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#&&. SWAP V. new day ; new me ;;
bangaveragewhitewine · 9 months
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crazy-mad for you
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Eddie Munson x Reader (bouncer x bartender, frenemies to lovers)  - Happy Hours series
Chicago, 1991. When you’re not pouring beers and shaking cocktails behind the bar of Jackie’s, you’re fighting flirting balancing banter and bite with the metalhead bouncer on your break.
A busy Friday night changes how you see Eddie Munson. Maybe you were wrong about the bouncer with his silver tongue and Bambi brown eyes...
This is 18+. If you’re not 18 please hit the back button and read something else.
Word count: 16.7 K
Contents/Warnings: Frenemies to lovers. Misogynistic comments; objectification, men being men. Some violence; Eddie gets in a fight. This is an 18+ fic. Smoking, alcohol consumption & drug use. Oral (reader receiving). P in V sex. Excessive use of pet names. Eddie & Reader are mid to late twenties. Reader is written as AFAB and uses female pronouns.
Author’s Note: One minute you’re daydreaming about cherry margaritas and Eddie Munson, and the next you’re writing 36 pages of how you fall in love with him... Just girly things? This is my first attempt at writing Eddie ❤️
I do hope you enjoy it, I had fun writing it! Thank you @specialagentmonkey for beta reading / being my hype woman.
Once again, this is an 18+ fic. Please do not repost my work to other sites.
Dividers by me ✌️
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The cold fizz of vodka soda lime prickles your throat with a pleasant burn. 
It’s August and it’s warm, too warm to be crammed in this little dive bar with too many bodies and not enough of them wearing antiperspirant. Way too warm to be working, slinging cheap drinks to the thirsty Friday night crowd crushed into Jackie’s. They can be stingy with their ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’ but the tips are good at least (thanks to the pulled-low hem of your tank top showing just enough and the hug of denim on your hips). 
Jackie’s was a popular little dive you had visited during your first week in Chicago; a drink with your new roommate and some friends ended with you charming the owner Frank and promising to return for a trial shift the following evening. That was almost a year ago and you had settled in well, stepping up to be a supervisor after six months. 
Now, bone tired and wishing just a little bit that you worked a nine to five, you long for a cool shower and something fried and crispy and maybe cheesy (not particularly in that order). You’re here until close, two a.m last call followed by another hour of cleaning. Then you’re home free. Until tomorrow night anyway.
You tip back the last of your drink and crunch the ice between your teeth. Those last few minutes of your break are dwindling and soon you will haul yourself back, to fill beers and shake-up cocktails, all tits and teeth and aching feet. The music from the bar is loud as you perch on your stool at the back door, but you hear him over it hum-singing something way more Billboard Hot 100 than his usual taste. It makes your lips curve into a smirk, your head leaning back against the cool brick wall. 
“Don't you know, hmmhnn change. Things'll go your way. Hmmm hmm Hold On for -”
“Hey, hotshot.”
The small startle that shakes Eddie’s black-clothed body makes you laugh more than it should, particularly when he attempts to brush it off and play cool. 
“Fuckin’ Christ, I should’ve known you’d be here.” His voice is a groan, head tipped back with hammed-up exasperation. 
“Careful, Ed. They’ll revoke your metalhead licence if they hear you’re singing Wilson Phillips these days.” Your voice is a conspiratorial stage whisper as you cross your legs, stacking one over the other. His usual leather jacket has been swapped out for the hot summer nights, black denim over his usual tight black t-shirt and Dickies. 
He rolls and flicks his lighter to set the cigarette between his lips aflame as he meanders toward you. You can hear the crackle of burning tobacco as he takes a long drag, eyes never leaving you. “Not shaking your tits for tips, sugar?”
“Aw, been thinking about me while you’re asking cute girls what their star sign is?” you snark, missing the shadow of something that passes over Eddie’s face as your eyes roll. 
You switch your focus to the night sky above as Eddie comes to loom by you. The smoke swirls around him as he offers the cigarette out to you. Before taking it, you reach back and leave your empty glass on the sill behind you and swap a chilled bottle of Budweiser for the smoking cig. 
It’s not an olive branch, just part of your usual ritual; trading acidic barbs, mean words, shared smokes and free drinks whenever you’re scheduled on the same shifts (which is most nights). 
Eddie uses his keys to uncap the bottle and takes a long pull, head tipped back to show off his pale throat. A sliver of silver glints around his neck. The beer is almost half gone when he rips a truly boyish burp. Gross. 
You take a drag, sighing the smoke into the warm air. 
“What’s the sigh about, princess? Did someone not say please when they asked for their Cosmo? Your little apron tied too tight?” Eddie plucks at the wrap of black fabric around your waist. The way it hugs the curve and flair of your hips is certainly not lost on him.
You blow your second drag of smoke directly at him for that one. “Well if you could make sure we’re not packing the place out and breaching health and safety, that would be fuckin’ fantastic.” 
“Simmer down, princess. I’ve got it handled. You just pour your little drinks and wink at the boys and we’ll get through tonight just fine, ‘kay? Leave the crowd control to me.” Eddie tilts his head, dripping condescension like the total asshole he is. He’s way closer than you even realised and you can smell the spicy Fahrenheit behind the smoke. There’s heavy silence as you both glare at each other in the back alley.
The heat and hectic night make your banter especially snarky but Eddie’s the first to break, nudging you with a little smile. You barely catch his gaze dropping to your lips as you take another drag from his cigarette.
“No one giving you any trouble tonight?” he asks. 
“No more than usual. Just absolutely slammed in there. Just got done changing kegs again - they’re drinking us dry and it’s only Friday.” You roll your neck, sighing again when it cracks. 
“Tips good?” He seems almost genuine until his mean little smirk returns,  “Your tits are probably doing the real heavy liftin’ but..” 
“Listen dickh-”
Just as you’re about to cuss him out, there’s a burst of music and crowd noise as one of the other bartenders comes to find you. Michelle looks between you and Eddie before rolling her eyes. “C’mon, you’re really pushin’ that ten-minute break tonight. Sorry to break up whatever this was,” she flaps her hand between you and Eddie (who’s grinning like a wolf as he finishes his beer), “but we have a bachelorette party in line and it’s already crazy in there.” 
“Bachelorettes?” Eddie pushes off the wall and steals the smoke back from your fingers, “Sounds like I should probably get back to work. Ladies.” He winks before sauntering off, leaving you almost simmering with something like anger until Michelle scoffs and drags you back inside. 
“The sooner you two just bang and get it out of your system, the better,” Michelle tuts. 
“Ew. Pass.” You scoff and pause at the dingy mirror to fix your hair and pat the sweat away with a rip of trusty blue roll, scooping your breasts up in their cups and adjusting your top before scurrying after Michelle again. If you’re going to be busy, you may as well make it worthwhile and rake in the tips. 
The bar is louder than loud but you’re energised from your vodka soda and little sparring session with Eddie and easily fall back into step with the other bar staff, working together like a well-oiled machine - despite the annoying rusty hinge manning the door.  
Eddie rejoined the staff with his buddy Jeff in tow after they had spent some time on tour with their band. You had barely contained your eye rolls when the loud metalhead had waltzed into one of Frank’s staff meetings (conducted over pizza and pitchers of beers) unannounced and kicked his feet up on a table like he owned the place. Everyone was happy to see him (adding a round of shots to toast his glorious return) but you stayed wary of the flirty metalhead with a silver tongue and big brown Bambi eyes. Yeah, you felt warm all over when he looked you up and down and smiled like a wolf but you knew his type - total flirt, make a girl feel special and then move on to the next one. You didn’t move your entire life to a whole new state to get fucked over again, so you and Eddie settled into trading catty comments while you watch out for each other, allowing the occasional flirtation for balance. Getting under each other’s skin in whatever way seemed most annoying and fun? It worked, made the slow nights bearable, the busy ones more fun. Whatever it was. 
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An hour later the small of your back is nearly soaked with perspiration. The bachelorettes are in full flight, meaning you have been pouring shots and mixing cocktails non-stop. They’re sweet at least, good with their excited ‘thank you!’s for all the fruity drinks you made them - cherry margaritas, blue lagoons and strawberry daiquiris going down an absolute treat. 
You’re shaking another batch of lemon drop shots for a girl's night group when you become hyper-aware of two yuppie finance bros with their gaze firmly fixed on your chest, trading little smirks and comments with each other behind their glasses. You’re overcome with an overwhelming sense of ick. 
It’s nothing new, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore sometimes - even when you’re up-the-walls busy and the kegs need to be changed. You refocus and fix your gaze on the glowing EXIT sign, thinking about how many more cocktails you will make before close. Your eye is caught instead by Eddie standing by the door, already looking at you while he’s supposed to be making sure none of the patrons are being too dickish. 
When your eyes meet he tilts his chin in a nod. Eddie smirks as he shimmies his chest at you, to which you mouth a very easily recognisable ‘FUCK YOU’ with a cheeky wink for good measure. 
He shakes his head and you pour the line of shots, earning yourself a nice big tip and a rake of compliments from the drunk girls who make you promise to do a shot with them later. Not a promise you can definitely keep, but their enthusiasm is a balm for your soul.
As they shuffle away to give each other pep talks in the bathroom (gosh, you love them), one of the men who had been eyeing you up steps into their place. You don’t miss the way he drags his eyes over their bodies before his snake-like stare is fixed on you. You have already made plenty on tips so you dial back the smile, giving him a barely polite brow raise in place of a ‘What’ll it be?’
“Two whiskeys, top shelf. Whatever’s expensive in this dump,” he says, speaking to your chest rather than your face. You can smell the sour of his breath across the counter. 
You square your jaw and suppress an eye roll that would surely render you sightless for the rest of your days. “If you don’t like it, the doors over there. Ice?”
He grunts affirmative and you pour the drinks from the barely touched bottle, slamming the glasses down just hard enough to startle him before you give him his total.
“There’s an extra fifty in it if you give me a smile,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar with the crisp note in hand. “You been given’ out a lot more for a lot less all night. One little smile for me?” The man nods to your cleavage, and you refuse to feel self-conscious. 
You can’t summon the effort to even fuck with him, come up with a comeback that his Neanderthal brain couldn’t possibly comprehend. You give him his total again along with your best deadpan glare. “You’re holding up the line. Pay up or am I going to need to cut you off, buddy?”
His face turns sour, acidic anger bubbling up. “You’re a hard little bitch, aren’t ya?”
You smirk at that, plucking the fifty from between his thin fingers to cash up before dropping his change back on the counter. “I am, thank you so much for noticing.” Your voice is nearly saccharine, and you play up the airhead facade for a moment before turning to the customer next to him. “Next please!”
His curses blend into the background as Michelle hip-checks you with a grin and wink, which you return while beginning to pour beers for your next order. If you let every slimeball get to you, you would have given up a long time ago. 
On such a busy night, it was easy to be distracted and forget all about him, but the sharp brown eyes standing by the door saw everything - and he wasn’t so forgiving. 
Almost another hour passes; another keg change, more cocktails to shake, another few visits from your favourite group of girls (who you take a shot of tequila with when they bat their lashes at you - you’re a sucker when it comes to girls who give you compliments and smell like vanilla).  
The crowd thins a bit and you take a turn collecting empties, happy to have an excuse to get out from behind the bar and stretch your legs again, even if it is to balance too many glasses on a too-small tray. The ever-changing obstacle course of the floor on a Friday night is one you’re well practised at, dodging stray elbows and dipping in between patrons to take their spent glasses from the sticky tables, maybe chat a little if it’s not too loud or busy. 
Paradise City is pouring through the speakers as your arms begin to protest the load they are carrying. You know your limit and pick up two more stacked pint glasses, catching Eddie’s eye as he bids goodnight to some regulars. His boot is already halfway out the door after them when you see his face change into something you can’t fully comprehend. Not because you can’t read him - you absolutely can - but your body is careening forward and down toward the floor before you can catch yourself. Your foot had caught on something that hadn’t been there before you met Eddie’s stare, sending you flying forward. 
There’s a thud, crash, smash as you hit the deck alongside every single glass you had expertly balanced. The sound feels huge, ringing in your ears and it’s like the air is sucked out of the room, your body is winded by the unexpected impact. The music cuts and everything hurts - part ego, part ‘that’ll bruise tomorrow’ pain. 
