now, and Levi’s mouth pulled away from you. His hands snaked up your exposed torso, thumbs rolling past your hardened nipples to your neck.

Levi wrapped his right hand around your neck, and your breath hitched in your throat as he mumbled, “You like it rough, don’t you, brat? Want me to use your body however I want?”

You didn’t answer, wanting to seek punishment. His fingers tightened, and you felt a gush of arousal slicken your lower lips. Your hips bucked upwards, eyes pleading as you watched a sick satisfaction cross his expression.

“Answer me,” he spat venomously, leaning in to brush his nose against yours.

“Yes, sir,” you stuttered out, feeling the tips of your ears redden. You were so turned on right now, body responding loudly to every word and touch.

“Good girl,” he praised, not releasing his grip around your neck. His left hand stayed at your breast, tweaking your right nipple roughly, rolling the beaded skin between his forefinger and thumb.

You whimpered, bringing your own hands to rest above your head, stretching your skin more for Levi. His eyes were honed in on your face, all your desperate expressions as his hand left your chest and dipped under the elastic of your grey cotton shorts to meet the lace trim of your panties. His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot against your lips as you panted. When you tried to reach up to capture his soft lips in a kiss, he only squeezed tighter around your neck, discouraging you from trying again. He wanted to watch you squirm, memorize the way your eyes would flicker and your lips would quiver at his touch. His fingers tugged the cotton of your panties aside, and ran two digits across your folds, the pads soaked at the contact.

He circled your clit agonizingly slow, spreading your essence over your hood. Your eyes rolled back into your skull, back arching up to feel some kind of skin to skin contact. Levi was not going to allow this though, and ripped his touch away from your cunt. You whined at the loss, tears pricking on the edge of your lash line. You yelped suddenly when you felt the harsh slap of his palm against your folds. Levi’s gaze was hardened, lips almost pulled back in a sneer.

“Stop, or you’re not getting what you want,” he growled, and even though he was hovering over you, you could swear you felt the vibration from his chest deep in your bones.

You meekly nodded, willing your body to lay there as still as you could be. He smoothed his palm over the reddened area of your center, and his soft, teasing touch returned. His middle and pointer finger spread your lips open, ring and pinky finger kept your panties tucked to the side. Levi tucked his digits inbetween your heat, caressing your folds. It took everything in your resolve to not buck your hips at the feeling of the roll of your clit in between the pads of his fingers. You whined, blinking tears away rapidly.

Levi felt merciful for a moment, and fled his intimate touch down to your fluttering entrance. You could feel your muscles clenching in anticipation, letting out a moan of relief as he dipped the two extremities into your tight hole.

“You’re so wet, all because of me?” Levi teased, brushing his lips against yours. “Such a good slut, you’ve wanted me to touch you since you got on that stage tonight, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” you panted sharply, his fingers curled inside your walls and began to pump. “Wanted your attention so bad.”

“Like I had a choice,” he chuckled without humor, flicking his wrist hard into your core. “You came out looking like that, what was I supposed to do? This, you on your back, so needy, this was the only conclusion.”

He fucked his hand harshly into your sopping cunt at the end of his sentence, sending your mind reeling and your lungs gasping for air. Your plush walls encapsulated his fingers, you could feel the ridges of his knuckles deep inside of you. His finger pads prodded your sensitive spongy spot, and upon hearing your deep groan of pleasure, Levi aimed for that destination with every thrust.

“Feels so good,” you praised, your knuckles white from gripping the pillows above you. Levi still had his right fist around your throat, he could feel your esophagus tighten as every muscle in your body clenched.

With a hasty release, his right hand came down to pay your heaving breasts attention. His lips replaced his fingers, sucking harshly on the most sensitive parts of your throat. You were almost screaming as he plunged in and out of your pussy, your left nipple harshly being pulled with his other hand, his teeth sinking into your neck. Your clit was throbbing with need, your coil in your stomach desperately searching for any form of release.

“Levi,” you cried out loudly. “Wanna’ cum.”

“Are you asking or telling me?” he grumbled against the column on your neck.

“Asking, please, need you to touch my clit,” you begged, too far gone to care about vulgarity, clearing noting the ravenette’s disregard for formality in the heat of the moment.

He let out a ‘tch’ at the nape of your neck, and pulled his fingers from your dripping heat, “You’re not cumming unless it’s around my cock.”

With his soaked hand, he tore your shorts and panties down to your knees in one swift motion. You lifted your legs, allowing Levi to slide them down the rest of the way and throw them onto the floor. Stark naked and exposed completely to the man now, your knees bent in the air, Levi slapped the backs of your thighs. You whimpered, clenching around nothing upon impact. He let out a groan, tugging his button up over his head, not bothering with the buttons. Your hands left the safety of the pillows above your head, fumbling with the belt that rested on his hips. He met your hands, finishing the job for you. Belt unbuckled, slacks unzipped and freed, he stood quickly, shoving the pants and his briefs to the floor.

You jaw slacked in amazement at the sheer size of his cock. Levi was hung, his member standing tall and proud and mouth watering. He returned to you in an instant, positioning his lower half to align with your spread center. His dick throbbed at the wet contact of your vulva, teasing the head against your clit. You threw your head back, arching your back and angling your hips to allow Levi better leverage. His fist flew to the base of his aching length, roughly fucking himself above you. You could feel the tightness of his knuckles as he brushed against you, and you moaned out his name.

“Such a needy little slut,” Levi degraded you, face set in false anger. “Desperate for my cock, huh?”

“Yes, yes!” your eyes screwed shut, you could feel the pounding in your pussy. “Want you so fucking bad. Please fuck me.”

“Please, what?” he cocked an eyebrow, letting out a groan as his thumb pressed into the underside of his head.

“Please, sir,” you begged as a tear fell down your cheek.

“All you had to do was ask, gorgeous,” he chuckled darkly, sinking the tip into your tight little hole.

You thought he would enter you slowly to allow you to adjust to his enormous girth, you were sadly mistaken though as he plunged his entire length deep inside of your soaking pussy. You let out a strangled whimper, more tears rolling down to your chin. Levi wouldn’t give you the pleasure of patience, pulling out just enough to threaten his head falling out, snapping his hips right back until he brushed your cervix.

“Fuck,” Levi moaned loudly, his hands circling the tops of your thighs, throwing your ankles over his shoulders. “Feels so fucking good.”

All you could do was fist the bedsheets under you as he took you violently. Sobs of pleasure racked through your chest, tits bouncing at the sheer force of his thunderous thrusts. The sounds of your cunt squelching around his intrusion was deafening accompanied by the smack of the skin of his balls hitting your ass. Levi pounded mercilessly into your heat, searching for his own heights before addressing yours. Of course he wouldn’t cum before you did, but the way your pussy fluttered around him gave him clear signs that it wouldn’t take much to push you over the edge.

Levi let out an animalistic growl as his pace quickened, slapping the meat of your thighs as his grip adjusted your knees to your chest. He leaned forward, and in the dim lighting you could see the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. His steel colored eyes were locked in with yours, lips parted as he breathed heavily from exertion. Levi could feel the burn in his hips as he gave you everything he could, fucking you as hard and as fast as he could.

You were nearly screaming, unable to bite back any noises at his assault. You felt his fingers slither around your neck once more, tightening dangerously around your windpipe. He could feel the collection of your tears in the dip of your throat, and his cock was throbbing at the sensation.

“Crying ‘cause it feels so good, aren’t you?” Levi snarled, placing his sweaty forehead to yours. When you didn’t answer, he released your throat to bring his wet palm in a roaring slap to your cheek, “Answer me.”

“Yes!” you screamed at the tops of your lungs, your cunt contracting at the stinging pain turned pleasure. “Please, please, please, let me cum!”

Levi barked out a groan as he felt your plush walls tighten, making his hips stutter in his rhythm. His free hand came down to your clit, slapping the top of your pussy with no real force. His thumb commenced its own pattern then, rubbing the engorged bud with vigorous intention. Levi plowed briskly, his climax on the horizon. You were quivering under him, fat tears leaking from your eyes as hiccups and whines left your throat. You could feel the soreness in your hole, and knew the second you came, you’d be squeezing the ever loving fuck out of Levi’s massive cock.

“So close,” you sniffled, vocals raw from the pressure of Levi’s fist clenched around your esophagus.

“Gonna’ cum all over me, pretty girl? Yeah, fuck, c’mon, my little fucking slut,” Levi’s eyes were smoldering, veins prominent in his neck as he approached his own release.

“Fuck fuck fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” your eyes attempted to close.

Levi slapped your cheek, “Keep your fucking eyes open, bitch. Don’t look away, wanna’ watch you.”

You nodded meekly, the build up in your stomach at its peak. His thumb circled faster, and you could feel every single motion in your pussy as he slammed his fat tip against your g-spot. It was too much, too intense, and you felt your coil snap as you clenched viciously around him.

With a loud gasp of air, not enough due to Levi’s fingers digging into your throat, you couldn’t stop yourself from bucking your hips. Your vision blurred over in thick tears, your skin was burning hot as Levi cursed above you. Your pussy contracted around him in a mind blowing flow, pleasure seeping in every pore and every cell in your body. If Levi had neighbors, or roommates, the noises you were making would be entirely concerning, sounding as if something gruesome was occurring in his home.

Levi was pushed out of your cunt from the pressure, and he dared not to slip back in your contracting hole out of fear of dumping his seed deep in your womb. He pushed your legs flat down after removing his touch from your clit, positioning his hips over yours as he fucked his fist at the same rapid pace he was drilling into your center. Loud moans escaped his parted lips, pistoning his pelvis with a death grip on his red swollen cock. Thick ropes of cum shot across your breasts, his thrusts never slowing.

You pushed your breasts together with your hands, fingers toying at your nipples to visually stimulate the man above you. He growled at the sight, “So fucking hot, yeah, take my fucking cum.”

He stilled, head thrown back as he let his girth fall from his grip, his cum oozing from his slit. You moaned at the sight, your mouth watering. Had you not been in such a hurry from the start, you would’ve gladly swallowed his cock down your throat, consuming every drop of his load. Maybe another time, if there would be one, you thought.

Your orgasms simultaneously slowed, until the two of you heaved heavily from the hard labor of the vigours fucking that had just occured. Levi moved off of you, grabbing tissues from his bedside table, and wiped up your torso. Before he could collect all of his cum though, you let a finger dip into a puddle in between your breasts, Levi’s eyes watching adamantly as you placed the digit on your tongue, rolling your eyes back into your head at the taste.

“You’re so needy,” he teased, a smirk crossing his exhausted face.

“Maybe,” you giggled breathlessly. “Maybe I just wanted a taste.”

Levi hummed, pushing back his dampened bangs from his forehead. He gazed at you in curiosity as you pushed your aching body off the bed, wincing at the indistinct soreness between your thighs, “I have clothes you can wear, don’t worry about giving them back either.”

Ah, so here came the awkward after the one night stand conversation. You smiled politely then, “I wasn’t worried. ‘Was gonna’ steal them one way or another.”

“Lucky I didn’t catch you then,” he mused, pushing himself off the mattress as well. “You’re welcome to take a shower, if you need to. I’m about to get in myself.”

“Nah, I should probably get home, it’s late,” you searched for your phone on the floor, finding it in your jacket pocket as you tapped on the Uber app.

“I can drop off the money tomorrow at the club, if you’re working,” Levi leaned against his bedroom wall, biting his lip as his demeanor changed back to his previous one from earlier.

You smirked, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “Baby, believe me, you couldn’t pay me to have sex like that. I wanted to fuck you, the money was just a fun little fantasy.”

Levi felt his ego inflate at your confession, his own lazy smirk rolling off his lips, “Let me pay for your Uber at least.”

And so he did, walking you out to the car when it arrived. You were swallowed whole by his comfortable clothing, and he placed a sweet kiss to your lips before you ducked your head into the vehicle, closing the door behind you. The car drove off swiftly, and Levi dug his hands in his pockets, walking back inside the comfort of his home to take that much needed shower.

The usual neon lights greeted you as you spun around the pole the next evening, less customers this time. You were feeling the undeniable soreness of your throat and center as you twirled around. Thankful for full coverage foundation to hide the bruises and marks littered across your entire body, no one had questioned why you were walking with such a limp. Well, aside from your favorite security guard.

“You’re off your game tonight,” Connie noted as you placed your sore body onto the bar stool. “Any reason why you can’t sit fully down without wincing?”

You flicked a unamused glance his way, “Any reason why you’re being so fucking nosy?”

“Just wondering why that guy left with last night has been following you around the club all night is all,” Connie took a swig from his beer mug, eyes batting to point behind you. “Hm, yes, very strange.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your head in the direction of his gaze. Your breath caught in your throat as Levi strided cooly over to you, a small smirk on his handsome face. He ordered a whiskey neat over the counter next to you, and cleared his throat as he finally looked into your eyes.

“Thought I’d actually get to catch your dance this time,” Levi greeted. “Y’know, since I missed it last night.”

You heard Connie snort obnoxiously, and your eyes threw daggers in warning. Connie threw his hands up to mock surrender, taking his drink and walking away. You returned your attention to the ravenette beside you, “Just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

“Just couldn’t get you off my mind,” his eyes trailed to the pout of your lips. “When does your shift end?”

“In a few hours, why?”

“I wanna’ see what kind of place a girl like you can afford,” he smirked. “Maybe get a private dance this time.”

“You do pay pretty well,” you flirted, trailing your fingers up to the collar of the fashionable black sweater. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll make it worth the pain,” Levi breathed out cockily, swiping his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip. “Wouldn’t want to get out of here now, would’ya?”

“I guess I could for the right price,” you parted your lips, lightly biting down on the tip of his digit.

Levi didn’t respond, instead he grabbed your wrists and led you impatiently out the door. You’d text Connie later and have him hold your tips until your next shift. You had a very important client to dance for.

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.

[x-reader-theater]

Inspired by the @katytheinspiredworkaholic Noir AU mood board, Spencer dating Hotches or Alvezes younger brother in around 20's-40's era when it was still illegal. Hotch or Alvez (who ever you choose) would be some sort of important name in the city so obviously the reader would be too, being from a wealthy family. So it is especially hard for the reader and Spencer to sneak around kissing and stuff when everyone has their eyes on the reader. But one day the reader realises that fuck the others, he is wealthy and so known that no-one dared to mess with him anyway so reader and Spencer would publicly announce their relation ship.

(sorry if its too long of a request)

This got away from me a bit, I'm so sorry. I also made a moodboard because I was so inspired. This was soooooo much fun to write. I love me a good noir AU loll. Edited by @mystic-writes

Moodboard by Me

You laugh lightly as Spencer pushes you into the wall right outside of your bedroom, kissing down your neck and sucking right below your collarbone. You chose to have your top three buttons undone tonight, just for this very purpose. You wanted to entice, without making it known that it was your intention. You got a few ladies coming over to try and talk to you, much to your brother's delight, but you rebuffed every single one of them. They weren't who your heart was truly with.

You moan as you grind your hips against Spencer's and pant out, "We- uh- we should get inside. Before someone sees us."

