#d: strangergraphics
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kurishiri · 11 days ago
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ELBERT’S PROMISED EVENT ⋆⁺₊❅. to our greed this christmas: a wicked love on this holy night. ˗ˏˋ masterlist ´ˎ˗
The white snow falls and scatters about, blanketing the world in the wake of silence.
——But even so, the desire blossoming from the depths of our heart would not freeze over.
“ I want you more…until I can reach the deepest part within… ”
As Christmas approaches, I can feel your greed on my fingertips.
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this is a collection event that doubles as the 2024 christmas event and elbert's promised event from the previous elections, as he was one of the top 5 suitors.
NOTE: i'm not sure if i will translate everything here. but whatever is translated by others, i will try to link here if i find them and credit!
as always, ♡ / ↻ / 💬 are heavily appreciated!
ᨒ↟𖠰⋆ EARLY CLEAR BONUS.
୨ ♡ ୧ ﹑elbert greetia﹒⟢
ᨒ↟𖠰⋆ COLLECTION STORIES.
﹙❄️﹚⟡﹒darius vogel﹕ꜝ
⌒﹒!liam evans﹒ꪆ୧ ₊
ʬʬ﹐⬚﹒victor﹒☃️
꒰🌨️꒱ ,william rex﹒!﹒zᶻ
♡﹒꒰꒰🧣﹒﹒ellis twilight
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cosmowgyral · 1 month ago
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Jude's Main Story
Chapters 3-4 Snippets
(only contains short summaries of few incidents)
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At the dock, MC is amazed by Jude’s excellent employee supervision. He reportedly pays all of his hardworking employees a respectable salary and even gives them another chance if they mess up something.
(I know I know, he's amazing isn't he? - says that with puffed up pride)
While returning to Crown castle, Jude gets attacked by a man whose business Jude destroyed because he was allegedly smuggling drugs through Raven's network. After that, Jude's assault on his way home from work appeared to happen every day. His life was sought after by politicians, business executives, bureaucrats, and even aristocrats. According to Ellis, Jude enjoys trampling on the lives of people in positions of authority.
MC feels that Jude could have easily avoided all of this, but he doesn't, which leads us to believe that maybe he was intentionally infuriating people and making them harbor resentment toward him. She requests Ellis to teach her self-defence as being with Jude was endangering her life. Ellis gives her a little gun from Victor's arm collection in addition to teaching her self-defense.
In chapter 4, Jude, Ellis and MC go to an aristocrat’s mansion who was allegedly involved in human trafficking and drug smuggling at one of Jude’s warehouses. Jude told him that selling 6 people will result in 6 smacks from him. MC tried to stop him as the scene became more graphic, but he warned her not to impede with her needless sense of justice. After some time, the guards of the mansion entered the room and Jude had to use his curse to put them to sleep, including a guard who was about to hit the MC from behind.
A fire is started in the mansion to destroy the evidence and Jude hurls MC out of the window, sneering at her for being in the way.
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-But, it's the heart that really hurts.
(If I be honest here, Jude's treatment can get very harsh. Just like mentioned above, his words did sorta sting at times. But, his harsh and bitter remarks make me even more determined to resist him, kinda makes me wanna glare at him back. )
Premium Story-
Jude and his choking (gaaaaaahhh!!)
He basically threatens her so she leaves him, telling her she’ll die if she stays with him. But she resolutely says that she’ll kill before she dies herself. (THAT’S RIGHT)
Naturally, he is taken aback and lets her go after which she offers to tend to his wounds. Here we get to see the book Jude carries around with him- Jules Verne’s From Earth to Moon. She is surprised to see Jude carrying a science fiction book and asks if he loves the moon. He claims to detest it. He feels compelled to gaze at it even though he doesn't want to because of how brilliantly it sparkles in the night sky. It doesn’t let him forget things he wants to forget.
Jude asks for something in exchange for MC's gratitude for saving her from the fire. Following a string of suggestions and Jude's rejections, he asks her to stop yapping or else he’ll shut her mouth himself. (IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW)
Naturally though, we are teased because this is only Chapter 4. He brings his face near enough to give the impression that he is truly going to kiss. Despite his taunts, she says that she doesn't care for a kiss or two. So he’s like “Should I just do it then?”
But this is Jude, so you can't really anticipate it this early. Therefore, I'm not disappointed, maybe? *tries to calm my heart down*
I'll share a few screenshots from the premium story in another post.
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gingernut1314 · 2 months ago
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Your Name
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Summary: You hear someone calling out for you and you are desperate to find them
Content: gender-neutral reader, childhood friends, reunion after years, ace giving the warmest of hugs
Word Count: 520+
A/N: Just a little something to help brighten @sordidmusings day up! I hope you enjoy lovely and know I love you so so much!! 🫶🫶 also a one piece fic? from me?? omg I feel like it has been a while oof
↞ to One Piece Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠
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You heard your name above all the noise and staticy buzzing in your ears. 
It was faint at first, but definitely your name. 
Where was it coming from? Who was calling for you?
The crew around you didn’t seem to hear it, too busy cheering and laughing and celebrating to hear it being called.
You didn’t want to celebrate. Not one bit. Especially now when someone was calling for you. Calling for you in a way that had your heart restart and beat in an urgency to find it.
Your name grew clearer and clearer the more you wandered through the crowd searching for whoever was calling for you.
You knew that voice. It was one you hadn’t heard in years but one you needed close now more than ever. 
Your eyes burned and blurred as your name was called again. You wanted to call back, but the tightening of your throat gave you pause. 
But when the voice began to float in the opposite direction, you fought through the frog in your throat and called his name. A name you hadn’t spoken, hadn’t dared to speak, in three long years. 
Your name was shouted now, coming back towards you. You stayed planted in your spot, knowing he would find you as you gave one last call of his name. 
The crowd seemed to part and there he was. Shaggy, black hair that needed a good scrub, sun-kissed skin covered in a layering of freckles. His dark, near black, brown eyes eased upon finding you, thin lips pulling at their corners. 
He called your name in relief at finally finding you.
“Ace.” You called back, voice wavering despite your wish to keep your upset nature at bay. His name on your lips was all it took to make the man you had missed so desperately rush forward, scooping you up in his strong arms. 
He held you close, enveloping you in his sunny warmth you wished to stay within forever. You buried your face in his shoulder, feeling those tears you had tried to keep back begin to wet his skin. 
You breathed his smoky scent in deep. A smell that instantly reminded you of back home. Of campfires he would put on for you, Luffy, and Sabo. Fires you and him would sit by late into the night, cuddled up next to each other. It was a smell you had craved to inhale again and nearly sobbed at its return.
“I told you I’d find you again.” He muttered into your neck, placing a soft kiss there. “Didn’t I?” You nodded, holding him just that much tighter as you sucked in a shaky breath. “Let’s get outta here, yeah?” 
“Please.” Ace pulled away, holding onto your shoulders as he took in every bit of your face he could. His lips tugged upward once more and you drank in the sight of that smirking smile you loved.
“Damn--I missed you.” And before you could even think to tell him just how much you missed him back, he was grabbing your hand and whisking you out of the crowd and into the chill night air.
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eddheadfreak · 2 months ago
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official eddhead𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 pinned
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idk what goes in a pinned... (⁠*⁠_⁠*;)
hello everynyan you can call me grimm ( ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝ ⁠)/
8teen/nonbinary/any pronouns
this is the box where eddsworld brain vomit goes 📦
thanx 4 reading \ more 2 come (⁠ノ゚⁠0゚⁠)⁠ノ⁠→
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faerie-with-a-knife · 2 months ago
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HEY!! I'M FAE!! :D
fae, faerie, that one chick who's been peer diagnosed with autism
she/they, filo 🇵🇭
+18 nsfw / sfw blog where i post art, try to write, and reblog everything i can get my grubby hands on
i mainly post and reblog stuff for my fixations, which are lyney from genshin impact, sunday from honkai star rail, luka from alien stage, ichimatsu from osomatsu-san, and that appallingly idiotic "OPEN THE BLOODY GATES HUHU" curly haired chucklefuck npc bastard aradin beno from baldur's gate 3 (i hope it's obvious that i do not blindly adore aradin here)
you can find me on ao3 and... yeah, that's it really LMAO
(in order of fixation) fandoms i'm in currently:
baldur's gate 3!! (the main focus of this blog for now, seeing as my mind is hardwired to be a fiend for it)
honkai star rail, honkai impact 3rd (don't quiz me on part 2 / still stuck in elysium realm era), genshin impact
alien stage, ethel cain, yaelokre, osomatsu-san, reverse 1999, skullgirls, needy streamer overload, omniscient reader's viewpoint, the greatest estate developer, the remarried empress, etc. etc. etc.
(to be updated) tags i mainly use:
#i want to crush aradin like a soda can — self explanatory, tag for aradin based beno pilled posts (mute if needed)
#ramblings — ramblings :3
in any case, hope you'll stick around!! or at least hear me out!! stay sexy!!!
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taintandviolent · 5 months ago
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Master ; Eddie Munson x Reader
summary: [PART ONE HERE!] It's been a few days since Eddie Munson and reader had their little hookup in the back of his van, and she's jonesing for more. After a D&D campaign, Eddie invites her back to his trailer.
word count & w a r n i n g s: 4.8K | female reader, smut, use of pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), light bondage, no use of y/n, fucking to music (because he would), eating out, p in v, slight cockwarming at the end.
a/n: i am so overwhelmed by the response to my first eddie fic!!! you guys are CRAZY! thank you though, from the bottom of my heart. i hope this part lives up to the last part! ps: i've never played d&d, so just ignore how bland that section is. thanks. ps #2: the album that eddie puts on is Ride the Lightning, so if you wanna' listen to that while you read.... please do. not beta-read, yada yada yada yada. divider by @/strangergraphics!!
full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!
For the most part, everything had returned to normal with the very welcomed exceptions of a few heated glances, some knowing smiles, and the occasional touch when he passed by you. All of which had you reeling, viciously fanning the embers of your desire for him. Many times throughout the week, you’d considered approaching him for one reason or another, but you were holding out for reasons unbeknownst to you.
In other news, Jason had requested a new lab partner - or tried - but Mrs. Cowan didn’t bother entertaining his request, much to your dismay. So the last period was spent with him, trying to remain cordial, but silently cursing everything he did. 
That morning, you’d woken up with a fiery craving for Eddie. It couldn’t be sated by merely thinking of him, or watching him from afar. You need to feel him again. Out front of Hawkins High, you bend down to retrieve your backpack, nestling your patterned Trapper Keeper in the crook of your arm. 
And as if on cue… 
“I’m your turbo lover! Better run for cover!” 
You freeze and straighten up, a chill shuddering up your spine. There’s no way someone is just playing that song. Your thighs press together tightly, as if doing so is inhibiting anything. You spin around, searching for the source of the music. And boy, do you find it. Eddie’s van screeches around the corner, just in front of you. 
You watch as Eddie then pulls into a parking spot, his arm hanging out the window of the van. He lifts it, giving you a casual wave, even though that gesture is anything but casual. For a moment, you’re almost mad. He’s all but ruined that song for you, because now all you can think about is him fingerbanging you in the back of his van. You let out a frustrated huff as the music dies off and the door creaks open.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He says as he passes, his voice dripping with nonchalance. Your mouth gapes open, appalled that he didn’t tackle you in kisses right then and there. You watch, wordlessly, as he takes the steps two at a time and march after him, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. He wasn’t getting away from you that quickly. Thankfully, this semester, you had two classes with him; English in the morning and History after lunch. The little game he was playing was vicious and mean, and you hated it. 
“Eddie, wait!” You call, trotting down the hallways. He slows his pace and gradually turns, a sly expression on his face. 
“Yeees?” 
“What are you doing?” 
“Uh.. y’know… just going to class.” He answers coolly, nodding his head towards Miss Tipton’s door. You steal a glance at his body; he’s wearing a Metallica shirt with his go-to black jeans, and he’s got a black backpack slung over his right shoulder. His hand is clamped around the handle of that lunchbox he always carries, his rings clanking together as he adjusts his grip. You remember what those rings felt like, entangled in your own fingers. At the lewd thought, you have to withhold a sigh. He’s so… you dig your nails into the plastic of your binder, growling slightly.
“You can’t just…” You stutter, looking at him with big, pleading eyes. “I’m going crazy over here.”
“Yeah? So what do you want me to do about it?” Suddenly walking you backwards, he urges you against someone’s locker, his belt buckle pressing hard into your stomach. Your breath comes out in a rush. “You want me to do it right here?” 
He brushes the backs of his fingers along your jawline, teasingly. Your eyes drift behind him, watching people’s eyes flit to you and widen as they pass. A few people snigger and make some comments, likely disparaging in nature. Of course, they must be thinking, who would want to be that close to the Freak of Hawkins? You groan inwardly and lean your head back against the slotted metal. 
“No… we can’t.”
“Then you’re gonna’ have to be patient, aren’t you, sweetheart?” His voice is husky and low, his breaths washing over your face. You frown slightly, but nod. You’d gotten something… the warmed, lingering sensation of his hips pressed against yours was enough to get you through the rest of the day, at least. He backs off, smirking, and reaches for the door, pulling it open. With eyebrows raised, he holds the door for you, letting you duck underneath his arm. 
Once in the classroom, you pick a seat and settle in. After a few moments, Miss Tipton turns to the chalkboard to write something and in doing so, turns her back away from the class. A few seconds later, something hits your shoulder, bouncing off of it. You look down at your feet and spot a folded up piece of notebook paper. Making sure that the teacher is still occupied, you bend down and scrape your fingers against the floor, scooping it into your grasp. You quickly unfold it, your eyes scanning over the scrawled letters. 
Today after last period. Meet me in the theatre. 
EDDIE 
PS: I miss the way you taste.
Your stomach tightens. Tucking your face into your shoulder, you sneakily peer back behind you. To your right, a few seats down, Eddie meets your gaze and feigns innocence, widening his eyes at you before casually scratching the side of his face with a capped pen. You withhold a smile and turn back around, tucking the note into your binder. Class continues without a hitch. In fact, it goes by surprisingly quickly. 
After class, you hurry to the payphone outside, dial home and bring the receiver to your ear. It rings twice before you hear your mother’s voice.
“Hello?” 
“Mom, it’s me.” 
“Honey, is everything okay?” You can hear the worry in her voice.
You smile, leaning against the nearby brick wall. “Yes, I’m fine. I just wanted to call you and let you know that I’m going to be home later today. I’m uh… thinking about joining a club.” 
“A club? At school? Honey, that’s great. Just be careful, okay?” 
You straighten up, hunching over the payphone again. “I will, I promise. Love you.” 
“Love you too. Bye-bye.” 
Every class speeds by, having been spent fantasizing. You’re in deep, too deep maybe. Short of drawing hearts around his name, you’ve allowed yourself to become completely wound around his guitar-calloused fingers, you’ve imagined every scenario possible and succeeded in riling yourself up throughout the day. Prepwork, you’d call it. 
So, later that afternoon, when you make it to the theatre, quietly opening one of the double doors, you’re almost disappointed that it’s a room full of boys. Sure, Eddie’s there, sitting at the head of the table, but it’s a room full of boys all the same. Foolishly, Hellfire Club wasn’t a frontrunner in your thoughts, you hadn’t even considered it or the fact that he had invited you to one of the sessions, and you’d agreed. You grimace and take a few steps forward, bringing yourself out of the shadows.
“Ah, she arrives.” Eddie’s voice booms, echoing in the acoustics of the theatre. He’s oozing confidence, and you bite your lip, silently talking your own arousal down. 
“Hey guys,” you say, trying to mask your nerves with a casual wave. “Eddie invited me.”
“Indeed I did.” He’s perched on an ornately carved chair, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers laced together. Eddie then jumps over the arm of the chair and bends down, retrieving something from his backpack. Casually, but almost theatrically, he strolls over. Once he’s in front of you, he reaches for your hand, pulling it up and carefully lays the item in your hands, his fingertips grazing the edge of your palm. It’s a Hellfire Club shirt, just like the one he wears. A smirk crawls across your lips; you were now technically in possession of two of his shirts.
After changing behind the heavy velvet curtains, you get situated in one of the empty seats, and Eddie explains the campaign, setting the scene with all of his elaborate, fantastic descriptions. This guy was a natural born storyteller, and you could tell he had a passion for this silly little game. Too quickly, it came to be your turn. You had no idea what you were doing, and you realize that you haven’t been paying attention at all. Your attention was… elsewhere the entire time. Panic grips your throat as everyone’s eyes are on you, waiting for your roll. 
“Uhhh,” You look apprehensively at the dice in your palm. Unlike regular dice, they have way too many sides and you don’t know what you need to achieve. Eddie assured you that you’d get the hang of it, but so far… you haven’t. “I have no idea but roll a one-hundred to charm the DM?” 
“One-hundre— WHAT! That doesn’t even make sense. She’s not even playing!” The kid with the curly hair – Dusty? Dustin? – sounded frustrated. He took this very seriously. They’d all briefly introduced themselves as you’d sat down, but your attention had been on and still was on Eddie the entire time, so you hardly retained any of their names. You are enchanted with his energy tonight; the way he masterfully navigates the campaign, engaging with each of the rolls and weaving an intricate story that none of the other players can predict, but adore all the same. 
You two make eye contact. Eddie withholds a smile. You can see it — the middle of his plush lips start to spread across his teeth but he reels it back in. It takes an immense amount of self control, but you don’t make finger guns at him. Instead, you toss the dice back onto the table, not bothering to watch what you’d rolled. With a groan, you lean back in the chair, which creaks in protest. “Fine,” you lamented, lacing your fingers behind your head. “I’ll just watch. I don’t understand this anyway.” 
“Lady Terowyn,” he starts, saying the name that he’d given you at the start. He holds your gaze strongly, leaning forward in his chair and gripping the sides of the table, his rings clanking against the wood. “You seem to have acquired a ferocious malady. You can roll again in hopes that Blossom Tealeaf will assist you with a cure…”
“Who was Blossom Tealeaf again?” You ask, almost exasperated and look around at the other players. Dustin rolls his eyes, slumping down in his chair. “Alright, alright. Sheesh. I’ll accept this… illness and just watch this time.”
“Alright, then. Lady Terowyn succumbs to the vicious curse and perishes. What shall you do?” 
The boys fall into a heated discussion and Eddie’s eyes find yours again. Without saying anything, he’s saying a lot. He’s smiling like he did before he kissed you, and the thought drives you insane. You have half a mind to climb across the table and go sit in his lap, sweeping your hips back and forth until his cock hardens underneath you, but you wouldn’t dare interrupt his campaign; it means too much to him and the others.
So, you sat. You sat, commenting, cheering the boys on when they figured something out, and gasped when their fearless dungeon master bested them yet again. Eventually, they warmed up to you, the coldness gone from their responses, even going so far as to involve you in some of the discussions. This went on for a few hours, until finally, they lost against the merciless beast that they’d been fighting. After the group dispersed outside, Eddie towed you to his van, promising he’d take you home. 
He pulls you into a kiss, his tongue dancing along your lower lip and slipping inside to wrestle with yours. You moan into his mouth, and slide your hands into the warmth inside his leather jacket. Never breaking the kiss, he gently pushes you against the side of his van, the metal cool behind your back. One of his hands moves to your leg, hitching it up around his waist to bring you even closer to him. He bucks his hips into you once, and your breath hitches. 
“It really is fun,” he starts, brushing his lips against your neck, trailing delicate kisses down the length of it. “Y’know… if you’d actually try playing it.” 
You whine, tilting your head to the side and allowing more space for him to kiss. “Listen, I was distracted, okay?” 
“Oh, by what?” 
“Like you don’t know.” 
Eddie chuckles, a breathy sound just underneath your earlobe. His lips ghost down your neck, stopping at a place between it and your shoulder, and he sucks the skin into his mouth. You wince at the sudden pressure, but don’t protest. It’ll inevitably leave a mark, and it seems he knows it. Smiling at the reddened skin, he leans back to look at you, to gaze into your half-lidded eyes. 
“You wanna’ go back to my place? Wayne’s outta’ town…” 
You aren’t sure who Wayne is… but the implications of that hang heavy between you two. For a moment, you say nothing, letting your gaze drift back and forth between his eyes and his lips, but finally, you nod. Eddie grins and is dragging you around to the passenger side before you have a chance to change your mind. He throws open the door and circles his hand in front of it, beckoning you inside. “Your chariot awaits, m’lady.” 
You can’t help but smile – the theatrics of his campaign are clearly still lingering. Once you’re in, Eddie shuts the door and hurries back around to the other side, retrieving his keys from his pocket. Tossing a confident smile your way, he stabs them into the ignition, turns them and the engine of the van roars to life.
The drive from the high school to the trailer park takes about ten minutes, but feels like twenty. Every time he pulls up on a stop sign, his hand drifts over to your thigh. He kneads it, his rings bumping together. Just when it starts to get good, just when his hand starts to drift up your skirt, he pulls it away, and accelerates. 
Once you’re inside, Eddie flips on the lights and turns to you, expectantly. He knows what’s coming. He’s been riling you up the entire ride. The second the door is shut, your lips are on him, smearing hot, wet kisses all over his neck and jawline. Eddie’s laughing breathily, his hands roaming around your waist and ass. “So needy,” he says. 
“I’ve been thinking about this since we….” Your voice trailed off, meeting his mouth in a sloppy kiss. Eddie keeps you there, holding your face tightly. He walks you backwards past the kitchen towards his bedroom until the back of your calves hit the mattress, and you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands trail up your waist, winding around the front of your body. It’s warm to the touch, and Eddie smiles as his large hands cup your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze.  
“Fuck, Eddie, oh my god…”
You claw at his leather jacket, trying to push it off his shoulders. You can’t get enough of him, and want him naked on top of you immediately. Enough teasing, enough foreplay. You’re desperate for him. 
“Someone’s grabby. We’ll fix that.” He pushes you lightly backwards onto the bed, your ass bouncing against the mattress, the springs squeaking in protest. 