You wish for the sticky floor to just swallow you up as patrons form a little circle around you, crunching broken glass under their feet. A familiar pair of boots stops right by your head. Eddie. He crouches to kneel by you with one hand heavy on your shoulder and floods your already overwhelmed senses with his smoke and leather and spice. 
He says your name, edged with panic until you open your squeezed-shut eyes. You manage to push yourself up with a small wince, hauling yourself with his help to sit on a quickly-vacated low stool. His hands feel huge as they cup your face, you hadn’t noticed how long his lashes were (unfair) or the freckles dusted across his nose. 
“M’okay, Ed. Jus’ need a minute,” your murmur, head ducked to hide your hot cheeks and embarrassment. He stands and puts his arm around you, without thinking you rest your head against his hip but miss his slight intake of breath as your coworkers calm the crowd and start sweeping and gathering the glass, and thankfully turn the music back on. 
Eddie bends a little to speak to you, low and quiet, “Just sit there a sec, okay? ‘Chelle is going to bring you to the staff room.”  
You nod and take a few breaths before taking his hand to stand and be passed safely into Michelle’s care.
“I’ll be back to you in a sec. Don’t go gettin’ in any more trouble, ‘kay?” Eddie’s softness has an edge now, his eyes zeroing in on the man who had given you shit at the bar earlier. The one Eddie had been glaring at ever since; he had seen him stick his foot out to trip you. 
You’re just about to push through to the back hallway when you hear raised voices. Eddie’s voice is louder than the others. You turn and see him squaring up to the slimeball who asked you for a smile earlier, not looking as clever or slick now that Eddie’s up in his face.
“Oh, what the fuck,” Michelle murmurs, pausing behind you to watch. 
“I saw you fuckin’ trip her man. Get the fuck out.” Eddie is incensed. “Been givin’ her shit all night.”
Trip her? Oh. He means you.
“I wouldn’t touch’er. That bitch? Fuck off man, get out of my face.”
There’s a scuffle, another broken glass. More shouting before it really kicks off, fists swinging. Through the horrified crowd, you see knuckles connecting with Eddie’s pretty face. It hurts when you yell out his name, adding to the noise as Jeff rushes in to get the men under control. 
Eddie lands his own punch, rings slamming into the man's jaw, raising a collective ‘ooof’ from the gathered crowd. Despite the blood on his face and hands, Eddie manages to haul him out into the street with Jeff, some beefy regular marching the second man out by the scruff of his neck. 
“What the fuck…” you breathe, realising that you were holding on to Michelle’s arm way too tight. You apologise and she steers you back to the staff room in a daze of pain and confusion (more from the fight than your fall). The room is little more than a box with a wall of beat-up lockers, a sink and counter, a table with cracked Formica and creaky chairs and a squishy old two-seater. It’s cramped but it can be a haven on a busy night. 
As you ease yourself into the corner of the squishy sofa, Michelle pours you a big measure of whiskey for the shock. She kneels in front of you, looking you over for any cuts or scrapes from the glass, and checks your pupils for good measure. You’re just shaken up and feeling the impact of the fall. 
“You dizzy or anything?” she asks, squeezing your knee. “You’re gonna have a big fuckin’ bruise, babe. Remember when I spilled that pitcher, slipped and fell on my ass back before Christmas? Black and blue well into New Year.” She squeezes your knee and encourages you to take a sip of your drink. 
The whiskey burns but you barely feel it. 
“Why did Eddie hit that guy? Did.. did he trip me? The floor was clear, I just… I didn’t see... My foot caught something but..” Your voice shakes from the adrenaline, the shock of the last few minutes. 
She shrugs with a little smile. “I didn’t see either. You’ll need to ask Ed yourself.” A little frown etches between her brows. “He doesn’t… he doesn’t get pissed like that for no reason. He’s a good guy, babe. He looks out for everyone, staff and the drunks. He wouldn’t do that without a good reason. I know you get up each other’s ass but..-” 
As you take another sip, the door swings open. 
Eddie. Eddie with a bloody nose, lip swollen. Eddie with his jacket off, draped over his arm as he flexes his bloody knuckles around a bottle of Jack Daniels, a pint glass of ice in the other hand.
“Hey, you okay?”
His brown eyes are wide, but he’s trying to play cool despite the adrenaline coursing through him too. Eddie feels like his entire body is buzzing, not in a good way like when he plays a gig or when he gets you riled up at him, when you roll your eyes and give him that smirk - bad like when he used to get in fights in school, when a teacher would assume he was the troublemaker and send him to detention or the principal’s office. 
You look at Eddie and he looks right back at you. You can’t look away from each other. It’s like your fall and his punches caused something to shift; you can’t name it but it weighs on you, both of you. 
Michelle squeezes your hand. “I’ll leave you two to patch yourselves up. Be good.” A kiss is dropped to your head and she squeezes Eddie’s arm as she passes him by. 
It’s just you now. You and Eddie, both hurting. 
“Ed…”
He takes a long pull from the bottle of Jack and drops into the seat next to you. 
“Eddie, what the hell was that?” Your voice is quiet and your eyes shine when you look at him. He is a ball of frenetic energy, knee bouncing. You take in the black ink on his arms, see the veins and muscles twitch beneath. His nose and mouth are stained bloody, knuckles and rings too. 
He looks over you, sees how you’re holding yourself carefully after your fall. “He tripped you.” Eddie’s voice is quiet, not something you hear often. He’s loud and he’s brash, hear-him-before-you-see-him kinda guy. 
“Oh.”
“Oh? He’d been giving you shit all night, you could’ve called me. Or Jeff.” He sips the whiskey again and tops up your glass without another word.   
“Yeah, he was a creep. Nothing new there. If I come crying to you and Jeff every time someone gets fresh with me I’d never be behind the bar. People are assholes. I can handle myself, Ed.” 
“And how’d that go for you tonight? You could’ve been really fuckin’ hurt.” His eyes blaze, nostrils flare. 
Your jaw drops, “You’re blaming me?” 
“No. No, fuck,” he growls in frustration. “I know you can handle yourself. That’s why you’re fuckin’ great at your job. If I had just taken him out when he gave you shit at the bar then maybe -” 
“Jesus Christ, Eddie I don’t need you to save me or protect me! Shit happens! This was shit. It happened. You didn’t need to do that.”
“I know. But I wanted to... I want to..”
The air between you is charged and heavy. 
I want to. What does that mean? 
Eddie covers himself quickly. 
“It’s my job. I want to make sure you, everyone here, can do their job without some fuckin’ guy with halitosis making it worse for you, waving his cash in your face like that.” Eddie nudges you gently, “I just want to do somethin’ right. I like working with you, even when you’re a pain in my ass.” 
You scrunch your nose up, “Sap.” It’s easy to both fit back into your normal routine, ignoring the lingering something more that had just become quite clear to both of you. 
“I might like working with you too. Don’t let it get to your head, I’m not sure your ego needs to get any bigger, Munson.”
He smiles, but the throb of his nose makes him wince and swear.
Eddie has made no attempt to put that glass of ice to good use so you ease yourself up to grab two clean bar towels, tipping the ice into one before wrapping it up. You pass it back to him before filling the empty glass with water.
“Thanks, princess.” Eddie flexes his fingers as the ice soothes the burning with cool unpleasantness. 
You ease yourself back into your seat, facing Eddie now. “C’mere. Let me clean you up.” 
He pauses, looking at you from the side of his big brown eyes before turning to face you. “It’s not broken. Just a little blood. You should see the other guy..” Eddie grins when you roll your eyes. 
“My hero,” you deadpan, though you do kind of mean it. 
With the damp corner of the rag, you gently begin to wipe the blood from Eddie’s face, sitting closer than you have ever really been to him. It’s silent between you, the quietest you have ever seen him. He’s too busy watching you, your focused face and how seriously you are taking your task. 
“Very gentle,” he murmurs. 
“Mm, don’t try me, Munson.” You’re quiet again, concentrating on wiping the blood and not looking into his eyes. “Not your first bloody nose after a fight then?”
“M’nope. High school… Mosh pits. Few angry drunks. The usual.” He doesn’t mention his father’s temper, his first bloody nose from a beer-soaked backhand. The whiskey tastes sour in his mouth at the memory.
You lean back a bit, assessing your work before wetting another edge of the towel. Eddie crosses his eyes, looking down his nose. “Am I pretty again?” He gives an extra cheesy grin for emphasis, making you laugh. It makes his heart soar; that sound, how you duck your head. But he sees your pained wince, bringing him right back to earth. 
“Shit, sorry.” “It’s fine. I’ll live.”
You bring your hand back to his face and wipe the last of the blood-stained around his mouth, taking one last slow swipe over his too-plump-to-be-decent lower lip. That was more for you than for him, though the spark of fire in his eyes said otherwise; it was the same spark lit low in your belly since you had first laid eyes on him and started your incessant teasing of each other. 
“All done.” Your voice is just above a whisper, neither of you making any move backwards. 
“Thank you, nurse.” You can feel the warmth of his breath on your face. “Hey, can you... wear one of those little white dresses next time?” 
He’s grinning again when you shove at his shoulder to put some space between you, the skin beneath almost burning hot under your hand even through the black cotton of his t-shirt.
“No next time. You hear me? Your groupies will come for me if that pretty face gets all bashed up.” There’s that smirk of yours that sets the embers burning low in his stomach alight. 
He rolls his eyes at you, stealing your move. “You heading home?” he asked, watching you again as you drained the last of the whiskey in your glass. 
“Mm, soon. I’ll check if I can help close and clean, then I’ll go.” You lean your head against the back of the battered sofa and close your eyes briefly. You think you might just sleep here until your stomach growls like something from the seventh circle of hell.
Eddie’s big brown eyes shine with mirth, astounded at the inhuman noise that just came from your curled-up body. 
“Shut up. I’ll make cereal or something when I get home.”
“Nuh-uh. You like fries?”
“Who doesn’t like fries?” you peek one eye open to look at him.
“Let’s get some and I’ll make sure you get home safe.” Eddie checks his knuckles and swipes some of the blood from his rings, acting far more nonchalant than he felt. 
“You don’t need to.” Fries and a shake did sound amazing. Walking home while I felt like a human embodiment bruise? Not so much. 
“I know. But I’m going anyway, and you need to eat. So let me.” 
He pokes your arm as he speaks; you think fleetingly that you might let Eddie Munson do anything if he asked you nicely, spoke to you with that hushed husky voice. You think that you definitely must have hit your head when you start thinking about his eyes…
But he can’t know that, so you settle for an eye roll. “Ugh, fine.” 
With far too much energy, Eddie pushes himself up and empties the ice into the sink along with the red-tinged water. He potters around the little staff room, chucking rags into the bag for the laundry and rinsing glasses. You watch him, curious and a little confused until you realise you are staring and don’t want to be caught. 
You sit up and unlock your tiny locker, taking off and balling up your apron to throw in your bag, spraying deodorant under your arms before shutting and locking it again. Eddie’s got his jacket back on and you carry your own too-big denim jacket over your arm. You give him a nod, ready to go, and head out to the bar to check with Michelle that it’s okay for you to call it a night 
The crowd had thinned to a few stragglers who were almost ready to call it a night. Jeff has the door under control and the bar staff are already cleaning tables and glasses. You promise Michelle you will call her tomorrow, that you will stay in bed if you hurt too much, and accept her gentle hug after she passes you your tips for the night. 
“Get home safe. No more getting into trouble,” she says, eyeing you and Eddie together with interest (and some smugness). 
“No promises. See ya tomorrow ‘Chelle,” Eddie says with a wink before you both head out toward the black ‘86 Dodge Daytona parked a little down the street. It’s still humid and warm outside and you walk in silence until you see him unlock the nice car, opening the door for you. Your stomach flip-flops when he gives you a slight bow. He’s only being nice because you made an ass of yourself at work, you tell yourself. 
“Jesus, being a rockstar really pays off,” you tease and throw your bag into the passenger footwell before easing yourself in. “Or did you steal this?” 
You knew he had worked in a garage before moving to the city, and you force the thought of Eddie in a grease-marked tank top out of your head.
“Nah, my days of grand theft auto are long behind me.” Eddie winks and closes the door before rounding the shiny bonnet to sit in the driver’s seat. His keys jangle before he turns the ignition. 
The radio blares Iron Maiden’s The Number of the Beast so loud that you just about hear Eddie’s swearing over it until he gets the volume down. “Oops.”