"Let them," Spencer says, kissing your neck more. "Let them see us. I don't care."

You push Spencer away, holding him at arm's length, before saying, "I do. I care. Do you know what my brother would do if he found out who I shared my bed with?"

You look away from Spencer, who sighs. "Maybe I should go-"

"No, wait," you say, grabbing his wrist. "Please don't. Just, hold me tonight?"

Spencer smiles and kisses you.

–

"Hey! Little brother! Come to watch the show?" your older brother Luke asks you from his usual seat. He's the only one in the club, but that makes sense since the sun hasn't even set yet. You walk over and sit down next to him, and he leans over, whispering, "Isn't she a vision?"

he points to the obviously very beautiful woman on stage, with dark skin and black hair curled beautifully on her head. She's wearing a white rhinestoned dress with spaghetti straps and you think you see her pearly white heels underneath . She looks stunning.

"She's not my type," you say, leaning back and listening to her sing.

Luke hits your arm. "No one is! I swear, if Ma and Pa hadn't raised me to be such a gentleman, I would be kickin' the snot out of you to find out."

You snort when he says he's a gentleman, but cross your arms and ignore it. "I do have a type. You just don't know what it is," you snort, and look over at your brother, who's frowning at you. "You're not her type either." You nod to the woman on stage.

"What do you mean? I'm everybody's type!" Luke exclaims and the woman glares at you.

You snort. "She keeps looking over at Penelope at the bar, making sure she's watching. She's singing a love song, but the only person in the entire place that it's for is your bartender."

Luke's eyes go wide, and you smile and slap him on the shoulder, while the woman finishes her song. You give Penelope a wink as you exit.

–

That night, you walk into the club. No one's singing at the moment, but you met the woman, Tara, back behind the stage in one of the back rooms that had been converted into a dressing room for her. She's going to go on stage later, and you paid her something extra to make the first song a love song.

You were good for it after all.

You haven't been keeping up with the family as much as you used to, but you notice your brother doing deals every now and again, and you have to step in to save him from getting his ass beat.

You take a deep breath and walk into the crowded club, the low jazz coming from the band on stage. You walk over to the bar and order a gin from Emily, who smiles at you and takes it from your fingers before you can grab it. She points at one of the tables where you see Spencer, sitting with a woman, ignoring her flirting. You sigh and thank Emily, before going to the table with your drink, and sitting down on Spencer's other side.

"[Y/N]!" he exclaims, a grateful look in his eyes.

"Spencer! Good to see you," you say, clasping a hand onto his shoulder. You squeeze it and he smiles at you. "Who's your friend here?" You ask, gesturing to her, but you don't stop touching him.

"Uh, this is… uh…" he starts to say, but the woman frowns at him when he doesn't say it.

"I'm Lila. Lila Archer," she says. While you're in Chicago, most folks around here don't have any sort of accent. She however has a southern lilt to her words. She's blonde haired and blue eyed, and she looks incredibly uncomfortable in here, surrounded by both black and white folks. There was also the occasional Hispanic person in here, like your brother, but they are few and far between.

Your brother owns one of the only mixed race clubs in town, only because he was adopted into the family as a young boy. He has the money as a non-white to own and run a business. Helps that his "family" is a majority white as well.

Your grandfather was sent to Chicago from New York to make sure the city knew the Italians still ran the place. But, he likes to pick up a lot of strays.

Doctor Spencer Reid being one of them. No one quite knows what he's a doctor of, but he seems to be a doctor of everything. Medicine, the arts, mathematics, you name it, he probably knows it. It's one of the many reasons you fell in love with him.

"Miss Archer. I've never seen you in here before. Is this your first time visiting my brother's club?" You ask.

She nods stiffly. "That's right. My father wants to buy this place, but he can't seem to put in an offer big enough. Says he wants to rid the city of it's filth and reclaim it for the whites once again."

"Well, Miss Archer, as you can see, there are plenty of whites here tonight," you say, gesturing to the people seated at tables and getting drinks from the bar. "And I'm really hoping you don't share the same… convictions as he does, because otherwise, I might just have to get one of my people to throw you out of here."

You make eye contact with Morgan who's sitting at a nearby table and he nods at you, acknowledging what you want.

"I-" she begins to say, before she deflates. "I wanted to see what was so bad, all the voodoo and evil devil worshiping he says he's seen you folks doin'. But, y'all just seem like good honest people."

You smile at her and stand up. "I'm glad to hear it, Miss Archer. I think you'll find we're a lot more human than everyone makes us out to be." She smiles at you and you turn to Spencer, holding out your hand. "Now, my good doctor, would you do me the pleasure of joining me for a dance? Miss Lewis is about to start her singing, and I heard it's going to be *beautiful*."

Spencer grins and takes your hand. You drag him to the dance floor, where there's already a group of people dancing together, swinging them around their bodies, moving and shaking and laughing.

The music gradually changes, and while it does get slower and softer, it is by no means a slow dancing tune.

You start shaking your hips and kicking your legs and Spencer does the same. He spins you around, almost forcing you to go out and in, and it's perfect. The melody is beautifully sung by Tara, and you smile as your back is pulled to Spencer's chest. He loops his arms around you, and you look up at him, smiling.

He's looking at you with a quizzical look, as if saying, "You sure you want to do this?"

Instead of answering, you kiss him. He opens his mouth and you slide your tongue into his mouth, capturing his mouth in a wet and heated kiss. When you pull away, he has the happiest smile on his face.

You look over at your brother, who has the angriest look on his face, and you raise an eyebrow, silently saying, "Just try to stop me."

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Make A Scene

AMHL – Masterlist

Dick immediately noticed when Y/N started getting quieter and quieter as they got closer and closer to the venue.

Bruce had hired a driver to pick them up from their apartment in Gotham. And the car had gone quiet now. 

Dick reached over to gently hold her hand.

“Nervous?” He asked.

Y/N shrugged, not really seeing the point in trying to lie to her boyfriend.

“This isn’t your first rodeo, ya know.”

She gave him a look. “You know that wasn’t the same.” Her eyes flickered to the driver. “I wasn’t exactly…myself. And I wasn’t your girlfriend.”

Also, tonight they didn’t have the security and comfort of being at Wayne Manor.

No, instead this particular event was being held at the ballroom of Gotham’s most extravagant five-star hotel. It was a party for Wayne Enterprises, not a personal charity or party of the Wayne family.

Bruce had kindly asked Dick and Y/N to attend when board members and business partners started asking if the whole family would be attending. Jason hadn’t answered anyone’s calls or texts about it. None of them expected him to show up. Tim had to attend since he worked for Wayne Enterprises. And Damian…Well, Damian was his father’s son and not yet an adult. He basically had to do whatever Bruce asked of him while he lived under his roof.

“I’m not gonna leave your side,” Dick promised.

He squeezed her hand to further emphasize it.

Their car pulled up to the carpet at the bottom of the stairs.

There had to be a hundred journalists and photographers, along with random civilians who had nothing better to do than to see Gotham’s elite get out of cars and walk into a hotel.

Dick took in a deep breath.

Thankfully the car’s windows were tinted and protected them from any onlookers.

“Ready?” He asked her.

She nodded.

Dick opened the door and ignored the screams and flashes as he carefully helped Y/N out of the car with his offered hand. He also shielded her from the photographers to give her a moment to get out and adjust herself before they could capture any photos of her.

“Mr. Grayson! Mr. Grayson! Who is your mystery girlfriend?” Someone yelled.

Sometimes Y/N forgot that Dick was somewhat of a celebrity in Gotham City through association.

It wasn’t like people were asking for selfies everywhere he went. Or that the paparazzi were following his every move.

But in Gotham, people took note of where Dick Grayson went and who he was with.

And everyone noticed he’d had the same woman on his arm for quite some time now.

Even though Y/N and Dick had been dating for over a year, the media still couldn’t figure out Y/N’s identity. 

What they didn’t realize was that she controlled every single piece of information about herself that lived on the internet.

They didn’t stand a chance. 

Dick smiled and waved at people who called his name. But his hand other hand never left Y/N’s as he helped her up the stairs.

“Who are you wearing?” A female journalist yelled at Y/N.

She ignored them and focused on getting up the stairs without tripping and face planting. Not that Dick would ever let that happen.

However, she knew her outfit was going to draw gazes.

Y/N had made a promise to herself that if she was going to be forced to attend events like this with Dick, then she was going make a statement. People were already going to be staring at her, so she figured she might as well give them something good to stare at.

Instead of wearing a typical cocktail and formal dress, Y/N wore a full men’s suit that was tailored to perfection, but with the bowtie undone. It was what the fashion magazines would describe as “androgynous” in the press tomorrow morning.

Y/N wanted to control her own narrative. And she’d rather be judged for her bold decisions than just her trying to blend in.

Bruce insisted on paying for all the boys’ date’s dresses – in this case, suit – if they happened to bring one. He always thought it was more of an incentive for them to attend these terrible events if he encouraged them to bring significant others. And the press always had a field day with it, which only helped throw people of their trail when it came to their secret lives as vigilantes.

Everyone kept screaming Dick’s name as they walked in, and Y/N wondered how he got so good at smiling through the chaos and ignoring them.

Once they were inside, Dick felt the tension leave Y/N’s body a bit.

“Alcohol?” He offered with a smirk.

“Yes, please.”

He nodded, knowing it was exactly what she needed.

Quickly, he grabbed two champagne flutes off a passing waiter.

They clinked glasses.

Then he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Thank you for being my date.”

Y/N smiled at his sincerity.

Dick sighed before he threw back the champagne, “The quicker we find Bruce and prove we were here, the sooner we can leave.”

“Try not to sound so excited,” she laughed darkly.

Suddenly felt a small human wrap around her thighs.

Y/N gasped in excitement, “Dami!”

Dick smiled as he looked down at his 10-year-old brother hugging his girlfriend.

“Dick gave me the drawing you made for us. It’s so beautiful. I’m trying to find the perfect frame for it,” she told the boy.

Damian beamed with pride at that.

Suddenly the boy started asking a million questions about Stoker, one of his kittens that he’d given to them to take care of when Bruce gave a limit to how many cats Damian was allowed to have in the manor.

Then, to Dick’s shock, he saw Jason slowly walk over to them with his hands in his pant pockets.

He was not at all dressed nice enough for the event. No suit jacket. No tie. His white button-up shirt wrinkled, messily tucked into his pants, and with two many buttons undone. The sloppiness of it all clearly wasn’t an issue with the women, seeing as all of them were ogling Jason.

“Todd,” Damian greeted coldly, pausing his conversation with Y/N, who whipped around at the name.

“Hey, you,” Y/N smiled as she went to greet him.

Jason gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek and a quick hug.

“I really didn’t think you were coming,” Dick told his brother.

“Well, I wasn’t. But I got a business engagement.”

Y/N and Dick shared a confused look.

“What do you mean?” Dick asked.

“I found my neighbor crying on her fire escape a few nights ago. Apparently… one of the finance bros of Wayne fucking Enterprises was everything but a gentleman to her.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in realization. “J, I already took care of that.”

“I know,” Jason nodded as his eyes scanned the room. He was clearly on a personal mission tonight. “You deleted the evidence. I am teaching him a lesson.”

Dick slowly put together what they were implying.

“Oh, please don’t make a scene, Jason.” Dick begged him.

Because he knew Bruce wouldn’t be dealing with the aftermath; it would be him.

“Don’t worry!” Jason laughed. "I’m gonna take him outside before I beat the shit out of him. No one here will even notice. It’ll be fine,” Jason assured him as he gave Dick a far too heavy slap on the back.

“Just tell Bruce and he’ll get him fired,” Dick tried to convince him to take the less violent route.

“Oh, we already did,” Y/N muttered.

Dick’s gaze shot to his girlfriend.

“He’s getting fired on Monday,” she clarified sheepishly.

“Since when do the two of you work together behind my back?” Dick accused them.

But he wasn’t actually mad about anything – maybe just a little bit bitter.

Jason opened his mouth.

“I swear to God, Jason, if you say ‘club business,’ I will lose it…” Dick warned.

Y/N tried to hide her smile.

“Got him,” Jason growled as he glared at someone on the other side of the room.

As soon as he left them, Dick gave Y/N his full attention.

“Seriously?” He accused.

“I’m sorry! He asked me for a favor and I was happy to do it once I realized what it was,” Y/N defended.

Dick pouted a little. Mostly because he hated being left out.

“Don’t worry, ya big baby. I’m still your ‘guy in the chair’ and no one else’s,” she teased before giving him a kiss, immediately wiping the lipstick off his lips.

“How come Jason gets to beat up people at events like this, but I’m expected to behave like a well-trained dog?” Damian mumbled.

Dick sighed and shook his head.

“Jason likes to think he’s a lone wolf who doesn’t have to play by the rules,” Y/N tried to comfort the boy.

To distract Damian from getting further into how unfair it was, Y/N asked him to show her more of his drawings.

This seemed to please Damian and he pulled his phone out, flipping through photos and showing Y/N his recent sketches.

With Y/N being entertained by his youngest brother, Dick decided to go to the bar and get the two of them a stronger drink and maybe get a kiddie cocktail for Damian. He’d pretend to be patronized and annoyed by it, but Dick knew better.

He patiently waited for the bartender’s attention. 

“So Gotham’s Golden Boy really has returned…” a husky voice uttered beside him at the bar.

Dick glanced over to see a beautiful woman close to his age eyeing him.

It was clear what she wanted. Dick used tactics like this on countless missions.

“So I have,” he answered.

He was polite, but distant.

Women hitting on him at events like this was nothing new. To Gotham, Dick Grayson was a Bruce Wayne 2.0 – younger, just as charming and handsome as his mentor and stand-in father figure. 

Dick knew how to play the game. But he never had any interest in casual relationships like Bruce did.

“Back for good?” The woman persisted.

“My girlfriend and I are just in town for a few weeks,” he answered before ordering his drinks with the bartender finally.

“Oh, brought up the girlfriend rather quickly,” she laughed.

Dick quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just…my friends and I had a bet going.”

Then she pointed to a group of three young women, who were giggling and smiling, not even trying to pretend like they weren’t watching them closely.

“Oh, yeah?” Dick asked, already tired of this conversation.

--

Jason had already rejoined Y/N and Damian.

Y/N looked down to see his knuckles red with irritation and bruised.

“Please tell me there’s not a corpse in the alley behind this hotel now…” Y/N sighed.

“No,” Jason answered coldly. “Though there fucking should be.”

“What did he do?” Damian asked curiously, clearly he hadn’t been listening to their earlier conversation that closely.

Y/N shifted her weight in discomfort, not sure how to handle the subject with the boy. Yes, Damian was far more mature than many grown men, but he was still just a kid. There were some things Y/N felt like they should at least try to protect him from still. 

“He got my neighbor too drunk to consent, filmed them having sex without her knowing it, and then showed it to a bunch of people at their work,” Jason answered bluntly.

Damian’s brow furrowed, clearly thinking long and hard about what his brother just told him.

After a moment, the boy perked up, “I know where we could hide the body so even father won’t find out.”