He reaches around, pulling the black bandana from his back pocket, and shakes it out from its folded state. The heat that blossoms between your thighs is only worsening, becoming unbearable. One knee pressed into the bed, his body tilted slightly forward towards you. “Hands together, m’lady.”
At first, you stare, dumbfounded, up at him. He was… so cute. The dim, yellow lighting of the table lamp behind him creates a halo around his fluffy hair, akin to a renaissance painting. Some artist had to have painted an angel from this point of view… but there was nothing angelic about what was taking place. Nothing, because you were about to —
“Hello?” You blink once, twice. Had he been speaking the entire time? He quirks a brow, very obviously waiting for your response. His warm, chocolatey eyes hold yours in a death grip as he wraps the bandana around your wrists, tying it tightly in a knot. He hadn’t told you to look at him, at least not verbally. Deep down, you knew that you couldn’t look away if you tried. He knew that too. “Hands to yourself until I say so.”
“Yes, master.” He freezes, with his fingers still on the buckle of his belt and raises his head back up to look at you.
You try to speak, to undo what you’ve said, but only squeaks and a nervous string of ‘Uhhh’s come out. You drop your bound wrists into your lap with a dramatic huff, and roll your head back, staring embarrassed at the ceiling of his trailer. Truthfully, you hadn’t even known where that came from; you’d never called anyone ‘master’ in your entire life, and even mocked the concept. Master and Servant was a Depeche Mode song, not something you practiced in the bedroom.  
“I don’t knoow — dungeon master? I don’t know where that came from, I’m — Eddie, please — PLEASE!” Your head snapped back up.
“Hey,” He cooed, brushing your bangs from your eyes. “It’s okay. I liked that. I just couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not.”
Eddie brings his face close to yours, nuzzling his nose against your cheeks. “Lay back for me, sweetheart.” 
You do, bound hands resting on your stomach. Eddie shrugs out of his jacket, and pulls his shirt up from behind his back, tossing it onto the floor to join the rest of the clothes. You haven’t seen him shirtless before; the visual has your cunt clenching as your eyes dance over his tattoos, memorizing them. 
You watch him with hearts in your eyes as he strolls half-naked over to his stereo, pops in a tape, shuts the door and hits play; the heavy sound of Metallica fills the small room. You smirk. He would. As the song builds, Eddie returns to the edge of the bed, creeping closer, walking his hands on the mattress until he’s close enough to press a kiss to each of your kneecaps. Just like before, he unzips your skirt and peels down your tights, taking his time with the action. Your breath catches in your chest when you feel his calloused fingers ghosting along the outside of your thighs, sweeping along the flesh as it prickles with goosebumps. It’s not cold by any means, but the sensation of his fingers has your skin reacting.
“Now that’s a sight for sore eyes…” he says, admiring the way you look, pantsless but still wearing the Hellfire Club shirt. “God damn… you should be on the cover of an album or something.” He tilts his head, staring for a moment longer before he’s pulling the shirt over your head, and yanking your panties over the wide curve of your hips. 
The rest of your clothes join his on the floor of his bedroom, and you’re naked, lying on his stained sheets, writhing in anticipation. Eddie pulls your thighs apart carefully but forcefully, like he’s opening the jaws of a lion. He slots himself underneath your legs, hoisting your thighs onto the curve of his shoulders. As soon as you realize what’s about to transpire, he feels the sudden tension in your body and slides his hands up your waist tenderly.
“Just relax. I know what I’m doing.” His voice is commanding and heavy with desire. 
Your eyes roll back in your head, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip; you feel your cunt clench at his lusty tone. You can feel your face flush with heat. Something about him makes you trust him, turn to putty in his grip – in fact, you’ve never trusted a man more in your life. You nod, inhaling a deep breath as he presses a kiss to your cunt. Some of your pathetic, shuddering whines are lost in the heavy guitar and drums of Metallica, which you’re grateful for. The feeling of his lips against her makes your whole body jerk violently, and Eddie’s hands are suddenly pressing down on your hips, holding them tight to the mattress. 
“Easy, baby…” 
You clench your jaws and shut your eyes, trying to slow your breathing, but that does little to pacify the feelings and how deeply he’s turning you on. His lips hover, his breath washing over her in small, warm gusts before he kisses her again, nuzzling his nose against the soft mound before his tongue slips in between the folds, flicking upwards. Still tied together, all you can do is lift your hands and wad them into tight fists. You could reach forward and push his head further into you, but he’d specifically ordered no touching. You whimper and writhe against the mattress, to which Eddie softly shakes his head against your cunt, muttering a ‘Mm-mm’, and again grips your hips tightly again, holding them in place. 
“You like that?” 
He swallows hard, before his tongue juts out again, toying with your clit, mercilessly flicking it back and forth and up and down. He encircles the swollen bundle of nerves and hums into your cunt, pleased at the visceral reaction from your body. Even over the music, you can hear the slick, suckling and slurping sounds he’s making, and above all, how wet you are, which is slightly mortifying, considering he’s only just started. Your juices leak onto his mattress, leaving yet another stain on his sheets.
“Words, sweetheart…” He pauses to say. One hand drifts between his legs, where he palms himself over his dark jeans. Eating you out has his cock achingly hard, and he wants nothing more than to sink it into you. 
Words? You don’t even know what those are. You can barely form a single word, let alone an entire sentence as his tongue laps at you again, flattening out against your sensitive flesh. It takes you a few tries, but you finally manage to squeak out: “Huhhh- mmm-yeah. Gonna’... gonna’...” 
Eddie pulls back slightly, pressing a single slick kiss against your inner thigh. “Yeah? So soon?” 
You whimper, nodding. “Mmmh…. So…. so good…” 
Bringing his hands underneath your ass, Eddie hoists your hips up, giving him a better angle to suck on your puffy clit. That does it – you’re unable to stop the floodgates. You cry out, bringing your bound hands to your face and pressing the balls of your palms against your mouth, pinching your bottom lip between them. Eddie swallows down your orgasm, bringing the tip of his tongue to your entrance as it squeezes.
As Eddie stands up and wipes the slick from his chin, the song changes, a single reverberating bell rings throughout the room. It brings a smirk to his lips. “For whom the bell tolls…” He says, running a single finger along the length of your quivering thigh. “The bell tolls for you, sweetheart.” 
Completely spent, you lift your head weakly, brows peaked together in question. “Wh…what…” 
Eddie palms himself again, stroking the swollen shaft through the fabric. His gaze is heavy, sweeping over your naked body as your chest heaves with laboured breaths. His long fingers move quickly, working to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans. The jeans fall loose at his hips, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of a lewd outline and a spot where the blue plaid fabric has darkened with pre-cum. He kicks them off and steps out of the circle, smiling at you.  
“Nothin’, baby. C’mere.” 
Eddie gets onto the bed with one knee first, and walks his way over to you. You turn your head to look at him and heave a shaky sigh as he reaches underneath your torso, twisting you so you’re laying rightways on the bed, your head on a pillow. 
“You ready?” 
“R-ready for what?” You breathe. 
“To have your world rocked, sweetheart.” 
“Again?” You coo, looking up at him with big, dreamy eyes. 
Eddie hooks his finger around the bandana and twists it around his index finger, tightening the fabric around your wrists. He yanks your hands up over your head, pressing them against the wall above. With his other hand still free, he pulls the waistband of his boxers down over the curve of his ass, allowing his heavy cock free. It slaps against his tummy, bobbing dangerously in front of your core. It occurs to you then how turned on he is over eating your pussy… his cock is leaking and twitching in front of you, begging for release. 
Fuck. 
At first, Eddie leans down, pressing his cock against your tummy as he kisses you. The kisses are sweet, tender, but passionate with a lingering hint of animalistic demand. He’s being gentle now, but you can feel the unbridled want behind his actions. 
“Do it,” you say. “Fuck me.” 
Eddie runs his tongue along his bottom lip and grins, taking hold of his cock with his free hand and giving it a few long strokes. A bead of precum oozes from the tip, stringing down to your stomach. He lines the tip up, and a warning pressure builds at your waiting entrance. You clench around the velvet soft head, and Eddie lets out a deep groan. 
“Holy shit…” he says. 
He tries to be gentle, but as soon as the tip breaches your slick hole and he feels how wet, how warm you are, he can’t help but sink every inch deep into you. He bucks his hips once, forcing his cock deep inside, and halts, allowing you a moment to adjust to the feeling of fullness. You gasp and tighten around him again, pulling a throaty sound from him. 
He begins rocking his hips back and forth, his shaft sliding wetly out of you. It doesn’t take him more than a few seconds to find a mind-shattering rhythm that has you gasping and clawing the wall above you. He holds onto your bound wrists still, pinning them tightly against the wall. The power in his thrusts come from his core, bucking relentlessly up into you. 
You lift your legs slightly, scooting up and pressing the roundness of your ass against his torso. As he thrusts, his palm presses low into your stomach, rings denting the flesh. 
Over the drums and guitar, the slick, hollow slop slop of his cock hammering into you fills the room, and your vision goes blurry as your lids drift shut. 
“F-fuck, Eddie… fuck!” 
His wanton, concentrating gaze drifts between your legs, watching as he impales you over and over again. You moan loud, much louder than James Hetfield was singing. Eddie shudders and groans, making a deep, almost pained sound. 
“You’re gonna kill me, you know that? Those moans are gonna’... Jesus Christ.”
You smile devilishly and meet his thrusts, rutting your hips against his. You see him clench his jaw, the muscles fluttering on the side of his face. The feelings are tantalizing him, and each jerk of his hips brings him closer to an orgasm. 
“Jesus Christ,” he repeats, looking down at your sweat-glistened body, watching as your breasts rock back and forth with each movement of his hips. You strain against his grip, wanting so desperately to touch him. 
“Master,” you whimper. “Let me touch your body… please….” 
The singular word makes his cock twitch inside you. His other hand joins the right, and quickly undoes the knot of his bandana, tossing it behind him. Your greedy fingers immediately snap to his torso, clawing their way up his toned abdomen. Your digits trail over his tattoos, tracing them absentmindedly as Eddie keeps fucking into you, his jaw hanging slack, expression completely blissed out.
“Harder, Eddie,” you moan, pressing your head back into the pillow. 
He obeys. Happily. He takes hold of your thighs, pressing them back against your body, exposing more of your cunt to him. His cock leaves you for a moment before he’s slamming back into you, heated and heavily.
It doesn’t take him long to reach a climax at this angle, or for you to reach your second one. You scream out, clawing at his abs as you clench around his dick, squeezing it in a vice-tight grip.
“Shit-shit-shit—” Eddie curses, looking down at your pussy. You feel the swelling throb of Eddie’s cock inside you as he paints you insides white. Your own orgasm has you shuddering against him, crying out his name. 
Eddie collapses atop of you, his cock still inside, and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck.
“That was…” 
“Yeah,” you echo. “Yeah. It was.”
After a few minutes, you turn your head, and press a single kiss against his plump lips. “Soooo, can I sit at your table now? I’m tired of sitting at Jason’s preppy table.” 
“Absolutely.” 
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hippiegoth97 · 5 months ago
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Heat of The Moment: Eddie Munson x Reader
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Description: You're best friends with Eddie, but you're also secretly in love with him. You struggle to hide your feelings, until a visit to Lover's Lake makes you unable to keep up the act anymore. Thankfully, things go better than you expect...
Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI:  smut, swearing, female reader, jealousy, crying, lots of angsty feelings, friends to lovers, metalhead!reader, drug references/use, grinding, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, praise/degradation, squirting
Word Count: 5.5k
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Divider by @strangergraphics-archive
Heat of The Moment
You've been close friends with Eddie Munson since high school. You remember not fitting in with anybody, and then Eddie took you under his wing. He showed you how to play D&D, and all of his metal band cassette tapes. Soon after, you joined the Hellfire Club and became a full-blown metalhead. You cut your hair short and dyed it funky colors, and wore a beaten leather jacket covered in pins and patches. Your jeans were always torn, and Converse adorned your feet at all times. You even had your nose pierced, much to your mother's dismay. Your eyes were always smoky with eyeliner, and dark red lipstick made your mouth look absolutely sinful. You made guitar pick earrings and a matching necklace to wear, Eddie had generously given the picks to you. You'd even made him a necklace as well, and he gave you the biggest bear hug when you gifted it to him on his birthday. You were hoping for a kiss, but you took whatever affection you could get from Eddie.
Years later, you'd both just squeaked by to graduate, you never took your grades very seriously. You don't see the point of doing what everyone in life pushed on you. College, marriage, kids, the house with the white picket fence. It all seems so hollow, and you want no part in it. You instead choose to focus on Eddie. You play D&D with him regularly, and he recently decided to teach you how to play the guitar. Some days you just get high and listen to Metallica or Dio in his trailer. Any time you can spend by his side, you jump at the chance. You couldn't help falling in love with him, but you're sure he doesn't feel the same. He treats you like a sister, a best friend. He always picks other girls to go out with and screw. It's not like you aren't a catch, you've been with plenty of guys. But none of them make you feel the way Eddie does, so you’ve never formed a long-term relationship with any of them. You can barely remember their names, they don't matter to you at all.
It always hurts you to see Eddie with other girls, kissing and giggling with them. They sit in his lap after his shows, practically humping him on the couch in his trailer. It always makes you want to scream, or vomit. That should be you, not some whore who doesn't care about him. So you try your best to act unbothered, bringing your own dates to distract yourself. You eventually fuck them on the couch while Eddie takes whatever girl he brought home to his bed.
But the whole time you're having sex with someone else, you can hear what’s happening in his bedroom. It makes you want to burst into tears, but you just pretend you don't hear. Or worse, you pretend the random guy you’re with is Eddie instead. You always feel disgusted afterwards though, you're just using random men to fill a gaping hole inside your heart. Not only that, you don't even pretend to like them. They all have blank faces, no names to you. You fill in the blanks when it comes time to screw them, pasting Eddie where you want him most. But they never perform the way you imagine he would. They don't care about you, or your pleasure. Once they're done, they leave. You're left laying on the couch afterwards, hearing noises from the bedroom with your clothes still removed or undone. It's here that you always lose the battle with your tears, letting them out silently to make sure the lovebirds aren't disturbed. You eventually get yourself together, wiping your tears away before Eddie escorts his girl to the door.
"You okay?" He always asks after he lets his whore out, taking notice of your puffy eyes and streaky eyeliner.
"Yeah, I’m fine. Just another asshole." It isn't necessarily a lie, the guys you pick blindly usually don't treat you very well.
"Maybe you need to find someone you actually like, Y/N. You deserve to be happy." He kneels in front of you, wiping your eyes carefully. He looks into your eyes, and opens his mouth to say something. But he always closes it again, and shakes his head slightly. "Let me drive you home." And he always does, trying his best to cheer you up on the way. Telling jokes, blasting music, swerving the van playfully on the road. He does everything he can to get your tears to stop. It always works too, he shines so bright in your life. He makes everything better, any troubles you have melt away when you're with him. He parks and walks you to the door of your apartment like a true gentleman, telling you goodnight. You say the same, and burst into tears all over again when you close the door behind you and you're sure he won't hear. You cry so hard your chest hurts, and your throat is left raw from sobbing.
You eventually run out of tears for the night, crawling into bed with all your clothes still on, too tired to remove them. You lay in bed yearning for Eddie for hours, picturing what being his girlfriend could be like. It's oddly comforting, playing pretend in your head while you curl up in the blanket. You drift off to sleep with thoughts of the man you love swirling in your mind. And in the morning, the cycle starts again. Wake up, D&D/guitar lessons, van hangout, work, Eddie's show, back to his trailer, meaningless sex, crying, drive home, crying again, sleep. At some point this routine is sure to kill you, you can't keep going like this. You'll tell Eddie how you feel the next time you see him. And then you can either be with him, or put these pesky feelings behind you if he only sees you as a friend.
It's a Saturday afternoon, and you're getting ready to see Eddie. It's just the two of you today, you'll be going to Lover's Lake to hang out in his van. You both like the lake, not because of its name but because it's always peaceful there. The reflections of the surrounding woods on the water, birds flying overhead, a cool breeze brushing through the trees. It's nice and quiet, making you feel like it's just you and Eddie in the world. You're just about finished applying your smudgy eyeliner when you hear Eddie honking outside. You almost stab yourself with your eye pencil when the sound startles you. You toss it on your vanity, checking yourself over to make sure you look good. Your makeup is flawless, your outfit is badass as ever, and you don’t have a single hair out of place. You smile at your own reflection, eager to go with Eddie so you can tell him how you feel. You grab your bag, rushing out of your apartment and down the stairs. You run over to the van, yanking the passenger door open. You slide into your seat, tossing your bag in the back.
"Hey there, Y/N. How are you doing on this fine afternoon?" He smirks at you, looking you up and down. You seem extra put together today, he wonders if he's the reason for it. He pushes the thought from his head, there's no way you think of him like that.
"Hey, Eddie. I'm alright I guess." You say quietly, feeling his eyes on you. You look at him, meeting his wandering gaze. Did he just check me out?, you wonder. No way, he wouldn't do that.
"You 'guess'? That doesn't sound like the Y/N I know. Well, hopefully some time at the lake will brighten your mood, hm?" He puts his hand on your knee, rubbing it comfortingly. You tense at his touch, almost holding your breath. The skin where his hand is feels tingly with anticipation. "Seriously, though. Are you feeling okay? You've been kinda off lately." He's genuinely concerned about you, you've been acting weird around him recently. Whenever he touches you, it makes you all jumpy, and you've been crying a lot too. He hopes he hasn't upset you somehow, he truly cares for you. He likes you a lot, more than he'd readily admit. But he figures you only see him as a friend.
"I'm fine, Eddie. Let's just go to the lake, okay?" You reply, almost annoyed. You look out the window, waiting for him to start driving. Eddie sighs, taking his hand off your knee. He grips the steering wheel, and drives out of the parking lot. You both ride in silence on the way to the lake, but Eddie can't help looking over at you every so often. You refuse to meet his gaze, keeping your eyes focused on any sights outside the window as you ride past. Any enthusiasm or bravery you had about telling Eddie you love him is slipping away from your grasp.
Eddie continues to glance at you as he goes his usual route to the lake. Something is definitely off with you, he can see a sad expression on your face reflecting back at him in the window you keep staring out of. He doesn't know exactly why you seem so down, but he hopes you'll at least talk to him about it.
You finally reach the lake, and Eddie parks the van in your usual spot. He kills the engine, turning in his seat to face you. "So, are you gonna tell me what's going on, Y/N? Did I make you upset or something?" You turn to face him, looking into his eyes. His expression makes your heart break. He thinks he's hurt you, but it's been you hurting yourself because of how you feel about him.
"No, Eddie. You didn't do anything. I'm just being stupid, I promise." You reach forward to take his hands into yours. He lets you, and you stroke his rings, taking comfort in how the cool metal feels under your thumb. You want to keep talking, but it's like your mouth has been sewn shut.
"So what is it then? And I'm sure it's not stupid, Y/N. But you seem so sad lately, and you practically wince whenever I touch you. Just tell me what's wrong, darling. There's nothing you could say that would make me like you any less." He implores you to open up to him. He wants to help, however he can.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Eds." You manage to reply, and your gaze falls to your joined hands. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and your palms are sweating beyond belief. You feel sick, like you can't breathe. You can't do this. It'll ruin everything, and then Eddie won't want to see you anymore. You try to hold back, but your tears fight their way from your eyes, dripping onto the floor. Eddie's hands leave your grasp, grabbing the sides of your face to make you look at him again.
"Hey, hey. Y/N, please don't cry. Whatever it is, please just tell me. I can't stand seeing you so unhappy, princess." Seeing you like this makes his heart smash into a million pieces. He wants to make it better, but he doesn't even know what the problem is. You start to panic, your breaths come out fast and shallow. You start feeling dizzy, and you wish you could just run and hide. But you can't, Eddie won't let you go.
"I can't do this, Eddie. It'll ruin everything. And then you won't like me anymore. And I can't live with that." You choke the words out between sobs, your face turning a deep shade of scarlet. You're so embarrassed, and you just want to drop it. "Please, just forget it. We can pretend this never happened and I'll stop being an idiot. Please, I-" Eddie interrupts you by bringing his lips to yours. Your sobs stop, but your body still shudders a bit. You return the kiss, it's gentle and warm. A few more tears slide down your cheeks, and then Eddie breaks the kiss. He smiles at you, letting go of your face to hold your hands again.
"You know, if you were in love with me, all you had to do was say so." His smile grows wider when you gasp at his words. You open your mouth to protest, or put yourself down, but he places a finger over your lips to keep you quiet. "It's alright, darling. I promise you haven't ruined anything. I should've guessed this is why you've been acting so strange. I just didn't think you'd feel the same way about me as I do about you." Your eyes widen, you can't believe he's actually been in love with you this whole time.
You move his finger from your mouth, and grab his shirt collar. You pull him into you, smashing your lips together. He groans as you almost make him fall from his seat, but he hungrily reciprocates the kiss. He bites your bottom lip, making you moan. He slips his tongue in, and you battle for dominance. He wins out, frantically leading you to the back of the van. There's pillows and blankets thrown about, making a comfortable landing place for you. You fall onto your back, with Eddie on top of you. You finally break the kiss, stroking his face with the back of your hand. "You have no idea how many times I've wished for this, Eddie. I've loved you for so long, but I didn't think I could ever tell you. You always chose other girls over me."
"I know, and I was a fuckin' idiot. I only did that because I thought you didn't want me. We could've saved so much time, so much heartbreak. I can't begin to tell you how often I imagined those other girls were you instead." You laugh in shock at what he’s said. Him, fantasizing about you? You can't believe it. This whole time, he’s only wanted you. "That's not weird, is it?" He asks, blushes slightly at his little confession.
"Not at all, Eddie. If I'm being honest, I did the same thing with all those assholes I brought to the trailer. But I don't think they came even close to pleasing me like I imagine you could."