“Dude, mind your fuckin’ ears. You’ll be deaf by thirty.” Your own ears are ringing after the onslaught of noise. 
“Huh?” He holds his hand up to his ear and smirks stupidly before revving the engine. 
You sink back into the low seat and shake your head; your own smile reflects at you in the window as he peels away from the curb. “You better not murder me, Munson. I’ll haunt the fuck out of you if you do.” 
“Once again babe, kidnap and human sacrifice are also long behind me.” 
He drives a little fast, but you don’t hate how you feel sitting in the passenger side of his car. He has a faded Black Ice Little Tree hanging from the rearview mirror alongside a skull keychain that cackles and glows red when you push a button on the back. The cramped back seat camouflages balled-up band shirts, a pair of beat-up Chucks, amp leads and guitar strings - a random accumulation that gives you a glimpse of who Eddie is outside of work. It’s easy for your mind to wander; Eddie, a back seat, what kind of girls he usually brings for a ride in his baby. Instead, you wonder about all you don’t know about the guy you spend a good part of your week with, the man currently driving you to get diner food at 2 a.m. after he punched a guy who was mean to you.
“Feelin’ okay?” he checks, flexing his knuckles on the steering wheel as he takes a left.
“Yeah.” You roll your head to look over at him. “Tell me something.”
Eddie glances across at you, brow raised under his bangs. “What?”
“Something, anything. A secret, a story. You always have something to say, so tell me something.” 
“Mmm. You gonna laugh at me?”
“Probably.”
“Shit okay. Um... Okay. I almost got kicked out of my high school graduation. My friends were disruptively loud, like obnoxious motherfuckers - love them to death. And I flipped the Principal off instead of shaking his sweaty little hand.”
It does make you laugh, just a little - more of a really amused smile. “That’s fuckin’ cool, Munson. Were they your little Dungeons and Dorks friends?”
“Rude.” He pauses. “Dragons. Dungeons and Dragons.”
“Nerd. You’re from where, like Ballsack, Indiana?”
“Close. Hawkins - just north of Ballsack actually.”
“Can’t say I know it. Home of the Metalheads or..?”
“No. Definitely not. S’why I left.”
Your lower lip juts out just a little at the loaded confession.
“Your turn. One secret, please. Dirtier the better.”
“Perv.”
“Witch.”
You smirk, leaning your head back. “Been called worse tonight.” 
You don’t see Eddie’s knuckles twitch while you think of a secret. Hearing that guy call you a bitch reminded him of all the times he had heard his poor mother called the same by the deadbeat he called Dad. 
“Okay, you’re going to piss your pants at me. I used to work at this kinda fancy cocktail place before I moved here,” you say. “Totally lied about my experience before starting. Think… wannabe jazz lounge for yuppies. The menu was like this leather folder thing. Anyway, my first week and this like.. rich lookin’ guy comes in and asks for a Roman Coke.”
You see Eddie glance at you as he indicates and swerves the car smoothly to park opposite a little diner not far from where you live. 
“I’m a few days in, super eager to get it all right. I’m like, ‘Yes, of course, coming right up’ and can I remember what the hell is in a Roman Coke? Fuck no. It’s not on the menu so I think ‘Hey this guy must know better than dumb little me’. I’m flipping through the recipe cards, everyone else is busy and kinda mean anyway so I stare at the liquors for like two minutes before I go back and ask him ‘What’s in that again?’.” 
Eddie’s biting his lip. He knows where this is going. He sees how you light up when you tell your story, begs the butterflies to calm their swooping and swirling behind his ribs as you deliver the punchline. 
“Rum. And Coke.”
His head falls forward, rests on the top of the steering wheel. His shoulders shake with silent laughter.
“Eddie. He was the owner.” 
He cackles. That throaty yell of a laugh you hear ringing through the bar or from the staff room when he’s goofing around instead of working. 
“Oh no..” He’s wiping tears from his eyes as you cringe in his passenger seat. “Oh princess, that’s fuckin’ terrible.” 
You sit together in his parked car until you settle, faces hurting from smiling until your stomach growls again.
“Jesus, the woman needs fries - stat.”
“And a Coke?”
“And a Coke.” 
Eddie is out of the car and opening your door before you even have your seatbelt off. He offers you his hand to help you out of the car, careful of your sore body after the fall. 
“Feeling okay?” he asks, still holding your hand. 
“A bit achy. I’ll have a hot shower and take something before bed.” You lift his hand to check his knuckles. “Sore?” 
“I’ve had worse.”
He squeezes your hand gently before you let go and cross the street to the hole-in-the-wall place glowing with neon Coca-Cola signs. 
“You get in a lot of fights then?” you ask as he holds the door. 
“Not anymore.” Eddie shrugs and leads you to a little table, nodding politely to the waitress filling coffees at the counter. She says hi to him by name and you think about Eddie coming in here alone, or not, after his shifts.
The backs of your thighs catch on the red vinyl and you know you will need to peel yourself up later.
Eddie sits opposite you, looking immediately at home as he relaxes back in the booth. In the bright diner lights you can see where his lip is still swollen and sore, the lingering specs of blood in his nostril despite your careful clean-up.
The waitress, an older woman with thinly drawn brows, comes over and pinches Eddie’s cheek with motherly affection. “Hi hon, you two know what you’re havin’?”
Eddie scrunches his nose like a bunny. “Hi, Marie. Usual for me, and a big basket of fries and a Coke?” He looks at you for confirmation, and you nod. “Please and thank you.”
She eyes you up with a little smile as she writes the order. “I was wonderin’ when Eddie was going to bring a nice girl for me to meet. Make yourself at home, sweetheart.”
By the time you both open your mouths to set Marie straight, she’s already gone. Eddie’s cheeks tinge pink, but he shrugs it off. “Hate to have to break her heart and tell her you’re not a nice girl.”
You gasp in mock offence and put your hand to your heart. “I am so nice.” You can’t even keep a straight face as you say it. “Slandering my good name, Munson. I thought you were all about protecting my honour.”
Your close-to-the-bone teasing keeps the rosy tint on his cheeks. 
“I never told you, your face when you fell? Fuckin’ hilarious. Should’ve taken a picture to put behind the bar.”
The jab puts you even again, not that either of you keeps score but it’s all about balance. Can’t be too nice, don’t want to be too mean. 
You rest your head against the back of the booth and close your eyes for a moment, feeling the exhaustion from a busy and unpredictable night wash over you. 
Eddie takes the opportunity to just look at you for a moment; even under the too-bright lights of the diner, he thinks you might just be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 
“Tell me something else,” you say before opening your eyes. When you do, you catch a fleeting dreamy look on Eddie’s face and lean forward to rest your chin on your hand as Marie drops over your drinks and food; fries for you, a burger with oozing American cheese and crisp bacon for Eddie. 
“So nosy,” he teases, shoving a straw into his fizzing Coca-Cola. 
You shrug, feeling a burn in your stomach; maybe you were overstepping. “You don’t have to. You can sit and stare at me if you prefer,” You take a long sip through your own gently placed straw and raise your brows at him. 
He can’t and won’t argue with that one and stirs the ice as he thinks, takes a sip. 
“One of the first gigs I played out of our hometown, we had like thirty people instead of the usual five drunks in the Hideout. I tried to crowd surf, thinkin’ I was hot shit. Broke my wrist.” 
Your eyes blow wide as you eat the best fry of your life - it’s perfectly crisp and fluffy, salted just right - but the punchline of Eddie’s latest confession had you wanting to know more.
“You want half?” Eddie asks, nodding to his burger. 
“No, I'm good, thanks. Hold on, reverse to the breaking your wrist after thinking you were Iggy fucking Pop.” 
He’s already a bite in but holds his wrist up before he flips you off. “See? Good as new,” he says, pausing his chew. 
The fries are too good to waste so you push down the urge to throw one at him. 
“I was eighteen. Stupid kid. S’the reason I didn’t graduate that year.” He sips his Coke again and watches your reaction from beneath his lashes. 
“That’s shitty.” You feel the frown deepen between your brows, angry on his behalf about something he was long over. “No wonder you flipped the principal off.” 
You share your fries with Eddie and eat until your stomach feels warm and full. You share another secret too, tell him about the time you got so scared in a haunted house that you punched some guy dressed as a zombie and got kicked out. He almost choked on a fry at that and laughed so loud that Marie looked over and shook her head fondly at her favourite customer. 
It’s easy to drop the charade that you and Eddie don’t get along. A diner at fuck o’clock in the morning exists a world away from the little bar that pays your rent and bills. When you see him get excited telling you a story, letting you see Eddie beyond the bar, you know you got him wrong - he’s funny as fuck, sweet too. 
Midway through a story about how his friend Robin had dragged him to do (very) drunk karaoke last week, Eddie catches you staring and scrunches his face a little. “Am I rambling? Fuck, sorry.”
“No. Well, a little, but I like it.” You sip the dregs of your refilled Coke and smile a little. 
He smiles back, ducking his head just a little and he catches the time on his watch. His Bambi brown eyes blow wide when he realises. “Jesus, I oughta get you home. The sun will be up soon.” 
You didn’t realise either, but you also don’t care. You’re still tired, still aching, but you feel lighter than you have in months, like a long-dead spark might just be coming back. The warm glow is dampened just a bit when Eddie gulps down the last of his drink. 
He pulls his jacket back on and insists that he helps you put yours on when you wince. He settles the bill, kisses the back of Marie’s hand and promises to come see her soon. Neither of you let her down when she says she hopes to see you again sometime. 
It’s cooler outside now, but the warmth in Eddie’s car and his gentle singing along to the radio rocks you into a light doze as he drives the few blocks to the address you gave him. It kills him to wake you once he’s parked outside. 
The small frown lines on your forehead tell him you’re still in some pain after the tumble you took. The ache in his knuckles felt like nothing in comparison to the twisting anger in his gut when he saw that prick’s foot shove out into your path and you watched as you fell in slow motion.
He gives it a minute, tries not to stare like a creep, before reaching over to shake your knee gently. 
“Hey.” He says your name so softly, so gently, and taps his fingers against your knee. 
You startle slightly and realise where you are. “Sorry, Thanks for the ride, Eddie,” you say quietly. “And the fries. And everything.” 
He smiles again, a gentle curve upward of his lips as his fingers rest on your knee. “Any time. We’re like two or three blocks from each other.” 
Neither of you wants to burst the already waning bubble you have been in since you left the bar. For a moment, you just look at each other until the air becomes too thick, too heady to breathe easy. You’re not entirely convinced that you didn’t hit your head, that this whole night hasn’t been just some dream of yours. The heat of his hand on your leg tells you it’s real. This is something real. 
And still, you make the first move. Pop the bubble. Too much. Too scary. 
Your seatbelt clicks open and you grab your bag as Eddie does the same, coming to open your door and offering you a hand to get out. 
Neither of you let go of the other’s hand, eking out the last of whatever this was before you have to go your separate ways and think about what it could turn into if you only had the bravery. You’re both standing so close and you watch the shadow of his stupid-long lashes under the street light. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Today. Whatever. At work.” You want to slap yourself for stuttering. 
“Only if you feel up to it. Don’t be a hero, princess.”
“That’s your job, Ed. I’ll see you at work. Thank you, again..”
You squeeze his hand, he squeezes back.
You walk to your door and Eddie rounds the car again to the driver's side. He raises a hand to salute you as you turn to give him one little wave before closing the door. 
“Fuck,” you sigh with your back pressed to the wood of the door.  “Fuck.” Eddie growls as his head drops against the roof of the car. 
You both take a minute. Need a minute before you can move on. 
You drag yourself up the stairs and let yourself in, quiet enough to not wake your flatmate. Eddie waits to see your light come on before starting the car and driving the two blocks to his place. 
After popping some painkillers you crawl into bed. Even your racing mind and pounding heart can’t keep you from falling into the deepest sleep you have had in months. Your dreams echo with Eddie’s happy throaty laugh, the gasp from the bar when he threw the first punch, the sound you made when you saw a fist crash into his pretty face.
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You sleep late through the Saturday morning city sounds as they turn to afternoon and float through your cracked open window. You sleep until your flatmate knocks to check you made it home and are still breathing, then doze off again while she makes brunch for you both. 
Over eggs and bacon, toast and fresh fruit, coffee and Advil, you tell her everything from last night and show her your bruises. She runs to CVS to get arnica cream and more painkillers while you strip your bed, shower and do laundry, keep busy to keep the recurring thoughts of Eddie from your head. 