“Damian!” Y/N scolded.

But Jason was beaming.

Y/N looked around for Dick, hoping to find another sane person to stop the two boys from actually murdering anyone tonight.

But when she finally spotted him, she saw a woman standing far too close to Dick and pointing to a group of girls who flirtatiously waved and winked at both of them.

“Real cute,” Y/N muttered to herself.

“Vultures,” Damian growled as he followed her gaze.

“Jason, if I leave you alone with Damian, are you going to kill someone?” She asked without taking her eyes off her boyfriend.

“I don’t need to be watched,” Damian groaned.

“No, I need you to watch Jason to make sure he doesn’t change his mind about keeping that asshole alive.”

“Fine,” Damian whined.

Without any further confirmation, Y/N left them. 

She walked across the party on a mission, never taking her stare off of her boyfriend.

Dick did a double take when he noticed her heading towards him.

“Hey,” he greeted innocently.

Because he was innocent. All he’d done was be polite to a bunch of women who were after him for his name…and maybe his good looks.

“I was wondering where my drink was,” Y/N said with a surprising calmness and smile.

Then she turned to the woman. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N. You must be a friend of Dick’s.” 

She held her hand out.

No cattiness. No rudeness.

Y/N said it with the same kindness that drunk women having with other drunk women in bar bathrooms.

“Oh…I’m Irina,” the woman stuttered as she took Y/N’s offered hand, clearly confused by Y/N’s niceness.

Dick held out her drink.

Y/N took it, quickly clinked her glass with both Dick and Irina.

“Cheers,” she sang before tossing it back and chugging the drink that was meant to be slowly sipped.

Dick didn’t know what game his girlfriend was playing, but he was intrigued.

Once Y/N lightly placed her empty glass back on the bar, she turned to Dick and tilted her head to the side. “Could you show me to the bathrooms? I have no idea where they are.”

“Of course,” Dick answered without knowing where this was going.

“It was nice meeting you, Irina,” Y/N told the woman as she linked her fingers with Dick’s and guided him away.

—

Meanwhile, Jason watched the interaction as if he were watching an award-winning movie. Him and Damian were way too far to hear, but everyone in the bat family could read lips more than fluently.

Then Jason smirked as he watched Y/N drag Dick away.

“Boys,” Bruce greeted as he snuck up on the two of them. “What are we staring at?”

“Oh, you know,” Jason hummed with hilarity, “just watching Y/N assert her dominance.”

“Good for her,” Bruce grinned as he realized what was happening.

He moved his attention to his youngest boy. “Alfred is waiting outside with the car. You’re officially released from your duties.”

“Finally,” Damian groaned.

“Don’t you wanna say bye to Y/N?” Jason asked.

“They’re coming to the manor tomorrow afternoon,” Bruce answered for his son. Then he raised a brow at Jason. “You’re welcome to join us.”

Jason’s only response was a shrug.

Bruce tried to hide his disappointment and nodded before he guided Damian away and walked him outside, where Alfred was waiting.

10 minutes later, Jason saw Dick trailing behind Y/N as she walked back to the main area of the event.

Jason burst out laughing at the spectacle. 

Dick’s hair was an absolute mess. Half of his shirt was untucked. His jacket was draped over his forearm. His lips were swollen and pink. Y/N had left lipstick all over his neck and even a bit on the collar of his shirt.

Yet somehow not a single hair was out of place on Y/N and her makeup was still immaculate. Her outfit was just as sleek and clean as when she’d arrived. The only thing different was the proud smirk on her lips.

Clearly Y/N had just had her way with Dick.

But she wanted to make sure the whole party knew about it.

—

Y/N hadn’t said a word to Dick since she dragged him from that woman.

Her body did all the talking.

One second they were at the bathroom doors, the next Y/N had thrown him against the tiled wall after locking the bathroom door.

She gave no verbal explanation, just started kissing him and undoing his pants.

“Not that I’m complaining. Like, at all,” Dick laughed as they rejoined the party. “But wanna to tell me what that was all about?”

Y/N finally stopped walking and turned to face him with narrowed eyes. “I think you know, Richard.”

Y/N only ever used his full first name to provoke and tease him. And he hated that it worked every single time.

Dick glanced around to see that everyone in their vicinity was eyeing them. Well, they were mostly eyeing him and how it was clear he’d just been fucked in the bathroom.

He stepped close to her and lowered his voice, “Ohhh, I see how it is.” His eyes flickered down to her lips for a split second. “If a guy does that, he’s jealous and possessive. But if a woman does it, it’s sexy…”

Y/N proudly smiled like the cheshire cat. “Exactly.”

Something over his shoulder caught her attention. “Oh, I see Tim. I’m going to go say hi.”

Without hesitation, she brushed past him.

Dick let his head fall, put his hands on his hips, and laughed.

He’d pay her back later tonight. And by ‘pay her back,’ he would just tell her how incredibly hot her behavior had been and basically invite her to do it whenever she damn well pleased.

Dick felt a presence beside him, and he didn’t have to raise his head to know it was Bruce.

“Hey,” Dick greeted him nonchalantly.

“You have lipstick all over your neck,” Bruce told him as he took a sip of his drink and looked around the party. “And your zippers down.”

“Sure is,” Dick sighed.

--------------------------

OK. This was way too fun to write. 

Let me know what you think!!!

ALL BONUS CONTENT CAN BE FOUND: HERE

[palbabor-writes]

OK so please consider typical Shig/reader where theres unspoken mutual attraction and they're not quite together but it's Post-kamino Shig, like IMMEDIATE post-kamino where he's still processing and incredibly vulnerable from just losing his sensei. I've had this in my head for a while but IDK how it would go and I think you'd do it justice (just ignore this if u don't wanna i just needed to put it out there 😌)

ugh, i loved this idea. where do you find them lydia? they just live in your mind rent free and i want to go to there. gosh, thank you for the ask.

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT, NSFW/18+ only, mild angst, pivotal life moments, TW: drinking/drug use, masturbation, blow jobs, face fucking, spanking/mild pain play, vaginal fingering, cunniliginus, overstimulation, switching, dirty talk, loss of virginity (if you squint), dominance, vaginal sex     

Word Count: 11,800

Notes: oh man. so, if the word count didn’t give it away, this is plot, with a hefty dose of porn. in my mind, this is all part of the grieving process for shigaraki and he’s having a rough time coming to terms with what he’s needing to do. yeah, AFO supported him and enabled him to build a following, but he also hid all of the major pieces from him (i.e. the doctor & gigantomachia) so i can see him mourning for AFO as a teacher & as a psudo loved one, after all, at the end of that chapter he’s clutching those hands to him like he’ll fall apart without them. 

Edited by the lovely Lydia: @kugutsuu. she is the best and if you’re not reading her works, all I have to say is: YOU SHOULD BE. 

Mise en Place

/mē-ˌzäⁿ-ˈpläs/ noun or verb  a French culinary phrase which means "putting in place" or "everything in its place.”

This has got to be the strangest, hole in the wall, bar you’ve ever worked at. 

The patrons are touchy and most seem downright dangerous. The whole lot of them are more like mid level criminals than the usual haggard, overworked, regular, citizens you find in local watering holes.  Meanwhile, the gentleman who runs the day to day operations shares more similarities with a will o’ the wisp than a man, and the bar itself is smack dab in one of the seediest parts of town. 

The liquor selection, however, is top of the line. Some of the labels you haven’t seen outside of posh hotels or high class country clubs, and many of the older bottles are rarities. Honestly, there are so many of the high brow bottles that you’re not sure who to ask about the rail selection. There’s no real order to the place and it’s the most free reign you’ve ever been given with your mixology experiments. There’s not even a listing of drinks to go off of. But, if the disgruntled evening crowd is happy, then so is the upper management. All they ask is that you lock up before you leave.

No, nothing about this place makes sense. But, it does pay well and, right now, that’s the only thing you need to worry about.

There’s one other barkeep, a stogy man named Akio. He usually works the day shift, but late yesterday afternoon, he’d given you a call and asked if the two of you could swap for the duration of next week. At first, you’d balked, worried you’d need to schmooze with an unfamiliar bunch of regulars, who’d then decline to tip simply because you were new. But, Akio had sweetened the pot with the promise of $20,000 yen, so, you’d agreed. 

“It’s fairly quiet in the afternoon,” Akio reassured you. “It’s really just putting away shipment and serving the odd customer who happens to pass by. The only thing...well, I’m sure you’ve met him. You’ve been working there for over a month, no way you could miss him.” 

“Who?” you ask, twirling your spoon in your mid-morning coffee, curious, but not wanting to seem overly eager in your questioning. You like your night shift and you’re not wanting this to become a regular swap. You detest having to lug heavy boxes to and fro, pulling liquor and checking lot numbers, ick. Plus, if it really is that slow in the afternoons, it would only be a matter of time before Kurogiri would come after you with a duster and ask you to clean the upper shelves. Yeah, no, thanks. This would be a one week deal, ONLY.

“His name is Shigaraki. He’s, er, different. I suppose you’ll meet him soon, if you haven’t already.”

“Shigaraki? No, that name doesn’t ring a bell. Is he--”

“I have to go, my son is here. Thanks again for the swap and talk soon, (Y/N).”

The line clicks and you let your phone fall from your ear, clattering the metal and plastic along your kitchen table. Shigaraki, you think, taking a scalding sip of your coffee, no, that’s not a name you’ve heard before. Wonder what it is about him that has Akio so on edge. It’s not like him to give you, er, whatever that strange heads-up had been. Either way, it would take more than a vague descriptor like different, to spook you off. 

******

Akio was right, on all counts, about the haze of monotony that permeated the afternoon shift at the bar. 

Well, right on everything except a sighting of that elusive Shigaraki guy. No, the whole afternoon it’s just been you, Kurogiri, and one, rather sloshed old man, who you’ve long since cut off, and propped at the far end of the bartop. It’s been a dull, slow, day. Thank God you’d taken that extra cash from Akio, or this might not even turn out to be worth your while. 

You’re slipping another bottle of whiskey on the lower shelf when you hear a barstool scrape back. You turn at the sound, your head already lifted and a small, friendly, smile lingering on your lips. There’s a lanky guy, dressed all in black with a mop of wavy white hair, working himself onto the small seat. His head is lowered and he hasn’t bothered to look up at you, not yet, anyway. He looks, not really young, but you can’t tell and you’re not about to let some underaged kid worm his way in here. You’ve had enough of those punks sneaking in in the evening, thank you. 

“Gimme a shot of scotch,” the man says, his voice low, with a quiet rasp racing along the tone. It’s a strange timbre and it makes you pause, your eyes scanning those pearlescent strands of hair that are hiding his face from view.

“Hmph,” you snort, arching a brow at his attempts at concealment. He must be underage, who comes up to a barkeep with a ducked head and demands a scotch? 

“Let me give you a piece of advice, don’t come into a bar and immediately refuse to make eye contact with the bartender. We’re like animals at the zoo, we startle easily and don’t like surprises. And, with your face tucked like that, I can’t gauge your age. So, before I get you that unnamed and unbranded scotch, I’m gonna to need to see some ID.”

The man lifts his head at your preamble and you feel your breath catch at the raw annoyance that’s etched across his scarred and cracked face. His eyes are a rich red, closer to ruby and they latch onto yours, insistent and sharp. It’s a deeply intense stare and you can’t seem to pull yourself away, your brow furrowing at his sudden shift in demeanor. 

“I don’t have an ID,” he snaps, his lips lifting into a snarl, showing you the vivid whiteness of his teeth. 

You lick your lips and his gaze follows the motion, eyes lowering, freeing you from that uneasy imprisonment he’d abruptly ensnared you in.

Your heart is beating rapidly against your throat and you shake your head, refocusing your bewildering reaction to this guy's presence. “I-I haven’t heard that one before,” you say, taking a few steadying breaths and tossing a dirty glass in the dishwasher, looking for any task that will let you step away from this strange interaction. 

“You must be new,” he says, leaning back and hunching those dark shoulders. You watch him out of the corner of your eye and shut the dishwasher door, hitting the button to run a cycle. 

“Nope,” you correct him, pulling out two fresh glasses and lining them up on the bartop, reaching for the rail scotch. “I’ve worked here for over a month.”

“Never seen you before.”

“That makes two of us,” you reply, flipping the bottle up and filling both glasses with four counts of the dark liquor. You press one to him and lift the other for yourself. The man narrows his eyes at you and looks pointedly at the glass in your hands. 

“You supposed to drink on the clock?”

You laugh and he shifts back at the sound, his head bowing forward, another scowl lifting his lips. Realizing you must have made him uncomfortable, you step toward him and clumsily clink your glass against his, tilting your head at the surrealness of this whole conversation. “They don’t really care what I do. Come on, stranger who has no ID, bottoms up.”

He looks from you to the shot a few times before finally relenting and taking the vessel in a strange four fingered grip, his middle finger arched carefully away. Once you’re sure he’s actually going to toast with you, you sling your shot back, enjoying the sharp burn of the rich liquor. 

You’re about to ask your new drinking companion another question when you hear his chair scrape back. By the time you’re stepping toward him, he’s already pacing down a back hallway, blending into the darkness and disappearing from your sight.

“Um! You can’t...I don’t think you can go back there. And you gotta pay, dude! Hey--”

“He doesn’t need to pay.” 

You always hear Kurogiri before you see him and today is no exception. He’s standing at the entrance to the back of the bartop and he’s watching the path the strange young man took, his shifting face turned from you. You cock your head at his assertion and swiftly place your empty glass into the soapy water of the filled sink. He likely saw you take the shot, but you’re not about to leave evidence behind. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, watching as the wisp like man turns and steps toward you, his amber slits watchful. It’s like he’s sizing you up and you shift on your feet, uncomfortable at the frank, open, assessment.  

“He’s Tomura Shigaraki, and he owns this bar.”

******     

You’re off for the next two days and the wait, the silence, is abjectly harrowing. You can’t sit down, can’t relax, can’t focus. The one time you decide to get overly familiar, of fucking course, it would be with the owner. But no one has called, and no one has sent you any messages. The empty static of your job's reticence doesn’t alleviate your nerves. 

Who knows, they might want to act out the sick power play of having you show up for your shift, only be fired as soon as you darken the doorway.

The next afternoon, you take a familiar route to the bar, your feet tapping hollowly along the steps and alleyways that wind to the rusty entrance. You come in the front, blinking against the darkness, and lock the door behind you. Everything is quiet. But, in forty minutes, the open sign will switch on and you need to get your bar set up, plus slap on a little bit of makeup. You’re so lost in thought that you’re almost to the long bartop when you spot him.

It’s Tomura Shigaraki. He’s sitting at the same bar stool and his head turns as you approach, those unearthly red eyes lingering over you. It’s a different look, very, very removed from that harsh glare he’d given you the other day. He looks less hostile and more, well, curious. 

You give him a cursory nod and pad behind the high counter, taking the final glasses out of the dishwasher and removing the stoppers from all the open liquor bottles. He’s still watching you and you can feel his gaze as it bores into your back, your side, your front. You attempt to ignore him, but the constant threat of those insistent red eyes is beginning to frustrate you. Finally, once you’ve replaced the cash drawer, you lift your gaze to his. 