"Jesus, we're a couple of sick fucks, aren't we?" He chuckles, shaking his head.
"No. We were just painfully oblivious to each other's true feelings." You giggle, staring into his eyes. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. Your lips meet again, slow and sensual this time. The temperature in the van begins to rise, you feel your blood boiling in your veins. Eddie's hands grip your waist, and his left knee goes between your legs. He's creating friction on your clothed core, causing you to moan. His lips leave yours, moving to your jaw, and your neck. He plants open-mouthed kisses on your skin, occasionally sucking the flesh to leave hickies on you. "Fuck, Eddie. You're really good at this." You sigh blissfully, letting every sensation wash over you.
"I should hope so, I've had plenty of practice." He says between kisses, smirking like an idiot. One of his hands leaves your waist to grope your tits through your shirt. You arch your back off the floor of the van, gasping at his touch. "You make such pretty noises, princess." He whispers in your ear. "I can't wait to hear what you sound like when you cum." His words make you so wet, and his knee grinding on you feels so good. Every move Eddie makes sets your insides on fire, intense waves of pleasure washing over you. He's got you so wound up, soaking through your panties. Not long now until he pushes you over the edge.
"If you keep going the way you are, it won't take much." You moan out, your hands tangling in his hair. You tug on it roughly, and he groans into your neck.
"Careful, Y/N. It's dangerous to push my buttons like that." He grins at you, pulling you to sit up. He places you on top of him, his thigh positioned between your legs. You're sitting on your knees, and Eddie grips your hips in his hands. "Ride my thigh, darling. I want you to make yourself cum for me." He says lowly, his eyes burning with lust as they gaze into yours. You do as he says, slowly moving your hips on him. Eddie keeps your pace steady, helping you into the right angle to hit the spot where you need him most. You place your hands on his shoulders for leverage, increasing your pace on him. He just sits there watching you closely, drinking in every moan and curse that falls from your lips.
The waves are crashing into you now, threatening to pull you under. You're sweating through your clothes, and your pussy is impossibly wet. "Fuck, Eddie. I'm so close." You moan loudly, digging your nails into his shoulders.
"Keep going, princess. Make a mess all over me. Let me hear those pretty moans." His words spur you on further, and you grind yourself on him as fast as you can. You're panting wildly, feeling wave after wave rolling into you. Eddie moves to bite down into your neck, which sends you falling over the edge.
"Oh, god!" You scream, your legs try to snap shut as stars fill your vision. Eddie holds you into his chest, keeping you upright as your orgasm rips through you. You keep gripping his shoulders, gasping for air as you ride out your high. You fall backwards after your body has calmed down. You just lay here like a starfish, trying to collect your thoughts. You're staring at the roof of the van, breathing heavily. Eddie lays down on his side next to you. His head is propped up with one hand, and the other slowly strokes your arm up and down.
"How are you feeling, love?" He asks, looking down at you with kind eyes.
"Good. Uh, great, actually." You say awkwardly, glancing at him briefly. "I've never done that before. Not…cum, I've done that plenty. I just mean, the whole...um, grinding on you thing. I didn't expect it to have such an effect on me." You can't help your cheeks burning. You feel silly, babbling words at Eddie like this.
"Relax, Y/N. You don't have to be embarrassed about anything with me, you know that." You look at him again, seeing genuine affection in his eyes. You nod, turning your body to face his. You get as close to him as you can, and he wraps his arms around you. You kiss him again, but it's much softer now. Your heart melts, and you pull him even closer. He breaks away, speaking quietly. "Do you want more, sweetheart?"
"Yes, please." You reply just as quietly. You're not sure why you're both being so quiet, but it feels right. This moment feels so intimate, and you never want it to end. You lay on your back again after removing your jacket. He takes his own off too, the climate inside the van is like a sauna.
"Take your shirt off for me, princess." You obey his command, tossing it away. Eddie's right hand immediately goes to massage one of your breasts over your bra, making you gasp. His eyes gaze over your body, almost in awe of how beautiful you look. After a moment of staring, he lifts your torso to reach behind you. He expertly unclasps your bra, pulling it off you with ease. His breath hitches when your tits are exposed for him, your nipples hardened from arousal. "You're so gorgeous, baby.'' You blush at his compliment, a small giggle escaping your lips. Eddie lowers his head to your chest, kissing the valley between your breasts. You moan, gripping his long locks again. He peppers wet kisses on every last inch of you, leaving no flesh untouched. From the curves of your tits, to your ribs underneath, his lips leave a scorching trail as he moves. Once he's satisfied with his work, he swirls his tongue around one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth.
"Eddie." You whimper as he worries his teeth on the sensitive bud. His hand gropes your other breast, squeezing it roughly. Once he's left you properly marked, Eddie repeats the same actions on the other side. You tug on his hair again, making him groan. You love hearing the effect you have on him, most guys are too shy to make noises. But Eddie isn't most guys, especially when he's around you. You tug again harder, and he moans even louder. He stops kissing your chest, looking at you. His eyes are dark, swirling with pure lust.
"You love playing with danger, don't you, princess?" He flashes you a devilish grin.
"Maybe." You smile back at him. "But I love the noises you make when I touch you even more. Guys don't really do that, but it's so fucking hot."
"Is that so?" He asks, you just nod at him. "I'll keep that in mind, darling." He sits up to remove his shirt, and you can't help gawking at his body. He's toned, but slender, and his tattoos look so good on him. You get on your knees to feel him up. You run your hands up and down his chest, feeling as much of him as you can. "You like what you see, love?" He asks quietly. You look into his eyes, feeling passion overtake you. You grab him by the shoulders, and push him over as you bring your lips onto his in a bruising kiss. He grunts as he falls, grabbing your waist to take you with him. You straddle him when he lands, grinding yourself onto his stiffening cock. He groans into your mouth, gripping your hips roughly. "What's gotten into you, Y/N? You're so needy." Eddie chuckles as he breaks the kiss to take a breath.
"You'll see, Eds. Just lay down and relax." You grin slyly at him. He cocks an eyebrow, unsure of what you mean. You proceed to lick a long stripe from his collarbone to his jaw. You look at him again, grinning like a Cheshire cat. He just stares at you, wide-eyed. He's panting, awaiting your next move. You feel his dick growing even harder beneath you. You take that as a sign to keep going. You lean back down to his neck, biting down hard this time, then sucking the skin to make a dark bruise.
"Jesus, fuck." He moans out, spurring you on. You nibble his skin, trailing down his neck, to his chest, his stomach. Each move you take elicits whimpers and curses from Eddie's lips. Every sound is music to your ears, making you more and more wet whenever you hear one. You reach his belt, looking over your handiwork. Eddie's body is littered with teeth marks, and he's breathing heavily. You undo his belt, taking your time in order to tease him. Once it's open you unzip his jeans, pulling them down as Eddie kicks off his shoes. He's left in his boxers now, and a tent has formed in the thin fabric. You grip his waistband and yank his boxers down. His dick springs free, slapping his stomach before standing up straight.
You take his length in your hand, stroking him gently. He groans again, sweat beginning to form on his brow. He looks at you with pleading eyes. "You're very sexy when you're desperate, baby." Eddie's completely fucked for you, silently begging you to put him in your mouth. You happily oblige him, taking every last inch of him at once. You gag slightly when he hits the back of your throat, but you're persistent about keeping as much of him in as possible. You bob your head up and down, twirling your tongue around him as you go. He's constantly letting out lewd noises, which only serve to fuel your fire.
"Keep going, babe. But can you put your pussy towards me?" He asks, barely getting the words out. You position yourself where he wants you, and he makes frantic work of taking off your shoes and remaining clothes. You moan on Eddie's cock as you feel him stroking your slick folds. "You're so wet, darling. Is this all for me?" He asks as he slips two fingers into your cunt.
All you can manage to reply with is a muffled 'mmhmm' as he starts curling his digits inside you. Each stroke of Eddie's fingers makes you see stars, causing you to moan on him again and again. This in turn makes him groan and pick up his pace while fingering you. You feel Eddie's balls tightening, he's getting close. You speed up, working him harder and faster, gagging on him repeatedly. He takes this as a challenge to give you another orgasm, so he takes his fingers out of you, replacing them with his tongue. You scream on his length, feeling a fire beginning to build in your belly. His mouth licks and sucks on your clit mercilessly, pouring gasoline on the flames.
You're both driving each other mad as you compete to send the other over the edge. Moans fill the van as you near your highs, each lick and stroke pushing you further and further. Eddie's release comes first, and his mouth temporarily leaves your dripping cunt to moan your name as he cums down your throat. Once you've swallowed every drop, he sucks your clit into his mouth to make you topple over the edge. You scream his name as your legs begin to shake. Your orgasm rips through your body viciously, and you feel yourself cum onto Eddie's face. He holds you steady until your high subsides, licking up all your juices in the meantime.
You collapse onto him, practically gasping for air. You lay on your stomach for a moment, waiting for your vision to clear. Eddie strokes the backs of your legs affectionately. "You alive over there, Y/N?" He asks playfully.
"Yeah, just...wow. You're so fucking good at that." You sit up, back still facing him. His arms wrap around you from behind, his legs on either side of you. He kisses your shoulder, and your neck. His lips feel warm and soft against your skin, and you're already wanting more. You sigh as you cock your head to the side to give Eddie more access. He licks the length of your neck, stopping below your jaw. "Everything you do feels so good, Eddie." You sigh lustfully. You turn slightly to face him, looking at him from under your lashes. "Do you want to fuck me now?" You ask, biting your lip.
"Sure thing, dollface. Can you get on your hands and knees for me?" You nod silently, doing as he says. He kneels behind you, gently pressing you downwards. He leaves you resting on your elbows with your ass in the air. He grips his cock, brushing it between your soaked folds, drawing low moans from both of you. He teases you like this for a moment, eager to have you beg him to fuck you. You're so turned on it almost hurts, you need him inside you now.
"Eddie, please stop teasing. I need your dick inside me." You practically whine for him. He chuckles darkly at your pleading.
"Your wish is my command, princess." He says as he slams his cock into you.
"Oh, fuck!" You cry out as he hits your g spot perfectly.
"God, you're so wet and tight for me. Fuckin’ gorgeous." He pants, and he begins to thrust in and out of you. You moan continuously, he hammers your sweet spot with each thrust. He smacks your ass, making you yell.
"Fuck, Eddie!" You grip the scattered blankets beneath you for dear life, spots hinder your vision as you're fucked into next week. The sound of your vulgar noises and slapping skin is all you can hear, and it's like the most beautiful music in the world. You're loving every second of this, as is Eddie. But there's something else you crave from him. You don't just want Eddie to fuck you, you want him to do filthy things to you. "Babe, do you mind choking me while you fuck me?" You ask him as he continues to pound into your cunt.
He's taken aback by your request. Not because he's not into it, he definitely is. He's just surprised you want him to do that to you. But he finds your desires to be ridiculously sexy, and who is he to deny you? "Of course, darling. Anything you want." You can hear the smirk in his voice as his ringed hand comes forward, pulling you up by the shoulder. He lays on your back slightly so he can reach your throat. You feel the cool metal that adorns his fingers wrap around your neck, squeezing lightly. You choke out a moan as the pressure makes your head lighten. He loosens his grip for a moment as he continues to fuck you.
"Fuck, you're so hot, Eddie. Keep going. Fuck me, choke me, make me cum, please." You keep moaning and begging for Eddie to have his way with you, and he can't help but give you anything you ask for.
"You're such a dirty girl, Y/N. I fuckin’ love it." His grip on your throat tightens again, and he snaps his hips even harder into you. You're both slicked in sweat, struggling to keep your positions. You're nearing the end again, and you can already tell it's going to be the most intense orgasm you've ever had. Your skin is on fire, your insides like burning coals. Every feeling is amplified, concentrated in your pussy. Every time Eddie's cock enters you, it's like fireworks being set off.
Every curse and dirty request you let out makes Eddie's dick twitch. He can't believe how beautiful and sexy you are like this. He's genuinely in love with you, and his heart pounds in his chest as he races to the finish line. His free hand slithers down between your legs to your clit, rubbing quick circles. You gasp loudly, and his ringed hand tightens around your throat. He uses his arm to hold you in place, rubbing and fucking and choking you simultaneously. Eddie mentally congratulates himself on pulling off such a feat, but maintains focus on making you cum. "I'm so close, babe. Keep going, just like that." You say once his grip loosens again.
"I'm almost there too, princess. Be a good girl and cum for me." He pinches your clit between his fingers, sending you toppling over the edge.
"Eddie! Oh, fuck!" You scream so loud, and you feel your pussy clamp onto Eddie's dick. He groans, feeling his own high take over. He continues to hold you as your legs tremble violently, and juices spurt out of you onto the blankets.
"Jesus, Y/N!" He moans as your walls clench him. He feels your cum rush over his cock, spilling out of you. It feels unbelievable, he's never experienced anything like it. His load empties into you, mixing with your release as his hips buck compulsively a few times. Once Eddie regains composure, he pulls out of you. You whine at the loss, and your combined arousal slowly drips out of you. Eddie stares at the sight for a moment, before wiping it up with his finger. You moan at the overstimulation, and lay on your stomach as you cool down. Eddie lays beside you, trying to get your attention. You turn to him, seeing the gathered cum still on his finger. He brings it to your lips, and you immediately take it in your mouth. You suck it clean, moaning at the sweet taste. "Shit, could you be any hotter, Y/N?"
You just shrug and lean over to kiss him. He melts into you, caressing your cheek. The kiss feels different this time. It's slow and tender, full of love. You eventually break away, and you both lay down again. You place your head on his chest, and he wraps his arms around you. Your leg lays over Eddie’s as you try to be as close to him as possible. Your hand strokes his chest while he plays with your hair. "I love you, Eddie. I'm so glad I met you." You say, barely above a whisper.
"I love you too, Y/N. I don't think I've ever loved anyone like this before." He replies at the same volume. He pulls one of the blankets over the both of you, snuggling into you even more. You can't help but let your eyes flutter closed. You're so content like this. Your heart swells as Eddie's words echo in your mind as you drift off to sleep. He loves you, and you love him. Nothing could ruin this moment. The world could end and you wouldn't care, as long as you get to stay like this with Eddie.
The end.
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mrsjellymunson · 7 months ago
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Start Something
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: Eddie helps you generate a new D&D character, but that’s not the only thing that gets started that day
WC: ~2.5k
C/W: 18+, MDNI! NSFW? Physical flirting and teasing, heavy petting, sort of in public (nobody notices). Smut-adjacent? Thigh riding. Swearing. Nothing overly explicit, but it does get heated. Eddie and reader are both over 18. Trope: oh no, there aren’t enough seats, where will you sit? No y/n, one pet name. No physical descriptions of reader other than she wears a skirt (of unspecified appearance).
A/N: Should I be working on parts for my outstanding series? Yes. Would this not leave me alone until I wrote it down? Also yes. I had fun creating a new character in a different RPG and I have no idea whether this is how D&D works, so if it’s not, let’s just pretend, okay? 😆 Text dividers by @strangergraphics Dice dividers by me 🫣☺️
I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 🖤
My masterlist
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Eddie can’t believe his luck. You’re pretty (gorgeous, actually), insanely intelligent and have, for some as yet indecipherable reason, decided that you want to play D&D. With a load of nerdy teens. And him.
You’ve joined in with a couple of short campaigns at school, seeming to enjoy them immensely and fitting in well with the group, bantering with the boys and bonding with Erica over your shared ‘take no shit’ attitudes. At first Eddie wasn't sure how that dynamic would work, but you slipped easily into letting the younger girl show you the ropes, and Erica is clearly enjoying having more female energy around.
Eddie knows that creating a new character is one of your favourite things to do. He’d never admit it, but it’s one of his favourite things to watch, too. He adores the sparkle in your eyes, your creative brain and how excited and animated you get when you come up with new ideas. Sometimes they’re sketchy, or even impossible, which he finds hugely endearing. He also loves how you’ll always check in with him, asking his advice and respecting his opinion.
This weekend he’s running a oneshot at his trailer for the younger members and you. New characters, novel plot, the works. The plan is to create new characters in the morning, and play the game in the afternoon.
This’ll be the first time you’ve been to his home, or seen him anywhere outside of school, and Eddie’s nervous as all fuck.
He couched it as ‘a good opportunity to develop a greater understanding of the game’, but he definitely has an ulterior motive for inviting you here.
So far, he’s taken every opportunity he can to make you laugh, sit near you, even touch you. Creating scenarios where a subtle hug, or even a playful tickle is somehow appropriate. He covers it quickly by immediately doing it to someone else, hoping you won’t spot the bulge in his pants and the fact that he can’t stop looking at you.
He’s not sure for how long he can keep it up. He wants so much more, and it won’t be long before he either loses it, takes it too far, or, worst case scenario, you notice he’s being a total creep and ditch the group because of it.
He’s been trying to muster the balls to ask you out for weeks, practicing lines and imagining scenarios, but he’s found it more difficult to plan than even the most complex of his campaigns.
And although it’s unlikely given the crowd of nerds that’ll be around, he couldn’t miss an opportunity to be in your company. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d manage to get you somewhat alone and do it today.
He’s tidied up the trailer as subtly as he can, doing all the dishes and straightening Wayne’s caps, hoping the others won’t notice and ask him awkward questions. But he’s jittery and anxious, terrified that you’ll take one look at where and how he lives and decide you want nothing more to do with him…
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Eddie has no idea that you’re just as nervous as he is.
You’ve enjoyed the Hellfire campaigns so far, but haven’t really managed to get all that close to the Dungeon Master, much to your chagrin. Sure, the game is enormous fun and you love all the members and how welcoming they’ve been. But the DM? Holy hell, he’s hot as sin, and being able to spend time around the larger-than-life metal-lover only adds to your enjoyment of the sessions. But you can’t imagine it’ll ever go any further than that. You doubt that a geeky D&D novice who he’s hardly spoken to is his idea of the perfect girlfriend…
But god, the physical touches? Christ. It’s as much as you can do to hold it together. You’ve shared a few celebratory hugs, and he’s even tickled you a couple of times, all of which you’ve enjoyed far more than you’d let on, and filed away in your memory for retrieval when you’re alone at night in your bed. But you know that he’s like this with everyone, and are under no illusions that you’re special. So you relish each and every contact, wishing there could be more.
What if he looks at you for too long with those gorgeous, huge, chocolate-brown eyes? And what if you forget how to speak? It’s already happened an embarrassing amount of times, but you’ve managed to pass it off as being stumped because you’re a beginner. You don’t know for how much longer that excuse is gonna fly.
And, if all that wasn’t already enough to send your anxiety levels skyrocketing, you’re also acutely aware that you haven't spent time with any of the group outside of school as yet. You’re worried that you’re going to ruin their social dynamic, or mess up the game. Or embarrass yourself with no easy way to exit, having to wallow in your shame until the mums come back later to pick you all up. Your spiralling makes you realise that although it was really kind of Mrs Wheeler to offer you a lift, you’re now really wishing you’d brought your own car…
All kinds of anxious thoughts are running through your mind, from what if your ideas are stupid, to what if everyone (okay, specifically Eddie) dislikes the cookies you’ve baked??
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Neither of you should’ve worried.
As you enter his trailer, Eddie seems a little flustered, running a ringed hand through his gorgeous chestnut waves and unnecessarily straightening a pile of magazines on the coffee table. He smooths down his (new) black tee (that he totally didn’t buy especially for this occasion), and you pay it no mind, assuming he’s just always like this with visitors, and is excited for the campaign.
You barely glance around Eddie’s home, smiling softly at the trinkets you spot, and offering to help plate up the snacks in the kitchen area. You don’t look uncomfortable, and you certainly don’t pass judgment. Eddie eyes you as indirectly as he can, noticing the unusual skirt you’ve got on (that you totally totally didn’t choose specifically for today). He likes it.
Just like at school, you slot easily into the melee of pencils, paper, dice and snacks. Everyone loves your home baked cookies, including Eddie, and Erica even badgers you for the recipe.
Eddie thinks you couldn’t be any more perfect.
You think this isn’t so bad after all, and relax a little.
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The morning’s character building is going well, the fact that it’s a oneshot not diminishing anyone’s efforts or attention to detail.
You still haven’t quite got the hang of the dice and numbers parts, always asking for Eddie’s help with that. His help, not any of the others, he muses with a certain amount of pride and delight. (Selfishly, part of him secretly hopes you never get the hang of it, and will always need to seek his input.)
With you now added to the group, there aren’t enough seats at Eddie’s modest dining table. Nobody notices. Initially Dustin and Will are deep in a discussion on Eddie’s battered sofa, and Mike and Lucas are rifling through the fridge, both at that ‘hollow legs’ stage of teen development and constantly ravenous.
Your character’s almost done, and you just want to clarify a few things, so you ask across the table,
“Eddie? Can I bring this over for you to check please?”
He waves you over, putting on a fake English accent and saying,
“Of course you may, my dear. You know I’m always happy to assist my flock.”
You chuckle lightly at his endearing foolishness as you get up from your place next to Erica, taking your character sheet over to Eddie for his perusal. Behind you, the younger players all convene at the table to share their progress, and all the seats become filled.
With no free spots near him, and assuming you won’t be here for long, Eddie pats his leg absentmindedly and says, “Sit here, lemme see.”
You end up on his lap, facing sideways at ninety degrees.
You initially turn towards him and bring your sheet between you, but there’s not enough room for him to properly examine it, so you turn the other way and lay it on the table in front of him, turning so your back is to him, your legs straddling one of his knees. He leans forward and begins to check it over, confirming some details and asking for more particulars on others.
Eddie’s been admiring your enthusiasm and level of engagement all morning, and he’s impressed by the depth of information you’ve already managed to accumulate.
You’re absorbed with your new character, getting excited and gesticulating wildly. Ideas bounce easily between you and Eddie, his face smiling softly and his dimples popping as he gets to see you like this.
It doesn’t escape him, however, that you’re also bouncing on… him. He flushes a little, and hopes you don’t perceive it.