While you are folding clean clothes from earlier in the week back into your drawers, you come across a guitar pick Eddie had left on the bar one time before your shift started; once lost from his pocket, found again amongst the collection of shirts and shorts and jeans you wore to work. You had meant to give it back, then he had called you a brat for something stupid. Maybe he had burped too loud in your direction, and so you didn’t bother. As you run your thumb over the smooth curve of it, you think maybe he’s been at the back of your mind for a longer time than you even realised.
You’re sore all over but you call Michelle and let her know you will be in for your shift. You don’t tell her that you stayed out extra late with Eddie talking about stupid shit and laughing until your face hurt - you're not sure you could handle her sweet smugness over the phone. 
After a long bath to soak your muscles and a huge plate of pasta for dinner, you get ready for work. Denim shorts, a tight black t-shirt tucked in, and your trusty Dr Martens (despite the heat). You add some jewellery, spritz your perfume, and fix your hair up off the back of your neck to keep cool. You swipe some Raisin Rage on your lips before wiping it off in favour of a slick of cherry flavour Chapstick. At the last minute, the lipstick makes its way into your bag - just in case. 
It’s just after six when you step back into Jackie’s to help cut wedges of lime and lemon for drinks, make sure the barrels and kegs are hooked up properly, the mixers ready to go. It’s almost time to open up and you haven’t seen (or heard) Eddie yet. You chase your disappointment with a quick smoke break with one of the summer hires before Frank pulls you aside, making sure you’re okay after last night (and that you’re not thinking of suing the bar or anything).
“My wages wouldn’t cover a lawyer, Frank. Even with the tips,” you smirk before stepping from his office out into the hall, running straight into black denim and spicy cologne. 
“Woah, easy there.” Eddie’s hands steady you, two wide palms on your arms that squeeze gently when you look up into his smiling face. “You’re a fuckin’ liability, honey.”
Your cheeks feel hot but you shove his chest gently. “I was wondering when you’d arrive. It was so peaceful and quiet, what a shame.” 
Back to normal. Except Eddie’s hands are still on your arms, his thumb circling on the round of your shoulder. “Feelin’ okay?” he checks, speaking quietly just for you. 
You nod and lift your hand, taking his chin between your finger and thumb, feeling brave alongside the little intake of breath Eddie just about hides. “No bruises. Good.” 
There’s a beat where you and Eddie aren’t quite sure what you mean, what to say next. You’re glad that Frank calls for Eddie from his office, wanting to have the same chat with him as he had with you. It gives you both a good excuse to let go of each other, figure out what the fuck that was before your shift starts.
He squeezes your shoulders and gives you a little smile before letting you go. “Be good. Don’t get in trouble.” 
“I’ll try, hot shot,” you say quietly, giving him a wink before going to join Michelle and the other bartenders for a quick pre-open meeting - but not before you dip into your locker to pat a layer of lipstick on. 
The crowd begins to trickle in, slow and steady until it’s packed full and the music blares just loud enough. They’re a fun crowd tonight, and everyone is in good spirits now that it’s not quite so oppressively hot outside. You don’t have time to think about much else in between chatting to customers and mixing drinks; shaking cocktails is a bit more laborious when your body aches but you don’t complain. 
It’s almost eleven before you take your break. You take another Advil before slipping past the Staff Only door. The air is tinged with smoke as Eddie leans against the brick, waiting. 
His face lights up when he sees you and the two glasses you’re carrying. “Double fisting?” he asks, taking another drag. 
“One for you, one for me. Mines the water.” You extend out the dark fizzing highball glass to him, which he eyes suspiciously. He passes you the nearly burnt-out smoke as a trade-off. 
“What’s this?” he asks, “The witch's potion? I knew you’d take me out by poisoning me.”
You prop yourself on your stool and sip your ice water, smirking into your glass. “It’s a Roman Coke.” 
Eddie’s laugh rings through the alley and he holds up the glass. “You fuckin’... Wow. What an honour.” His free hand covers his heart, silver rings glinting in the light. It would be easy to think he’s being condescending or playing around, it’s what you do. But Eddie is genuinely a little bit touched and a whole lot smitten. He can feel his heart beating faster under his palm. 
You pass him a paper-wrapped straw before watching as he takes a curious sip of your special mix. You take a drag of his cigarette and watch his eyes blow wide as he computes the flavours. 
“D’you hate it?” you ask carefully.
“What is in this? It’s insane! I really like it,” Eddie says, grinning. 
His smile makes your tummy flutter. 
“It’s rum - but like, a coffee-infused rum - and Coca-Cola, with Sambuca,” you list off the ingredients that had been turning over in your head all evening. 
Eddie nods as he takes another sip, letting the flavours wash over his tongue. “Mm, I like it. You’re a real little alchemist, huh? Get it on the menu.”
You laugh and pass him back his smoke. “Nah. That’s an Eddie special. Just to say thanks..” 
Eddie looks at you, watching your teeth sink into your stained-dark lip as you wait for him to respond. He’s a shade softer than the usual tough-but-fun guy who works the door, softer than when you’re usually tearing strips off of each other for fun on your breaks. 
“Careful,” he says, voice quiet. He looks almost bashful. 
You frown a little. Your gut twists uncomfortably. Had you read it all wrong? 
“I don’t know what to do with myself when pretty girls are sweet to me,” he says, sipping his drink pointedly. 
The knot in your stomach swoops. He thinks you’re pretty. Eddie thinks you’re pretty. Eddie who flirts with dolled-up girls all night while he’s checking IDs.
You look back at him, see how the light and shadows play on the slope of his nose and those long lashes. “You have plenty of practice, Ed,” you say, so quiet. “You always know what to say.”
He smiles just a little and shakes his head. “Not with you. S’why I say stupid shit. Anyway, no one’s as pretty or sweet as you,” he says. “Even when you’re mean. Especially when you’re mean - so fuckin’ pretty then.”
Your laugh is almost involuntary, cheeks feeling warm. “That was smooth, Eddie,” you say, teasing him again; that was comfortable, less scary. 
“It was? Oh good. I’m fighting for my life here.” He laughs and leans against the wall beside you. 
He’s taller than you as you sit on your stool, tuning your body sideways to look up at him. “Putting the moves on me, Munson?” 
“Is it working?” Eddie raises his brows, pushing them up under his choppy fringe. There’s a playful twinkle in his eyes, hopeful and yet apprehensive. 
“Yeah, I think it might be,” you whisper, biting your lip again. He wants to bite it for you, soothe the pinch of his sharp teeth with his silver tongue. 
You reach a hand out, sliding your fingertips up over the back of his hand and wrist until they slip under the cuff of his sleeve. You bring his hand down onto your thigh, warm and bare in the summer evening heat. 
You’re feeling brave. Eddie is too. 
He leaves his drink on the sill next to your water and steps closer, his hand huge on your legs as he feels the smoothness of your skin and the frayed hem of your denim shorts. Eddie crowds closer, smelling the sweetness of your perfume as his leg slots between your knees. His eyes flick from looking at your lips to searching your gaze for any hesitation or hint that you’re just fucking with him. He finds none and feels braver than ever. 
He dips down, brushing his nose against your cheek and hears your intake of breath, that little gasp he wants to swallow and consume. His lips press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, begging sweetly without a word. 
You turn your head just a fraction to close the minute gap, bringing your lips together. With your hand on his neck, you feel his pulse race in time with your own beneath the stroke of your thumb, sliding down the strong tendon to where it meets his shoulder. 
Eddie’s lips press and slot with yours, plush and gentle and tasting sweet like Coca-Cola. He kisses you slowly, savouring the feeling of your lips on his. You pull him as close as you can, your warm breaths mingling as he sneaks a look to make sure you’re real. 
He is gentle behind the bawdy jokes and leather and silver rings. He’s softer than anyone can see. But you can feel that sweet softness in the way he cups your face before kissing you again. Eddie strokes his tongue against your lower lip to ask for permission he doesn’t need. It makes you shiver as that smooth-talking tongue slides with yours, making you gasp. 
Before it can build pressure and turn any steamier, he slows it back down and kisses you in slow pecks again before leaning his forehead against yours. He can’t stop himself from smiling and doesn’t even try to pretend he’s not elated when he feels your shy smile too. 
Behind that smile, you’re aching for more. You want to run your fingers up through his curls and tug, be kissed breathless by him. You want a hundred more soft kisses, feel his smile on your mouth. You want to feel him everywhere. 
“You okay?” he whispers, and can’t resist pushing another kiss against your cheek before moving back to look at you again. 
“More than okay.” You bring your thumb to swipe the lipstick transferred over from your lips to his. You want to see every shade you own smeared around his mouth. 
Eddie kisses your thumb, before pretending to nip it to make you laugh. “Are you going to be able to go back to the bar?” 
You shake your head, smiling before sighing over-dramatically and fixing a pout on your face. It drives him mad in the best way. “Mm, maybe give me one more for luck?” you whisper. 
He puts you out of your misery with one more long lingering kiss. “I’m not done kissing you. At all.” Another peck, because he cannot simply stop himself. “I’ll wait for you after work.” 
Your smile is too big to hide, rendered speechless by his confession. So you nod, giving his lower lip one last swipe to remove the evidence before patting his cheek. 
Eddie reluctantly backs off for his own good. He had thought about pressing you against the bricks and kissing you stupid too many times to be decent. He still will - it’s at the top of his bucket list - but just not now.
He grabs his drink, downs it, and gives you a wink. “Don’t go sharing that recipe, okay? That’s for me only, sugar.” 
“Cross my heart,” you tease, sitting on your hands so you don’t drag him back against you. You think he might just be okay with it if you did. 
“Later…” As if he can read your mind, he backs away with absolute mischief in his eyes. 
“Later.” You wiggle your fingers at him and laugh when he almost walks ass-first into the stacked crates of empty bottles. He swears at them and flips them off before throwing one last wink your way. 
Once you’re sure Eddie has turned the corner of the building you cover your face with your hands and smile into them, murmuring ‘What the fuck, what the fuck’ as your cheeks heat up your palms. 
When you have just about gathered yourself, you head back inside and fix your smudged lipstick. You tap Michelle’s hip when you get back, signalling for her to go take her break. 
She looks you over, suspicious of where exactly that coy little smile came from. As she throws one last look over her shoulder, she sees Eddie at the open door, looking just as dreamy and pleased with himself.  
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The rest of your shift passes without incident, which is a miracle because all you have been thinking of is Eddie Eddie Eddie. Eddie’s lips, Eddie’s hands. Eddie’s strong inked arms and his sturdy thighs. His lips (again). 
You caught each other’s eye a few times during the night, and it made you feel hot all over. Especially when he was being a total gentleman to some pretty girls, telling them to get home safe. You had felt his dark–chocolate stare on you as you laughed with customers, and shook up cocktails while he watched the strength of your arms and the subtle bounce of your breasts. Knowing Eddie was watching, thinking about how he might kiss you again later, made you slick with desire and excitement. 
You ring the bell for last call at 2 a.m. as your feet burn, and arms ache. There’s a flurry of orders while Jeff and Eddie close the doors and stand inside shooting the shit together, bidding customers good night as they leave in pairs and groups. By three it’s kicking out time and the few reluctant stragglers take recommendations for pizza joints and all-night diners to soak up the alcohol. While the bouncers do one last sweep of the place, you work through your checklist with a singular motivator; kissing Eddie Munson. 
With anticipation buzzing in your chest, you wipe spills behind the bar, refrigerate the mixers and hand-wash the muddlers and stirrers from the cocktails. The younger guys fill the dishwasher with glasses and barware. You thank your stars that it’s not your night on bathroom duty, refilling the straws instead and making a note for Frank of what’s running low before he does his full inventory and stocktake. It’s a well-oiled machine and your duties are finished in record time... 
Eddie made himself useful, staying out of your way (but watching closely, in absolute awe of you) in favour of picking up a broom and keeping the music going to keep morale up. He leans on the clean bar, chin on his hand as he looks at you standing with your hands on your hips. “Wanna get out of here?” he asks, tilting his head toward the back door. 
You nod, “Gimme two.” You restrain yourself from running to your locker (a quick walk is sufficient and unsuspicious). You fix your hair, blot your shiny face and spray deodorant and perfume again before opting for cherry flavour Chapstick. Extra lipstick this late? Far too eager. 