“What is it?” Your voice sounds waspish, but you don’t care.

“Nothing,” he replies, leaning forward and propping his chin on his palm, not breaking that unsettling leer. 

“So stop staring at me,” you bristle, unsure why your heart is starting to beat a rapid tattoo against your ribs. You don’t know this guy. Sure, he’s mysterious and almost handsome, in a dark horse kinda way, but there’s no reason for him to give you this odd staredown. You’ve done absolutely nothing to warrant this attention, well, besides drinking on the job, but he could just fire you for that, if it was so troublesome. Either way, he should either speak up, or knock it off. 

He smirks at your impudence and murmurs a raspy, “No,” back, his head tilting, waiting for your next move. 

“You’re a real charmer, you know that?” You scoff, crossing your arms and jutting your chin defiantly. 

“Whatever you say,” he breathes, that smile of his deepening, making his vermillion eyes shine. And, just like that, the two of you wander into a stilted game of give and take. 

For the first few days, he makes sure he’s there before you arrive for the last of your afternoon shifts, his dark back already perched over the bartop as you shut the door behind you. Then, when you transition back to the evening shifts, he’s there too, sitting at that familiar perch, his eyes always, always watching, observing. You continue to ignore him and he seems to relish your agitated silence, flashing you dark smirks and quiet laughs.

Finally, two weeks into this stagnated stalemate, you make a point to strike up a real conversation with him. He’s obviously taken aback by your first few questions, his eyes wide and jaw tense, but he plays along. 

Over time, the two of you carefully erect a haphazard friendship. And that chair of his? That center barstool? He used to not mind if another person was sitting in it when he arrived late, but recently that’s all changed. Now he guards it ferociously. Snapping and glaring at anyone who is stupid enough to drift into it. 

Along with the lingering looks and burgeoning, almost flirty, dialogue you’ve pushed him into, he’s also gotten very demanding of your attention. If you spend too much time talking with another customer, or with Kurogiri, he pouts and darkens until you return, his tense form losing that sharpness.  It's almost like he’s got a crush on you, but he’s not sure what to do with the newfound sensation, lost and confounded by your teases and grins. 

Most people, you notice, give him a wide berth, but not you. No, you like his keen wit and heated musings. He’s fascinating and you want to see more. And in his flustered confusion, he lets you lean in, blinking and wide eyed at your open, flagrant interest in him.

******   

As the weeks drift into summer, things start to change at the bar. 

There’s some atypical deposit of power that’s been bestowed upon the place. People you’ve never seen before, begin to frequent the premises, sharing videos and whispered conversations about that man, Chizome Akaguro, better known to the general public as the Hero Killer. 

Tomura flits between several, dark moods, clutching his newly injured shoulder and murmuring complaints about hero society, All Might and the Hero Killer. Apparently, there had been an altercation between the two of them and Tomura didn’t hide his ire, his agitation from you. No, he would vent to you, his voice gravel and ash as he snarled his rage.  

Then, as if things couldn’t get any stranger, one evening a young girl begins to hang around, pestering you for a soda and prattling on and on about blood. Another new guy slips in a few hours later, his skin marred by thick, ragged burns and staples. He’s quiet, rudely demanding a shot and nursing it in a corner, his bright blue eyes flashing as he stares vacantly out at the crowd by the well. 

A quiet man, called Spinner, asks you for a water, and you acquiesce, watching as his green hands wrap around the glass, downing the liquid in a quick gulp. Later, there’s a robust, loud, clearly confused guy, wearing a skin tight black bodysuit loitering by your bartop. He keeps entreating you for a drink, then tells you to buzz off seconds later. Exasperated, you plunk a whole bottle down beside his glass and continue on with your work, ignoring his chatter. 

Finally, a man in a white mask and a top hat rounds out the strange posse and the group gathers together, hovering around Tomura, asking questions and listening to his rasping answers. 

Thankfully, the rag-tag group leaves soon after closing, all of them shouldering their way back out into the night. You shake your head as the door closes behind them, gathering the collection of dirty glasses they left in their wake. Only Tomura remains, sipping meditatively on his drink, his red eyes foggy and unfocused. You know from experience that it’s not a good time to ask him questions, so you continue with your closing duties, keeping your eyes down.

Something is going on, that much is clear. But, unless you could worm the information out of Tomura, you’d likely never fully know all of the details. Part of you warns that it’s likely dangerous. Many of the people who haunt the bar are low level villains or brokers, not a winning combination if you’re wanting to stay out of the fray, and on the right side of the law. 

You finish wiping everything down and return to Tomura, asking him softly if you can wash his empty glass. His eyes lift to yours and the expression that greets you almost makes you want to reach out and cup his cheek. He looks tired, worn thin and so, so needy. You’ve never seen him like this. It almost feels like he’s showing you something he’s never revealed to anyone else, a vulnerability that only you can see. He’s giving you access to a quiet secret that can hang between the two of you, safe in the knowledge that he can trust you with it. That urge to stroke a finger down his roughed brow rises again, but you shove the impulse away, rattled by your sudden, visceral, reaction to him. 

To distract yourself, you snatch up his glass, and turn from the intensity of his stare, a slow prickle of gooseflesh trembling along your skin. As you run hot water and soap over the vessel, you feel your heart begin to pound and you chance another peek at Tomura’s quiet form. As usual, he’s watching you, but he looks unfocused again, that broken vulnerability tucked away. You want to ask him if he’s ok, but before you can croak the words out, he pushes his stool back and paces down the dark hallway, leaving you alone and bewildered. 

******

A few days later, you ask Kurogiri if you can sneak away for a minute, you need a break. The bar has been packed since nine and you could use a quick breather. It’s the first night Tomura hasn’t stopped by and his absence has bothered you. You missed his grumpy quips and his persistent glances. All this time, you’d thought it was just him that was catching any kind of feelings, but it looks like he’s somehow managed to nag his way into your psyche, too. 

You take the back stairs quietly and let yourself out onto the alleyway balcony, climbing the rickety fire escape to the rooftop. You’d found the access to the roof your second week and it’s still your favorite place in the whole bar. On a clear night, you can see all the way to downtown Tokyo. It’s always quiet this high up, tranquil and serene. You brace yourself against the concrete wall and watch the lights of the city glimmer, like distant jewels, in the darkness.

You pull a small joint from your pant pocket and flick your lighter on, setting the edge of the rolling paper alight and taking a slow drag. The inhale fills your lungs with a light pressure and you savor the feeling before blowing a thin line of smoke into the night. You get a few more hits in before you hear the fire escape stairs rattle, signaling that someone is coming your way. You debate dampening your roach, but you don’t want to waste it, so you tuck the smoldering paper in your other hand, maneuvering it out of sight. 

The white shine of his hair always gives him away. 

Tomura hops over the ledge and his eyes are already lifting, searching for yours as he stands. You arch an eyebrow at his tense stance and you can’t help your giddy smile. “Everything ok?” 

“Kurogiri said you were taking a break,” he replies, dipping his long fingers into his pockets and sauntering over to the patch of concrete you’re braced against. 

“Yeah,” you confirm, waiting until he’s closer to lift the joint back to your lips, taking a steadying pull and scooting over, so he can fit beside you on the wall. “It’s busy, and I’ve been slinging drinks all night. Just wanted to decompress for a bit.”

Tomura doesn’t reply, but he does slot himself close, the warmth of his broad shoulder radiating against yours. The two of you drift into a companionable silence, and the only sounds that greet you is the quiet hush of traffic below and your inhales and exhales of smoke. 

“You got another meeting?” you ask, crossing your arms and pressing minutely closer, enjoying the distant shiver Tomura gifts you. 

“No,” he murmurs, his voice low. You think that might be the end of the conversation but he continues a few seconds later, his head tilting toward yours, those red eyes scanning your upturned face. “They’re on a mission. I’m not able to participate. It will need to be like a SIM game. They are the pieces that I’ll move over the board, they’ll act to my battle plan.”

You turn to him, your eyes wide. “So, they’re just...pawns? Little NPC’s that don’t matter?”

Tomura laughs and his teeth gleam in the moonlight and distant shine of the neon lights. “Of course not. Do I look that heartless? No, they’re valuable players and if this goes right, we’ll be able to take on the next level with a decided edge.” 

You let that last comment hover, pausing to take another huff, your eyes lowered, brooding over his words. “So, you’re their vanguard leader?”

“Sure,” Tomura nods, “We can’t keep grinding each mission, hoping to pick up any XP these heroes happen to drop. We need to make waves of our own.”

“Oh? Like the Hero Killer?”

“No,” Tomura snarls, his arm tensing beside yours, a hand rising to scritch at his scarred neck agitatedly. “Nothing like him. We’re looking past him. He was too short sighted, so busy following his own code of justice that he didn’t notice he was breeding more heroes, not putting them down.”

“Hmm,” you sigh, thumping your head lightly against the concrete behind you. “That is true. But, you can’t deny he’s brought up some serious divisions. It’s funny, really. It makes me think of this little hero toy I had when I was younger. 

It was of an older hero, he prolly died long ago, but I loved that toy when I was a kid. Then, as I got older, it stopped mattering and one day, without me even realizing it, it lost its importance entirely. I wonder if hero society will ever shift to that. With the fractures that have been seen at UA and all over Japan, it could be a matter of time before real change starts to happen. Anyway, I wasn’t meaning to grill you on your, uh, projects. I was--”

“What toy?” 

His question nonpluses you and you cock your head, blinking up at his peripheral stare. “Um, I think it was of that fast hero, O’clock. It was my older brothers originally, but he passed it down to me. No idea where it is now. It likely got lost in a move or accidentally left behind.”

Tomura lifts his eyes from yours, his jaw clenching and a slow gulp echoing down his lean throat. You watch the bob of his Adam’s apple, fascinated by the movement. That urge to touch him is back and you have to clench your fingers into your palms to quiet it. 

You’re so distracted by your primal reaction to him, that you miss his question and he has to repeat it, his eyes slipping back to yours, the red dark. 

“What?” you ask, blinking against the acuteness of his gaze. 

“Can I take a hit of that?”

“Of what...oh.” You lift the half smoked joint and chuckle at yourself, pressing the smoldering paper toward him. “Sure. You had one before?”

“Does it matter?” He scoffs, carefully taking the white roach from you and raising it to his chapped lips.

“Go slow,” you warn as he begins to inhale, his eyes drifting to a half mast, concentrating.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he grumbles, pulling a tentative, but heavy, drag into his lungs.

“Fine,” you scoff playfully, “do what you want. But don’t blame me when you’re coughing up a lung.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t heed your advice and, seconds later, he’s clutching at his throat, dropping the joint onto the broken gravel and concrete as he heaves. Instinctively, you thump him on his back and run your palm soothingly over his lean shoulder blades, surprised by the corded muscle that greets you. For a relatively thin guy, he’s certainly packing some strength under that unassuming form of his. 

Tomura startles at your touch and he yanks himself away from you, his head ducked, eyes fastening onto yours, the irises accusatory and bright, burning with some underlying emotion that you’re too nervous to name right now. 

“Uh,” you begin, aghast that you’ve upset him, “m-my bad…”

But, he’s already leaving, his head firmly turned from you, clambering over the edge and back onto the fire escape, leaving you alone in the darkness. 

******                

After that night, you can’t slip him out of your mind. Even when you sleep, you can see those red eyes of his, gleaming and hungry. One evening, you’d even woken with your fingers firmly pressed to your throbbing clit, stumbling and gasping, shaking free of a dream of him. He’d felt so real, so in focus and you can’t catch your breath, fingers still rubbing a tight circle over your quivering bundle of nerves. You pant as you break yourself, sukling in the whites and reds that haze over your vision. Yeah, that crush of his definitely isn’t a one sided thing.

The next shift you work, he’s waiting for you, perched in his familiar seat, his shoulders curved and tight. You give him a glance, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. His hands are lowered, fiddling with something under the bartop. You begin to open your bar, trying to quiet your wandering thoughts, not wanting to perturb him again. You’re uncorking a red wine when he presses something across the mahogany wood of the bar, toward you.

It’s small, with dark colors and a tiny, familiar, upper half mask. You let the bottle of wine thud against the counter, abandoning the half opened bottle to move closer. It’s...it’s your-- No. It can’t be yours, but it is the same toy, the one you’d mentioned on the roof the other night. How did he?

You gulp and look up at him, your heart pulsing wildly against your ribs. For the first time, he looks away from you first, his white hair pillowing across his brow. His lips start to rise in an all too habitual scowl and his raspy voice lifts to your ears. “If you don’t want it,” he grouses, one hand pulling away from the offered toy, clearly flustered by your wondering gaze. Without thinking, you slip your fingertips over the top of his hand, prolonging the touch, sulking in the warmth of him. 

His fingers curl, some unconscious tremor racing along his digits. He almost yanks himself away, but then he stops, sighing as his eyes lift to yours. For a long moment, the two of you watch the other. You can hear his breathing speed up and you can almost smell the shift in the air. All it would take is one, tiny push to break that delicious tension. 

Tomura’s nostrils flare as you start to lean closer, your body curving toward his, fingers still pressing into his skin. Your tongue dips out, wetting your lower lip and pulling it into your mouth, sucking on the plush flesh. His eyelids have lowered and he’s mirroring your motions, his elbows assisting his lift, his face upturning, seeking, reaching.

With a bang, the front door is flung open and it breaks the spell that’s fallen over the two of you. Tomura leans away first, his eyes narrowed in agitation, sliding from your open face to the darkness of the entryway. You exhale a shaking breath and follow Tomura’s gaze. It’s that masked man, the one with the top hat and he’s already striding confidently forward, peppering Tomura with a series of questions. 

Snagging up his gift to you, you walk back to your bottle of wine. 

******    

You don’t have a chance to see Tomura again until he tells you, one evening, that the bar is going to be closed for the next few days. Then, over his shoulder, you spot the blonde boy, strapped and bound into a stiff chair and you blanch, stunned, too overwrought to give him more than a one word acknowledgement before stumbling back outside. In all of your talks, he’d never mentioned anything like this. That boy looked like a kid, barely past middle school, his eyes wild and defiant, but also so, so frightened. 

No, you think, pacing your apartment, it’s impossible to come to terms with this. You can’t stay there, can’t work there. It’s too dangerous, too close to a real criminal den for comfort. You have to look out for yourself, no matter your feelings for the man who’s wandering down some long, lost pathway, toward a future you can’t even comprehend, let alone see.

So, you hand in your written resignation. 

Kurogiri is behind the bar when you bring it in, and you’re hoping that the early morning conversation will spare you from having to see him. The wispy, purple hand of Kurogiri is just about to take your letter when Tomura barges down the hallway. His eyes immediately land on you and he steps forward, a dark look passing over his palled features. 

“Why?” he growls, fingers snatching the paper from Kurogiri and crumbling the parchment to bits, his quirk rendering your typed words to nothingness. 