As you gesture at a particularly thorny issue on your paper, it dawns on Eddie exactly what parts of you are in contact with him, albeit through multiple layers of fabric. The softness of your thighs and the heat from your core against his leg fully absorb him for a moment, and he has to ask you to repeat yourself. You don’t seem to mind, assuming it was the general clamour in the room that meant he couldn’t hear you. That same clamour covers the sound of him awkwardly clearing his throat and gulping loudly.
It occurs to him that he’s never experienced anything… like this. Occasional hookups in the woods or after gigs at The Hideout are great and everything, but he’s never before felt like he has a literal, real-life angel sitting on his lap.
And you? You are slowly realising how nice Eddie’s lap feels beneath you. It’s warm and solid, and the denim of his dark jeans feels pleasantly rough on the skin of your legs where your skirt’s ridden up. There’s a pressure against your most intimate areas that’s generating a warm feeling of pleasure in your core. You’re trying to concentrate, but it’s not easy.
It takes a few more moments for you to catch up to where Eddie is, and you register that you’re essentially riding Eddie’s thigh each time you move.
Your lips roll inwards and you swallow deeply, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to compose yourself. It doesn’t help, and only serves to focus your attention even more fully on the delicious sensations beneath your legs. This is the closest you’ve ever been to your Dungeon Master, and for the longest time. And you can’t help how flustered it’s making you.
Embarrassed, you cough and go to stand, but quickly see that there’s nowhere for you to go. Eddie scans the room and notices your predicament, and, in a broken voice that’s almost unbearably soft, tells you, “It’s okay, Princess. You can stay here.”
Fuck. A pet name? You enjoyed that, perhaps a little too much. If you were being rational you could put it down to Eddie referencing your new character, who happens to be an aristocratic mage. But right now? Right now, you’re not feeling particularly rational.
You slowly sit back down, but as you do so Eddie shifts his position, causing you to spread your knees a bit wider than they were and land further up his leg, giving you even more contact with his thigh. You hope he didn’t hear the broken little hum that escaped you.
Eddie leans forward and in a voice that’s far too quiet, and far too close to your ear, he asks, “Are you… okay?”
You can barely breathe, and all you can manage in response is a tiny, squeaked, “Mhm.”
Behind you, Eddie takes a stuttering breath in, letting it out slowly before he resumes discussions with everyone else at the table.
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You each become more unfettered as the morning progresses. Further not-so-accidental encounters only serve to increase the tension between you both.
At one point, you lean forwards over the table to get one of the manuals, lifting your butt from his leg. For a moment you hope there won’t be a visible wet patch on your skirt, or on his jeans. But then you wonder whether it would actually be so terrible if there was, and whether it would actually be so terrible if Eddie saw…
Eddie saw. He hums slightly, but it sounds more like a whimper, and he attempts to cover it by clearing his throat for the umpteenth time today.
He wonders whether you’re doing this on purpose, whether you have any idea what you’re doing to him.
As you settle back onto his thigh, one of Eddie’s hands travels to your hip, holding it lightly, just resting it there. A fire travels up that entire side of your body.
You wonder whether he’s doing this on purpose, whether he has any idea what he’s doing to you.
He leans forward to reach for something on the table, and this time brushes his chest against your back for far longer than is necessary. You feel his breathing against your neck speeding up, hot gasps coming from between his lips instead of controlled outbreaths through his nose.
You reach for a die, and as you sit back you half-intentionally push your core down onto Eddie’s leg just a little bit harder. God, he feels so good. And so what if you’ve moved backwards slightly, so your thigh is even further between his legs, and your butt nudges his crotch?
You definitely feel something hard pressing against your ass. The grip on your hip tightens, and Eddie dips his head forward to hide his face and stifle a moan. Christ.
You think you hear him mumble a quiet and stilted, “Sh-it.”
Eddie can barely contain himself, this morning not going at all how he could’ve even dreamed. He had no idea whether you even liked him, and was planning to sound you out and maybe manage to ask if you wanted to do something cheesy like grab milkshakes sometime.
Having you hot and wet on his lap wasn’t even on the edges of the outside of the periphery of his radar. He’s really trying to keep it together, but he’s barely maintaining a grip on his actions.
Attempting to focus, he leans forward again to explain a character point. You turn your head and look into his eyes attentively, whilst simultaneously rocking your hips ever so subtly and chewing on the inside of your bottom lip.
All at once, something shifts. Something big.
Eddie holds your gaze for way too long. Or maybe you hold his.
Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore, as you both silently acknowledge that there’s way more going on here than simple D&D advice.
Simultaneously, you both come to realise that your affections are most definitely reciprocated.
Shit, he likes me.
Fuck, she likes me back.
And then, as your eyes are locked and he sees your pupils blow wide, Eddie loses that tenuous grip.
Suddenly, both of his hands come to your hips, and he presses his forehead against one of your shoulder blades. He grips you tightly and moves you back and forth against him, squeezing, pulling, pushing, dragging. He’s keeping his movements as tiny as possible so as not to rouse the attention of the group, but what he lacks in expansiveness he more than makes up for with strength and intensity.
You think this might genuinely be the most erotic thing you’ve ever done with your clothes on. You’re hot and wet, and you barely care that you’re in a room full of people, supposedly playing a nerdy game.
Eddie keeps moving you. One exquisite movement spreads your sopping folds in your underwear, and your mouth drops open in a gasp, hand gripping the edge of the rickety table. You try to disguise your movements by shoving the end of a pencil into your mouth and hunching over your paperwork.
Eddie totally notices, and stills you. His warm palms continue to press against your hips, his strong fingertips digging into your flesh. Instead of continuing the back and forth movements, he pulls you down as hard as he can onto his lap whilst outwardly retaining his composure, turning the garbled sounds coming from his throat into encouraging noises for the group.
The two of you can barely focus anymore. Eddie hasn’t let his hands travel anywhere above the tabletop, lest his actions be seen by the others, but if your expression is even half as flustered as Eddie’s is red, somebody is going to notice something. And soon.
You take a couple of deep, steadying breaths.
You’ve already completed your character, so you decide to do a faux check in with Eddie, asking, not entirely innocently,
“Eddie? Is there anything else you’d want me to… take off?”
Turning, you add, even less subtly,
“What should I do now, Master?”
Eddie’s face screws up and his jaw clenches, and you feel the rock of his hips as he bucks his hips up underneath you, pressing his hardness into your flesh and muffling a grunt into your shoulder.
His head snaps back up suddenly and his voice becomes clear and piercing, as he inhales quickly and declares to the room, waving a hand,
“Okay, lunchtime! Everybody out!! You guys need some fresh air and I need a break. I don’t wanna see you for at least an hour, and you’d better come back with pizza! Goddit?”
The teens comply, bustling out the door, a few of them eye-rolling and grumbling something about how this is almost like being at home with their parents.
They’re still leaving as Eddie moves his face so close to you that you can feel his breath in your hairline, and his soft, pink lips tickle the edge of your ear.
In a low, velvety voice, he murmurs, in a tone that’s somehow both challenging and pleading,
“Please Princess, turn around and say that to my face...”
You smirk, and reach behind you to pick up a D12.
With all the sultriness you can muster, you raise your eyebrows and indicate for him to take it. He opens his hand, and you place it down, the tips of your fingers lightly skimming the hot, damp skin of his palm.
Looking into his eyes again, you’re relieved to discover that your power of speech remains entirely intact, as you murmur, with more confidence than you thought you possessed,
“Okay, Master. How about this? You roll, and the result is how many kisses you have to give me...”
Eddie swallows and almost chokes, sitting up straight and gently lobbing the die across the mess of paper and writing implements. His chocolate eyes don’t leave yours as it rolls and comes to a stop in the centre crease of one of his manuals. He struggles with the internal conflict of never wanting to break your gaze and a deep desire to check the number.
He has no idea where the rest of today, let alone this, is going, and he’s grateful he has at least the next hour in which to find out. But he does know one thing:
He’s never been so desperate to roll a 12 in his entire fucking life.
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Thanks so much for reading!
(This might become part of an anthology of D&D-related adventures - let me know if you’d like to see more!)
Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this, it’s honestly like throwing breadcrumbs and roses for your writers 😃🥰
My masterlist
I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 😃
Tags: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @wonderlanddreamer
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almostempty · 3 months ago
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The more you suffer
Self Esteem Part 4 | Pairing: fuckboy!Joel x f!reader
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Hey y’all, it’s me back with more farm-to-table Joel smut. Took a while to figure this one out, but I hope you’re hungry horny bc it’s lengthy and full o’ fuckin’. Date Night Dave is back by popular demand, and fuckboy Joel finally experiences a consequence??? 
Warnings/tags: fuckboy!Joel, gratuitous smut, pwp, alcohol use, unprotected piv sex (that has no physical consequences bc it’s fiction and I like it that way), oral sex, public blow job, cock warming in a car, reoccuring guest appearance by dom!dave, date night dave inspo from the cartier campaign bc that's rich dave right??? au/ooc dave york is single/rich/mysterious and down to clown, jealous!joel, soft!joel, cuck!joel, jorkin’!joel, some angsty bits, no use of y/n, voyeur/exhibitionistish, light d/s dynamics, light (?) degradation/humiliation, praise kink, AU modern/no outbreak, overall just a lot of sex with some feelings in between, no beta blame all mistakes on me/adhd/insomnia 
Notes: please leave feedback! Tell me all ur thots! 
Thanks: to everyone who has read parts 1-3, that means the world to me 
Dedicated to @gothcsz for the punishment inspo and @auteurdelabre for encouraging my delusions , and @strangergraphics for dividers
WC: 12.1K  AO3: HERE | Masterlist: Here
Part 1: Self Esteem
Part 2: Want You Bad
Part 3: Kick and Scream
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All I can fuckin’ think about. 
It’s like it was a curse, not a confession. Joel’s voice plays on a loop in your mind. For days. You hear it when you wake up, against your will. It’s a reflex at this point. You hear it when your mind drifts at work, when Katie blathers on about who knows what on your brunch date, and it gets loudest at night when you can’t sleep. It repeats and repeats and repeats. Taunting you, describing you, mocking you. Leading you on. 
Occasionally, you play the tape all the way through. Finishing the rest of the scene. Starting with 'All I can fuckin’ think about' all the way up to when that coward skipped out the door at the first glimpse of that thread connecting you. The first sign of something laced with vulnerability. 
Every minute that passes since you’ve been cursed with Joel Miller’s enigmatic mid-coitus confession is torture. Slow, painful, agony. Time drags so excruciatingly slowly that you feel like months have passed, but it’s only been three days since you were cursed with this affliction when you get a text. Well, it’s practically a fucking email. A business memo. 
Dave: Hey, I wanted to follow up. I enjoyed our date and would love to see you again. I’m out of town for the next 72 hours, but I’d like to take you out for drinks again when I return. I can pick you up again Thursday night, same time? Or, if you’d rather, I’ll be available earlier in the evening on Friday. If you’d like to do dinner. 
Dave: I’ll be honest, though; I’d prefer to see you sooner than later. 
Holy shit. 
You reread the message at least three times as you sink onto your sofa. Your stomach flips at his second message, before you start trying to pick it apart, anyway.
It’s almost too…formal? Cordial? Maybe you’re just used to only getting cryptic sentence fragments from Joel, who texts like he’s rocking a Nokia 3310. Because it’s also so direct. Dave is not afraid to communicate clearly and express his interest in you. It’s not overtly sexual, but not nonchalant, Goldilocks approves. 
You grin at the phone in your hand, and your gaze veers off until you’re staring at the wall, projecting the replay of your date with Dave like a movie at the drive-in. His mouth grazing your ear as he murmured filthy thoughts to you at the table, his fingers skating up your thigh, the taste of his cock sliding along your tongue, and the sounds that started from deep in his chest before he came down your throat. 
It’s not like Dave wasn’t memorable, but damn, you had been wallowing in your feelings over Joel like it was your full-time job. Fuck that. Dave is a welcome distraction. You agree to drinks and let him know you’re looking forward to seeing him, before swapping to your text thread with Katie. 
You: is it just because the bar is in hell for men, or is it appropriate for my pussy to flood over a man with a plan??? 
Katie: Can it be both? 
Katie: Oh my god
Katie: PLEASE tell me it’s the bathroom blowjob guy
Katie: Is he planning a second date? 
Katie: I told you! Green flags! 
You: maybe 🙃
……..
Knowing you have a date to look forward to eases the sting. The memory of Joel walking out the door. You can still hear his fucking bedroom voice in your ear, but the chokehold loosens slightly. You fill the next couple of days with anything and everything to make the time pass faster. Too busy to have the time to check your phone or, worse, text Joel. 
Dave continues to be everything Joel isn’t. Communicative, confirming your plans the morning of, punctual, pulling up precisely on time, and a gentleman greeting you with a compliment and opening the car door for you. You know you've let the demented demons within you get a little too comfortable when the green flags almost give you the ick. Katie’s voice echoes in your ears, and you suck it up.
It turns out Distraction Dave is just as hot as you remember–even without a jealous Joel-shaped ogre stirring your loins from across the room. He exudes a debonair charm with his tailored, quiet luxury brand look. You feel a wave of insecurity lurch in your chest before you realize he’s got you on his arm like you’re a designer accessory. He’s pleased to be seen with you as he guides you to your table in the dimly lit jazz-style lounge. It puts you at ease when he takes the lead in making decisions. 
The cocktails are strong, but you’ve only had a few sips before. It’s Dave who has you feeling warm in the face. He’s flirty but doesn’t push. He doesn’t assume you will get handsy under the table again. In your twisted brain, that only emboldens you to make a move. He’s still talking, but you aren’t really listening, distracted by his neck and lips and how close you are to each other. 
Close enough that it’s no stretch to slide your hand from your lap to his. You drag your hand slowly, up up up. When the corner of his mouth curls into a smirk, you feel your pulse jump. The atmosphere fades, and the noise blurs as your senses lock onto him. Dave’s brow twitches just before his hand covers yours. 
“There she is,” his smile is devilishly handsome with a dark glint in his eyes, “my dirty girl.” His voice, his words, and the heat of his hand sprinkle horny fairy dust over you. “Thought about you all week,” he confesses. 
All I can fuckin’ think about. 
You swallow your intrusive Joel-voiced thought. Flush it away into the sewer. 
“Me?” you ask coyly, batting your lashes. He hums, affirming. His hand squeezes yours, and heat starts to pool between your legs. “What about me?” your eyes have a sparkle in them as you sip your drink. He leans closer to you, nose grazing the soft skin behind your ear, and your eyes flutter shut. 
“Thought about your pretty face,” he tips your chin towards him with his free hand, so close he’s all you can see. “Thought about these lips,” he gently kisses you, retreating before you can escalate the intensity. You pout at the distance when he draws back and smirks at your needy expression. “Thought I might not hear back from you with how distracted you were by your not-ex not-stalking you last time.” 
An ache flares in your heart before you drown it with irritation. Garbled words stick in your throat. Something sharp and defensive tries to slash through, but Dave continues, unbothered before you can get anything out of your mouth. 
“Mostly,” his crisp, rich scent washes over you as he dips into dot kisses up your neck, dissolving your defenses. His warm breath tickles your ear as he husks in a low tone, “I thought about how this greedy throat felt trying to swallow my cock,” his fingers wrap around your neck for emphasis, and he feels your quiet whimper of a response. 
Your cheeks burn. He claims your lips with a hungry kiss that has your moans vibrating in your throat beneath his hand. It’s urgent and needy how your tongues, teeth, and lips collide. When his other hand finally releases yours, and he possessively cups either side of your jaw in his large palms, you’re lost momentarily. Consumed by the sensation of Dave’s tongue sliding against yours and the desire to crawl into his lap and straddle him here in the booth. 
You shove away the thought of Joel that flashes through your mind and double down on your desire for Dave. You bite sharply at his bottom lip, roughly knocking your faces together as you press your body into his, demanding more intensity as you make out.
When you break apart, you feel the crazed expression on your face as you smirk at the man in front of you. “I’ll give you more to think about,” you say more breathlessly than you intended, but the message is still clear. 
You dive back in, licking a hot stripe up his neck and biting at his earlobe. Your hand is back on task, groping for Dave’s thick erection when he stops you again. He tugs your hand away, and you huff. 
Dave laughs, enjoying the frustration on your features as he tucks your hair back behind your ear. He’s rudely composed while you’re on fire. 
“Finish your drink,” he tilts his head towards the antique glass in front of you. You down the rest in an impolite gulp, wiping at the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Dave shakes his head softly, a mix of mild disbelief and something headier. “That’s a good girl,” he acquiesces you for following his direction with gusto. 
His praise drips over you like warm honey, easing the confusion you felt at his rejection of your touch. He answers your unspoken question, “We can stay here, dirty girl, but I’d prefer to take you home so I can get my mouth on you this time.” The close quarters in the booth have you nearly nose to nose. A smirk spreads across his face when your lips part at his proposal. 
“Let’s go,” you respond quickly, it’s an easy decision. 
He takes you to his condo nearby. It’s modern, masculine, and decorated but not very revealing of anything more personal about him. He wastes no time leading you to the bedroom, and you’re just as eager to get him into bed. 
But when your impatient hands start tugging at his clothes, he grips you harshly, fingertips digging into the flesh of your upper arms, pinning them to your sides, essentially immobilizing you as he holds you back. He has this look to him like he knows something that you don’t, and that’s enough to make you pause. 
“She’s hungry, hm?” it’s phrased like a question, but you don’t think he’s expecting a real answer. His eyes rove over you before he relaxes his grip. 
“Sit.” 
You obey without a thought, perching on the edge of the perfectly made bed before him. “That’s a good girl,” his voice has a raw edge to it, and the phrase shoots straight to your core. You fight to keep still, overwhelmed with the sudden need to please him and convinced he wants to see how closely you’ll follow his orders. 
Dave’s eyes are full of lust and something darker as he studies you, his presence looming, commanding, and teasing. “Look at you, ready for more.” His tone is mocking but coated with approval that tingles along your spine. He grabs your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze again, “You liked the risk last time. Coming on my fingers under the table.” 
You nod, and he grants you a flash of a smile. It’s gorgeous but restrained and tampered back down. 
"And you liked being on your knees for me. You liked taking my cock down your throat, didn’t you?” 
You nod again, but his fingers dig into your cheeks slightly, a silent reprimand. His voice drops to a low growl, “Use your words.” Your eyes widen before you blink away the mixture of shock and thrill. 
"Yes,” you get the word out in a quietly, “I liked it," you manage to add a hint of confidence. 
The corner of his mouth twitches. Satisfaction flickers in his eyes. “Of course you did,” he strokes your cheek gently, “you did such a good job taking care of me last time.” His adoration flutters across your skin, spreading heat. “But it’s my turn now, isn’t it?” 
The wicked smirk on his face makes you feel lightheaded as he lowers himself in front of you. Your knees part reflexively to let him move closer. “That’s a good girl. Spread these legs for me,” he continues as he runs his hands along your smooth legs until he’s bunching up the bottom of your dress.
Without wasting a second, his mouth is on you, kissing the soft crease of your thighs and sucking an open mouth kiss over the damp fabric covering your core. His hands anchor your thighs, thumbs caressing your flesh in a mockery of tenderness as his mouth delivers a sinful symphony sucking at your skin, nipping at you in a way that makes your thighs tense beneath his grip and spewing dirty thoughts. 
“So wet for me,” he mutters as he raises in front of you, pulling you to stand so he can strip you bare. Your arms hang submissively by your sides as his hand moves slowly, down your jaw, wrapped around your throat, down your chest, pausing to marvel at the sight of your tits in his palms and how your mouth parts when he kneads them in his hands. 
You wonder if you should feel vulnerable as he proceeds with his inspection, but the precision of his movements keeps you lulled. Dave’s hand slips between your legs and his fingers trace the slick seam of your cunt. You can’t help the whiny groan you respond with as you strain to remain still for him. 
He snickers at your struggle, then makes it worse. “You’re dripping, you know that?” the mocking tone in his voice does something just right to you, “such a needy slut.” Oh. That has your thighs flexing, tightening around his hand as he continues to torture you, parting the lips of your pussy with his fingers, drawing circles too slowly. 
“Have to stop myself from bending you over now and fucking you hard and fast.” Your body floods with need at the idea, dripping around his fingers and causing your hips to jerk.
“Please,” you whisper. You figure it’s polite enough. 
"Ah, ah," he warns, pulling back. "I know you’d like that, dirty girl.” 
Yes! You consider spinning around and giving him your best tempting display, hoping he’ll give in, but he seems to be a step ahead. “Lay down. You’ll get what you want.” 
Dave has a wicked gleam in his eyes as you spread out across the bed for him. He’s deliberate when he gets between your legs, spreading them wide and skipping the teasing kisses this time. He drags his tongue from your entrance to your throbbing clit before his plush lips wrap around you. The suction and pressure are dizzying, and you fill the room with panting and moaning. 
Your hips chase his mouth as he uses his tongue expertly, alternating between lazy circles and sharp flicks. The pleasure builds as he works at you. His technique gradually becomes indelicate, using everything he’s got in a way that makes you feel wild. His nose nudges at your clit as he dips further down. He allows you to keep rolling your hips gently as you rock against his chin before he pulls back. 
"Look at you, already unraveling for me," he says, voice drenched in amusement. "So desperate. She wants it all, hm?"
“Yes,” you whine, and your moans keep flowing as the pressure coils tighter within you. 
“Good,” he asserts, “come for me.” It’s a demand that has you gasping when he punctuates it with his fingers plunging inside of you. If you weren’t so enraptured by the growing pleasure and his voice, you might nitpick the logistics of coming on command–but he gives you no room for debate. 
Persuasively compelling your orgasm to hit as his fingers fuck into you and he sucks your clit into his furnace of a mouth. He doesn’t relent. The intensity of his mouth and fingers overwhelms you through the violent flash of pleasure and remains consistent as you writhe and contract, coming back down to earth. 