After a quick round of goodbyes, you notice Eddie and Michelle have both already gone and you rush around to meet him by the door. One taste and you are hooked, needing another kiss like your next breath. When you can’t see him, it’s like your lungs shrink. There’s no lingering scent of his cologne or swirling smoke, no glowing cherry or loud laugh in the back alley… 
Breathe. In, out. Calm the anxious flutters. Is he already at his car? 
Just as you’re about to round the building, the back door opens and an almost frantic-eyed Eddie nearly catches you with the door... “Hi,” he breathes. Relief. A sigh you both share before the smile, the relief. 
“Shit, did I get you?” He puts his hands on your shoulders and squeezes when you shake your head. His hands skate down your arms to squeeze your hands. “Sorry, got distracted inside. Can I... Can I drive you home?” 
Your nod is far too eager and you squeeze back, your rings tapping against Eddie’s. You drop each other’s hands but stay close to each other. This is new and unnamed and you don’t want the work crowd throwing questions at you before you have even figured it out yourself. 
Your hands and arms bump as you round the building together and for once neither of you know what to say. When you look up, Eddie is already sneaking a glance at you; he smiles when you catch him and you both dissolve into laughter. 
“What the fuck, you’re literally never this quiet,” you tease, elbowing him gently. “Say something.” 
Eddie takes your hand again, swinging his arm with yours. “You looked hot tonight. Like, hotter than usual.” Eddie licks his lower lip and it makes your stomach flip. 
“You think so? It must be the drink I made you. Pretty strong…” 
“Maybe. Maybe it’s ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about you, how you kiss.” He’s so smooth and it makes you feel warm all over. 
Close to his car now, you slow your stroll and lean against the passenger side. “Yeah? Maybe you should kiss me some more then, seeing as you can’t stop thinking about it.” 
“Oh, I’m gonna.” He grins and crowds you against the shiny black metal, bracing one hand on the roof as the other loops around your middle to press your body close. 
It’s like stars bursting behind your eyes when you feel Eddie’s lips on yours again. This kiss is eager and almost needy after hours of trying and failing to not eye-fuck each other. The hand lying low on your back slips lower and Eddie uses the leverage to step his thigh between yours with a delicious press of pressure. When you gasp he takes the opportunity to dominate the kiss a little more, licks his tongue against yours in a dirty slide.
You haven’t been kissed like this in a long time, all tongue and pulling soft gasps from each other. It has been even longer since you have been heckled while you’re kissing someone; Michelle breaks that streak as she wolf-whistles at you from across the street as she walks to her own car. 
“Get a room!” You don’t see her grin and salute as you laugh into Eddie’s chest, hugging your arms around him beneath his jacket. He kisses your forehead and holds you after flipping Michelle off with a rosy-cheeked smirk.
“She made me late, by the way. Gave me the talk in the office.” 
You rest your chin on his chest, pulling your eyebrows together. “The birds and the bees? Where do babies come from?” You laugh when he pokes your ribs and holds your squirming body closer still.
“Ha ha, jokes on you. That’s next week.” 
You muffle your laugh against his black t-shirt. 
“No, just that I better treat you good and not fuck around. Don’t want work to be awkward, blah blah.” Eddie squeezes your hips. “She also said ‘It’s about damn time’.”
You nod slowly, remembering her quips over the last few months about how you two should just shut up and get over yourselves, bang it out or something. It seemed like it was obvious to everyone but you and Eddie just what was going on behind your little frenemy routine. 
“Well then…” you say quietly. 
“Well then indeed…” Eddie echoes. 
There’s a lot for you to figure out. You can’t just kiss your co-worker and expect everything to stay the same, but inside you think that maybe you don’t want that and Eddie doesn’t either. That’s something you both need to figure out, but right now you just might die if you don’t kiss him again soon. 
“Eddie?” 
“Yeah?”
“Can I come to your place?” you ask quietly. 
Eddie nods, eyes sparkling. “Yeah. Yeah, fuck. I’d like that a lot. Are you sure you want to? We don’t have to...”
You rock up on your toes to kiss him again. “I want to. Let’s just... See where it goes?”
A little breathless, Eddie nods and roots for his car keys to unlock the door. He pecks your lips again before you both get into the car. This time he keeps his hand on your knee while he drives through the dark streets, only moving it to change gears. You keep it there, smoothing over the rings he wears with your fingers. 
You recognise Eddie’s street - there’s the bagel place you go to, the camera store where you get film developed. You can’t believe he’s been this near all along. 
He swings the car into a little parking garage under the building and takes the spot reserved for apartment 8. You twist in your seat to face him and see he looks a little lost in thought. “I can go home if you prefer?” you say. 
“No no. Please, don’t. I’m just.. thinkin’ about how messy my room might be.” He twists one of his rings and you cover his hand again to stop the anxious little movement you recognised from your own fidgeting.
“I don’t mind. Being nocturnal can be pretty shitty for keeping your place clean,” you say. 
Eddie nods, shoulders deflating now that he’s less worried you’re going to think he’s a total animal.
You pull his hand back over to your lap, fingers intertwined. “Anyway, I’m not here to snoop at your stuff, Eddie.” You shrug a little, hiding your smile as he thumps his head against the seat. 
“You’re going to be the death of me, I know it.” 
“You should be so lucky.” 
Your lips meet again halfway across the centre console, smiling mouths and ringed fingers grasping at each other, wherever you can reach. A rogue elbow hits the horn, making both of you jump - Eddie yelps - then dissolve into a fit of giggles which Eddie gladly smothers with one more kiss. 
“Lemme get your door, princess,” he says, lips brushing your chin and cheek one more time before freeing you from his hold to hop out and round the bonnet. You could get used to this… 
There are more kisses in the small shaky elevator, crowded to the mirrored wall as Eddie’s lips get acquainted with your jaw and neck, finding that spot below your ear that makes you moan his name quietly, tug him closer by his belt loops. 
You drive him crazy in the best way, he makes you feel wanted - perhaps craved is more apt - as his hands run over the flare of your hips and dip to your behind.
The elevator stops, dings, and you drag Eddie’s mouth to your own again to taste his tongue before he takes your hand and does his best not to drag you to the door marked with a brassy 8. 
“Shit,” he mutters, fighting with his keys to find the right one as you slip a hand up the side of his t-shirt, feeling the trail of hair below his navel to scratch through. 
“You’re a demon. An actual devil woman,” he hisses, resting his forehead against the door as he lets you distract him for a second. Before you can tease him anymore, Eddie turns and takes your face gently in one hand. “You actually want to come in or am I going to need to put you over my shoulder and bring you back to the car?” 
His eyes are burning with want, lips pink and puffy from your kisses. He watches your pupils blow wide and sees the gulp in your throat. 
“You gonna behave?” 
All you can do is nod, brain static with want, accept a kiss on the pout he’s placed on your lips, and try not to swoon or combust on the spot while he wins his battle with lock and key. 
Eddie flicks the light on inside and throws his keys in a saucer sitting on a little table inside the door. There’s a short hallway with a fairly full junk closet before you step into the apartment proper. You told him you weren’t here to snoop, but the urge to look around and soak in all you can about Eddie Munson is too good to pass. 
A typical boy's apartment really - an open plan kitchen/living room with a second-hand sofa and mismatched chair, a coffee table cluttered with an empty mug and a full ashtray, a fresh pack of cigarettes and a forgotten Coke can. There are some amps stacked in a corner, framed posters yet to be hung as they prop against the wall. It’s kind of exactly what you expected. 
Eddie twists a piece of hair around his finger, watching you look around. “Can I get you a water…?” he suggests, “Hungry?” 
“Mind if I use your phone? I want to leave a message on my voicemail so my flatmate doesn’t think I died or got in another bar fight.” Sense prevails over your desire to get your fingers back under his shirt, find out what other ink he has hidden beneath. 
“Sure, good idea.” Eddie points to the phone on the wall by the little breakfast bar. You notice a Garfield mug which makes you smile a little. “Back in a sec.”
While you’re leaving a message on your answer phone, Eddie stuffs dirty and clean laundry into some approximation of where they should be. He fixes the blanket and duvet on his bed - thankfully freshly changed - and strums his Sweetheart before hearing you hang up the phone. He takes a peek in the mirror after removing his jacket, shakes out his curls and gives his arms a quick flex before telling himself he’s an idiot - being friends with Steve Harrington has definitely altered his brain chemistry in some sort of way. 
Meanwhile, you have already given your own armpit a sniff and fixed your hair in the reflection of Eddie’s microwave before you hear his boots on the wood floor again. 
“Did you get prettier while I was..?” he looks between you and his left-ajar door glowing with the bedside lamp he had left on. 
You roll your eyes at him before following him to sit on the sofa, leaving your bag and jacket on the well-worn cushion of the armchair next to it. He flicks some music on low and relaxes back into the cushions, watching you decide where to put yourself. 
“Any time you want to go, just say. I’ll drive you home,” he says quietly. You can feel the warmth of his arm where it stretches across the back of the sofa.
Scooting closer, you turn your body to face him a little more. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, Ed. Promise.”
He nods and welcomes you back under his arm, pressing his lips to your head while one big hand squeezes the top of your arm. “You smoke?” he asks, nodding to a little box like the lockbox you have for petty cash at work. When he flicks it open, you see some pre-rolled joints, papers and a bag of green. 
“Oh shit, you’ve been holding out on me, Munson,” you tease, poking his ribs before he sits back next to you with a joint and his Bic lighter. 
Eddie flashes his brows upward as he sticks it between his lips to light up. “Something something… Not mixing business and pleasure?” he says, muffled by the joint. He takes a hit before offering it to you, fingers brushing as you raise your brows in turn. 
“Oh yeah? I think we’re doing plenty of that tonight.” You take a drag with a smiling mouth as Eddie’s eyes darken and flash mischief again. 
“Yeah, think so. Been thinking about it a lot longer than I’ll ever admit though,” he says, watching how your breath catches and you cough a little. He tuts playfully, “Am I going to need to show you how, or are you pretending so I’ll shotgun you?” 
You fan your hand in front of your face to give yourself some air before flipping him off. “Be nice, s’been a while.” You tap your fingers against his knee. “Wait, go back. How long have you been pining over me?” You’re more careful when you take your next hit, raising your brows expectantly at Eddie.
Eddie rolls his eyes as he takes the joint back; after another hit, he taps the ash off the end. “Not your business.”
“Absolutely my business. Go on. Was it when I wore that little dress to the Christmas party? Oh no, I bet it was when I spilt that pitcher of beer on my stupid white shirt… Fuck, I forgot that.” 
Eddie remembers both vividly (especially the little dress) but no, it was way before either of those incidents. “You going to keep annoying me ‘til I tell you?” 
“Yep.” You grin and watch him take a long slow hit. His lips wrap around the end and his cheeks hollow, showing off those sharp cheekbones. “Tell me,” you sing. 
He holds the smoke in before sighing it out with his head back against the sofa to look at the ceiling. His head turns to look at you instead. “Maybe like… the first shift we worked together? Maybe the second, either way, you were shaking up spicy margaritas or somethin’, had this little smirk on your face. Then later you asked me for a cigarette and the rest is history…” 
Your cheeks heat at his confession and Eddie’s do the same. He’s embarrassed and you feel like an idiot for letting your hang-ups get in the way of really seeing Eddie and giving him a chance. 
“Jesus, Ed.” You squeeze his arm, just below the flurry of bats tattooed there. 
His arm sizzles where you touch him - well, that’s how it feels to Eddie anyway. “We got a good thing going though, I mean I really do enjoy it. Making you huff at me and roll your eyes. Fuck.” His smile is cheeky, a little dirty as he licks his lower lip. 
You laugh together and let him bring the joint to your mouth. Your eyes slip closed as you inhale before opening again to see Eddie watching you. It reignites the spark low in your gut as you begin to feel nice and fuzzy around the edges. 
Eddie takes one last hit before saving the rest, stubbing the joint in the ashtray on the arm of the sofa. His eyes don’t stray from yours as you crawl into his lap. 
You twist one of his curls around your fingers; his hair is soft and the curls springy. “Guess it was like…perverse flirting or really long foreplay?”
“Mm, hot.” He squeezes your thigh. “I’m good with both of those. That is if you let me take you out. A real date.”
You pretend to consider it, though you are already in his lap, in his home, ready to give him anything he asks for. “Yeah, I’d like that. Last night was real nice, just talking with you. Just… get me some flowers instead of punching a guy next time?” 