“I don’t want to be a part of any kidnapping. It…” you pause, looking toward Kurogiri and, to your surprise, he nods to Tomura and moves away, leaving the two of you alone in the vacant bar. Tomura is still glaring at you, but he’s waiting for you to finish your thought, his jaw grinding quietly. 

“This doesn’t feel like you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tomura scoffs, his chin jutting at the assertion. 

“This doesn’t change society. This is just some petty attempt to get back at the UA staff. It’s like...It’s like you’re asking for trouble to seek you out. You’re smarter than this. Besides, what are you going to do with him?” you smart, crossing your arms and balling your fingers into your fists. 

“What do you know about anything? That kid’s been oppressed by hero society, literally muzzled and bound--”

“As if you’re doing any better! He’s still muzzled and bound, Tomura! He’s just in a different location. This is insanity. Who put you up to doing--”

“That doesn’t matter. This conversation has nothing to do with that. You can’t leave,” Tomura snaps, his head lowering, soft white hair falling over his face. “Give it a few more days.”

“What? I can’t stay if the bar is raided and it’s prolly gonna be if you keep that kid. Besides, that’s not--”

“Just...just give me a few more days. I don’t want to beg you, I shouldn’t fucking need to beg you. It’s not an impossible request (Y/N). Just--”

“Fine,” you sigh, uncrossing your arms and watching him. He looks on edge, haggard and angry. Those emotions aren’t projected at you, you know that. Nevertheless, it doesn’t lessen the danger he’s asking you to stand with him in. But, you can give him a few days and you tell him so, trying to ignore the pattering of your heart when he looks at you and smiles.

******

Then, Kamino happens. 

You weren’t there, thank God. But he was, and now, no matter what he’d asked of you, no matter what he’d hoped for, everything shifts apart. Days linger into weeks and you’re trying your best to reason that he’d made it out in one piece. Surely, you would have heard something. The capture of the leader of the League of Villains would have been a morsel that the media would have wanted to crow about, especially after the loss of All Might. 

Late one evening, your phone rings. 

It’s an unknown, blacked out number, but something tells you to answer, so you pick it up. You almost gasp when you hear that familiar rasp and you listen to what he tells you. You can’t get over how brittle and cracked his voice sounds but you write down the address he gives you. He cloaks his true motivations with a lie. Apparently, he has your last paycheck. Like that even matters to you. Honestly, you’re just glad he’s safe and whole. But, he’s gone to all this effort to build a bridge back to him, so of course you’re going to go.

You check and double check the directions, carefully maneuvering and weaving through bus stops and back streets. Somehow, you make it and find yourself pressing open a dilapidated door and stepping into a small room. Only darkness greets you, even though the bright midday sun is shining outside. The place he’s brought you to is on a dock, on the outskirts of town, close to the salty edge of a bay. You can hear the mournful cries of a seagull as you close the door behind you, sealing yourself inside and blinking into the gloom.

It takes you a minute to catch sight of him.

He’s lingering along the edges but you can make out the glow of his eyes, red and fierce. He looks different. It’s only been a few weeks, but it looks like the weight of years has crushed him under its unfeeling grind in that short amount of time. No, Kamino has changed him, rendering him unhinged and dangerous, drifting along the peripheral of your vision. Still, you haven’t come here to witness him falling to bits at your feet. No, you’d come here with another, darker motive. 

Now, to work.

“What happened?” you ask, keeping your back firmly against the door. Watching him move closer, those red shoes of his glinting over the dark wooden floors.

“Sensei is...gone,” he replies, his voice hollow and faint. He’s mentioned his Sensei before and you’d heard the man’s strange voice echoing from that back television, like some distant, terrifying specter. But, you knew he was important to Tomura, more like a father than a teacher. However, you’d seen the news. You knew he was beaten to a pulp and captured, locked away and out of Tomura’s reach. Now, he can’t ask his Sensei for advice or support, not anymore. Even knowing what little you’ve gleaned about the strange man, Tomura must be devastated by his loss.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, genuine in your sympathy.

Tomura nods and fishes for something in the pocket of his trench coat, lifting a thin slip of paper out and showing it to you. “Here,” he sighs, still not meeting your eyes directly. 

“Oh,” you say, moving away from the door and taking a few steps toward him. “You really did ask me here for the check, huh?”

“What else did you want?” he grumbles, his voice regaining a small slice of that familiar rasping. The question lingers and you feel your pulse speed up, your palms itching at your sides. “Or, did you want to scold me again?” Tomura continues disgruntled, and you can see a grimace pass over his face.

“You deserved it,” you confirm, taking another step, only wavering when you’re a few feet from him. “You wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn't kidnapped that UA student. Now, the kid, and your Sensei are gone and you’re stuck here. Wherever here is”

“Look at you, quite the oracle aren’t you? So, you did come here to berate me.” Tomura snaps, dropping your pay stub to the dusty floor. 

“No,” you shake your head, not wanting this to spiral out of your control, not wanting him to simply shut you out, alone on that pier, left with all of your what ifs. “No, I didn’t come here to do that. I-I...it’s just that...well...that wasn’t you. That whole plan...it still doesn’t make sense”

“How the fuck would you know what is, or isn’t, me? You said that that morning, too. I didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now,” Tomura bristles, closing the distance and bowing up to you. You can feel the sheer heat of him radiating against your shirt and you shiver at the sensation. If you lift your hand you could touch him, you think distantly. He’s so close...He’s so... 

You gulp, trying to quell your rising emotions. “I guess, I don’t know then.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Fine,” you say, biting your lip.

“Fine,” he repeats, no doubt thinking that will be the end of it, but you’re not finished.

“You’re better than this you know,” you tell him, eyes searching for his, not relenting your glare until he finally meets you halfway, his red eyes flashing.

“Better than what? Better than you? A half baked woman, slumming her way from mid range bar, to mid range bar. Hoping you’ll catch the eye of the right person, someone who can pluck you from all the muck and grime that you lift that pretty little nose of yours at.”

“What?” you breathe, a snarl of your own etching across your face.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing. Fucking leading me on like that--”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You thought I’d be your ticket out, or you could wager me later for a better piece, something stronger, someone that could do something for you.” Tomura is seething, his chest bumping against yours, the red of his eyes burning as he glowers at you. 

“Tomura- I don’t know what you’re talk--”

“Stop saying that. You stupid, or something? And stop saying my name like that. Like it fucking matters. You could have had anything, you know? But...but you took it all for granted. You had the world...and then it...it’s...it’s just gone.”

He’s not talking about you anymore. Even though he’s growling and spitting rage at you, he’s not talking about you. “Shigaraki,” you begin, trying to see some way to reason with him. To bring him back to you. 

“Don’t call me that,” he groans, his head dipping, almost resting against your shoulder. “I haven’t earned...that’s not me.” 

“Alright. What am I supposed to call you?” you whisper, overwhelmed and trying to resist that urge to pull him into your arms. You’ve never seen him like this, and you don’t know, you don’t…

“There you go again, acting like you care.” Tomura scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“I do care, you ass,” you bite, turning your head toward him and letting your voice fall beside his ear. He snarls at the assertion and presses impossibly closer, trying his best to put on a show of wavering strength, knowing you might still be bullied into backing down, into denying him. But it’s not working, no you’ve come this far and you don’t want to leave him, not like this. 

“I care,” you repeat, still murmuring next to his cheek, so near you can hear, and feel, his ragged breaths, hot against your skin.

“About what?” he grunts, moving his head from you, determined to not let you win.

“About, well, you.”

“Liar,” he spits, but his voice wavers, showing you a tiny, tiny sliver of hope.

“Am not,” you counter and watch as he leans back, those vermillion eyes searching for yours. One of his hands lifts and he ghosts the digits over the top of your shoulder, watching as you shift toward the distant touch, pulled to him, like a magnet.

“Such a liar,” he posits, fingers hovering beside your neck, twitching with want. 

“No, I’m not,” you gasp, your voice so faint, you’re worried he might not hear it. But he does and he dips his head toward you, inches from your face, lips already parted and waiting. 

“Prove it,” he challenges, his voice deepening, losing that sharpened edge at long last.

So, you shove him. 

You’re not sure why that’s your first, instinctive reaction, but it’s too late to question your motives and it sparks a crazed response from the man in front of you, snapping him out of his head and refocusing him. 

He fumbles backwards, caught off guard, his red shoes catching as he lumbers, trying to not fall. His eyes flash at you and he instantly rights himself, moving back to you. Through it all, you can hear yourself saying something. It sounds like it might have been another taunt, but you can’t focus, not when he’s pressing himself against you, his fingers finally, finally touching you. 

Tomura can’t seem to settle now that he’s gotten ahold of you, his fingers tracing over your neck, your shoulders, your face, your sides. He’s panting and gasping, his fevered exhales fanning over your prickling skin.

“Get off me,” you moan, batting at his wandering hands.

“No,” he sighs, cupping your jaw and dragging you to his shaking lips. His kiss is clumsy, almost childlike. He lifts and leans, pressing halting smacks against you, grunting when you twist from him, fighting his hold.

“You don’t deserve it,” you tell him, wanting to lance that boil that’s festering in his mind, knowing he needs the pain before he can handle the sweetness of the pleasure. The last thing he needs is love. No, not right now. Hopefully, there will be time for that later. But for now, he needs something raw and shattered, something that will let him see that it’s not impossible to pick up the pieces, that he can be whole again, he just needs to try.

He drags his rough lips over yours and you lower your fingers into his snowy hair, pulling him closer, demanding that he give you more. He gasps at the sudden shift and you slip your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his and yanking stammering moans from him. Your lips are slick now and you use the extra lubrication to slip down his neck, leaving him trembling above you. 

You dip into each and every scar, laving over all those old hurts until he’s snarling. You leave a bruising bite against his pulse and he snatches your face between his palms, dragging you back to his lips. 

“Stop squirming,” he complains, his forehead bumping against yours, trying to keep up with your rapid fire laps and sucks. 

“No,” you laugh, fingers lacing into the lapels of his trench coat and using the leverage to drag your breasts over his hardened pectorals. He grunts at the sensation, one arm wrapping around your lower back, pinning you to him. When he finally manages to work his way free of your frantic presses, he lowers his lips to your neck, mimicking the same path you’d taken with him, his teeth nipping and pulling until your humming, giving him a thin cry of encouragement that spurs him on. 

Tomura drags a canine over your pulse and you shiver, folding into his crumpled embrace. He’s almost having to hold you upright and he growls when you slip from his arms, annoyed you’re making this so fucking difficult. 

“I said, keep still,” he reminds you, heaving you back up, lean forearms bracing you to him. You smile and lace your arms around his neck, wanting his lips again. He allows the pull, loving the contrast of your plush skin against his. He’s a fast learner and this time, it’s his tongue taps and maneuvers for entrance, swallowing down your needy pants. His nose presses into your cheek and you cup at his jaw, stroking the warm skin until he slows his frantic pace, meeting you halfway, and lingering in your wet softness.

Then, just as he’s getting comfortable, you dig your teeth into his lower lip, pulling until you bleed out a little taste of copper. He snarls and shoves you away, lifting the side of his hand to his injured mouth. 

“What was that for?” He snaps, tapping his fingers against the wound, watching as they come back red. “The fuck is wrong with…” His ire stutters to a halt when he catches sight of you. 

You’ve already slipped your shirt over your head and now your fingers are twisting until you unclasp your bra, sliding the lace down your arms. The cool air makes your nipples tighten but you don’t attempt to cover yourself from him. Instead, you arch an eyebrow at his abashed expression and begin to unbutton your pants, your fingers teasingly lingering over the button and zipper, before lowering the denim down the curve of your hips. 

You don’t even hear him approach. No, you’re too distracted by your little show to notice him until you feel those warm fingers tracing over the newly bared swells of your skin. You lift your head and your eyes catch his, smiling at the hazy hunger that’s blazing out at you. His touch is tentative and you roll your eyes openly at him, lifting your own hands over his, pressing him until he’s digging those four digits into your sumptuous flesh. 

His thumb rubs over your pebbled nipple and you reward him with a low moan, your eyes slipping behind your heavy eyelids. He cups at your other breast and lifts the weight of you into his palm, openly marveling at the feel of you. Still, it’s not enough and if you’re going to get your point across, you need him to give you more than these lazy strokes. 

“Take off your jacket,” you tell him, stepping away from him, quaking minutely in the loss of his warmth. 

“What?” he asks, clearly too overwrought to hear you. So, you help him along. Your fingers snatch the shoulders of his trench and you yank it off him, tossing the fabric down to the gritty floors. Then, you shove at him again. He isn’t as taken aback this time and he rallies immediately, snatching at you and dragging you against him, making you gasp at the harsh sensation of his dark clothes against your bare front. 

“What do you want?” you ask him, licking your tongue along the underside of his jaw, listening to his shuddering breaths. “What do you want to do to me, Tomura? Come on, I know you’ve got some idea. Fucking show me. Don’t let me boss you around, unless that’s what you’re wanting today to be about. I can take those reigns from you. I’m better at this after all. Less...flustered,” you pause, sucking and nipping at his neck, enjoying the indecisive flex of his fingers on your upper arms.

He allows you one more bite and then he’s tossing you down, not caring where you land. Thankfully, you sprawl over his discarded jacket, the fabric sparing you from the neglected wooden floor. You’re trying to regain your bearings when you hear his belt clatter to the floor. You look up at him, watching as he flings that dark shirt away, showing you the lean muscles that you’ve wondered about for so long. God, for someone so lanky, he looks fucking good. 

Tomura smirks at your expression and swiftly yanks his pants and boxers away too, revealing something even more mouthwatering. Fuck, fuck, you think, an involuntary gasp leaving your lips. His cock is thick, pulsing and absolutely dripping with his precum. The tip is a lovely pink, curving toward that chiseled stomach of his and damn, you want to suck on it until he’s putty in your hands. 

As if he can read your mind, Tomura steps closer, giving himself a few tugs as he peers down on you, imperious and almost perfectly in control. “You want it?” He asks, trying to hide that sudden shift in his voice, wanting to show you that he understands what you’re expecting from him. You nod and bite your lip, looking up at him from feathery eyelashes. 

“Come here,” he requests, slowing those pulls and letting his precum slip from his fist to the floor, tempting you with those tiny droplets of arousal. Obediently, you rise to your knees, fingers tracing up his thighs, smiling at the light buckling he gives you, his calves twitching and shaking. 

You tease your way to the apex of his hips and pause, lingering along that dip of his stomach. “Can I taste you?” you question coquettishly and you adore the moan that falls from his lips. 

Taking that as a yes, you slowly lower your mouth to him, ghosting the tip of him over you. Rubbing him back and forth, painting that thick precum over your lips until they’re glistening. Tiring of this little game, his fingers dip into your hair and he grips you, hard. With one pull, he’s burying that velvet heat of his length past the ring of your lips and into the sweet cavern of your mouth. His cock swells and throbs as you lap ravenous at the hefty weight of him.