He's working you back up before you can fully recover or process his praise. Coaxing you toward another peak, capitalizing on his command of your mind and body. Every flick of his tongue pushes you higher until you’re gripping at the bed to stay in place. 
The ache for release teeters on unbearable as Dave’s groan buzzes through you. You tremble, sticking to the sheets with the sweat of desperation. You’re not cognizant of how you’re pleading with Dave, “Yes, yes, yes!”
But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he stops, sitting up. 
“Hey!” you’re on edge and disoriented. 
"On your hands and knees," he orders, rougher now. "I’ve had my fill."
Oh shit. 
You scramble to obey, face hot with frustration and need as you arch in presentation for him. His hands spread your cheeks so he can get a good, long look at the sight of your glossy, swollen cunt. 
"That’s good, dirty girl, so eager," he chuckles, lining himself up against your entrance, teasing you deliciously with the slightest stretch. "You want me to fuck you hard, don’t you?"
"Yes," you breathe, the word spilling out before you form a thought.
"That’s what I thought." He pushes inside you in one smooth, hard thrust, and you gasp as he fills you completely, stretching you wide. He pauses only long enough to feel your walls rippling with contractions around the length of him, confirming his prediction. “Yeah, knew this tight little cunt would take me so well.” 
You can only hum mindlessly in response before he sets a rough pace. Gripping firmly at your hips, he keeps you in place as he drives into you, grunting with the force as his hips smack against your ass, adding more lewd noise to the moans and single-syllable words you cry out. 
You’re slipping away in the feeling of him pounding into you from behind. So mindless as your body bounces off of him that, for a split second, your tortured mind drifts to Joel. Joel’s voice and his filthy mouth, how he always gets you to beg for more.  You tense up, eyes wide, hoping you haven’t said his name in your stupor.  
Mercifully, Dave doesn’t seem to react. He continues at the same pace until his hand slides up your spine, gripping the back of your neck as he knocks your legs wider with his, angling you lower and thrusting even deeper inside of you. It’s a sharp, blinding need to come that possesses you. 
“Don’t stop,” you plead between gasping breaths.  
He gives you a slap for that. The sting has your eyes nearly rolling back like a caricature. Dave is launched closer to his own release because of your desperation, your ass jiggling, and his view of his cock disappearing inside of you over and over in time with your moans. 
He gives you exactly what you need as you shift, letting your weight fall into your shoulders so you can snake your hand back to swirl your fingers over your clit with precision, quickly bringing yourself to the peak. You fall apart around him as he grips your hips forcefully, using you as he needs while waves of pleasure debilitate you. 
He doesn’t slow down, pounding into you until his own release verges on crashing into him, and with a low, strained sound, he pulls out. The wet sounds of his fist are drowned out by the groan you both make as you collapse without his support, and he comes across your ass and lower back.
For a moment, neither of you moves, both panting as you come down from the high. Then, with a satisfied hum, he leans down and presses a soft, almost tender kiss to your shoulder. "Good girl," he murmurs, a soothing balm after the intensity. And, when he returns with a warm washcloth to clean you up, you feel glowy and drunk in his bed. 
Dave drives you home, at your request, and walks you to your door like a gentleman. He repeats that he would be happy to see you again.
 And he does. 
You both get what you want out of the arrangement. Neither of you wants a relationship and has an interest in an emotional connection. Dave isn’t always available, but he’s communicative and arranges to pick you up once or twice a week when he’s free. 
He always offers to take you for drinks or dinner at his favorite spots. Some nights, you just ask him to take you straight to his perfectly made bed. The nights you desperately need him to fuck Joel’s voice out of your head. 
It works, for the most part, as the weeks pass. Katie rolls her eyes at you when you claim you prefer your weekly dick appointments to a real relationship, but her judgment fades when you give her a juicy detail or two about the things Dave says to you in bed. You’re grateful to have an easy out to redirect her because you don’t feel strong enough to let her see the festering wound in your chest, still refusing to let go of Joel. 
Most days, it’s dull enough to manage. It’s more of a cruel joke when you hear Joel’s voice in your head first thing upon waking. When your phone buzzes and your heart stutters, you laugh bitterly at yourself for thinking it could be that stubborn asshole. It’s never him. You don’t hear from him. You don’t reach out. You consider blocking him altogether but can’t bring yourself to do it. You don’t see him on any nights out with Katie. 
You bite your tongue when you see Tommy at another karaoke night. You can’t ask about Joel, nobody knew you had been seeing each other, if that’s what you could even call it. You strategically keep yourself on the opposite end of the table from Tommy, hoping to stay out of earshot if he mentions the man haunting your thoughts. 
But as you drink your feelings one after another, they evolve. Anger swirls as you think of texting Joel and calling him out for being a gutless wonder. You pull out your phone and open your messages, rereading the last text from him. 
Joel: Miss me? 
Out of context, the two words trip you up momentarily. Even though you’ve reread them more times than you’d like to admit. And replayed that night more than you can stand. You don’t type anything to him. Your anger still burns in your gut. 
You attempt to engage with your friends, but it’s all for show. You can’t stop glancing towards Tommy, the door, or your phone. Your anger converts into something you can’t escape. 
After one more drink, your vision keeps getting blurry, not exactly from the booze. 
You try to blink back the tears in your waterline, excusing yourself from the group and dashing for the bathroom. Something messy and hurt and possesses you. Destabilizing you entirely as you feel yourself breaking down.
Weaving between bodies until you’re slamming into a stall and collapsing into a wobbly-limbed mess. Ugly sobs rip through your diaphragm, stirring up the most vulnerable fears and a cruel internal voice. Why are you hung up on someone that treated you like shit? You think it’s what you deserve? You can’t even move on? You still can’t stand up for yourself? 
Someone else enters the bathroom, and you try to hold yourself together, but they catch your sobs and ask if you’re alright. You do your best to assure the stranger that you’re okay. 
“If he makes you feel like that, he ain’t worth it, hon’,” she offers before leaving you with your thoughts in the bathroom. 
You know she meant it to be helpful, but it knocks you deeper into your feelings. You’re upset, and for what? Does he even care? Has he actually thought of you even once? He isn’t worth it. He isn’t worth it, and you still can’t stop the tears pathetically streaming down your face. It hurts even worse to know you shouldn’t care. 
You stand up, and your head spins, not just from the emotional agony but from the alcohol. When you not-so-gracefully emerge and see yourself in the mirror, you nearly lock yourself back in the stall and vow to live here now. You can’t return to the table with your eyes that swollen and red and your mascara rubbed away. 
You don’t want to be seen at all. You want to be left in bed to wrestle with your self-esteem and crippling grief over something that never existed. 
You pull out your phone, only dropping it once before sending off your hail Mary, hoping Dave can pick you up. 
Where?
The response is almost instant. You send off the name of the bar and do your best to make yourself look presentable before marching back towards your friends. You give Katie a quick hug from the side, yell-whispering into her ear that Dave is picking you up and you’ll text her tomorrow, before you slip away as quickly as you can manage. Bouncing off the back of a chair on your mission to get outside. 
You lean against the cool brick wall, eyes closed, taking deep breaths of the crisp fall air as you wait for your ride. You can hear the bass from another club across the street and the laughs and shouts from the gaggle of smokers gathered further up the block. You feel syrupy and wrung out, but you aren’t going to be sick. You just need to get home. 
“You alright?” A smooth voice cuts into your thoughts. You jerk your head more dramatically than you intended, taking in Tommy’s concerned brown eyes with a sigh. Of course. 
“Just waiting for my ride,” you do your best to act sober and emotionally stable. Whatever that looks like. 
“I’ll wait with you,” he decides. 
Your shoulders drop. You must not be very convincing. “Really, I’m fine,” you add, leaning your head against the wall. 
“Right,” he steps back but doesn’t leave. He lights a cigarette and allows you the silence as he smokes alongside you. It’s kind, you suppose, not wanting to leave you alone on the street. But he’s the last person you want to be next to right now. Or maybe second to last, you realize when he laughs and steps forward with a wave, drawing your attention to a scene that stops your heart. 
A familiar truck pulls up to the curb in front of you, and you take back your earlier assessment. You feel like you are gonna be sick. Your stomach lurches, and you feel the panic rising in your throat. 
“What are you doing here?” Tommy shouts, “Isn’t it past your bedtime?” 
You squeeze your eyes shut, like maybe if you keep them closed, you’ll blend in with the wall. 
“Just giving a friend a ride,” Joel responds gruffly from inside his truck. Your plan immediately fails. His voice compels you to look at him. 
Some unspoken fucking sibling communication happens between the two of them, and then Joel is staring at you. Unreadable. “You getting in?” he hollers at you. 
“No,” you mumble barely audible. You clear your throat, feeling hoarse, and try again. “I’m waiting for my ride.” 
“I think it’s here, darlin’,” Tommy says as he steps towards you to usher you towards Joel’s truck. You shrug him off, pulling out your phone to check your messages. To see how long it’s been since you told Dave your location. 
You didn’t. 
You texted Joel. 
You’re mortified. No, no, no. This cannot be real. You didn’t text this hot nightmare. There’s no way he would’ve responded. 
He did. 
Joel: Where? 
You’re still shaking your head and trying to wrap your head around the situation. You’re the architect of your own worst nightmare now. A disaster asking to be rescued by the guy who knows exactly how to twist the knife in your gut. You’re spiraling inwards. 
Completely unaware of the exchange between Joel and Tommy. Or how gone, you look to them. 
“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters at Tommy as he comes round to help you into the truck. “What’d she have?” 
“Hey,” Tommy defends, “I just came outside, and she said she was waitin’ on her ride. I don’t know shit.” 
“Figures,” he’s still grumbling as he shuts the door. You’re in shock as you sit in the cab of Joel’s truck. The only other time you were inside was the night you met. 
“Shit,” you curse at yourself as Joel gets in and pulls away from the curb. 
He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say anything. Just drives in silence. Through every light, all the way across town. 
“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, “I didn’t mean to text you.” It hangs in the thick silence. You focus so hard on keeping your breathing steady, tamping down the sobs fighting to break through, that you barely register the tears that stream down your face. 
You hear him sigh before his hand rests on your thigh, “What happened?” he croaks like it hurts to speak.  
You’re reeling at that. Hearing him sigh like you’re a hindrance, like your emotions are a burden like it pains him to ask. You don’t have the clarity of mind to filter yourself. 
“Nothing,” you snap, glaring at his hand. “Don’t pretend like you care,” you dig, refusing to look at him, hot tears still rolling down your cheek. He doesn’t ask again. But he doesn’t pull his hand back, and you don’t move it until he’s shifting into park. 
Against your better judgment, you turn to face him. Your gut twists at the sight of him so close to you. After you’ve been left alone with your thoughts for so long. You can’t read his stoic face or his beautiful dark eyes. 
“Thank you,” you murmur, trying not to linger on how insane you must seem. Asking for a ride, snapping at him, and then thanking him. You cringe at yourself, trying to swipe the tears under your eyes away like that’ll make you seem more put together. 
You hop out of the cab and take a second to steady yourself. Joel’s door slams as he rounds the front of the truck to steady you. 
“Don’t,” you mutter. He puts an arm around you as if it’s natural, and you still. 
“Baby,” he says, low and soothing, “let me help.” 
Baby. It stirs the stupid butterflies in your stomach until your brain catches up. 
“No,” you shove him away. It’s weak, but he steps back.
“C’mon,” he urges you, “let’s just get you inside.” 
“No,” you still don’t move. Afraid you’ll fall apart if you try. You need him to leave before you come apart. If he touches you, you know you’ll beg him to fuck your pain away. 
“I can’t do it again.” You muster your courage, but when you look at his face, a soft sob finally breaks through, and your body shudders, gasping for a breath, “Please.”
His face darkens. His arms hang limply at his sides before his fists tighten. The street is quiet in the dark. “You think I’m here to fuck you?” 
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?” it’s a genuine question, but it rings harsh in the night with your uneven breathing. You fumble, dropping your keys when you finally dig them out of your bag, swearing under your breath. He grabs them before you and offers them to you, dropping them into your hand, avoiding your touch. 
You mumble thanks and stalk towards your door. He stays put, watching until you’re inside before he turns to leave. 
……
You get a text from Katie the following morning. 
Katie: Girl, are you alive?
Katie: You wanna tell me why Dave looked an awful lot like Joel?
You: not really. did Tommy say something?
Katie: No?? I was trying to get a glimpse of your man when I saw you getting into Joel’s truck??
You: I texted the wrong number 
Katie: ….
Katie: Uh, unless you’ve got him in your phone as Daddy Joel (real) I don’t think those letters are that close together babe
Katie: WAIT 
Katie: When did you get Joel’s number? He barely talks to anyone! 
Kate: Don’t answer that, I’m coming over and bribing you with a hangover cure bacon egg n’ cheese and you’re telling me everything 
You: and a cold brew? 
Katie: Duh 
…………..
“Fuck,” Joel grumbles when he hears a knock at his door. He knows exactly what this is. He lets Tommy in without a word and tromps back to his kitchen to get another coffee before his interrogation starts. He sits at the table, and levels the darkest “don’t start with me” glare he can, but his idiot brother has always been immune. 
…………….
“What do you mean?” you whine at Katie from your side of the couch. “There’s no use trying to talk to him; he’s emotionally constipated, and he only wants one thing from me.” 
“Maybe there’s more to him,” she suggests vaguely. 
“You were the one telling me to drop him and move on anyway!” you argue like a child. 
“I didn’t know it was him!”
“How does that change anything?” you glare at her. Katie chews at her lip while you devour the last of your breakfast sandwich. It’s cold. You had been so wrapped up in your recollection of the ups and downs of your non-relatioinship with Joel you forgot to finish eating while it was fresh. It feels like a stupid metaphor about how he forgot to take care of yourself when you were drawn into his toxic cycle. 
You thought confessing would reduce the weight on your chest. You weren’t prepared for Katie to add to your delusion. 
“I don’t think it’s really my place to share his… baggage,” she muses. 
“Since when?” you cut her a nasty look. 
“I just think,” she pauses, and you ball up the foil from your sandwich and throw it at her, earning you a glare, “It’s complicated.” 
“Okay, Avril Lavigne,” you mock. “You’re the worst, and this is not helpful! You’ve gotta give me something. Is he married? Am I the mistress? Is he a felon? A drug dealer?” 
“You think I wouldn’t warn you about any of those?” 
“I don’t know. I never thought you’d be taking his side,” you say in a serious tone. 
“I’m not defending him!” She holds up her hands in surrender. “You deserve better than fuckboy behavior from a grown man.” 
“Thanks.” 
“It’s just,” he considers her words as your eyes narrow, “it seemed like it meant more than that. You were practically glowing half the summer.” 
“And a lifeless zombie the rest of the time?” 
“A cute zombie?” she shrugs. “I’m serious, though. Do you think he’d show up to rescue anyone else–no questions asked? That fast?” her words get softer.
“I don’t know,” you mutter, draping yourself miserably along the end of the couch, trying not to think about the times Joel bent you over the armrest. “I don’t know him at all, really.” 
“Do you want to?” 
Yes! A naive part of you shouts, hopeful and bright, blind to the reality of your situation. Oh, no. Definitely not. You dropkick that idea right to the back of your mind. Ignoring the way it screams until it’s muffled by the dejected, logical thoughts. “I can’t risk it,” you respond weakly. 
Katie hears it. The ever-resilient part of you that tries to stay one step ahead cracks and lets the vulnerability out. You refuse to worsen the abandonment wound, but it’s entangled in your heart. 
Katie doesn’t bring it up again. She spends the rest of the day with you, ordering takeout and putting on your favorite movies, like you’re going through a breakup. It helps.
…………
Life lulls back into the same routine. Except now, when you wake up, it’s Joel’s face–not his voice–that haunts you. The 
Instead of Joel’s voice haunting you when you wake up–it’s his face. The way he looked hurt. The way he dropped your keys into your hand
when you begged him not to come inside. It sinks like a stone in your stomach that you carry all day as you go through the motions. It feels hollow, but you persist. Your friends lighten the dark fog. Dave’s praise soothes the ache, and he fucks you so hard you can forget almost forget. 
But Joel lurks in your walls, in your skin, and you swear you see his headlights sweep over your living room, but it’s never his truck. At least not in the two weeks since karaoke night. You’ll never understand the trickery that makes misery slow time, but every day has felt bloated and stretched. 
Sick of feeling sick, the following week, when Joel’s face pops up, the second you open your eyes, you curse him. Spite simmers in your bones. If he had something to say, he had all the time in the world to show up and say it. Channeling the malaise into something darker, you let your anger renew your energy. 
All I can fuckin’ think about MY ASS. 
You’re itching for the distraction by the time you’re getting ready for your date with Dave this evening. You know you’re going to be a menace, and it’ll turn him on, which already has you smirking to yourself. You’re almost ready when you hear a knock at your door. You frown, checking the time. Dave’s usually precisely on time, not early. Close enough, you figure, slinging your bag over your shoulder and heading for the door. 
You swing it open, ready to see Dave, but your jaw drops when you see Joel. He’s caught off guard by your date night look and hesitates as his eyes sweep over your little black dress. Without a thought you slam the door in his face. 
What the fuck?
He knocks again, loudly, as if you weren’t standing on the other side with your mouth gaping like a fish. But the pounding brings you back to reality. 
You open the door and start before he even has a chance. 
“It’s been three weeks since I last saw you, Miller, and that was an accident! I don’t know how long it was before that, but now you’re gonna show up and ruin another date? I don’t fucking think so. You’ve got five minutes. Spit it out. What are you doing here?” 
He blinks dumbly for a moment. Taken aback by your words and still breathless at seeing you all dolled up for your date. You cross your arms, unimpressed so far. That’s somehow worse. The irritated look on your face makes him want to fuck the attitude out of you. He takes a deep breath, trying to refocus before he starts. 
“You’re right,” his voice is gentler than you remember–It’s criminal really, “I shouldn’t have waited.” He pauses and swallows thickly. Is he nervous? That’s new. “I’m not great with words, and I haven’t given you any reason to give me the time of day. I’m here to apologize.” 
“Go on then.” 
“It wasn’t right of me to run from you–”
“Which time?” you won’t let him get through this easily. Not now. He lets that sink in. The vulnerability makes his eyes shine. You can sense the charge in the air like he might just run right now. 
“Every time,” he admits. “Didn’t think you’d let me back in every time, but I couldn’t stop myself from trying. Knew you wanted me too.” You scoff at that. Amused at his approach. You see his shoulders tense before he lets your disapproval roll off of him. “Convinced myself, it was fine, or you’d stop answerin’ the door. Thought it’d be easier–” 
“If I did your dirty work for you?” you accuse sharply. “If it was my responsibility to hold you accountable?” 
“Thought it’d be easier if you hated me, I guess,” he runs his hand over the back of his neck. You stop seeing red and take him in. He smells fresh, like some over-fragranced body wash, his nearly dry hair brushed back. You hate how you feel the urge to soften just at the sight of him. “Figured you’d move on,” he rumbles. 
“Didn’t seem like you wanted me to move on when you crashed my date.” 
“It wasn’t my plan,” he mutters. Right. You raise your eyebrows. “You–you just drive me fuckin’ crazy. I don’t know why. But I can’t get you outta my fuckin’ head.”
That makes you smile. His confession willfully given on your front doorstep. In the daylight, without your body seducing his. You drive him crazy. 
Dave’s car pulls up behind Joel’s truck. “Time’s up,” you say, “as much as I really enjoy this 90s romcom-style confession, and I really do, I’ve got a date, and I don’t like to keep my dates waiting.” 
“Right,” Joel takes you in like he might never see you again, “he something serious?” he nods towards Dave’s car. 
“Why, you planning to ask me out?” you’re not afraid to be direct anymore. Nothing to lose. 
“Thought I’d just start with the apology.” 
“Good.” 
“You accept?” 
You laugh loudly, full-chested. It’s a release, but it ends mockingly. “You’re gonna have to try harder than this to show you really mean it.” 
“Yes, ma’am,” he nods, turning to leave. A wicked idea flashes through your mind as you watch him turn and look past him towards Dave, who is watching you intently. 
“Wait,” you call out, and Joel spins immediately. “I’ll consider your apology tonight on one condition.” He waits to hear more, and your grin sends a shiver down his spine. He’s in for something, and if it’s anything close to what he deserves, it’s gonna hurt. 
…………
You slide into your favorite corner booth, in between Dave and Joel. You admire them both in the dim light. You haven’t been able to keep the nefarious smirk off your face since you proposed your idea. Dave was an easy sell, just as you knew he would be, with minimal questions and clear on the role you wanted him to play. You weren’t surprised that Joel agreed, but you’re skeptical that he’ll be able to keep his cool. 
“You’re coming with us,” you told him like it was a command, “you’re gonna watch, and you’re gonna prove to me that you can behave.” 
He seems to keep it together through your date. He’s quiet, only accepting a drink when you tell him not to be weird. You know the jealousy is screaming beneath the surface. He does his best to rein it in, but when Dave taunts him with sly comments or touches you so freely, you catch his jaw tensing and his hands balling into tight fists, but he doesn’t say anything. 
Dave exudes confidence and control. He relishes in the power dynamic and more so, in how you’re so turned on by having an audience. Dave’s eyes are sharp, catching all of Joel’s discomfort when you giggle when you share a story when he touches you, but worst of all, when you touch Dave. “Dirty girl,” Dave murmurs close to your ear, “you want to give your guest a show before we take him home?” 
Your eyes are bright and shining when you smile at him. You give Joel a once over. He doesn’t look like he will flip the table or smash his fist through it. He glowers at Dave but softens for you, swallowing down the humiliation and washing it down with another drink. 
“Yeah,” you turn back to Dave, “he can take it. What do you have in mind?” 
“I think I dropped something under the table,” Dave’s low voice drips down your spine, and excitement buzzes in your core, “You think you can help me out?” You smile wide as the Cheshire cat before sinking beneath the table. It’s cramped and dark, but you’ve never been more grateful to Dave for reserving his favorite secluded corner spot. 