He copies your faux-consideration and nods, “Deal.”
Said deal is sealed with a kiss; this one is sweet and warm, soft even. You both know you are skipping ahead of your date, but as you smile against each other’s mouths, Eddie thinks he might just keep you in his lap forever if you let him. 
Your lips press and slide, tongues tangle and tease as the intensity simmers to a boil again. His hands roam up your thighs and around to grasp two handfuls of you, pulling you close as you press yourself against him. You can feel the hot breaths through his nose against your cheek, and Eddie wants to groan at the feeling of your breasts pushed up against him. Your bravery builds in tandem with how much you want and need him and you start up a slow roll of your hips. 
Eddie swears against your mouth, “Shit, you feel good.” He squeezes his hands and pushes his own hips up, letting you feel how thick and hard he is for you. 
Your whimper makes him crazy-mad with lust, Eddie’s lips feeling the vibration as he kisses your throat and finds that spot on your neck again. He wants to mark it, hear what noise that would pull from your pretty, kiss-bitten mouth. From the corner of his eye, he sees the flutter of your lashes, the way your mouth drops open. He thinks you are so pretty and it makes the ache in his chest pulse like a bruise. 
You direct him back to your lips with a gentle tug, opening your eyes before you press a kiss to his lower lip before leaning back enough to untuck and pull off your t-shirt. Eddie’s jaw twitches as he feasts his eyes on the black lace cups you fill out so perfectly, the glint of your necklace beneath the hollow of your throat. 
He moves both hands back to your waist where the denim cuts in, fingertips skating the bare skin above. “Can I?” he asks, looking up to your eyes. 
Instead of answering, you cover both hands with your much smaller ones, guiding them upward until you feel the warmth of his hands cover and cup the weight. 
“You’re gorgeous,” Eddie whispers, looking at your face again as his thumbs seek and stroke the pebbled nipples beneath. 
Eddie had never been subtle when he checked you out at work; he made playful and bawdy comments his cover story to get away with letting his eyes linger a little too long on your chest. You let him away with it every time, knowing you would get him riled up another way later that shift or on the next one. 
When you look down, the sight and feel of his guitar-scarred hands on your chest make you bite your lip hard. Your palms skate over the gooseflesh of Eddie’s arms, over the bulk of his biceps and shoulders as he learns how to make you keen for him with just his hands on your breasts. You pull him in for another filthy kiss and blindly glide your fingers down his chest to the top of his trousers. You have already felt how hard he is under the roll and grind of your hips, but it’s not enough. Eddie deserves to be touched and tasted after all this time, pining over you. Not because you pity him, you want to make up for lost time. 
His hips press upward, seeking out your touch; you adjust yourself to straddle one of his thighs and flip the hem of his t-shirt up to get at the button and zip. Your eyes are fixed on the hard line of him pushing up against the fabric; your fingers brush over it before undoing the fastenings, making his breath catch in his throat. 
“I want you so bad,” he murmurs, tilting his head up to kiss your jaw again. That makes you pulse right between your legs; you relish the firmness of his thigh pressing against you there as he kisses his way back to your lips. You pull away only to push the black work pants and tartan cotton boxers down enough to get at him, to see him. 
Eddie watches your eyes flash when you see the thick length of him, brushing your fingertips up and down to watch it kick with arousal. You nuzzle against his cheek as you take him in your hand, telling him how big and pretty his dick is before beginning to stroke him. In your mind, you’re thinking about how he will feel inside you and in your mouth, but you try to focus on kissing his neck and learning how he likes to be touched. He’s rock hard and weeping at the tip, it makes your mouth water.
“You think about me when you do this for yourself?” you ask, pausing to lick your hand before grasping him again. The tinge of salt on your tongue makes you want more. 
Eddie nods, eyebrows pinching together. “Fuck, I do. Tried not to, but I can’t help it.” 
That makes you feel hot all over and you rock yourself against his thigh to relieve the pulsing between your legs. “M’here now, don’t need to pretend anymore, Eddie.” Your lips brush his jaw and the way he moans, the way he pulses with arousal in your hand, it makes you giggle. 
“You’re literally gonna kill me,” he groans and rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut. 
“I’m not. Promise. Just want you to feel good,” you say, and kiss him again when your hand picks up the pace. 
Eddie’s hips rock upward into your fist. His hand stills your arm and he has to take a few breaths before looking at you - his chocolate-button eyes are consumed by dilated pupils. “This’ll be over real fast if you keep that up, baby. You’ll never let me live that down.”
His head dips to kiss across the tops of your breasts before running his nose up along your throat. His head tilts toward his room. “Can we? Been thinking about you in my bed.” 
You nod, keep cool even though the butterflies in your stomach are back with a flurry of vengeance. Eddie grins, which sets you off too, and you tuck him back into his boxers before moving to let him stand. 
He offers you a hand and twirls you once. “Hold on. Let me just..” 
Eddie pauses, looks you up and down and you know he’s up to no good. Before you can figure him out he has you over his shoulder with a surprising show of strength. You squeal-laugh, slapping your hand on the back of his thigh. “EDDIE!” 
His laugh is throaty and rough - like an honest-to-god gremlin - and he just about manages to keep his pants up as he carries you to his room. “You seemed to like the idea of that earlier, what you complainin’ about, baby?” 
You can only laugh in response until you’re deposited onto his bed with more care and gentleness than anticipated. You lay back to catch your breath, cheeks warm and aching as you grin up at Eddie. You’re certainly not unimpressed by his ability to fireman-lift and carry you. He kneels to untie your boot-laces, then his own. You sit up and pop the button on your shorts before Eddie takes over, removing them along with your shoes to leave you in your only slightly mismatched underwear and bra - they’re both black, and Eddie doesn’t notice or care. All he sees is you, in his bed.
His t-shirt and pants are left in a heap with your clothes and in a moment he is with you, laying you back to kiss you everywhere. His hands and lips map your body, kissing freckles and stretchmarks, nuzzling the red mark your bra left around your middle when it’s removed and lost to the floor. He notes the ticklish spots on your ribs, saves them for later, and lavishes kisses on your bare breasts. 
As Eddie lays his body between your spread legs, you wish you had longer to see the new ink revealed to you but take the chance to stroke his hair like you have been wanting to. He practically purrs and chases the relaxing motion, leaning against your hand when he breaks his trail of kisses to the band of your underwear. The light is too dim to see how soaked they are, a darker shade of black between your legs caused by him, but Eddie knows it’s there and teases his fingers over the damp heat. He smiles when your hips jump up at the friction. 
His chin rests on your hip bone while he looks up. “This okay?” he checks, dipping his fingertips up past the elastic around the top of your thigh. He goes no further until you nod, breathe out ‘yes, please’.
You get the feeling that if Eddie was still wearing pants, your undies would go right in his back pocket. The thought of that alone makes you throb as Eddie looks at the feast in front of his eyes. 
“Oh she’s pretty,” he murmurs, biting his lip. “And so wet f’me…” 
You gasp when he finally touches you, stroking his finger down the seam of you. He swears and shifts his hips against the bed when he feels your wetness and watches his finger come away shiny. 
He pushes one kiss below your belly button before getting comfy, manoeuvring one leg over his shoulder with his arm around for good measure. His curls tickle against your leg but all you can focus on is how his tongue strokes and licks, how his lips suck and press. 
His name bounces off the poster-clad walls, your voice gaspy and ragged when his tongue circles your clit before pushing its way inside you to seek out your soak. 
“So sweet, I knew you would be.” His voice is a murmur against your cunt, there and gone again as he seals his lips around your clit. 
“Fuhhh- Eddie.” 
One hand balled in the duvet, the other a crown atop his dark curls as you shift your hips and help him find the angle that is just right. He is rewarded with a scalp-burning tug and a guttural moan you can’t even begin to be embarrassed by as he feasts on you like a starved man. 
His fingers squish your doughy thigh before he slows to a pause - it’s brief and yet you whine in complaint. You feel his breathy laugh against your folds, his murmured ‘easy, baby’. Eddie stopped only to remove the rings on his right hand so that he could push one, then two, deep inside seeking out your g-spot before you can comprehend that his rings are on your fingers for safekeeping. 
His eyes are fixed on you; your heaving chest and breasts, the blissed-out expression on your face. He knows when he has found it, feeling you gush in time with a wet, wobbly moan of his name and the pained-by-pleasure look that graces your pretty face. 
“That’s it, huh? Good girl,” he murmurs. He earns another loud moan as you arch your back to chase absolute bliss. 
Eddie’s hips roll against the mattress - if you had the brain capacity to notice you would surely die on the spot. Your heart already feels like it is about to leap from your chest, blood pounding in your ears as he keeps up the pace and pressure. He can hear and feel how close you are as your voice gets higher, begging brokenly ‘yes, yes! Eddieeee!’ when you free fall over the edge. 
Your body goes tense and then boneless as he works you through it, not letting up until you nudge his head with your thigh. “Too mm-much,” you slur, hips twitching. Eddie presses gentle kisses and murmurs words of praise against your sensitive sex; he leans into how you stroke his head while you come back to the land of the living. 
“Y’okay?” he asks, smiling up at you with shiny lips. He eases his fingers out, marvels at just how soaked they are in the golden glow of the bedside light before kneeling up and licking them clean. “Knew you’d be sweet, sugar.” He winks and you curl in on yourself as you shake with laughter. 
“You’re a menace, Munson. Remind me how you've been single all this time when you can do that?”
You take his hand, pulling him down so he is lying on top of you. He’s hard against your hip, but isn’t pushy with getting you to do something about it as he lies with you, holding you as you bask in the afterglow. 
“Guess I had this really big weird crush on a pretty girl, got me in a dry spell,” he teased. He smacks a smooch to your cheek and makes a pleased little noise when you pull him in for a proper kiss, taking your cheek in his ring-less hand. 
You let yourself feel a little smug as you drag your fingertips up his back, swirling and stroking until they brush the band of his boxers. “Do you have condoms?” you whisper against his lips, hoping that the dry spell won't ruin your plans.
Eddie nods and peels himself away to kneel up and reach over to his messy bedside table, digging an almost full box from the top drawer. He squints at the date and takes one from the packet with a pleased grin, “We’re in luck.”
You reach out to palm him through the straining cotton, feeling the growing damp spot and smiling up at him as his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip. You sit up, pushing his boxers down with both hands. They join the rest of the forgotten clothes on the floor while you get your hands back on Eddie’s body. You see more ink usually hidden beneath his clothes; you want to look at each tattoo, study it and ask him what it means, listen to him tell you more stories and secrets. But there’s plenty of time for that. 
Eddie smiles against your mouth when you wrap your fingers around him again, chancing a glance to watch your hand - your hand heavy with his rings - stroking him. His hips jerk almost of their own volition; his brain has most certainly gone static. “Jesus, fuck,” he murmurs. 
You catch on a moment later and giggle against his shoulder. “That got you going, huh? Me wearing your rings…”
“You get me going. That’s just extra hot.” His voice catches when you squeeze him again, and he calls you a devil woman one more time. You’re getting used to it, kinda like it. 
The foil packet crinkles under Eddie’s knee. You push his chest gently, sending him to sit up against the headboard so you can make his lap your throne again. Without hesitation, you tear the foil and roll the latex down over the diamond-hard length that’s weeping for you to sit on it. He steadies your hips as you hold the base of him, sinking down through the stretch and pinch eased only by how soaked you still are. 
It’s intense, the burn and the closeness. Eddie’s forehead against yours as you watch him watching you take him inside. The lingering tendrils of the weed you smoked together make it all so deliciously fuzzy and warm. Neither of you makes a move, settling into the tight heat and fullness of Eddie inside you. 
His fingers stroke your hips while yours twirl the ends of his hair, touch his silver chain and brush up his neck so that you can cup his jaw and kiss him again. You hold on to each other tighter as you begin to raise and roll your hips, savouring the stretch until your body tells you to move faster, harder. 
“Look how pretty you are,” Eddie murmurs, taking in the bounce of your breasts and the way your jaw hangs open as you move in his lap. “Yeah, that’s my girl. Are you my girl, baby?” 
You whimper, holding him tighter and closer as you nod. “I’m yours, Eddie. All yours.” Your voice wobbles but not because you’re unsure, you’re just feeling so good, so full. 