He’s salty and earthy and you let your tongue swirl over his slit, lapping into that leaking gap until he’s murmuring nonsense over you. He’s almost too big for you to take, so one of your hands lifts and wraps around his base, easing your sucks and ensuring that none of him is left out of this gift of mind numbing ecstasy you’re bestowing upon him. 

There are several veins, racing along the side of his cock and you tickle along each of them, pressing until you can feel the beat of his heart, frantic and fluttering. Soon, he begins to silently ask you for more, rutting his hips against your face, scraping himself along the back of your throat. When you heave around him he lets out a loud, elongated moan and digs in again, lingering until you’re nearly choking. 

You chance a peek up at him and are surprised to see him gazing right back, those red eyes of his clouded and muddled. His hand keeps an insistent pressure against the back of your head, demanding that you keep going. So, you pick up the pace, lapping and sucking, hollowing your cheeks until a thin line of your drool begins to trickle along your chin, dripping onto your knees.

“Can...can I…” he begins, fingers starting to tremble, his knees buckling. No, that’s not what you want from him. You shake free of his hand, letting him slip from your mouth, and he stammers and sputters at the loss, his eyes narrowed and dark, glaring at you with a raw frustration. 

“No,” you tell him, keeping one hand on him, stroking him, maintaining that steady pressure until he’s grunting, his hips instinctively canting into the tantalizing motion. “No, you don’t ask me for anything. Yeah, I can finish you off, if you need me to take control, but it’s not going to be on your terms. If you’re wanting something Tomura, you better fucking take it. Stop asking me for permission. I’m not-- mmph--”

He rips your hand off of his dick and his fingers curl beside your ears, forcing your mouth back, and impaling you on his length, immediately gagging you on his heady thrusts. You inhale sharply, your breath catching, failing as he keeps railing into you. More saliva slides out of your lips and you falter, a weak whimper echoing around him. 

“Mmm,” he growls, holding your face as he presses against the back of your throat loving the clenching and mewls you give him. “That feels fucking good, (Y/N). Taking all of my cock, ah- fucking choking on it. You’re so fucking greedy. Don’t worry, I’ll give you more. Let’s see, what would make this even better, oh, I know. Saw it in a porn once. Put your hands behind your back and don’t move them unless I tell you to.”

Immediately, you clasp your fingers together, letting them rest against your lower back. The suspension knocks you off kilter, but Tomura braces your head with his other hand, pinning you between his palms. His dick is still lancing in and out of your mouth, scraping against your tonsils, making you swallow and open, trying to push yourself past that oppressive gagging sensation.

“Ahhh, such a good girl, now spread your legs and lift up, just a little bit, yes- right there. Better keep those hands still,” he taunts, pulling his cock out until it hangs against your lower lip, glimmering with the sheen of your ministrations. Then, he dives back in, thrusting and grinding until his balls are papping against your soaking chin. Your legs tremble as you hold yourself up and you can feel your own arousal, slipping down your inner thighs, splattering onto that dark trench coat of his. 

You’re heaving under him, grunting and slobbering trying to not fucking choke on the girth that’s being pistoned into you. He’s gasping praise at you, his white head thrown back, and his lower abdomen is rippling, letting you know he’s so, so close to spilling down your abused throat. He bows over you as he cums, spewing thick ropes of his release into you. You gulp at him, determined to let every last drop slither down your waiting throat, longing to savor everything that he’s giving you. 

True to your promise, you keep your hands clasped and you nearly topple over when he tugs free of your lips. Tomura takes pity on your wilted form and lowers himself to his knees, wrapping one hand around you and tapping twice on your shaking digits, letting you know you can relax your grip. You fall forward, and he waits above you, watching you with a mounting fascination. Once you catch your breath, you look up at him, not caring that you’re still covered in a mix of tears, spit and his cum. He smirks at your dishevelment, pleased by your open display of your wanton lust for him. 

“See? It’s not hard to take what you want, to do what you want,” you pant, still trying to gulp down a few more rough intakes of air.

Tomura sucks his teeth at your bravado, but you notice he’s having a little bit of trouble steading his own breathing and his hands are twitching as they reach for you. You hum when he cups at your dips and curves, lingering over spots that make you moan for him. As he plucks at one of your puckered nipples his eyes lift to yours and he leans close, pressing a wet line of kisses against your collarbone.

“Lay back,” he rumbles, still sucking at the hollow of your throat. You do as he says, propping yourself on your elbows, curious and waiting. He’s slowed down now that he’s slaked that first brush of pent up aggression, but he’s still got a little more to burn. You can see it, lingering behind his vermillion eyes, gleaming under the carnal intrigue. 

His fingers, so dangerous and deadly, race down your sides, falling to the juncture of your legs and dipping into the slick that he finds. He parts your folds, bracing himself over you, his lips sucking bruises into your skin. The gossamer threads of your leaking cunt run down his fingers and onto his open palm and he groans into your neck, nuzzling his nose to your skin and inhaling, deeply. 

“Does that feel good?” He asks, his voice scraping, like sandpaper, hoarse and undone along your heated cheek. Ok, you think, arching as he dips one digit into you, you can let him have that one question, especially when your mind is fogging over like this, unable to think of anything but that ache that’s pounding through your core. You roll your hips again, urging that finger to slip further and he hisses as you pull him in, your walls trembling at the intrusion. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, lifting himself to look down at you, his eyes wide with an awed marvel. “You’re so…”

“Mmm, so what?” you ask, wanting him to keep talking to you, loving rasp of his tone as it tells you such sinful things.

“So soft and warm and...God...so wet,” he replies, adding another finger, watching as you whine for him, your lower lips parting and welcoming him. He pumps the digits, in and out, at a steady rate, waiting for each quiver and ripple, trying to feel his way along, wanting to please you. 

“Can--” he stops himself, flushing as your eyes open and snap to his, a rough displeasure written over your face. He tears his gaze from yours and scowls, letting his fingers press a rougher rhythm into you, sucking his teeth at his unspoken inexperience. 

“This feels good,” you reassure him, not wanting to completely leave him adrift, knowing that he does need a little piece of guidance, for this part, at least. “Why don’t you get a closer look?” 

Tomura looks back to you and nods before sliding down your body, lowering himself until he’s face to face with his prize. His mouth drops and he licks at his chapped lips, painting a few, warm, exhales against your sensitive folds. You squirm at the sensation and he grins, leaning closer, his free hand spreading you for his inspection. 

“Is this…” his voice trails off and you can feel him wandering his way to just the right spot. When he lifts the fleshy hood of your clit and thumbs the distended pearl you gasp and shiver, your head falling back against his jacket, thumping against the floor. 

He laughs and you can feel him getting ready to swipe at you again, his thumb already slippery and near, the heat of it radiating against that sensitive bundle. “You like that,” he crows, repeating the motion until you’re writhing. “But—” he ponders, moving so his lips are pressed against you, resting on those sopping folds, waiting for you to look up at him. Once your head lifts and your eyes meet his, he lowers his mouth, sliding his tongue over you. 

“Oh,” you whisper, your hands automatically lifting and curling into his hair, threading the white tendrils along your palms. His tongue is rough and bumpy as it glides along, pausing to lap at some of your arousal. He smacks his lips at the taste, savoring the flavor before voraciously pressing back into you for more. When he pauses his explorations to give your clit a soft suck, you can’t help but flail, your back bowing and thighs tightening around his head. 

Tomura grunts at the rough treatment, prying your legs apart but not letting up on that suction, pleased he’s found something that makes you tremble to pieces in his hands. He’s always liked working you up, so it makes sense that, in this instance, he’s no different. 

His long digits are scraping into you, dragging along your quivering walls and spreading your cunt apart, leaking your arousal all over his jacket and onto his chin. He’s not satisfied yet, you’re not satisfied yet, so he keeps going, listening and watching, catching on to what makes you cry out his name, learning and adapting at an alarming speed. 

“T-Tomura,” you keen, your hips lifting, grinding yourself against his face, begging him to not stop. You feel a smirk lift his lips and his tongue begins to circle and lick over your clit, maintaining a steady pressure. Meanwhile, his fingers have latched onto something delicate and spongy within your pussy, repeating an arched gesture, curling and uncurling as they stroke your budding flames higher. 

“So good…” you murmur, hardly able to form the words as you feel that all encompassing tingle race along your bloodstream. “You’re doing so f-fucking good.” 

In response, he begins to suckle on your clit, lightly tracing a canine over the pulsing bundle and that’s all that it takes. Your head dips back, pressing into the floor so hard that your neck arches with your back and your legs wrap around him, holding him to you as you quiver and shake under him. You can feel your heartbeat as you return to yourself, thumping a rapid beat over your breastbone and radiating out to your fingers and toes. 

Tomura, for his part, hadn’t stopped lapping at you, his tongue replacing his fingers as he pushes the wet appendage into you, soaking up each wave of your release. Even when you’d dropped your death grip, your legs and arms flopping away from him, boneless and shaking, he’d kept on. After a few minutes of this, his lips suddenly feel a little too ragged, the chapped skin scratching against your sensitive, overstimulated, flushed lower lips. You do your best to wriggle away, but he stills your movements, not quite finished. 

“Ah- that...it’s starting to hurt,” you grouse, pushing a hand against his bowed head. That declaration seems to get through and, finally placated, he gives you one last lick and lifts his head, his eyes glinting down on you, dark and mischievous. 

“I want to fuck you,” he tells you, wiping a hand across his mouth, dragging the last of your essence away. You tilt your head and grin up at him. “So fuck me,” you reply, spreading your legs again, making room for his trim hips.

“Not like this,” he qualifies, his eyes hooded as he runs a hand along your leg, enjoying your skin, warm and pliant under his palm.

“Then how?” you ask, a little bewildered by this shift in attitude. Tomura leans up, resting on his haunches, leering at your nakedness, another smirk lifting his lips, arching that scar.

“Stand up,” he instructs. 

You pull your legs away and slowly rise to your feet, waiting for him to do the same. Once the two of you are eye level again, he tugs you to him, his lips pulling and nipping at yours. You can’t help but melt into his persistent touch and when he feels you slacken against him, he starts to push you backwards. He walks you slowly, carefully, but once your back touches the cold wall, his caresses become rougher, more insistent. 

He’s lifting your chin and his teeth are doing more biting than nipping, pulling at your lips until you’re gasping and swollen. He begins to lift away and you protest the movement, but his hand presses into your chest, shoving you back to the wall. You freeze at the forceful treatment, your eyes opening and fastening onto his. Waiting for his next move.

Tomura’s regained that wild look, his eyes hardening, sharpening like ruby slips of flint as they linger over you. “Turn around and brace your hands against the wall,” he commands and, for an instant, you debate pushing back, challenging his order, but that’s not what you’re here for. No, you’d come here with one thought in mind. 

To see if you could show him what choices, what strong inner drive, wholly independent of his Sensei, he did have. 

You’d watched that kidnapping debacle and all you could think about was how much better, how much stronger he’d be if he could just get out from under the thumb of that man, that voice on the tv. Even with this informal exercise of your own, Tomura had taken to your carnal lessons like a fish to water. He had always been a natural born leader, someone who cultivated and demanded change, he just needs a chance to try. A chance to prove that he didn’t need to ask permission, to ask questions. No, he only needed to act and he could make his aspirations a reality. 

So, you turn, splaying your fingers against the wall and waiting for his next move, tilting your head, wanting to see him. He runs a calloused hand over the plush swell of your ass, kneading the skin and stepping closer. Once his hips are flush with your posterior, he ruts his newly re-hardened cock against you, his ever copious precum aiding his motion, letting him glide between your cheeks, easing into that cleft. You groan and press back, wordlessly asking for him to keep going. 

Suddenly, his palm smacks against your ass, stinging the flesh and sending a sharp crack around the barren room. “I said, push out more. How am I supposed to fuck you when you’re plastered to the wall like that?” Tomura questions, his voice deep and guttural. You brace your hands against the peeling wallpaper and jut your ass out, presenting yourself to him, quietly hoping he’ll reward you with another spank. Pleased, Tomura does just that, his other hand lifting and smarting against your other, neglected cheek, imprinting his mark on you, even if it’s only for a brief moment, and his fingers linger on the warmth he’s raised from your skin. 

“Good girl,” he groans, taking his cock in his hand and searching for that weeping entrance to your waiting pussy. You aid him as best as you can, arching your hips until he finally, finally slips into you. Tomura lets out a deep sigh as your cunt devours his cock, slicking him into the heat of your rippling channel. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, pressing until his hips are flush with your ass, grinding his bony hipbone into your supple softness.

He gives you a brief second to adjust before he bows his head over your shoulder, panting and grunting. “Hold on,” he gasps, slowly pulling his hips back and then ramming his straining cock back into you. You mewl at the sudden ferocity of his thrusts, your head dipping against the steady weight of the wall. 

He offers you no reprieve as he pounds into you, his teeth latching onto your skin, sucking and drooling, losing himself in you. His balls tap against your swelled ass and you moan when he traces one hand around you, his fingers seeking your clit and pinching at the nub. 

Your teeth begin to chatter, but he doesn’t let up, maintaining that mind numbing pace, pressing and grinding until you can’t fucking think straight. He’s completely untethered and he slakes out all of those pent up questions, feelings, hurts and wants against you. After a time, he begins to murmur things to you, finally sucking up his loose tongue and resting his chin on the mess he’s left on your skin.

He’s worried he can’t do it. 

He’s never been alone, not like this. 

Sure, he has the others, he has Kurogiri, but it’s not the fucking same. 

He needs to see this through. 

He wants to, he has to.

Where do you go, when there’s no one else to turn to?

It’s like a confessional, this rutting he’s doing and it’s bleeding all of those thoughts away, letting them pool against the front of his mind and then, pop, they shift away. 

Oh this helps, he thinks, loving how you’re fucking taking him, how much you fucking need him. He can’t let you go. He can’t, he won’t. You’re all he has left. After all this, he can’t lose anything else. No, you were right, he’s gotta start taking things, snatching up pieces until he becomes this unstoppable force, greater than his Sensei, greater than All Might, greater than all of them. Yes, yes, yes, when he has you like this, everything else feels so fucking simple. 

He’s slowing, his hips beginning to stutter and press erratically against you. There’s no need to worry about you cumming for him, not when you’ve already broken around him so many times in the last few minutes. No, the second he started panting all of those thoughts against you, you were lost, your cunt gripping him so tightly you were worried it might never let go. 

Finally, with one last thrust, Tomura grinds his hips against you, his cock swelling and pulsing as he spills himself into you. The sensation of his cum splashing against your walls hurtles you over that edge one last time and you almost collapse, your legs shaking so badly you can't support your own weight. The only thing that prevents you from falling is Tomura. His arms snake around your waist and he holds you to him, his forehead resting heavily against your shoulder, sticking to your skin. 

After a long beat, Tomura pulls himself out of you, grunting at the loss of your warmth and sinks to the floor, dragging you with him. Naked and gasping, the two of you cling to the other, waiting for the world to stop spinning as you come back to yourselves. Tomura recovers first, tugging you to his chest and wrapping himself around you, his chin perched on the familiar slope of your shoulder.