You wiggle a bit brushing against Joel as you situate yourself between Dave’s legs. The table muffles more of the sound, blending their voices into the sound of the music. You can tell Dave is trying to continue a casual conversation with Joel, and you can tell Joel doesn’t respond with many words. You find it easy enough to tune them out altogether as you focus on your mission, opening Dave’s belt and working quickly to tug at his pants until you can free his thick cock. 
Before you can get your mouth on it, Dave cups your jaw and grabs your attention, “Good girl,” he husks, matching your hungry gaze. “This what you want?” he asks as he grips the base of his cock and angles it towards you. You nod, wetting your lips in anticipation. “Do you want him to watch?” he asks, tilting his head towards Joel. 
You smile again, “Yes.” 
“Come closer,” he directs Joel, “she wants you to watch.” Joel shuffles over, scooting down the curved bench until he can see your face looking up at him. 
“Shit, baby,” Joel hisses, shifting to adjust himself. You see the mix of emotions flickering across his face. You can’t help yourself from holding eye contact with Joel as you slide your tongue down Dave’s length. You keep your eyes on him as you begin to bob your head, taking his cock deeper into your mouth. 
Having their eyes on you, has you squirming. The attention and the dynamics between the three of you has your heart in your cunt. The blazing jealousy in Joel’s eyes eggs you on, working sloppily to please Dave. You moan below them. 
“Look at her,” Dave speaks calmly to Joel, only a hint of strain in his voice as he maintains his composure. “You think another woman could enjoy your cock this much? You think you could find a mouth better than this?” 
“No,” Joel grits through clenched teeth. 
“You think you deserve her?” Dave asks like it’s as meaningless as asking about the weather. 
“No,” he grits again, his eyes shut tightly, waiting for something to pass, before he can continue watching you. You see the torment taking hold, lighting a fire within you that spurs you on. You break the eye contact to take Dave’s cock even deeper. He groans approvingly above you. 
“That’s it,” Dave encourages you with his hand gently wrapping around the back of your head, “just like that, fuck.” He keeps watching you, but his next words are for Joel. “Tell her,” he says, drunk with pride and lust, “tell her what a good girl she is. Think she more than deserves to hear it.” You know your cunt is dripping between your legs at the intensity of your lewd behavior and the control Dave wields over the both of you so effortlessly. 
You shift to watch Joel. He tempers the storm of his frustration and arousal to make sure it sounds honest. So you know he means it.
“That’s good, baby,” his voice is hoarse, and he clears his throat before continuing, “Such a good girl.” Your eyes nearly roll back. You didn’t think it could hit any harder than when Dave praises you, but hearing the words from Joel sends you to another plane. You melt before your determination is renewed, and you’re on a mission to make Dave come. He knows what you want, and his hips tilt, rocking into you as you swallow around him eagerly until he’s groaning again and pulsing against your tongue as he comes. 
The men shift, and the three of you adjust and fix yourselves, respectively, as you return to your seat between them. You’re pleased with yourself but overtaken with the need throbbing in your cunt. You don’t miss Joel’s attempts to adjust himself and squash his own aching desire. It makes your lips curl with a hungry smile. 
Dave pulls you towards him. You’re buzzing so tensely with anticipation that just his grip around your waist brings a whiny moan out of you. He chuckles darkly at your wrecked response. “So worked up just from that, aren’t you?” Dave teases. You hum in agreement, letting your senses be overwhelmed by the scent of both men and their warm bodies on either side of you. “Already soaked and ready to be filled with a cock, hm?” 
“Yes,” you agree, closing your eyes and smiling dreamily. 
“Tell me,” Dave murmurs with a dangerous edge. 
“So wet,” you purr in agreement, but he laughs again. You open your eyes, confused. 
“Was asking him,” Dave tilts your chin towards Joel. You thought your idea of having Joel watch would be punishment enough, but you weren’t prepared for how Dave’s filthy mind works a step ahead of yours. You pull Joel’s hand between your legs. “Check for me,” he orders. 
Joel obeys. His fingers are quick to find your soaked underwear, and he easily dips them beneath the fabric into the pool of slick at your fluttering entrance. “Fuck,” you both curse at the sensation. It’s overwhelming, and you jerk at the intensity of being touched where your body wants contact the most. 
“Fuckin’ soaked,” Joel confirms like it’s painful to say it, “needs it bad.” You think the latter might apply to both of you. 
“You think you can make it all the way home, dirty girl?” Dave teases. You nod, but the whiny sound that comes from your throat as Joel removes his hand says otherwise. Dave considers your needs. “He’s only here to watch, hm?” he confirms. You nod mindlessly. “You think he’d make a nice seat for your ride home? Keep that empty hole full for you?” 
“Oh, shit,” you feel your face heat at the idea, “yes.” 
Joel’s more conflicted than he’s ever felt in his life. He was prepared to fight off his jealousy and tame his anger. He wasn’t prepared to watch you give Dave head in public or for how fucking hard he would get watching. But the most difficult thing to reckon with is the humiliation. More specifically, how every comment from either one of you that further salted his wound made his skin boil but also sent jolts of excitement through his nerves. 
“You think you can keep it together?” Dave challenges Joel. 
“Yes.” 
………………
Joel regrets agreeing before you leave the parking lot, but you couldn’t pay him to go back in time and change his answer. He thought the worst of it was over once you finally settled on top of him, sinking painfully slowly down his cock until your ass was flush with his hips, but you can’t stay still. You tense and contract around him, nearly blinding Joel with the heat of your velvety soft walls choking his shaft. You lean forward, trying to get comfortable, and when the car bounces over a speed bump on the way out of the parking lot, you both groan with pleasure and frustration. 
“You feel better?” Dave asks you as he navigates swiftly back to yours. 
“So full,” you state, desperately fighting the urge to beg Joel to grab your hips and fuck you. You weren’t exactly exaggerating the last time you had sex with Joel when you said you missed his “big fat cock.” Every bump on the road has you biting back moans, and you squirm, trying to find a comfortable position. 
“Please,” Joel’s low voice is strained and ragged, “quit moving.” 
You should’ve had the foresight to realize this wasn’t a punishment for Joel. This was just going to weaken your resolve. You know the second he gets his hands on you, it’s useless. You’re his through and through. You thought you were still pissed off enough that he couldn’t get to you, that Dave’s presence would keep you on track. 
Well, you didn’t really think about it at all. You just felt your knees go weak when, and your cunt do a flip when Dave made the suggestion. You need to make a mental note to show him just how much you appreciate his dirty mind when you get back home. 
You can feel Joel’s growl rumbling through his chest and his thighs tensing beneath you. It’s a vicious cycle. Every sound he makes is like a call and response with your body. Your cunt denounces your orders to stay still and pulses rhythmically, trying to take Joel’s cock deeper on it’s own accord. His breath hitches, and you adjust. 
“Baby,” he rasps, sounding wrecked, “I can’t–fuck–can’t do this if you’re gonna be a fuckin’ tease. His hands wrap around your hips, fingers digging harshly into your flesh in an attempt to keep you still, but the pressure makes you cry out softly. 
“Is your chair complaining?” Dave mocks, and Joel’s cock tenses inside of you. 
“I’m about to complain,” you try to snark, but it comes out needy instead. 
“What do you need, dirty girl?” He asks sincerely. You know it’s not long to get home, but you can’t think straight with Joel’s cock so deep inside of you. 
“Fuck, I…” you wiggle again, causing Joel to grunt behind you, and the noise makes your pussy flex, “I can’t,” you trail off, digging your nails into your palms, trying to steady yourself. You feel pathetic right now, unable to put together a sentence and barely able to keep yourself still. 
“Hey,” Dave coos gently, seeing the pained expression on your face. “You decide what you want. Your rules. You want him to touch you?” 
“Mmm,” you groan loudly with want, “please, please, please.” 
Joel doesn’t hesitate, hands searching immediately and yanking you closer as he gropes at your body. The freedom to move gives him power over his urges, more control than either of you expected. His breath is hot against your neck before his voice, gravelly and dark, vibrates just behind your ear, “Missed hearing you beg for me.” 
Your head lolls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut and mouth hanging open. You moan in sync as his hands wrap around your body, slipping under the top and bottom of your dress at the same time. You’re pinned, back against his firm chest, as one hand pinches at your hard nipple and the other taps at your clit. Your body struggles in his strong arms, unable to bow at the overstimulation of his touch. All you can manage is to rut your hips into him. 
“You desperate to come on my cock again, baby?” he goads you. Feeling confident now that he’s free to run his filthy mouth again. Feeling drunk on your needy noises and the way you writhe for him. He carries on teasing you in his Joel-specific way with his words and his fingers. It’s maddening, and you feel lit up, skin tingling as you’re at his mercy. You can only see blinding light, like you’re inside of a star, as you get closer and closer. 
You’re too incapacitated to realize you’ve made it home, that the car has stopped moving, that Dave has turned to watch you. Joel continues to rasp filth into your ear, but your body spasms in response when Dave begins to encourage you. “That’s right,” Dave coaxes you, “take what you need.” 
You do. Falling headfirst into the rush, broken, gasping, moans ringing through the car. The scent of sex swirling in the air. Your tension snaps, flooding with endorphins, and riding through the waves as you’re fully supported by Joel’s arms and body. 
“Fuck,” Joel chokes out, biting down into the curve of your neck to stifle himself. Your cunt still weakly tries to milk his cock as your hips twitch and jerk while you ease back down from your orgasm. You can feel the mess you’ve made. Hot and sopping wet, dripping down Joel’s cock and making you slip against his thighs. You’ve never made such a mess before. 
Joel shudders and tenses beneath you. Lifting you off of him with a familiar grunt. It’s his come leaking out of you. Your head swivels, “that wasn’t for you.” His cocky attitude from minutes earlier is gone; shame washes over him. His curls are no longer tamed like they were when he showed up at your door; one sticks to the sweat on his forehead. He breathes deeply, chest rising and falling, as he mouths a barely audible apology. 
It’s twisted that it stirs your need to comfort him. Fuck it. You figure the whole evening has been wild enough so far. Plus, he can take some of the emotional whiplash this time. You’re tired of being the one with that look on your face. You can see the taunt dancing on Dave’s tongue; you know he’s ready to cut Joel with vicious words, but he holds them, waiting for your lead. 
It’s an unbelievable position to be in. You aren’t used to feeling like you’ve got the upper hand in the power dynamic like this. Not with Joel. Not with two men that radiate dominance like it’s in their DNA. You’d like to savor the moment, but now that you’re not burning a horny fever, you realize how incredibly impractical it is to sit on top of such a large man inside of the car. You’re all gonna end up with neck cramps if you’re in here another minute. 
Despite dying to know what Dave’s holding back, you have more mercy than him or Joel. Joel, who currently can’t look you in the eye as he stays uncomfortably rigid beneath you, well, except for his spent cock. The thought makes you snort weakly, amused at your own sense of humor. 
You contort in Joel’s lap to kiss him softly on the cheek. “Chin up, Joel,” you lilt. “You can make it up to me. We’re not done yet,” you nod towards Dave who smirks darkly, “Unless you’ve changed your mind.” You open the door and hop out, leaving both men to watch you walk to the door. For the first time since you opened your door tonight, you’re alone long enough to let some nerves start to get to you. 
Your dates don’t follow immediately. They take long enough that you start to spin out in your head. Are you insane for this whole idea? Did you really just crawl under a table to Dave in front of Joel? In public? What the fuck are they talking about without you? You’re impatient now, arms crossed, leaning against the door frame, letting the cool night air stream into your living room. 
Then they’re striding towards you. Hungry eyes glinting. Both are intimidatingly gorgeous in their own ways. Dave exudes a slightly detached, effortless, authoritative swagger. It makes you feel special when he gives you his undivided attention. Joel is raw, slightly untethered like he’s always weary from warring with his own demons, but he still wields lethal power. They stalk towards you swiftly, catching your concern as they usher you towards your bedroom with more coordination than you expected. 
The door closes behind you with a soft click, but the tension in the air is heavy, as if someone had slammed it shut. Your room feels smaller with the weight of the situation about to unfold. Dave’s presence behind you makes your pulse quicken; the head of his body and his signature scent surround you. Joel watches, leaning against the door, arms crossed, jaw set, determined restraint weighing on his features. Despite the distance between you, Joel’s presence feels all-consuming. You’re mesmerized by his figure. His arms look even bigger, crossed in front of him, his broad shoulders, his pouty bottom lip, his strong jaw. You feel possessed with the need to …bite him? But, you don’t move. 
Dave’s fingers trace lightly down your spine as you continue to unabashedly ogle Joel, who stiffens at the sight of Dave’s hands slipping the straps of your dress over your shoulders. He’s unreadable, but the something simmering beneath the forced calm is contextually obvious. Joel’s trying to keep his cool; he doesn’t flinch, but he shifts, unable to remain still while he can only watch. 
Katie always referred to the chair in your room you designated as laundry purgatory as the cuck chair. It was only a joke, but if it isn’t perfect now. You glide across the room, tossing the worn-once sweatshirts and denim into the laundry hamper for future you to sort, offering the seat to Joel. It’s comical how his presence seems so out of place on the thrifted antique parlor chair.
You giggle softly as you spin back toward Dave, eager to find out what his depraved mind is plotting for the rest of the night. Dave’s voice is a low hum as he welcomes you into his arms, “Let’s make sure Joel gets a good look at what he’s missing out on, hm?” You nod, letting Dave arrange you as he pleases. “Pay attention,” he orders Joel, “I’m doing you a favor.” You can hear the devious glee lurking beneath Dave’s controlled tone. Joel’s dark eyes spark with something fierce as they flick to Dave before landing back on you. 
You can feel your pulse beating in your neck—and your cunt—as your chest heaves dramatically as Dave’s hands move over you. His touch is both tender and possessive as he makes a show of removing all of your clothes. It’s exaggerated to eat at Joel, but it works you up just the same. Dave pauses, letting his fingers hover over your nipples, brushing them just enough to make you shiver before kneading your soft tits, making you gasp. 
“You see that?” Dave asks over your shoulder, addressing Joel. “She’s so needy already. All worked up again. How are you going to satisfy her if she needs my cock right after you make her come?” 
You see Joel stiffen, gripping the arms of your chair like he might crush them. He’s still holding on to some semblance of composure, but it’s unraveling. You didn’t expect the dynamic between them to hit you straight in the pussy, but you’re dizzy, humming with anticipation. 
“On the bed, greedy girl,” Dave instructs. You follow without question, crawling onto the mattress, your pulse pounding in your ears. Joel’s eyes are glued to you, devouring every inch of your bare skin. It’s impossible for you to look away from him. His struggle as he works so fucking hard not to show how much he wants you, even though it’s written all over his face, is driving you wild. His fingers twitch as if he’s resisting the urge to touch you, to take. 
With your head still turned, locked onto the sight of Joel, your mouth parts in a soft gasp as Dave’s broad hands spread your legs wide, exposing your heated skin to the cool air in the room. You break away from your staring contest to catch the searing heat in Dave’s eyes before he lowers, pausing just before his lips brush against your swollen clit. He doesn’t ease the ache yet, lifting his head and turning to Joel with a smirk. “Come closer. You might learn something,” he challenges smugly. 
You’d roll your eyes at his arrogance, but then he dives in, tongue sliding against your slick cunt with devastating precision. You can only dig your fingers into your sheets as you arch and moan in response to his expert rhythm. With your eyes squeezed shut and your breath coming in uneven, shallow pants, you relax into the sensation coursing through you. 
“Tell him,” Dave hums into your skin, “Tell Joel how good it feels.” 
Your eyes flutter open, meeting Joel’s gaze. The sight of him has you at a loss for words. His face is expressionless, but as always, his eyes betray him. Sharp, hungry, and barely containing the storm inside of him. “So… feels, fuck, feels so good.” 
Joel’s chest rises and falls heavily. Dave’s taunts don’t hurt Joel’s pride, but watching you fall apart for another man twists his gut harshly. You’re so close he could count the beads of sweat forming on your chest. He can taste you and smell you, and it drives him wild. Like a beast, only held back by his hope to have a chance for more. 
Dave chuckles against you, his breath teasing your clit before he wraps his lips around it, sucking hard. The pleasure slams through you, and you cry out, your hips jerking against his mouth. Every nerve ending alight with sensation. You can’t think, only feel.
“She’s so responsive,” Dave gloats.
Joel doesn’t acknowledge the comment. His composure is cracking, the frustration bubbling to the surface. You can see it in the way his jaw clenches, the way his eyes stay glued to the place where Dave’s mouth moves over you with expert ease.
But Dave isn’t done with either of you yet. He pulls back from between your legs, his fingers trailing over your slick skin as he moves to stand. His eyes are alight with that dangerous gleam that makes your heart race. “Let’s show Joel what a dirty girl you are for me.”
You’re eager to obey. “How do you want me?” Your voice is breathy and ragged already. It only crosses your mind now that you’re completely naked while they’re still fully dressed. You sit up, reaching for Dave’s belt before he’s answered you. He takes off his shirt while you work diligently to release his cock. “Look at her, Joel,” Dave taunts, his voice thick with pride and adoration for you. “She just wants to be fucked right.” 
Joel swallows hard. The effort it takes to keep himself in check is wavering. He’s burning with the urge to claim you, to show you the meaning of being fucked right, to make you come so hard you forget Dave’s name. His ears ring, tuning Dave out completely, watching you adjust, lying back on your pillows, welcoming Dave between your legs. 
Joel is transfixed. Watching as Dave positions himself between your legs and slides into you with an agonizingly slow thrust. Distantly, he can hear you moaning loudly; he can hear Dave continuing to goad him about how tight you are and how he gives you what you need or whatever else he thinks matters. All Joel can process is the sight of Dave’s cock disappearing inside of you. Over and over and over again. 
A deep, nauseating wave of embarrassment sinks heavily into Joel’s stomach. You wanted to punish him? Like this? It’s too absurd to be a joke, to be a sick prank. It can’t be some kind of trap. You aren’t cruel like that. Worse. He’s trapped between his anger and arousal. Forced to watch as Dave takes you apart, piece by piece. Tortured by his own cock throbbing painfully in response to everything about you. He looks at your face and feels dismantled by your gaze. Hazy and sweet, you’re staring at him, wet lips parted as you gasp shallowly while Dave keeps up his pace. 
Joel’s composure is slipping, his hands flexing before he gives in, trying to readjust. Hoping to find the slightest relief as he palms himself over his jeans. Your brows wrinkle with pleasure, and a breathy “oh, fuck,” slips out of you. Seeing Joel so turned on just from watching you sends you rolling into a warm, vision-blurring climax. 
“I know,” Dave coos in your ear as you catch your breath, “I know.” He’s still murmuring against your neck, but it’s the silent exchange with Joel that makes you smile lazily. You think he figured it out, the power he has over you with just his expressions. That he’s the one that has you breathless. “Tell her,” Dave growls over you. 
“Good girl,” Joel utters hoarsely, mouth dry. He sees the glow wash over you at his words, and it clicks. Finally. Whatever it is between you affects you just as much. His punishment isn’t watching someone else please you, wondering if they really can make you feel better than he can. Wondering if they’ll treat you better. If you’re better off without Joel at all. No. 
It’s knowing they can’t. Knowing you’ve been just as empty without him as he’s been without you. That it’s been his fault. He’s made it worse. You’re all he can fuckin’ think about, and he’s in your head just the same. 
And right now his punishment is to wait this night out. To be vulnerable and reveal the truth. The desperate desire he has for you. He’s pathetic with it, honestly. He’ll sit here all night, show you how hard you make him, tell you how badly he wants you, describe how perfect you are, anything. It starts to pour out of him as his jealousy and anger recede. “So good, baby, you look beautiful, like a dream,” Joel’s voice is filled with earnest wonder. You beam, your eyelids heavy with lust as Joel continues. “I want you so bad it hurts. You’ve got me losing my fuckin’ mind.” 
“That’s a start,” Dave commends Joel before he shifts, pulling out and flipping you onto your hands and knees. You can hear Joel cursing under his breath as Dave kneads the plush curves of your ass, spreading you wide and showing off your glossy cunt. “You see that? Perfect, right?” He doesn’t wait for Joel to respond, focused on lining himself up and sliding back inside of you as deep as he can. 
Dave groans along with you as he lights up every nerve within you, and your pussy contracts coaxing him deeper. He pauses when his hips meet your ass, filling you to the hilt before he wraps an arm around you to pull your back flush against his chest. “Look at him,” Dave tilts your head to be sure you can take in Joel’s wrecked expression. “You think he deserves to touch himself while I’m fucking you?” Dave asks, shifting his attention back to you, mischief twinkling in his eyes. 
“No,” you reply, resolute. “He doesn’t deserve it. But I want to watch, so he will.” Dave’s grin widens, reveling in your direct nature. He lowers you, and you adjust, resting your cheek on your pillow so you can watch. “Please, Joel, let me see.” Your begging has the exact effect you wanted on Joel when you hear the throaty groan he makes. 
You squirm involuntarily when you finally get a clear view of Joel’s cock, clenching tightly around Dave’s cock. He hums behind you, muttering about how you’re unreal, and he hopes Joel can handle a woman like you as he slowly drags himself almost completely out of you before snapping his hips brutally, slamming back into you. 
You’re bewitched. The head of Joel’s cock glistens, weeping with precome, enticing, and menacing as his fist strokes slowly along his shaft. You’re salivating at the debauched scene and drenching Dave’s cock as he continues to slowly work you back up. The sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room, mingling with your gasps and moans.
“You see that?” Dave asks you, “Look how desperate he is. You think he wants to come?” 
“Yes,” you reply, “fuck, yes.” 
“Ladies first, though, hm?” Dave muses as he picks up his pace, pushing you closer, finding the perfect angle that makes your mind go blank. The pressure builds inside you, and the louder you get, the more Joel starts to fall apart. Your flip between Joel’s eyes and his fist pumping his cock ravenously. For you. All for you. 