Eddie groans deep in his throat, squeezing your hips and ass tighter as he helps you to bounce. You pause, focusing on rolling rather than rising to ease the burn in your wobbly thighs; it makes you whimper against his neck. It’s so much but not enough; so good, it’s frustrating.
“Shhh, I got you. You’re just feelin’ too good, huh?” he murmurs, nodding with you when you give a small ‘uh huh’. “Yeah, good girl.”
Your brows crease as you keep rutting your hips. “You feel so big. Fuck, Ed…” 
“You gonna let me do the hard work, hmm? You just lay back and look pretty for me, princess.” His voice is like hot honey, making you drip in his lap. He feels you pulsing, making his hold on your hip tight enough to leave a bruise as he gathers his composure. He’s wanted this so bad for so long, refuses to let himself (and you) down by busting early like a teenager. 
You nod, blissed out as he runs his hands over your warm body. Eddie is careful, so gentle, as he helps you to move up and off of him. He guides you to lay back, comfy on the pillows that smell just like him. You can’t resist nuzzling into them as he makes his way back between your legs. 
“Comfy?” he asks, palming your thigh as you hook your legs over his hips. He watches your eyes, sees that you are a little more with it now, with him. He can’t wait to see you dreamy-eyed and blissed out beneath him. 
You nod and squeeze his hips. “Very comfy.” He sees how your lips pout, asking for a kiss without words.
As if he could say no, refuse you the very thing he himself is craving. 
Eddie leans forward, arms braced on either side of your head and presses his lips to your cheeks, nose and forehead. He laughs quietly when you scowl all mean before you soften at the brushed blessing of his lips against yours.
He reaches down and takes himself in hand, stroking a few times before rubbing the tip against your cunt. He imagines how this would feel without the condom, feels the hot winding pull in his abdomen at the thought before your voice brings him back. He smiles and nudges his nose against yours, mirroring the rub down below.
“Please,” you whisper, lips catching Eddie’s. “Fuck me.”
The eye contact is almost too much, a burning intensity, but you feel hypnotised to keep your eyes on him as he pushes inside. 
You squeeze your lips together, feeling that stretch again, and watch how Eddie’s brows pinch. 
“You feel unreal, baby.”
He rolls his hips and pushes the rest of the way in. Lashes flutter and your jaw drops open. He feels so deep, it’s like he’s all the way in your chest. 
After a moment he begins to thrust slowly, dragging himself halfway out before pushing all the way in again and again and again. Eddie drinks in the little whines and moans that spill from your lips. 
“Don’t go shy on me now,” he whispers, brushing your hair back. When his hips rock again you feel him press against that spot that makes you see stars and there is no way you can keep quiet. 
“There we go, is that it?” Eddie asks, repeating the motion. Your back arches and he hikes your leg higher, almost folding you in half as his thrusts get harder, faster.
You can feel tears pricking your eyes, feeling almost overwhelmed with pleasure. Through the sting, you see Eddie’s clenched jaw, the meaty cord in his neck straining and the rosy glow on his cheeks. 
“Eddie, m’so close,” you whimper, almost tearful as you squeeze his forearm.  
“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it. Fuck.” He huffs through his nose when you flutter around him and he leans over you more, spreading you wider still as he begins to pound his hips into you. He is barely holding on, feeling hot all over as he fucks you, wishes it could last longer but you’re both so tightly wound.
There’s a perfect press and drag against your clit that winds that cord of pleasure inside you tighter and tighter. Your mouths press together; barely a kiss, more a shared moan. One particularly hard thrust brings you to your climax with a broken moan against Eddie’s chin. Your nails press into his rear and pull him in to rut against that spot, fucking you through the most intense orgasm of your life as he meets his own peak with a husky throaty groan.
You feel like you're floating, fallen over the edge in each other's arms.
The weight of Eddie on you brings you slowly back to earth, breath huffing against your neck as you stroke up his back and up into his curls. You take a deep breath in; when you exhale it's shaky and wobbly almost like a quiet sob. 
Eddie summons the strength to press up and look at you, seeing your dazed smile and warm wet cheeks. “Hey,” he wipes the tears gently, “Oh shit. Did I hurt you?” he asks, panic spiking the glowy daze. 
You shake your head, almost giggling when you speak. “No, no. Fuckin’... amazing.” You pull Eddie back down and wrap yourself around him, holding each other as you come back to earth. A few more tears escape and Eddie wipes them away with such reverence. You stay quiet until you can string a sentence together. “That was incredible.” 
He smiles, cupping your face, and kisses you before carefully rolling you onto your sides to face each other to run your fingers over each other's warm bodies and share more kisses. Once he is sure you’re actually okay, he excuses himself to throw the condom away and returns with water and a damp flannel. He spends a moment cleaning you up as you gulp the water down, then finishes the rest and fills it again before closing his bedroom door. 
“You want a t-shirt?” he asks, pulling on a pair of clean boxers before throwing his hair into a low bun.
Despite the blanket, you feel a little shivery and accept the offer. 
He helps you into a well-loved Dio t-shirt before pulling the duvet over you both. Your legs are tangled together as you lie together, as close as you can. Outside, past the closed curtains, the sun is already starting to peek on the horizon.
You hum tiredly against Eddie’s shoulder when you remember the weighty silver on your hand and tap his hip gently. “Hey, Romeo. Your rings.” Your hand comes up in front of his face, wiggling your fingers. 
Eddie smiles, a lazy curl of his lips, and kisses the tips of your fingers before taking them off for you. He reaches back to drop them on his bedside table.
You want to stay awake, stay in the bubble of bliss, but the pull of exhaustion is too strong. 
“Sleepy?” Eddie brushes a kiss on your forehead and flicks the lamp off when you nod. 
“Eddie? Tonight was amazing,” you whisper against his chest.
He smiles in the dark, squeezes your hip. “Yeah, it was. I’ll make tomorrow amazing too if you’ll let me, but you gotta sleep first. Bet you’re really grumpy when you’re tired.”
“Shut up,” you laugh, hiding your face in the pillow. In the dark, you can just see the outlines of each other, shapes and shadows. “Lemme sleep and you can take me for breakfast. Like a date or somethin’.” 
He hides his grin poorly, you can see his teeth flash even with your eyes almost closed. “Nah, breakfast is part of the package. Lemme plan something for our date.” He gives you one last kiss, “Sleep now, sugar.” 
You feel warm, so happy and safe in his arms as you fall asleep. If Eddie asked, you would never leave his arms, leave his bed. And Eddie? Eddie lingers on the precipice of sleep, ready to drift once he knows you’re sleeping soundly. He kisses your forehead one last time before closing his eyes, both holding each other in an utterly blissful sleep. 
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dungeonpuppykai · 2 months
Text
| Too Sweet |
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Description: You and Steve try to put 'it' in for the first time after his serum procedure. 
Pairing: Soft-Dark 40's Post-Serum Steve Rogers | Lover!You. 
Warning(s): Soft-Dark!Steve, 40's misogyny and courting bc let's be so fr, obsession, daddy kink, allusions to spanking, dumbification, power imbalance, corruption kink, fluffy smut, p-in-v penetration that y'all are STRUGGLING with, dash of breeding kink, they love each other, smut with plot.  
Note: @chxrryhansen 's new Too Sweet Steve edit is responsible for this and she doesn't even know it, pfft!
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"Steve!" Your protest is half giggle and half whine as you wince before landing a punishing smack to your lover's shoulders. "Ouch!" His body is also vibrating due to the humor that the two of you find in this strange situation. 
"Come on, baby" he rasps out against your ear, his elbow that presses into your pillow besides your head causing it to dip towards itself. "I am trying my best here, bear with me a little" try he sure is doing. You can almost feel him fighting against his impulse to just fuck all and push inside your tiny entrance that has never faced a girth this big. 
"I knowww~" you whine as you press your knees against his sides that have become wide and muscular since the procedure. "But it's still ouchie" Steve sighs as he freezes the little bit of pushing that he was doing.
You feel bad, you really do. 
Because it is as hard for you to hold back as it is for him.
Pressed up against your lover that you haven't properly had like this in a week, your bare skins nearly leeched to each other's, one of his rough manly hands fondling your breasts as the one he's holding up his heavy body with strokes your hair to comfort you, the feeling of his stern muscles digging into the tender insides of your thighs and then his cock that you need to save your life at this point so close to your weeping walls yet so far away that you can lose your mind from the frustration. 
But it just hurts so fucking much! 
You had always thought your lover's size to be a decent one because it kept you satisfied and very happy. 
But now…
This. 
You did not want to be an ungrateful brat, as Steve would say, because you weren't a stranger to the valor that he held for his country and you had always done your best to cheer him on so you weren't to be misunderstood.
But good Lord above, they had swapped your cotton candy lover for a rough and tough beast who couldn't bear you being out of his sight for more than a few minutes. 
It seemed that whatever voodoo they worked in that fancy machine had also amplified his obsession with you, like everything else. 
Steve sighs as he kisses your cheek softly. You understand that he's a man and he has his needs that he has been compromising for a week because you recoil at the sight of his cock each time he tries to seduce you. "I've already stretched you out with three fingers, baby. At this point I might as well put my fist in there" you're on thin ice and you know it. 
No man is as considerate as he has been all these days as it is. 
Your cheeks burn and you flush hotly in embarrassment, letting out another whine as a result before landing a flustered punch on his arm. "I- It's not my fault if your fist would still be smaller than your dick!" Though your tone is one that has gotten you bent across his lap more times than you can count, the manner in which the indirect praise boosts his ego saves you this one time.
And his fingers weren't the easiest thing in the world either because they've grown three times their size!
"Aw, is Daddy's cock too big for your little baby pussy, honey?" You cannot help but let out a horrified guffaw as you cover your mouth, eyes wide. 
"Oh, my GOD, Steve!" He is grinning at how appalled you look because of his obscene words. "Stop with that! I told you the other day that it's not right!" You have no idea how, but two months ago your lover had picked up this strange pet name for himself that he liked to use whenever you two were having an intimate moment. 
"Oh, but baby" your back arches in an instant as you grunt and feel your claws fly to his shoulders that they dig into. He has started to push again. But your pussy is nearly as stubborn as he is, it seems. Because neither wants to back down. "Who put it in your pretty little head that you can decide what's right and wrong around here?" 
Your thighs tremble at the authority in his tone and you whine, feeling your ass cheeks clench at the way the girth of his tip feels around your sore band of muscles. Fuck, this is like losing your virginity all over again but only worse. 
You almost feel mad at yourself.
Because you're so wet and prepared.
Ready.
Just why can't it go where you need it most?!
"N- No…" The smell of his shampoo hits your nose when he dips his head into the crook of your neck to make a new love bite, both to try and distract you as well as mark you as his. "D- Didn't mean that, Shtevie, sowwy~" you mumble meekly and he deeply hums against your skin. 
"Good girl" if it weren't for the way in which one of his hands lovingly caress your scalp, you would have teared up due to how small you suddenly feel. "Now shush up for Daddy and let him do this bratty little pussy in" an involuntary gasp leaves you again but you suppress it by kissing his moist temple so he can't hear it and think you are being disrespectful. Your baby pussy has irritated him enough this past whole week already. 
"Owiee…" You grunt again as you feel it breach its way into the initial curve as it has been doing for hours now. "S- So big, Daddy" what? No! You're not like your naughty lover! Y- You're just trying to somehow calm him down so you don't get in trouble! 
Like you did when you initially did not respond to his unrelenting advances in school and he ended up scoring really low in a test because of that so he dragged you out of drama class to bend you over and teach you a thing or two about manners and how to treat those who are nice to you. Then he made you apologize, kiss his cheek and cook him dinner at your house to make it up to him. 
You are glad he did that though, because Steve is your once in a lifetime and there can never be another like him. 
He just knows best. 
But that doesn't mean you are okay with getting punished just because your pussy is too tiny!
"Good babygirl" your lover grunts against your nipple that his mouth is latched onto now, hips doing their best to not damage you but still weasel his cock past the hard round shaped barricade of your pubic bone. "I know it's scary but you can trust Daddy because he knows that if that pretty little pussy can push out his brats one day, it can surely take this cock too." Steve loves how you shudder under him at the thought but still answer him Yes, Daddy. 
Because you are all his to do with whatever he pleases.
That is the reason why he shook hands with HYDRA and wiped out SHIELD the day he was transformed. 