“You didn’t...you didn’t need to do this, but...” Tomura halts, his voice soft as his lips press rough kisses to your skin, silently saying what he really means, what you mean to him.

“That’s not true,” you counter, turning your head toward him. “You deserve to make a choice for yourself. You’re your own boss now. Now all you have to do is act like it. Don’t make those mistakes again. You call the shots, not your Sensei, not anyone else in the League, just you. You’ll have other choices soon, so don’t doubt yourself, it’s not like you.”

He huffs out a laugh and buries his nose in your neck, inhaling your scent as he licks at a rising bruise. “I don’t think you’ll like my next choice,” he rumbles, one hand drifting over your side and cupping the soft mound of your breast.

“That depends on what it is,” you smile, your eyes closing at the tempting touch.

“Mmm, do me a favor,” he begins, nipping at your earlobe. “Get on your knees and open your mouth. You looked so fucking pretty when you were sucking on my cock, I wanna see it, one more time.”

“What?” you question, absolutely incredulous, “again?”

“Do as I say (Y/N),” he replies, rubbing his rising length along your ass.

“God,” you gasp, bucking at the sensation, “what have I done? At this rate, I won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“You’ll like it,” Tomura promises, his voice dark, “I’ll make sure that you do.”

Notes: never have i ever liked that kidnapping bullshit. i guess it lets AFO face off with All Might, but for Tomura’s development? it makes no sense and he’s never done anything like that again, in canon. so, uh, yeah. booo kidnapping scheme. 

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @yixxes, @ghstmthr, @rekoii, @diaouranask, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

[poguesrforlife]

Young and Beautiful | Rudy Pankow - Part 3

Okay first of all I’m sorry it took me so long but here is part three finally. Honestly I don’t know how to feel about this because at first I wanted it to be a filler chapter and then I thought I couldn't let you hang like this so I just poured it all out. I still have some more ideas about where this might go but you guys tell me if this feels already finished to you. AND AS ALWAYS THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! for all the love and support you give, I see you all and couldn't be more thankful xxx

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Trigger warning: alcohol, swearing, nothing too smutty, a little angst and a lot of jealousy

Word count: 3,741 word (god this is so long I’m sorry)

Y/N just got the role of her lifetime, starring beside the cast of Outer Banks in the second season as JJ’s love interest. It’s a dream come true and gets even dreamier when she meets Rudy Pankow her alleged love interest. Lines start to blur between reality and film and Y/N is left wondering if taking a leap of faith is worth risking her career.

[GIF not mine credits to owner]

Days passed and filming never stopped, neither did the thought of Rudy in your mind. It was constant, the sun rose and so did your thoughts of him, the night came and so did he in your dreams. By now you were convinced that this feeling would not go away anytime soon.

Maybe some distraction would do you good. 

“How about we go out tonight?” You proposed to the girls as you were lounging in your living room, painting toe-nails, scrolling through instagram and what-not. 

“Like out out?” Madelyne’s face lit up as she looked up from her bright yellow nail polish and passed the same expression to Madison. You nodded with a smile.

“I’d be down,” Madison agreed and sprang up from the couch in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, this is exciting! Let me call the boys,” Madelyne exclaimed and got up, waddling weirdly with her still wet toe nails to her phone on the kitchen bar.

Your face fell for a second. That was not exactly what you had in mind. You wanted a distraction from Rudy and him dancing in a sweaty club with beautiful women wouldn’t really help your current state of emotions. But you couldn’t let the girls know that. After shooting the other day they wouldn’t shut up about how one could feel the sexual tension between the two of you and you were just happy they hadn’t seen the sex scene.

“You good?” Bailey inquired as she noticed your sour face. You were quick to plaster a fake smile on your lips.

“Yeah, I’m just tired of sitting around all the time. This will do us some good!” You headed towards the bathroom to get a shower before going out and also to have a moment to yourself to prepare for tonight.

“The boys are down as well!” You heard Maddie scream from the kitchen and then she passed by you as fast as she could to look through her wardrobe. 

“Somebody is excited,” Bailey muttered beside you but joined her friend with a grin and helped her pick out something to wear. 

A couple hours later you were dressed to kill and ready to go. Even though you loved the Outer Banks clothing style, it reminded you of your hometown, it was nice to doll-up every now and then. Madison was taking pictures of you three in the big mirror besides the entry when you heard a knock on the door.

Madelyn was quick to open it and you were met with five handsome men staring back at you.

Chase escaped a whistle when he took all three of you in but you noticed how his eyes stayed on Madelyn just a bit too long. You made sure to remember asking him about it later. 

“Well, hot damn,” Rudy exclaimed as he entered the apartment and his eyes landed on the short dresses you were wearing.

“Eyes up here,” Madison warned him with a smile and pointed to her own brown ones.

“Not fair,” Austin gasped, clearly thinking you were playing with their feelings. Maybe you were. When Bailey had proposed to impress some folks tonight you at least had a special someone in mind. Who was to say the others didn’t have too?

Your eyes wandered over the boys outfits, all dressed up and looking incredibly handsome. Rudy sported a cream sweater and a cute little beige hat. You didn’t know why he would wear a hat to go clubbing but you knew he loved them. 

“Are you ready to head out then?” Drew smiled at you in his bright yellow shirt and motioned towards the door.

You piled out the door and headed downstairs to get an uber to your favourite club.

“I’m not sure if I like you in heels, Y/N. You’re almost as tall as me,” Chase pointed out as he walked behind you and took in your much taller figure.

“You’ll just have to deal with it, I guess,” You laughed and did an immaculate pirouette on your heels, something you had practiced a thousand times in your room back home.

“Would you look at her,” Madison squealed with joy as she watched your boost of confidence and joined you by linking your hands together and strutting down the sidewalk like it was a runway. 

It felt good to really feel yourself again after your uncertain emotions. Even though you noticed how a certain male’s eyes kept looking at your and your friend’s long legs, you didn’t care at the moment. You were having fun and you deserved it. 

All of you split up into several cars and then you were on your way to La Push, a vibrating ambient establishment the cast had dug out last year while filming in Charleston. The girls swore that you would have the best night out ever at that particular club.

You were not disappointed as you took in the colourful lights shining on the rustic open brick walls and the retro bar in the corner. The ages of the people were mixed all through but you could clearly see that everybody was enjoying themselves.

“Drinks?” Deion asked and nodded towards an empty table next to the bar and you all headed in the direction through the crowded area of dancing bodies.

“Milady.” Rudy offered you his hand with a posh English accent as you were about to try mastering a step in your heels. 

“Thank you, kind sir,” You smiled at him and put your hand in his and let him help you down. You couldn’t keep yourself from curtsying as he laughed at you playing along. His hand held yours tight in his as he led you to some barstools. 

“Gin Tonic with a lemon slice for the lady?” He ordered with a questioning look in your direction once the bartender got your attention. You couldn’t believe he memorised your go-to drink, as you nodded thankfully. “And a Corona for me please,” He finished and watched the bartender tend to your order.

After he payed for both of your drinks you thanked him, almost having to scream as the music was too loud, and he grabbed your hand back in his to help you down from the stool.

“Sure thing, sugar.” He gave you that unmistakable Rudy smile and once again the butterflies in your stomach began soaring. 

You had to pull yourself together. You were here to distract yourself from him not fall deeper for his charm. Although you had to admit he was not making it easy for you. 

Your other friends had ordered at the table and were ready to clink glasses once you joined them. 

“To a great night,” JD proposed and raised his glass.

“And to great friends,” You joined in and held up your own Gin Tonic.

“Hear, hear,” Austin agreed and the whole group cheered in joyous laughter as you brought your drinks to the middle. You greeted the familiar taste of the alcohol with open arms and enjoyed the light burning you were quite used to by now. 

Once you set your glass back on the table, Bailey raised a brow at your already half empty glass and you simply shrugged your shoulders. You needed to let loose tonight. 

“Dance with me,” You screamed over the music and grabbed her hand and your drink and made your way towards the dance floor.

Madison was the best dancer you knew and she proved it to you once again after some R&B music started playing. Your hips were shaking, your arms wildly flailing around and your feet shuffling over the floor as you downed your glass quickly. You already felt slightly buzzed, maybe you should have eaten more before going out. 

Jonathan joined the two of you quickly, just as good a dancer as your dear curly friend, and together they stole the show. You watched in awe as they moved to the music so carelessly and were a bit jealous at their easy-going nature. 

“C’mon Y/N, show me what you got!” Drew encouraged you suddenly from beside you with an outstretched hand. You slipped closer to him and swayed your hips as he twirled you around in his arms and laughed as he dipped you back. Maybe the distraction would work after all. You didn’t know for how long the both of you danced but you felt absolutely weightless. 

“I’m impressed Starkey,” You admitted as he flew with you over the dance floor, not once missing the beat. 

“Could say the same about you Y/L/N but I had a feeling you would be a good dancer,” He smirked and turned you around so your back was pressed against his chest and let his hands wander to your hips. 

At this point you were on your third drink, a bit too intoxicated, and not quite sure if this scenario would play out well. Drew was the perfect gentleman and absolutely sweet and handsome. You liked him a lot but… But he wasn’t Rudy. His hands on your body didn’t feel like a wildfire and his scent didn’t drive you crazy and his smile did not make your head spin. You cursed yourself for these thoughts. 

You looked up, your eyes roaming the club for a certain blond head of hair. You noticed Chase and Maddy dancing intimately with each other in one corner but chose to ignore it, you had a different mission. 

“I’ll be right back,” You told Drew with an apologetic smile as you turned to look at him and he looked confused for a second. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

“Be careful in here, it’s better if you don’t go by yourself,” He reminded you, always the protective type, and looked out over the club probably searching for Bailey.

“I’ll be fine,” You reassured him with a pad on the chest and slipped out of his embrace towards the restrooms.

On your way there you finally found your man of the hour. To your amusement Rudy was dancing with an elderly woman to some pop song and looked like he was having the time of his life. You felt the corners of your mouth lifting as you took in the scene. 

You slipped into the restroom to freshen up as your eyes met the mirror. The carefully applied makeup from Madison was smeared under your eyes, your lipstick long gone and your hair was basically a mess. But despite all you looked happy, you looked alive. You quickly touched up your appearance and rejoined the others. 

As soon as you stepped out however you were met with quite the unpleasant sight. There was a beautiful woman next to Rudy, one arm on his biceps as she leaned forwards to say something to him. It shouldn’t bother you, you knew that he was an attractive man with many qualities. But as his hand rested on her waist your throat tightened and you felt embarrassment deep in your bones. Of course he didn’t want you the same way you did. It was just acting and you were friends, it didn’t mean anything. But it had meant something, to you anyways. And that’s what you got for giving into your feelings. You watched them laughing together, inching closer to each other each second and your heart burned in pain. 

You turned around stumbling to your table as you tried to suppress the tears welling in your eyes. How could you have been so stupid? It was a stupid crush nothing more. 

Drew’s eyes lit up as you made your way towards his sitting figure at the table next to some of your friends. You had two choices here: Going home now and giving in to your stupid irrational feelings and ruining your night. Or doing what you were here for and distract yourself with a fucking good time. The answer came to you immediately.

“I don’t know about you guys but I was thinking about some tequila!” You proposed with a big fake smile as you looked at your friends and the others cheered in chorus.

“A round of tequila shots for the table please,” Chase told the waiter and soon enough salt, limes and shot glasses filled to the brim with the transparent liquid were brought to you.

“Cheers bitches!” You clinked glasses, licked up the salt on your hand, downed the shot of the devil’s brew and bit in the sour lime and laughed at the faces the others made after finishing their own shots.

You were having a good time tonight, even if it took killing your mind to do so. Which seemed to be the only option after another round of shots and some more Gin Tonics and you still felt like shit every time your eyes met Rudy’s figure. The girl from before was long gone but you couldn’t help but feel betrayed. How did he not see that you were obviously hooked on him? 

He came back to your table were everybody was laughing and having a good time, everyone except you it seemed.

“Are you alright?” He asked and plopped down beside you, throwing his arm over the couch behind you.

“Just peachy,” You heard the slurring in your voice yourself not as clear as you wanted it to be and cringed a bit. But just because you were drunk that didn’t mean you had a problem. You were fine.

“How much did you have to drink?” He inquired concerned and you saw his forehead wrinkle. Your hand automatically reached out to brush his worry away.

“What’s it to you, sugar?” You deliberately used the nickname he had given you before and you actually saw a smirk on his face as you drew your hand away from his forehead, the sour expression gone.

“I think it’s better if I take you home,” He laughed when you fell back against the couch trying to look mad at him.

“I can take myself home, thank you very much,” You argued, your words still a bit slurred. He could take the fucking girl from before home for all you cared. He hadn’t spoken to you all night and suddenly he wanted to take care of you. That’s not how that shit worked.

“Besides,” You interrupted him as he was about to say something else, “You didn’t dance with me all night. I really wanted to dance with you,” You pouted and cursed yourself a second after you registered what slipped out your mouth. Your eyes widened and you sat back up. Maybe you had an alcohol problem after all.

“Then dance with me, sugar.” Your head whipped around as soon as you heard him. He leaned back against the couch, an easy smirk playing on his lips as he eyed your figure. He never looked sexier to you.

“Let’s go then!” You jumped from the table, a bit too fast and swaying a bit, but you had to prove something to yourself. You could easily be friends with Rudy without any sexual tension. You just had to separate him from your roles in your head.

His arm sneaked around your waist seconds after and he pulled you down towards the dance floor, making sure you didn’t miss any steps like before. The feeling of his hand around you drove you insane so you grabbed it and shove it away with a grin. You were perfectly capable of walking by yourself. He just laughed and shook his head at your swaying figure. You were not sure what exactly was so funny to him in this moment. 

His hands however found yours again quickly as he held them and twirled you around carefully, pushing and pulling you every which way. You absolutely adored him but you needed distance. God, why had you willingly agreed to dance with him? Well, it had been your idea but anyways. 

You were glad when a faster song by Lizzo started and you entangled yourself from him to sway your hips on your own. Not many knew it but you danced a lot better when you were drunk for some reason. You were a lot less uptight and celebrated every body part of yours with free flowing moves. Rudy obviously enjoyed your newfound confidence as he mirrored your carelessness to the beat and cheered for you. The both of you were singing along to the music, jumping up and down and shimmying back and forth, having the time of your life. At one point you stole his head and put it on yourself, convinced that you looked irresistible with it but Rudy just laughed and got it back before throwing to your table where Austin caught it with a grin.

“Have I told you how good you look tonight?” He screamed over the music as he pushed himself closer to your body. His scent invaded your space and you immediately forgot why you had wanted distance from him in the first place.

“Tell me again,” You giggled and got closer to him as well. The songs changed again, something more sultry and slower, maybe the Weeknd or Miguel you weren’t sure as your attention was directed at yet another man.

“You look absolutely radiant,” He breathed and his alcoholic breath mingled with yours that’s how close you were.

Rudy’s hands found your waist again and this time you didn’t push him away. The opposite, you rested your hands on his broad chest, feeling his fast beating heart under your right hand. He pulled you closer as you were obviously giving in to him and swayed his hips against yours, the movement making your head spin.