That sends you over the edge, wringing all the pleasure out of you, taking Dave with you as he stills against you, cock pulsing hotly inside of you, as your limbs feel weak and you sink into the mattress. You watch as Joel spills over his knuckles, cursing and grunting as he comes, and it makes you giddy. 
Dave kisses your shoulder tenderly, praising you quietly, just for you, before he gets up and, like clockwork, heads to the bathroom to clean up and get you a warm washcloth. You continue to grin loosely, giggling softly, still amused by how out of place Joel looks. You see the fear flit across his face, and a cold, nasty feeling rips through you as you brace for the worst. Cruel words spring up, ready to protect you, but you hold your tongue. You won’t guilt him into staying. You can’t choose for him. 
It’s a painfully long minute. He doesn’t look at you. You try not to shut down. And then Dave is back, ever the gentleman, with warm washcloths for both of you. He checks in with you softly, “What do you need?”
The words stick in your throat. You sit up and force yourself to get them out. It’s barely above a whisper. “I need to talk to Joel.” He looks at you finally, as if you whispering his name snapped him out of a trance. Dave nods. 
“You want me to stay?” Dave asks. You blink at him curiously. Neither of you do sleepovers. You don’t need a bodyguard. You must have it stamped across your forehead like a holiday package: fragile. 
“No.” 
He takes your word for it, redressing and heading out swiftly. Leaving you alone with Joel. 
Unreadable Joel. With no clues in his eyes or his body language. His head follows you, watching as you cross the room to grab a shirt. You honestly wonder if he could disappear in the half a second your vision is obscured while you pull it over your head, but he’s still there. So, you gather your courage and face him head-on. 
“Can we talk?”
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Tags: 
@oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff
@dendulinka6
@winterwidow-stan
@goodvibesonly421
@cuteanimalmama
@perpetuallymanic
@whirlwindrider29
@wintersquirrel
@callmecath1
@msmorningstaarr
@bitchesuntitled
@julkaamazing
@loveisacowboyyy
@lovely-vamp-princess
@gothcsz
@auteurdelabre
@adoreyouusugar
@swankyorange
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Pls let me know if you’d like to be tagged or removed 
Also PLEASE let me know what you think <3
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beachreg · 3 months ago
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⟡ beachreg's spooky media recs!!
since it's officially October, here are my favorite non-horror film/more kid friendly stuff to watch to get in a spooky mood!! :D
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⟡ It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown (TV-G, 1966)
⟡ Goosebumps (TV-PG, 1995-1998)
⟡ Scooby Doo on Zombie Island (TV-G, 1998)
⟡ Beetlejuice (PG, 1988)
⟡ Spookley the Square Pumpkin (TV-G, 2004)
⟡ Frankenweenie (PG, 1984)
⟡ Casper (TV-PG, 1995)
⟡ Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit (TV-G, 2005)
⟡ Scaredy Pants (SpongeBob SquarePants, S1.E13, 1999)
⟡ Hocus Pocus (TV-PG, 1993)
⟡ Edward Scissorhands (PG-13, 1990)
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divider credits: @/strangergraphics!!
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243 notes · View notes
kurishiri · 5 days ago
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95K ┊ Dead or Love —Alfons Sylvatica—
꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!
— the alfons 95k bonus story for the dead or love event, or as it is known in en, wreck the halls. please note it is written entirely in his p.o.v.! also, i recommend for the full enjoyment, that you go through at least one read through of his main story.
— cw: nudity in a (semi-)public place, topic of death, awkwardly translated smut that i will put in between dividers.
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—— Alfons’ POV ——
—— Hallway ——
Kate: Alfons, w-what is that...
Everyone during Christmas was in a festive mood at its finest.
And on the very same day one sang fa-la-la for, [1]
I happened upon Kate in the hallway, with a gaze that could hurt.
And — while it does so pain me to say — such a gaze was not directed at me, but rather on the ticking bomb bound to my neck.
Alfons: This, you ask? Why, it’s none other than the bomb accessory that’s been the hot topic among the kids of London.
A: Ah— would you care for one, too, Kate? I must say its weight does ever so slightly hold me back though.
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Kate: ...A bomb? From a mission...?
Alfons: Dear me, brushing me off so splendidly, I see. And to your lover too, how very cruel!
Kate: Stop beating around the bush and give me an answer!
(There it is, it’s this face of hers. The one that means she has no intention of backing down.)
Alfons: Last night, while playing around, I dozed off for but a moment. And then, it was around that time...
A: One can never be too careful.
Kate: Just who did this to you...
Alfons: Indeed, whoever could it be? Not even my ten fingers and ten toes could count the amount of people who hold some grudge against me.
—— Port (flashback ——
In all truthfulness, this dangerous ticking bomb was put on me during a mission.
Right in the middle of the mission to take down an organization that was the root of a human trafficking network, I voluntarily put it on my neck.
That was the necessary resort to create an opening on the other side, after all.
And due to my fine play as a sacrificial role, the mission was a smashing success, and the organization was soundly crushed.
But, this ticking bomb alone would not come off, and alas nothing could be done. And that was the long and short of it.
—— Hallway ——
(I did know that if Kate were to lay her eyes on me in this state, she would be worried, but...)
I should count my blessings, as Kate did not accompany us on the mission last night,
and with that being the case, I tried to avoid Kate until the bomb was defused, spending time without seeing her...
(Aww, Kate, you unfortunate soul, you.)
(Or, wait, perhaps this may be a good thing?)
Kate: So, how do we defuse it? Though seeing as you still have it on you, I guess that means you don’t know...
Alfons: Aha, exactly, what sharp deduction skills you have, Kate! We don’t know how to remove this. That being said...
A: William and Victor, simply unable to idle themselves away, are currently expending their blood, sweat, and tears to find a way to defuse the bomb. So you can rest easy.
Kate: William and Victor...?
Alfons: Indeed, they will be back in two hours. So until then, I’ve been ordered to stay in the premises.
Or so I say, but even if I were to give Kate a seed of reassurance, her expression wouldn’t let up.
And so, before Kate burst into tears, I tried to give one or two poor jokes,
when all of a sudden, Kate raised her head.
Kate: You’re the one in this worrying situation, and yet here I am fussing over it... I’m sorry.
(Well, I’ll be...) (O_O)
Alfons: I digress, if your lover were on the verge of death and you were beaming like a sunshine you would probably be suspected of being an insurance murderer.
Kate: Until William and Victor return, I’ll stay by your side.
K: If it means your worry will fade even a little bit, I’ll do any- and everything, after all!
Alfons: ...What did you say just now?
Kate: Huh? Um... ‘until the two of them return, I’ll stay by your side’?
Alfons: No no, a little after that.
Kate: ‘If it means your worry will fade even a little bit, I’ll do any- and everything’?
Alfons: Bull’s eye.
A: Allow me to indulge in those very words then.
Kate: Wha...?
—— Kitchen ——
Kate: W-w-wha...
Alfons: ‘Wha’?
Kate: What in the world is this...!
Alfons: Goodness, how you tease me, Kate, to make me spell it all out... it’s an apron, of course. A n-u-d-e one [2], that is.
Kate: I know that already! But why this revealing outfit...
Alfons: ...You see, it has been a dream of mine since I was a child to see one wearing a nude apron up close.
A: To think this long-time dream of mine would be fulfilled like this on this very day, truly, life is worth living.
Kate: ...I... guess so. It’s the first I heard of that.
K: So, what were you planning, having me in this...?
Alfons: The kitchen has been reserved, and before me is a naughty Kate in a nude apron.
A: I daresay there’s hardly any need to ask, no?
Kate: ...You mean...
Alfons: Of course, we’re making sweets.
Kate: .........what?
Alfons: Truth be told, a tad prior to this, I had Victor tell me the recipe of his special scones...
A: And wanting to try it someday, I was simply waiting for the right timing.
Kate: Ah— I see now... Then, you could have just said so...
Alfons: Oh, what’s this now? Did you perhaps catch some... ideas on what we were going to be doing?
Kate: H-hardly. Anyways, enough of that, let’s hurry and make some sweets. What should we start with first?
Alfons: Hehe, alright, I hear you.
(As always, she’s quite innocent and darling, isn’t she.)
And so, still in the naughty get-up, Kate started to earnestly make the scones.
Alfons: Use your fingertips to knead the flour and butter. Yes, yes, just like that, like when I’m massaging your breasts.
A: Next, how about you lean over... ah— just a little more and the side of your breast will...
(To say that a nude apron is a man’s fantasy would be true, but...)
When wearing such an absurd attire, one would be unable to think about the serious things.
(How the nude apron does carry a destiny of being feared.)
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Alfons: And then, let the finished batter sit overnight and then bake...
Kate: Overnight...
At that moment, the smile disappeared from Kate’s face.
It would seem that the word ‘overnight’ had brought about the fact that my life was on the verge of fading.
It was around this time I blamed the recipe of the ever kind and polite Victor,
when Kate murmured,
Kate: Alfons, actually...
Alfons: ...?
Kate: Actually... I knew that all this was because of a mission.
(Yes, I figured. You do have quite a sharp intuition in the strangest places, after all.)
Kate: I’m sure something went on, which caused you to cover for someone?
(Goodness, you’re quite taken with that sort of thing, aren’t you.)
(...Well, not that she’s completely wrong about that.)
Kate: I know in my head that it can’t be helped. ...But, still, if I were being completely honest... I’m really scared.
K: Alfons, if you die, then I don’t know what I’d do...
Alfons: ......... (O_O)
Kate: But...
K: ...I will never, ever let you die.
Alfons: Never?
Kate: Ever. Because even if William and Victor were to say there’s no use, I won’t ever give up.
K: After all, I... I don’t have enough of you yet, Alfons.
I knew that Kate was thinking about my fate of ‘dying without being left behind in anyone’s memories,’
as she expressed her words.
Alfons: If I were to kick the bucket just like that in a matter of several hours... would you forget me?
Kate: No way! I won’t forget you, and that’s absolute.
K: But, even so, it’s not enough still...
Kate murmured this, as though in reflection, her eyes pricked with beautiful tears.
Alfons: Pfft...
A: Ahahaha—
(Aww... goodness, you really are as much of a fool as you are ever so darling, Kate.)
Alfons: What a fool you are, trying to act tough even when so anxious you can hardly bear it. It’s practically an open book, you know.
Kate: So you say, but I know you made me wear this to blow my worries away...
Alfons: Oh, my. I must implore you not to look down on my insatiable desire for a nude apron.
Kate: Ah— wait... Alfons...
Victor: Al, Kate! Here you guys are, we found out how to defuse the bomb!
Kate: ...Victor, William!
K: Is that so!? Thank you so much. So Alfons can be saved.
K: I’m really glad... so, so glad...
Victor: Ahh... yes... I’m... inclined to agree?
William: This is quite an innovative look on you, isn’t it, Kate?
Kate: Huh? Ah— t-this is...!
Alfons: Pfft... hehe.
(This sort of ridiculous sketch could be considered a comedy, no?)
Alfons: Anyhow, could I leave the defusing to you guys?
—— Alfons’ room ——
With the bomb defused, I took Kate back to my room.
Alfons: To think death was flashing right before my very eyes. I even got to witness such a darling tearful face, too.
Kate: Ugh, you’re the worst— I really was about to double over in worry!
I grabbed Kate’s wrist, which was hitting repeatedly on me like a cat, and I pinned them on the bed.
Alfons: Indeed, I’m the worst.
A: After all, I had made you so sad, and yet I can’t make an absolute promise that I won’t die.
Kate: ...I know.
K: But even still, I fell in love with you.
Alfons: What a good girl you are. You have my praises.
Patting her head, Kate sniffled.
Alfons: What may happen tomorrow is beyond us. That said, though, I do feel it’s regrettable were I to die tomorrow.
A: A lot went on today, but isn’t it fun in and of itself to be able to laugh together like this now?
A: Tomorrow, something more fun may happen.
A: After all, it would seem that I want to relish in such times with you.
A: All that to say, this is just the beginning for the both of us, no?
Kate: Alfons...
K: Yes, that’s right. Let’s do something more and more fun.
Alfons: Yes, let’s.
A: ——With that, will you strip? Or will we do it like this?
Kate: .........Come again?
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Giving Kate, who had a dazed look, a sidelong glance, I slipped off my jacket and grabbed onto my shirt...
Alfons: I would prefer clothes on. Well then, don’t mind if I do.
Kate: Wh— ah... Alfons... wait...
Alfons: Ahha! Look at how dripping wet it is, here between your legs.
Kate: How could I not with that get-up... ah...
Alfons: Then allow me to fulfill your expectations, whispering embarrassing things while doing many things you love, alright?
Kate: ah— ...ngh...
As I sucked and licked there, she cried out like a cat in heat.
She came once, and Kate looked a bit lethargic as I lifted her waist and had her on all fours.
Alfons: Aww... the apron’s so stained now...
Kate: hah... Al...fons...
Alfons: Oh, you want more already? Then, jut out your waist a bit more, will you.
Kate blinked, as though hesitant, and then let out words I wouldn’t have predicted.
Kate: Umm...
K: Do you... find it fun, seeing me like this?
Alfons: Huh?
Kate: I-I mean, if there are many fun things to come... you won’t rush to death, right?
(.........Goodness.)
(Truly, you...)
Alfons: Indeed, I do. Enjoying such a naughty sight is quite fun for me.
A: So that’s why, come now. Entertain me more, won’t you. If you do well, I’ll make you feel good.
Kate pushed out her waist while on all fours,
so that the wet part was right before my eyes.
Such a sight was naughty, laudable... and I couldn’t hold back a smile.
Alfons: Well done. Then——as you wish.
Kate: Ahh...!
Alfons: It’s so hot inside you. ...Come on, don’t run away from the pleasure.
A: Feel it with everything you can. So that... you won’t ever forget me.
Today, once again, I cast a spell on Kate to push down her shame.
And, today as well, Kate was taken by the heat, trying her hardest to engrave me in her memory.
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Alfons: What’s the heat inside you like right now? Its shape?
Kate: haa... ah, ahh——
When she turned over, our eyes met.
Alfons: Aha— what a face.
Our foreheads touched, and the inside of Kate seemed to swell in happiness.
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(Someday, the time will come when our breaths will cease. After all, death is the one and only thing that’s equal among all humans.)
——But, even so, I...
(By any means necessary, I will die after you. Not that I will ever tell you so.)
Keeping this secret in my heart,
I will watch you try your utmost hardest, filling your mind with thoughts of me and feeling good as soon as possible.
(You are here. That alone would be so much fun...)
(Rushing toward death would be nothing short of a waste, and even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could, at least for a while to come.)
Fin.
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ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍
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NOTES:
[1] Alfons uses [絶賛〜中] (zessan...—chuu), which is a way of saying ‘presently’ or ‘currently,’ specifically referring to Christmas, but it can sort of have a bit of a humorous ring to it too. I wasn’t sure exactly how to make it sound humorous in this case, so I took another part, specifically the singing fa-la-la part, in hopes of adding a bit of a light-heartedness or ‘joking’ sort of tone to it.
[2] I’m not completely sure this is the term for [裸エプロン] (hadaka-epuron), where [裸] (hadaka) means ‘nude.’ But basically, Kate’s like butt-naked while wearing an apron.
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lovelybucky1 · 5 months ago
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Hey there,would you mind writing some nsfw and sfw alphabet for Wolverine?
starting off with nsfw alphabet. if i get enough requests, i’ll do the sfw too. send an ask if you want me to expand on any of the headcanons! // divider from @strangergraphics
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A = Aftercare- logan is a pretty rough lover, so he makes sure to take good care of you when you’re finished. he looks over you to make sure he didn’t hurt you and gives you lots of praise. he’s a cuddler, so once you’re all settled, he’ll wrap you in his arms and hold you as close to him as possible
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)- logan has a love-hate relationship with his hands. they’re his most powerful weapon, but they also are able to touch your soft skin, hold onto your hair, and brush against your lips. he likes how big they look on your body and he likes the sounds he can elicit from you with them. on his partner’s body, he likes their chest. whether it’s pecs or tits, he likes to admire them. a low cut top, bralette, or thin t-shirt with nothing underneath is an easy way to draw his eyes
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)- this man has the biggest fucking breeding kink. whether he can actually get you pregnant or not, he’s going to cum inside of you and make sure it doesn’t leak out. it’s his way of claiming you, of making sure you carry him with you wherever you go. it’s your reminder of who you belong to when his cum leaks into your underwear long after you two have finished
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)- logan isn’t actually as much of a control freak as he may seem. he prefers to be dominant, but if his partner wants to take control once in a while, he’ll let them. having enhanced healing and stamina, he can take pretty much anything you throw at him
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)- logan has lots of experience. it’s not that he’s a whore necessarily, but he’s been around for a long time and a guy with his looks certainly gets a lot of offers. he’s had a lot of partners with a lot of different preferences, so it’s safe to say not much would surprise him anymore
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)- doggy style all the way. he loves mounting you and gripping your hips while he fucks into you. if your hair is long enough, he’ll grab ahold of it and sometimes he’ll pull his fingers in your mouth. he loves leaning over your back and talking shit in your ear because he knows his voice makes you dizzy
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)- logan isn’t really a goofy person in general. he tends to be more serious but he’ll laugh a little if something funny happens
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)- logan is hairy. he has thick hair covering his body and he tries to keep it trimmed in the important places, but it’s a lot to manage. he has some grey hairs mixed in with the dark ones on his chest, giving him a sexy salt and pepper look
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)- logan isn’t great with emotions. love and all that mushy stuff is hard for him to talk about, so he uses his body to show those things instead. sex with logan is passionate and no matter how dirty the sex may be, it’s his way of showing his devotion to you
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)- logan doesn’t jerk off too much. he prefers to spend his energy fucking someone rather than taking things into his own hands. he finds it way more satisfying that way
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)- logan is really into the idea of ownership and all of his kinks fall along those lines. he likes to be dominant and he wants his partners to address him with respect during play. sir works, but he is partial to daddy, especially when playing into the age gap between you two. logan never shies away from brat taming and will give a good, solid punishment when needed, but sometimes he’s lazy and just wants a good little sub to do with as he pleases.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)- anywhere private. he isn’t too picky about where, as long as you two have enough time to do want you want without being interrupted. there isn’t much privacy at the mansion, so he seeks out moments to get you alone. then he can be as filthy as he wants and no one is at risk of walking in on you
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)- bratting is the easiest way to turn him on. he can’t resist the urge to shut up a mouthy little brat. teasing him, playfully insulting him, pushing all of his buttons and daring him to do something about it is a sure fire way to get some kind of reaction out of him. it may leave your ass stinging, but it works nonetheless
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)- maybe this is controversial, but i don’t think there’s much he wouldn’t do. he’s open to new things and no physical harm can be done to him, so he would only draw the line at doing things that can do serious harm to his partner
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)- logan likes receiving oral, but he uses it mostly as a punishment for you. if you’re talking back, getting a bit too mouthy for his taste, he’ll stick his dick in your mouth to shut you up. when it comes to giving, he prefers to eat it from the back. he likes the feeling of his partners pressing up against his face as he explores them with his tongue
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)- like everything with logan, sex with him is rough. bruising fingers, fast paced, teeth sinking into skin, pulling hair. he’ll slow down to tease you, keep you on edge as a punishment, but he prefers to pin you down and fuck you stupid
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)- logan doesn’t really do quickies. he’s never that desperate for sex to rush it, and he would much rather take his time to throughly wreck you. if you’re the desperate one, he may ablidge and give you a quick fuck to calm you down, but that’s not his preferred kind of sex
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)- as i’ve said, logan is pretty experienced. there isn’t much he hasn’t tried at least once, but he’s open to anything new
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)- he can go all night and into the next morning. logan can fuck as long as you’re able to keep going, so him running out of steam is never something you’ll have to worry about
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)- logan is old fashioned when it comes to toys. he’s not really into them. if he wants to hold you down, he can do it with his own hands. if he wants to make you cum, it’ll be on his own dick. he doesn’t really care if you use them on yourself, but he prefers to do all the hard work himself.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)- logan is a huge fucking tease. he enjoys having control over your pleasure and will often edge you, sometimes as punishment and sometimes just because he feels like being a dick. he’ll also verbally tease you by calling you names and babying you, all in good fun, of course
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)- logan isn’t too loud during sex. he’ll grunt and growl, but they will mostly be quiet and in your ear. he doesn’t shy away from dirty talk, however. he may not say much in daily life, but that’s what makes the filthy words he says to you so much more impactful
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)- when it comes to letting his partners take control, logan is a bit of a masochist. no real harm can come to him, and after decades of fighting and sustaining injuries, the pain doesn’t bother him. in fact, the right kind of pain can be pleasurable for him
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)- i think you have a pretty good idea of what’s going on under his clothes. he’s so muscular, all hard planes and thick limbs. his dick certainly matches the rest of his body; the thick length and vein leaving nothing to be desired
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)- logan can go a while without sex. he may be physically in peak condition, but mentally he’s ancient. if he’s worked up, he’ll seek out sex, but sometimes he’d rather just relax with a newspaper and his cigar
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)- logan is a tired old man. once all the aftercare is done, he’s going to fall asleep with you in his arms. good luck getting his dead weight off you; you’ll be stuck like that until he wakes up.
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teenage-queen · 8 months ago
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Welcome to my Tumblr <3
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Hi my name is Ashley, I'm 21, currently single and a huge Bisexual!
My blog has recently become 18+ as I'm older now and reblogging/posting not so sfw things! My 2nd blog: @dwighty0uignorantslut is even more feral 😉
Plz DNI if you are a minor, racist, homophobic, fat phobic, misogynistic or a straight up asshole tbh...the list could go on but I'll save the trouble.
You will be blocked if you say some weird or creepy shit!!
