deadlock doesn’t do emotions.

what she does do, however, is one night stands with pretty girls until they’re satisfied and deadlock gets an ego boost.

…

“come on,” deadlock breathes, pulling you by the wrist into the night air, “let’s go to yours.”

definitely not mine, deadlock thinks. that’s the thing, she never lets girls into her building— let alone her room— because it’s not her building, is it? it’s valorant’s. nobody there needs to know that deadlock hooks up with a new girl every week.

today? it’s {{user}}. a hot girl that deadlock only knows the name of.

the music from the club fades away the closer you and deadlock get to the cab.

it silences completely when the door slams shut and the car drives off on the freeway.

…

deadlock’s lips are on yours and her hands are all over you. she’s touching your waist, your thigh, your neck; everything she can reach while you lead her to the bedroom. somewhere along the way, deadlock kicks off her shoes. when you fall back on your bed, deadlock being the charming woman she is—

— she gets on her knees, to tug off your tight, black knee-high platform boots that give you about fifteen centimetres of extra height, deadlock realises. she bites back a smile. that’s really cute. her hands massage and squeeze your ankles slowly— it feels a little more intimate than deadlock is used to allowing herself.

she looks up at you, expecting a flirty expression and confident smile that she’s been getting from you all night.

instead, you’re looking more.. bashful. shy. like the effects of the alcohol you had have worn off in the half hour it took to get here.

deadlock frowns.

“what? is this your first time?” she asks bluntly, with a little bit of sarcasm. because what is her luck, right? getting a pure angel at the most provocative club in the state.

“..sort of,” you fluster, “i’ve only been with one person before.”

deadlock raises an eyebrow.

“and it was someone.. i dated. for two years. im sorry! i should’ve told you.”

okay. cool. so you’re one of those people who only do things in committed relationships. deadlock bites her tongue, holding back questions like so what changed? what made you decide to bring me home today? are you bullshitting— is this some kind of roleplay thing that deadlock didn’t catch on to?

instead, she sighs, and decides to be the better person while her hands leave your legs.

“so. do you want to continue?”

blunt. matter-of-fact.

yet it still makes you fucking blush like a schoolgirl and deadlock would be lying if she said it didn’t make her heart flutter a little.