“Are you drunk?” You asked him. You needed him to be sober so at least one of you would remember this moment tomorrow after everything else faded away. You needed him to remember how your bodies felt pressed together in this moment. How your hearts were beating in synch to the bass rocking through you. 

“Absolutely intoxicated,” He answered with a straight, sexy voice. He didn’t sound drunk to you but his words proved you different. 

“Maybe we should-“ You stopped mid sentence as you pulled back and saw his hungry eyes directed at your lips. Whatever you wanted to say left your senses in that very second.

“…stop?” Rudy finished your sentence questioning but not making any moves to stop any of this, whatever this was. “I don’t ever want to stop. I just wanna spend forever getting high off what it feels like to be around you.”

Your breath caught at his words and your eyes slipped from his lips to his blue eyes, illuminated by the club lights occasionally. You saw the hunger in them, the unmistakable lust that was a hundred percent mirrored in your own y/e/c eyes.

He described perfectly what if felt like to be around him, like you were high, intoxicated by him. And that feeling, you never wanted it to end. 

“I’m drunk…” You told him but let out the ‘on you’ part that definitely was a part of this sentence.

“I know, me too. And I know we shouldn’t do anything that we might regret tomorrow,” He took a deep breath and one of his hands cupped your face. “But I can’t stay away from you any longer.”

“I feel the same,” You admitted and bit your lip to keep a smile from showing on your face. But it didn’t matter as Rudy’s lips moved into a grin.

“If two people can’t stay away from each other, maybe they aren’t supposed to.” You nearly groaned at his annoying habit of always being able to say the perfect thing at the right time. 

You moved closer to him, your arms slung around his neck and your hips still slowly moving to the music. Your eyelids dropped as your mouth longed for his, feeling his breath on your lips.

Unexpectedly soft his mouth landed on yours, so different from the kisses you shared on set. His lips slowly moved with yours, taking his time to get used to the feeling. And even though the heat from the other times lacked it was no less passionate. You poured every fibre of your being into kissing him and really feeling him. He tasted like tequila and forbidden dreams and if you weren’t drunk before, you definitely were now.

Rudy became more needy as the kiss went on, his lips moving faster and his hands pulling you closer against him. When his teeth caught your lower lip you were done for. Without any regard for reason you gave into him. His tongue slipped into your mouth battling with yours for dominance. Your mouths bumped clumsily against each other as you were smiling into the kiss, teeth biting here and there occasionally but you couldn’t care less. You had waited for this for too long to show any signs of hesitation. After what felt like an eternity you pulled apart, breathing heavily. Your eyes locked and it felt like ecstasy was coursing through your veins.

“There you are! We’ve been looking for you for at least an hour.” You were thrown into ice-cold water as JD’s voice pulled you back into reality. You looked at him, the rest of your friends heading towards the door. Rudy and you shuffled apart awkwardly and fixed yourself a little. Your short dress had ridden up and his hair was all over the place.

“C’mon guys, we’re leaving!” Chase shouted from afar.

Your eyes wandered to Rudy, a content smile lying on his swollen lips as he stared at the floor. His hand slipped around yours and he pulled you after him, walking backwards so he could look at you.

“Our little secret,” He said with a wink and cupped your cheek in his other hand, before pecking your lips once again secretly and then following the others outside and to the Ubers taking you back to your flats.

You were still not fully understanding what had just happened, if it was all a feverish dream caused by the alcohol. But every time you thought that this could only be in your imagination Rudy’s hand on your thigh or around your waist pulled you back into reality. This was no longer part of a role, this was real life. And you would enjoy every second of it.

Tags: @lovelymaybankk @sspidermanss @1d5sosddl @arthiriticcricket @teamnick @lieswithoutfairytales @styles-xoxo @normatural @k-k0129 @mileven-reddie @perfektionsmakel @1-800-imagines @http-cherries @golden-eroda @outofstyles13 @jj-maybank-stan @fandom-phaser @hopelesswritingxd @teenwaywardasgardian @poguecollins @jjswhore @xpastel-kawaiix @styles-edward-harry @rollinsstuff @obx-baby @masintahin @floretsoleil @ivebeenthinkingboutu @fandomxreaders @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @pookie-cleary @kiarascarreras @runway-to-my-aid @saturnspack @sunshinemadds @hucklebaefinn @baileythepenguin @spider6oy @whoreforouterbanks​ @diego-klaus-hargreeves​

(I hope I didn’t miss anyone! If you’re not on here but would like to be send me a quick message xx)

[philcscphies]

NADINE DUPONT ( she/her ) is a CISGENDER WOMAN, FORTY-ONE year old OWNER OF BRINIE BAR who has been living in Moorbrooke for THREE YEARS. They were born on NOVEMBER 19th and right now, they are currently residing in ELMSETT GREEN. It has been said that they look suspiciously like ELODIE YUNG and if they had to choose a song to describe themselves, they would choose tongues & teeth by the crane wives.

DETAILS: tw: drugs, death

parents died of an apparent OD when she was two years old (dad was a dealer and mom was an addict who’d found herself wrapped up in his spell). Nadine always wondered if there was more to this story.

She entered into foster care and was adopted at the age of 6 by a nice enough family. Nadine was a quiet kind of kid who stuck to herself. In her teenage years, found that she had a talent for drawing though her art always bordered on the macabre and it frightened her parents. So, naturally, they forced her to see a therapist. Therapy didn’t really work.

Nadine attempted college but ended up dropping out. It was then that she began to work as a stripper at a gentleman’s club. Nadine quickly learned how to use her natural charms to gain secrets. It was amazing the things she’d learn just by smiling pretty and applying the right pressure to her patrons… and it was even more amazing the kind of money certain people would pay for these secrets.

She did this for a few years until she met the man who would change her life. He was famous — a defense lawyer who’d had a few high profile cases. He promised to provide everything for her if Nadine would be his live in girlfriend. She agreed and left the club behind.

Just months into the arrangement, Nadine began to secret money away into a private bank account. It was during this time that she also learned to fight. She found herself unwilling to be a pawn in the game that powerful men played. When she had enough, she left the arrangement. He’d done nothing wrong; she’d just found herself disillusioned by his brand of power. He’d marketed himself as a strong man, but Nadine had learned early on that even powerful men could be controlled.

It was then that she met Ezra. She wasn’t expecting to fall in love, but there was something about that man… and she definitely wasn’t expecting to end up pregnant. It terrified her especially when she found out about Ezra’s job. It felt as if she was always finding herself drawn to darkness.

A month after her child was born, Nadine once again left. She’d lost her parents to the dangers of drugs, and while her lifestyle wasn’t anymore morally appropriate, she was determined to provide better for her child.

Three years ago, she moved to Moorbrooke. She used the money she’d secreted away to purchase Brinie Bar — the bar and gentleman’s club. She’s determined to elevate it into something classy and sophisticated.

Nadine is incredibly protective of the people who work for her. She’d been in their position once. She knew what it was like to feel powerless and she didn’t want that for any of them. She’s determined to keep them safe at all times and will not hesitant to throw a patron out if they get too handsy with her dancers or fail to follow her rules. While the club runs on discretion, Nadine makes sure she knows enough about each patron who enters her club just so that she can keep her employees safe.

A few months ago, Nadine purchased a warehouse on the outskirts of town. There, she runs a weekly fight club. It’s invite only and all the traditional rules apply.

CONNECTIONS:

foster sibling (i’ll submit an WC)

employees for brinie bar (bartenders, wait staff, dancers, bouncers, etc)

fight club folks -- doctor, manager, fighters

friends

neighbors

flings

enemies

any and everything

[kozumekenza]

house of memories :: one

:: kageyama tobio x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 1.6k ::

the last you had heard of kageyama tobio, he was following his grandfather’s footsteps and leaving you behind to join the syndicate. a chance meeting throws him back into your life, along with all of the memories.

tw: alcohol, guns, clubs, profanity

The atmosphere in the room is dark, the damp scent filling your nose. There’s a door in front of you, a small window spilling light from the hallway into the square room. Approaching it slowly, you push it, only to open it into another dark room. This one is different; there’s a young boy sitting in the corner. He looks disheveled, black hair tangled and thin body shaking. You come closer to ask him why he’s here, why you are here, but when he looks up, he disappears. 

Spinning to the door you came in through, you see his blue eyes gazing through the small window, taunting you. You push the door, finally spilling out into the hallway. The boy is at the end, about to turn the corner, looking back at you, seemingly asking you to follow. 

You do, running to catch up, but the hallways are winding, with sharp corners and countless turns making you run in large circles. The boy is constantly just out of reach; every time you get close, he’s gone before your eyes. You’re tired of running, tired of following, tired of trying to catch up, but you know, somewhere in your brain, that he is your goal. You have to find him, have to help him, regardless of how unattainable he seems. 

When you wake in the middle of the night in your unlit bedroom, you’re gasping for air and shivering, his presence in your dreams making you uneasy. 

---

Kageyama Tobio runs a hand through his hair and tosses the glock onto his desk. He’s tired, so tired, but the night is far from over. The underground of Tokyo is just waking up, and he has work to do. 

He opens the locked drawer in his desk with his thumb, the sensor beeping and lighting up green. He searches for the only thing that can calm him down on nights like these: a singular photo, edges crumpled from how often he holds it, the creasing disrupting the subjects from how often it is folded, tucked away in the pocket of his suit jacket. 

The tears that appear in the corners of his eyes are ignored, as they always are. The photo is once again folded and tucked into his pocket. He does not dwell on the subjects of the photo; he has done enough of that in the past. He can recreate every detail of the picture in his mind, from the way only one of his shoes is tied, to the pattern and type of flowers on the girl’s dress. 

The door to his office is knocked on, and he unlocks it from a switch on the underside of his desk, allowing his second in command to walk in. 

Kageyama Miwa drops a file on his desk, and steps back to cross her arms and peer down at him. Even all these years later, his sister is the only one who can read him, who can make him feel small. 

“This week’s report,” she gestures to the file, “but how long are you going to keep this up? It’s been four years, Bi.”

Miwa is also the only one who calls him anything other than Master or Sir Kageyama, but he doesn’t know why she has to stick with his childhood nickname. 

He looks away, even though she’ll read everything on his face regardless. “Why does it matter? It’s not hurting anyone.”

“It’s hurting you.” He looks back at her, eyes blazing, ready to argue, but she cuts him off. “It’s hurting you, to know what she’s up to. Even if you say it isn’t, even if it’s only you and I who know about it, it’s hurting you.” Kageyama lets his mouth fall close, harsh words dying on his tongue. He hates when Miwa is right.

She comes closer, bending down to give him a half-hug and ruffle his hair. “You need to let her go, Bi.”

“I know.” He does know, but it’s hard. 

“I’ll help you, if you need it. You know I’m always on your side.”

“I know.” He knows this as well, better than anything else. If there’s anyone who will always be there for him, it’s his sister. 

She holds her hands out, and he grabs them, allowing her to pull him up and take some of the weight off of his shoulders, if only for a few seconds. “C’mon, we have work to do.”

---

The line to get inside the club is long, and upon seeing it, you groan. You should’ve known that everywhere would be packed on a Friday. You turn away, ready to keep walking until you reach another neon sign offering dancing and alcohol, but your best friend stops you with a hand on the wrist. 

“C’mon y/n, we’re going here.” 

“Do you not see the line?” You scoff at Hana’s pleading voice. “There are a dozen other clubs on this street, we can go to one of those.”

Her grin is nearly maniacal as she reaches into her clutch to pull out a thin black card. “The guy I slept with last week has a membership here, and he gave me his second card. We just have to wave this, and we’re good to go.”

You’re grinning now, too. Leave it to Hana to use her flings to her advantage. This isn’t the first time she’s done something like this, and you doubt it will be the last. She pulls on your wrist, dragging you to the empty VIP line. The bouncer looks at the card and the name on it, and it appears her latest fling does in fact have a membership, because he whispers to the bouncer next to him, and less then a minute later, you two are led inside by what appears to be a college-aged girl. 

She greets you both with a smile as you bypass the first floor, lit with neon blue lights sporting the club’s name, Shadow. “I’m Yuki, and I’ll be your waitress for the night. Have you two been here before?”

You both shake your head, and she continues, leading you to an elevator. “Well, you’re in luck. The membership you have is of our highest level, and the gentleman on the primary account is one of our most esteemed customers.” Hana shoots you a grin, proud of herself for bagging a halfway decent guy for once, and you shake your head in return, a smile on your face. “You’ll be seated on the top floor, which has a full bar and a private dance floor only for black card members. You’re welcome to explore the entirety of the club, just bring the card with you to regain access to the top floor.” She pauses as an attendant calls the elevator, then steps inside when it arrives. “If you need anything, anything at all, just let me know.”

The doors open, and it’s like stepping into a whole different club. The one up here is significantly classier, accented in a stormy dark blue and granite gray. You arrive on what seems to be the bar and seating area, which is fairly empty, but the sunken dance floor is packed. Yuki leads you to a raised booth near the bar with a perfect view of the entire space. 

“This is Toshiro, he’ll be your personal attendant. If you need anything and I’m not around, leave it to him.” She gestures to a man standing next to the booth, who greets both of you with a nod. Yuki leaves, promising to return soon to take your drink orders. 

“This place is crazy.” Hana looks around, eyes wide as she surveys the entire place. 

“It definitely is. Keep this guy.” You nod to the card, still clutched in her fist, and she grins. 

Yuki returns with complimentary champagne and later, with round after round of cocktails. You and Hana are happily tipsy, jumping around on the dance floor, when something catches your eye. There’s a guy at the bar, facing away from you, alone, which in itself is weird, as it seems everyone in the club has a partner (or a few). What really catches your attention, though, is the guy’s wide shoulders and the way his muscles ripple under the dark dress shirt he’s wearing. You tap Hana on the shoulder, promising to be back in a few minutes, and head towards the bar.

You don’t go directly towards the man, instead waiting by another group of people further down. You keep your eyes on him, watching as he appears to have a deep conversation with the bartender. You internally groan, hoping he isn’t already wasted if you’re going to have a chance to take him home. The bartender laughs at something he says and steps back, eyes scanning over you and the group next to you. When her eyes meet yours, something in her face shifts, and she leans back down to whisper something to the man. Something about her seems familiar, but you can’t put your finger on what it is. Half of her shoulder-length hair is pulled back into a low bun, and her sapphire eyes remind you too much of another’s. She pulls back from the man again and approaches you with an inviting smile on her face. 

“What can I get for you?”

“Just a martini please.”

“You got it.” She prepares it with the ease of someone who has made the same drink a thousand times, and before you know it, she’s sliding the drink across the bar to you. “What’s your name?”

Normally, you’d be against giving out your name to strangers, but something in her gaze allows you to drop your guard. You give her a wide smile. “Y/n.”

There’s a crash from down the bar, and you turn, martini in hand, to see the man staring right at you, piercing blue eyes making you feel like you were just dunked in ice cold water. 

The martini slips from your hand, glass shattering on the floor, as you look into the eyes of Kageyama Tobio.