Please treat me with some respect & like a human when you are in my asks or dms...I am not actually horny 24/7 bc like I have a life & I work a full time job quit asking if i wanna see your d 😂 also don't message me just to talk for 2 seconds and be done like that's lame tbh and if we actually hit it off I'll give you my snap.
I love all things horror/spooky/fall/halloween!
I listen to music 24/7 and there's not much I won't listen to I love tons of different artists and types of music and totally down for suggestions 💜
(My username btw is a 5sos thing iykyk & it's special to me 🥺)
I appreciate all the love when i post ✨️things✨️...it makes me more confident!...with that being said you are welcome to reblog anything (but once again) don't say anything weird or mean bc I will not tolerate it!
My shitpost blog where I mainly reblog memes & stuff that makes me chuckle is: @swee-ten-er so drop in over there for a possible laugh.
Welp idk what else to say but I love you guys!
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(Credit to: strangergraphics-archive for the little moth dividers <3)
(Tags I use on my selfies below 😁)
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bluestrd · 8 days ago
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★ bluestrd's first bot release ! ★
⊳ stranger things + the bear ⊲
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enjoy, these are 90% christmas themed <3
⊳ stranger things
✿ favorite present ◟ eddie munson ; in which you and eddie are celebrating your first christmas together in his trailer ◟ fem user ! (change link from unlisted to public)
✿ last minute ◟ steve harrington ; in which steve had to work late at scoops ahoy and had to fight for his life at starcourt to get you a gift ◟ fem!henderson user !
✿ first meeting ◟ jonathan byers ; in which you're meeting will and joyce for the first time for a christmas dinner ◟ fem user ! ╰┈ ✿ meet cute ◟ jonathan byers ; in which you meet jonathan in california, all thanks to argyle ◟ fem user ! ⧽ (au! where jonathan and nancy broke up when he moved to california. sorry jancy truthers)
✿ father's daughter ◟ jim hopper ; in which you've been pining for your dad's attention ever since jane was adopted ◟ fem!daughter user ⧽ (inspired by @voidsuites 'teenage delinquency' bot) ╰┈ ✿ back in your arms ◟ jim hopper ; in which hopper returns from russia, mostly safe and sound ◟ fem user ! ⧽ (au! where the Byers didn't move to California)
⊳ the bear
✿ christmas done right ◟ michael berzatto ; in which mikey finally experiences what christmas should be like ◟ fem user!
✿ christmases when you were mine ◟ richie jerimovich ; in which richie realizes he definitely misses you ◟ fem user !
✿ family recipe ◟ carmen berzatto ; in which you and carmen attempt to make mikey's spaghetti recipe ◟ fem user !
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���⁀➴ requests are open ! please send me some :D
જ⁀➴ this is my first ever bot release so please tell me if i need to fix something or if my bots are acting weird !
જ⁀➴ bot release layout inspo taken from @.faiszt ◟ divider from @.strangergraphics-archive
જ⁀➴ i know these are all fem users but i promise i will get better and more confident at writing for gender neutral !
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r-riri · 2 months ago
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'if i could get out of this place' - red haired shanks
(credits to @strangergraphics-archive for the divider)
word count 1,496
fluff mixed with angst
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the glistering water reflected the deepest shames a pirate could have. they sparkled and shimmered with warmth and comfort like a siren begging the man to join her. though he couldn't, he made an oath to his crew, his friends, his chosen family.
this is how she felt staying behind on the ship whilst the men on board disbanded and explored the island that claimed to be the best makers of the richest rum. y/n had no interest in silly rum that could ease her stresses, no, y/n was a woman at heart in a ship of men so instead of drinking her sorrows she looked them dead on with a clear mind.
y/n peered over the sturdy railing into the depths of the shallow water, studying the small fish who wondered under the surface. y/n felt a pit grow in her stomach not at the water but it was a twisting feeling shes only ever felt once during her whole life. that one time was the desperation of begging Gold D. Roger to let her join his crew so she could learn under the greatest pirate known to man. that desperation and willingness to do anything needed to ensure that y/n got the one thing that she believed made her heart pound.
so why was she feeling that again? Nonetheless why was she feeling it while staring at the small yellow fish swimming ignorantly though the warm water that welcomed the fish with encouraging arms. why did she feel sickly at the though of this fish.
"ive happen to grow to like you so you better not jump" a cunningly smooth voice said from behind her, she glanced over her shoulder having gotten used to the men on this ship trying to take the chance at scaring y/n.
"shanks? why am i not surprised" she smirked seeing his laid smile that was strung along his lips like god himself took the time to craft his face until he deemed it was perfection.
shanks trotted the space between them and laid his torso over y/ns back leaning all his weight onto her "omg you disgusting man get your unwashed self off me" y/n laughed between her words wilfully ignoring the heavily deepening feeling down in the pits of her stomach that grew bigger the longer she stayed
"carry me woman" he groaned into y/n's neck to which her eyes rolled in amusement before shrugging him off and he crashed to the ground wheezing, y/n stepped on his torso and over him away from the railing "why must my true love wound me so" he coughed
y/n snickered but never responded and walked into the dinning room in search for a glass of water to maybe drown the green feeling growing inside my body, that grew like a fungal infection.
y/n downed a glass of water but felt the same feeling clutch her lungs squeezing them tightly with desperation to be acknowledged. y/n rubbed their eyes hoping that maybe she may have caught a cold and thats why she may be feeling ill, though deep down she knew exactly what she was feeling, she knew the cause and she knew the solution to what would make this feeling dissipate.
y/n left the kitchen seeing the deck empty, shanks must have left to god knows where, instead she beelined to her own quarters, it may have been small and compacted in comparison to the mens roomy quarters but at least it didn't stink as if 10 dead bodies died in soured milk. instead the compact room laid pictures of people she once met, the memories of the girl and her old life the one she yearns- no no, y/n does not yearn for that life, she is happy sailing the seas, she loves the people. yes she makes comments that they stink, but these people chose her for their family.
even if y/n is happy the books that laid open with messy handwriting of different words that can only exist in the scapes of her mind, the words written were once poisoned with heartbreak and wishing now strung into beauty of the lives she writes for people she can only imagine herself in.
y/n sat on the neatly dressed bed that fit the facade that y/n put on herself each day pretending to not yearn for a life where she could see her name highlighted positively about the books she yearns to be writing and and the stories she yearns to tell to the children who grew the way she did but never got the chance to explain.
y/n pulled out a small grey box from under her bed and uncapped the box revealing 4 letters with four different names written in a neat font from a fancy feathered ink pen,
shanks buggy roger Rayleigh
the four people that she held close during her time upon this ship, each letter contain a scripture about her love and adoration for each of them uniquely dictated to each person and their individual tendencies.
she grabbed a small bag and stuffed it with her brimming books and small nicknacks that she kept from people who gift them to her and laid the letters along the dressed bed and made her escape.
she disembarked from the boat and walked along the coast of the island searching for a unmanned boat to use to leave her second life behind and as she found a small rowboat unmanned she boarded it and soon she sat there writing the end of her book that she lived with her favourite family.
as the sun hid from the people and the moon stood proudly in its place shanks roamed the ship looking for y/n, he had news to tell her, he needed to have a discussion with her but he failed to find her, finally he ventured into unknown territory and he stepped into her room and laid small letters with names, he grasped his letter and he ripped it opened hastily,
he stood there after reading the letter and felt a droplet down his cheek, cold and wet, it was a singular tear, shanks gripped the letter and left the room running off the ship and screamed her name until his voice was bare and dry
that was the day shanks lost someone he deemed to be important to him.
25 years later
y/n laughed as she sighed a copy of 'love lost' a book that she wrote 7 years ago, she smiled at the girl who raved about the book and how it helped her though a moment in her life.
"thanks kid" y/n smiled kindly as she handed the book to the girl again and gave her a hug as the girl asked for "this book meant a lot to me when i first wrote it so i'm glad it helped you" y/n smiled as she slowly bid her goodbyes and left the area and walked along the uneven cobble stone she admired the stone work of this small island that invited me to do a book signing.
"so this is where you've been hiding" a voice cold as ice rang though her ears, this voice shot y/n through the heart as she recognised the owner of the voice, she felt her throat close up at the fear of being confronted of a character from her past life as a pirate, the irony of 25 years ago she had been admiring (more like loathing the freedom of a fish) when shanks approached her. now 25 years later she was admiring stone work when shanks again approached her.
"now you wont even turn to look at me" shanks mused trotting the fine line between the two people "you left without even a goodbye y/n, a letter? a letter was all that had been left in your wake" he leaned down to her level to which y/n finally glanced behind and looked at his missing arm
"see you've made changes" she attempted to joke to which he leaned back
"and you've become an author" he countered back at her "see we've both changed"
"shanks i'm sorry but i had to leave, if i ever left it would have eaten me alive, i'm sure i would have been a author if only i had left that place, and i left and now look at me. i've written 3 books and 2 miniseries' i did what i dreamed to do" y/n explained in a melancholy tonal voice
y/n watched shanks nod "you did what you needed to do, buggy cried his eyes out the crook" he shrugged as if he wasn't also affected "i'm glad your'e smiling the same way you did back then" he wrapped his arm around her "big nerd" he teased
she smiled "stinker" she teased back
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taglist - @flusteredmoonn
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charliehoennam · 7 months ago
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beyond the badge pt. 2
a/n: special thanks to @strangergraphics-archive for the cute divider <3
pairing: david loki x f!reader
summary: his fianceé is abducted and a distraught david realizes some rules must be broken in order to save the one he loves.
warnings: 18+, dark themes such as language, violence, eventual smut, suicide, death, physical injuries, threats, blood and abuse of law enforcement
SHARING IS CARING, SO REBLOG IF YOU LIKE IT
one | three | four | five
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David's entire demeanor hardens like stone. His thick brows furrow and his pupils dilate with a controlled madness glooming beyond them.
His posture straightens as his eyes grow dark and determined, instilling fear in his captain, complete with a fleeting chill that runs up his spine. He wonders if this is the final drop that will send David into spiraling chaos.
Taking the bag of newly found evidence along and completely forgetting that he shouldn't, David turns quickly to march back to his car.
A rage-induced adrenaline surges through his veins. He's more than hellbent to continue his own personal investigation, now that he knows where to start.
“Loki, don’t do anything stupid. You gotta be smart here," O'Malley tries to reason, although he's sure David's anger nulls out all the noise around. "Loki, where're you going? Loki!"
He ignores his captain’s orders as he slams his car door shut. The wheels skid loudly as he backs up out of the parking lot and onto the freeway, leaving behind black tire marks on the cold asphalt. O'Malley knows he's up to no good.
He suspects David knows something they don't, which means he's withholding information. So, he calls Loki's phone, but the calls just keep going to voicemail.
As much as David hates to admit it and bend to the will of a criminal, he knows only a deal with the devil can bring you home.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he curses pounding his bandaged fist against the steering wheel.
The car swerves, causing passing cars to honk impatiently, but he’s able to shift it back onto the lane.
At this point, he can barely feel his hand anymore and he’s almost certain it might end up in nerve damage. The bandages he had wrapped over his knuckles dampen, intensifying the red marks as they bleed through the material.
David might be a cop, but he is never afraid of getting his hands dirty to get what he needs and he knows just where to start.
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“Hi, honey! I’m sorry, I know you’re busy, but I just wanted to call and thank you for the flowers” you beam through the cellphone.
He can almost hear your smiling. On his end of the line, he frowns to himself wondering what flowers you could be referring to.
“They’re so beautiful, Dave! I can’t wait to get them in the kitchen. They’ll look so pretty on the island.”
“What? Babe, I-I don’t – I didn’t get you any flowers” he frowns standing confused in the precinct’s breakroom.
“Of course you did, baby” you laugh softly lifting the card to read. “It's gotta be you. Who else would it be?”
“No, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I didn’t get you flowers. I wish I had, but it’s not from me.”
“What? Dave, i-it has to be. The delivery guy confirmed my full name and work address. H-he confirmed the delivery. And-and there’s a card too. “You know what I want. See you soon. Love, D”.”
“Baby, they’re not from me.”
“David… This is getting too weird. First, the phone call. Now, the flowers? This can’t just be a coincidence.”
"Maybe it’s-it's just a mistake. It could be for someone else in the building or-"
"You mean there's someone else that works at the same place I do with the same name as me?"
"Maybe they got the address wrong or something."
"David, this doesn't feel right. Something feels wrong about this. It's really starting to freak me out."
“Hey,” he pauses as he steps over to close the breakroom door. “If this really is Donovan, he can’t do shit, alright? He’s in upstate in federal prison. He can’t get to us.”
“He doesn’t have to be free, David. People like him have contacts. They always have someone in their pocket.”
He can hear the worry in your voice. He understands you're scared, but, in his defense, he's seen plenty of these psychological mind tricks and empty threats from criminals before.
“No one is coming after us, alright? It’s just mind games, baby. They’ll get tired soon and they’ll stop, ok?”
“You need to tell someone, David. You need to tell O’Malley about this. This is not normal and I’m starting to get fucking scared.”
“Baby, it’s gonna be ok. I promise. I won’t let anyone hurt you or me.”
“I don’t wanna keep looking over my shoulder, David.”
“You won’t. Ok? It’ll blow over soon. I promise. I’ve seen this before.”
“You have?”
“Yes. They’re all bark and no bite. Just scare tactics to try and get what they want, but that’s all it is.”
“You promise?”
“I promise, alright?" A moment of silence lingers on the call. He knows he hasn't convinced you that everything is fine, but he's got mountains of paperwork on his desk to finish up." Listen, I gotta get back to work, sweetheart.”
“Yeah…” you nod to yourself, still disturbed by the situation. “Yeah, alright. Go, baby. I’ll see you at night. I love you, Dave.”
“I love you too, beautiful.”
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His hand pulses with pain. The migraine throbbing in his skull reminds him of his lack of hydration and nourishment.
He’s been solely running on coffee and short 30-minute naps he’s taken on his late-night drives, searching for you, torturing questioning suspects that may be involved.
He’s given the department plenty of time to do their job but now, he needs to do his since he has now has the only piece of the puzzle that his fellow brothers-in-blue don’t.
He knows what he's about to do is far from correct procedure. Yet, in moments like these, he knows guidelines can only help him so much. This could be his only chance at getting you back.
Reaching his injured hand into his pocket, he takes his phone out. Ignoring the calls from O'Malley, he dials Michael Kemp’s number.
David had met the chubby and bubbly fellow years ago. Many of the fellow cadets would try to discourage Mike from accomplishing his dream of entering law enforcement. They would call him hurtful names and make fun of his size all the time, until David put an end to their bullying and befriended him.
They graduated together and have been friends since then, meeting up occasionally to catch up over a few beers.
Kemp encouraged David to become a detective meanwhile he, himself, preferred the calm desk duty working with evidence instead of criminals.
“Hey, Loki. What’s up?”
“Mike, are you still on evidence lock-up?” David doesn’t have time to bother with formalities.
“Yeah, man. Why?”
“I need the 500K we processed in the Donovan case.”
"What? T-that's evidence though. It's supposed to be collected by the bank. I can't just pull that much money without anyone noticing."
"I-I know, Mike. I realize this is a lot to ask for, but I need this, man. Please, just tell me if you can do it" David stutters desperately pleading.
“Do you realize I could lose my job and face time for that?” Mike lowers his voice to ensure no one can hear him.
“Yes, I know that, Mike. But this is some fucking serious shit, man. C'mon, I-I'm fucking desperate here! You gotta fucking help me out! Donovan's got my fianceé! I need to fucking get her back alive!”
He sighs taking a moment to try and calm himself down, remembering Kemp’s passive nature. Mike's one of the good guys; the kind of person that reminds him of the people he wants to protect.
“L-Look, Mike. Listen to me. I know this is off the record and you're risking your ass for me here, but I-I got a plan, alright? I can bring the money back into evidence. I just need Donovan to think he’s getting his fucking money back for this work, so can you do it or not?”
Kemp stays silent on the line, fueling David’s despair. Although this violates all the rules that Mike is sworn to follow, he knows David would do the same for him if the tables were turned.
“Mike!”
“Y-yeah, yeah. Hope you know what you’re doing, man.”
“Fuck… T-thanks, man.”
Arriving at a low-rate neighborhood widely known for drug-related activities, David comes to a rough stop in front of a house. The owner of it is two of Donovan’s slimy lackeys and brothers known as Ray and Vinny Becker.
The brothers used to sling drugs for him when Donovan was still free. David had cut a deal with Ray when his younger brother Vinny got jailed up on a drug bust: information on the big fish in exchange for his little brother's freedom.
Now that Donovan had been pinched, most of his 'loyal' buddies had all scattered, but Ray and Vinny remained, hoping that false loyalty could make him believe they didn't have anything to do with his imprisonment. So, if anyone could reach him without leaving tracks, it’d be them.
Gun in hand, David knocks on the door and turns away to hide his face out of concern they might not answer if they know who he is. He waits until the door creaks open to the limit of the door chain lock.
“The fuck do y-“
Before Vinny can finish his question, David quickly pushes the door in with his shoulder and slams the young man’s head against the wall, breaking his nose before shoving it into the mucky carpet on the floor.
He presses his gun to Vinny’s head as the older brother stands from the couch, lifting his hand to reach for the .9 millimeter on the coffee table, which is laden with cocaine, half-full ashtrays and thick rolls of money, tied together by rubber bands.
With no time with small-talk or warnings, kneeling on Vinny’s neck, he aims at the older brother and shoots a bullet into his leg, forcing Ray to fall back on the couch and grip at his thigh.
Shoving his gun back against Vinny’s head, the heat of the recently fired weapon burns his scalp. He groans and withers at the pain, kicking and screaming as the scent of burning flesh and hair fills the air.
“You know why I’m here,” David states with an eerily steady voice as Ray eyes the gun on the table. “Try it. Go ahead. I’ll shoot your brother too, I swear to fucking God.”  
The smart detective knows their background too well to know Ray would do anything to protect his younger brother at all costs. Although Ray is in his late twenties, Vinny is still a kid just barely over the ripe young age of 18.
Distress pervades the stern detective, who stares down the older criminal with dark, empty eyes.
Ray refuses to take that risk well aware that David isn’t one to fuck around. He makes the smart decision to keep his brother alive and leans back on the couch sweating bullets as his hands put pressure to the wound on his leg.
“You’re gonna call your boss, tell em I got his fucking money.”
“C’mon, man. You know we don’t got that kinda power” Ray sneers.
“Yeah, you do. And you’re gonna do it, or I’ll tell Don who put his ass in prison.”
Ray pants heavily as he looks down his panicked brother and back at David. Everyone knows that snitches end up in ditches. If word gets out about their betrayal and false fidelity, Donovan won’t stop until they’re dead.
“The old mill on Oakland Falls, tonight.”
As Vinny grunts against your fianceé, Ray silently agrees with unspoken words.
David storms out of the house, tucking his gun back in his holster and quickly climbs into his car to race back downtown. As he drives, he checks his phone and sees Mike’s message.
“Good to go. Come by at 7.”
Having no other option, he drives to the station to finally come clean about everything to his captain. He doesn’t care about the backlash; he doesn’t care about possibly losing his shield. He cares only about getting you back alive.
O’Malley doesn’t take the news so lightly and gives David one hell of an earful for not having told him about the threats, no matter how small they might have seemed. Although reluctant, the captain decides to give him a chance to get you back.
They’ve got nothing else to lead them on except for the evidence found and being processed at the motel and David’s confession.
He knows this can go terribly wrong, but it’s their only hope of not ending up with another dead body floating in the river like Donovan’s previous victims. He orders Chemelinski to continue as first-in-command on the case, but allows Loki’s participation.
While the detectives and a team of uniformed officers plot in the briefing room, David’s phone rings with an unknown number. He excuses himself and steps out of the room to talk in private.
Even though there is no number on the screen, he suspects it’s from a burner. He lifts his hand while his body tenses with apprehension. It can only be one of two people and he wishes it’s you.
 “About time I got your attention, detective,” Donovan’s grizzly voice chuckles. “You’re one stubborn son of a bitch. I gotta admit, I thought cops were better at protecting family. I been told she’s quite the fighter. You like ‘em feisty huh?”
David’s rage seethes within him as his fist balls, stretching the wounds on his white and numb knuckles.
“Are we doing this or not?”
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, detective. I got your little message, so I’ll tell you what. No fucking guests. I want you and you alone with my fucking money. If my guys see anyone that’s not you, she’s dead. You hear me? Fucking dead.”
“Midnight then. You know where.”
The call clicks and ends.
David walks toward his desk while the team of offices and agents huddle in the conference room. He sits at his desk and takes the smiling photo of you and him stood together in front of your Christmas tree last year.
His thumb caresses your cheek on the glass as if it were your real skin. He misses you so much. He just wants to make sure you’re ok and all he can do is pray this one shot he has works out.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers. “Should’ve listened to you.”
He closes his eyes as he mentally repeats the words. The guilt and regret bubble inside him again like a pressure cooker on fire.
Another explosion of rage erupts from him as he pushes everything off his desk in one swift movement. The meeting halts as all the eyes in the briefing room move toward him and watch his outburst through the window.
“Should’ve! Fucking! Listened!” he shouts to himself, slamming his keyboard against the desk, keys flying everywhere as he throws it to the floor.
While he slams the portrait onto the hard surface on his desk, O'Malley rushes out of the room to contain him as the uniformed officers follow him out, bracing themselves to do their jobs as if David is any other desperate citizen.
"I know, Captain" David affirms as he stands and holds his bloodied hand up to stop them.
He shakes the broken glass from the picture and tucks the treasured image into his pocket. Storming out of the station, he makes a quick stop at the nearest convenience store to pick up a carton of red Marlboro and a light, returning to his bad habit that he'd left in the past.
Sheltered by the store's awning, he sits quietly on the sidewalk with his back to the exterior, smoking one cigarette after the next in his bandaged hand.
Taking the crumpled photo from his pocket, he holds back his threatening tears as he admires the photo of you both together. He stares at your smile wondering if he'll ever get to see it again.
He would never forgive himself if he didn't.
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