Because HYDRA had promised him a comfortable future with you where he would not have to part with you for too long but still provide you the life that you truly deserved as his sweet little girl who loved and accepted him in a state that everyone had treated as a laughing stock. 
You were worthy of the world.
And he was determined to give it to you. 
.
I didn't mention the hydra plot twist up there because well, surprise! 
461 notes · View notes
exhaslo · 4 months
Note
Ok ok soooo what if you did like a fasion designer y/n and she is helping Miguel redesign his suit then like as she is measuring him or something she notices he is hard and like ✨smut✨
Oh, reader will take the measurements alright. Hopefully they can remember it *wink wink*
Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), slow sex, mirror sex
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"How did this happen?! I specifically remember both of us working on this suit, making it nearly impossible to tear!" You yelled towards a poor, nervous Peter.
"To be fair...It wasn't one of my villains."
"Oh? I'm sorry, I didn't know heroes could villain swap! Who the hell did you trade with? The Guardians of the Galaxy?" You scoffed, holding the destroyed suit in your hands.
"Easy, (Y/N), only I can bully them this much." Miguel said as he walked into your office, "You also have to remember, he's new."
"Which is why I helped him with the suit." You hissed lowly and tossed it back to the Peter, "You get to remake it. When done, I want to know who the hell you fought that tore the suit to shreds."
"..."
Peter kept quiet as he slowly made his way out of your office. The silence was more than enough for you to start assuming shit. Inhaling deeply, you walked over to your espresso machine and made both you and Miguel a cup of coffee.
"You know the work you do is above all," Miguel hummed as he took a seat on your couch. You gave him a pout,
"But it's never enough. How am I supposed to be helping you all make suits if they never hold up after a few fights?"
"They're not supposed too," Miguel reassured you, "Only special conditions like my original suit can withstand such events."
"But you won't let me touch the stuff."
"It's unstable for a reason." Miguel said with a heavy sigh and approached you from behind, "But, like everyone else. I need to upgrade my suit."
"Oh? No more blue and red?!" You gasped in shock, then grabbed his hands, "Ohhhhh, does this mean-"
"Yes, I'm letting you help me make a new suit."
You jumped with joy, nearly squealing at the thought of helping Miguel. The man liked to keep his toys to himself. That, and you would finally get a chance to measure him. There was a glint in your eyes as you observed him.
Miguel was a FINE man. Compared to all of the Spiders, he was definitely your type. When Miguel first approached you with the intension of making super hero suits, you nearly drooled at the thought. You loved a challenge.
And Miguel was your new target.
"So, when can I take the measurements?" You asked, handing Miguel a cup of coffee. Miguel raised a brow,
"I can have Lyla send them over-"
"Seriously? What the hell am I supposed to be here for then?" You huffed, giving Miguel a glare.
"Fine. Is tomorrow alright?"
"It's a date."
-------
Miguel was internally screaming as he sat in his office, staring at you on the cameras. The thoughts he had about you. The things you did to him. Miguel had a damn good reason why he never went to you for his suits. You brought out the worst of him.
Even now, the thought of you being up close to him was turning Miguel on. He was going to have to take precautionary measures in order not to lose control.
"Fuck."
--------
Today was the day. You had your morning coffee, your best outfit and your best panties attitude. No one was going to disturb you today. Your office was closed to everyone expect Miguel. This was the chance of a lifetime.
Getting your station and measurements ready, you just smiled from ear to ear. Your notepad was set aside, ready for you to take down Miguel's numbers.
"(Y/N)? Are you here?" Miguel asked as he entered. You hurried over and locked the door,
"The chance of a lifetime is mine. Get your ass up on my stage! We begin with your chest!" You cheered. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he took his shirt off,
"At least one of us is enjoying this."
You were giddy with glee as you approached Miguel. Your gaze against his chest as you started to take his measurements. You could not lie, being this close to him was driving you crazy. His cologne smelled so good too.
You hummed quietly to yourself as your fingers stroked his chest. Every now and then you grabbed your pencil and wrote in your small notepad. Moving down to his hips, you kept your focus. Miguel's body was just perfect.
"(Y/N)...Maybe we should take a break," Miguel grunted lowly.
"Not yet," You muttered.
Your hands rested against the rim of his pants, reading the numbers on your measuring tape. Adjusting the tape, you leaned down in front of Miguel and felt your face burn up. His hard erection was right in front of your face.
"Ah-" Your eyes widen and without thinking, "Should I measure this too?"
"If you want," Miguel whispered.
Both of you weren't thinking.
Your fingers gripped Miguel's boxers, slowly pulling them down. Your attention was focused on his large, thick cock. With a gulp, you grabbed your measuring tape and wrapped it around his meaty shaft. A shudder ran down your spine, before you checked the length.
"Is this...proper...length?" You whispered, your fingers wrapped around his dick, "Or should I-"
"You should," Miguel groaned lowly.
You could feel your heartbeat in your panties as you leaned towards Miguel's dick. Your tongue gently swirling around his tip, listening to his low groans and grunts. You glanced at the mirrors all around you, the sight turning you on more.
You were on your knees with Miguel's dick in your mouth. Inhaling through your nose, you leaned forward and started to suck his dick. Your hands resting against his hips as you bobbed your head back and forth. His thick shaft hitting the back of your throat.
Your panties grew damper as you felt Miguel's bitter precum start to go down your throat. His hands gripping onto your hair as he started to move your mouth faster. The sheer length of his dick was starting to burn your throat as you gripped his hips.
"Fuck, hn, (Y/N)!" Miguel hissed.
Tears formed in the corner of your eyes as you tried to touch yourself. Unable to handle the burning sensation anymore, you pulled away from Miguel, panting heavy. Quickly, you stood up and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him.
Miguel was quick to follow as he nearly tore your pants, tossing them across the room. His talons ripping your panties as he started to rub his dick against your wet cunt.
"Hah~ You owe me...new underwear and pants now," You moaned, pressing your body against his. Miguel grunted as he pressed you against one of the mirrors,
"You wanted to take my measurements," He hissed, pressing his thick cock inside you.
"Hn~ Mhm~ Y-You wanted a suit,"
"I still do," Miguel hummed, sitting his dick nice and deep inside your tight velvet walls, "Do you still remember my size?"
"O-Of course!" You huffed, glancing at yourself in the mirror, "Y-You're way too big."
"Haha, but look how well you take me,"
A shiver ran down your spine as Miguel lifted your body closer to his. He spread your legs, allowing you to see his cock deep inside your dripping pussy. The sight alone was making you hot. With a slow thrust, you moaned, nearly shaking in his grip.
"Sucking me in so well," Miguel sucked against your neck as he continued his slow, yet rough thrusts, "This was why I didn't want you to measure me."
"Ah~ Ah~ Y-You should have, mhm~ let me, oh god~" You cried out, feeling yourself about to cum.
"You're right, I should have. Look at how perfect your pussy is sucking my dick in," Miguel grunted.
Turning your face to the mirror in front, you moaned as Miguel slapped his dick back inside you. Your eyes rolled back as you cam, crying out as he kept his slow thrusts. Miguel's hands gripped your breasts, pinching your nipples as he hummed against your ear,
"Do you still remember my measurements?"
"D-Deep~"
You trembled as your pussy fluttered against his dick. Miguel chuckled in response and pressed your body against the mirror, rubbing your clit as he moved even more slowly. You cried, begging for him to go faster.
"Not until you tell me my measurements."
"P-Perfect!" You cried out, moving your own hips, "S-So deep! S-So big ah~"
"Hm, good enough,"
You cried loudly as Miguel's pace finally fasten. His dick slamming against your cervix, causing you to cream and suck his cock more. Your body shaking as your juices started to stain your floor. Miguel grunted as he pulled you closer, reaching his own high.
"Want to watch me fill this pretty little pussy?" Miguel groaned. You nodded,
"Yes!"
Lifting you back up, Miguel held your legs open. His had you staring in the mirror with him, watching your own fucked out expression contort in pleasure. You gasped as Miguel pinched your clit once more, watching you cum against his cock once more.
You cried and leaned back, but Miguel kept your face towards the mirror. You gasped and moaned as he slapped himself once more inside you, filling you with his cum. Both of you took a minute to catch your breathe before Miguel set you down,
"Are you alright? Let me clean you up," Miguel said worriedly. You grabbed his hand,
"I may have forgotten your measurements."
"Oh?" Miguel said with a low chuckle. You glanced up at him, cheeks red with embarassment,
"I think I need a reminder."
"As many times as you need."
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I'll take his measurements any day. I mean hope you enjoyed!! Haha
725 notes · View notes
raitonsfw · 3 months
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𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: | 1 | Nikolai switched the plates on you, and suddenly the aphrodisiacs that were supposed to be coursing through his veins suddenly rushed through yours... | 2 | Round after round after round, Nikolai decided his cock was best spent nestled deep inside your cunt for the night– sleep evading your senses.
warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader... | 1 | aphrodisiacs, accidental drug usage, manipulation, teasing, dirty talk, desperation, mentions of multiple positions & kinks (anal, spanking, bondage, use of nikolai's ability for sexual purposes), petnames (dove, my love, my sweet) | 2 | pussy worship, cockwarming, dirty talk, p in v intercourse, creampie, hint of a breeding kink, petnames (princess, dove), he's lovey dovey here and slightly whiney (he doesn't wanna pull out)
a/n: | 1 | i found a way to include his ability hehe, this thirst had me reeling for a long while. wc: 600ish. | 2 | to cockwarm nikolai would be an honour... he's just sooo pretty. wc: 600ish. v-day m.list | m.list
thirst count: 2
divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics
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| 1 |
Oh, you didn’t think Nikolai would be so cruel. When you tried to stand from the confines of the table, you saw the smirk that leveled his face. “N-Nikolai, did you switch the food?”
“Whatever are you talking about, dove?” He smirked at you, his hand resting carefully against the nook of his gloved palm. His eyes had sparkled the very first time you took a bite of the dinner you had made for the two of you– one plate mixed with potent aphrodisiacs and the other simmered down with nothing but what was originally in the rice pot. 
You wanted to see him panting, ripping off his clothing, his cloak– yours too, just to be inside you, inside something that would calm him down from the painful ache of the aphrodisiacs… and the best part is he wouldn’t even know why he was like that. He’d be totally overwhelmed by the throb of his pretty cock, straining against his striped trousers and he wouldn’t even realize that you had put sexual stimulants in his rice until he was on his knees in front of you– begging for relief from his precious innocent girl. And that’s when he’d realize, his cards falling out of favor.
 It was the perfect plan to get him to submit to you for once. 
But you realized that your plan had totally backfired as your arousal dripped into the lace, pooling right underneath the warmth of your cunt. It was cool and sticky against your skin and you squirmed in your seat, a needy whine escaping your throat as you moved too suddenly, the lace rubbing up against your swollen clit. 
“My love, are you– aroused?” Nikolai had lifted from his seat with faux shock painting his face, his hand offering out towards your shoulder and you immediately tried to pull him down but he shifted back with a smirk. “Need some help?”
“Need you to fuck me– Lai, shit, I hate you…” And he only murmured as you cursed him for swapping the rice dishes. Your mind was absolutely whirling, your skin flushed hot and all you could think about was getting his cock inside you as soon as possible. You fucking needed it– honestly you needed anything at this point and your fingers came down to swipe at the wet material of your clothing, you were like a goddamn leaky faucet. Your pussy clenched around nothing as he tutted at you with a frowny face, moving to stand behind you. 
“No, no… I didn’t tell you to touch yourself.” He ran a finger down the underside of your chin before softly grabbing at it, making you peer towards his face above you and you tilted your neck up obediently. You didn’t care to listen to what he had to say after that though, your senses far gone from the grasps of reality.
You started to babble on about the ideas floating in your head. Normally, you’d keep quiet about your fantasies, but you couldn’t help yourself; it all came spilling out as you looked up at him, his heterochromatic eyes lurking with a mischievous smile. “Nikolai– can we try a new position? Want you to fuck me on this table, but not my pussy…” 
“Anal? Why not also try bondage, my sweet?” Nikolai had both hands on your shoulders now, careful to not rouse you too much as he bent down beside you. His silky braid fluttered against your back as he whispered in your ear, one glove escaping into his coat as he pulled out a wrap of ribboned rope from the golden portal within “Maybe I can get you in the perfect position, where I can spank you for being such a bad girl…” 
Yes, Nikolai was cruel– vile and you practically felt his devious grin floating behind your ear as he swept down to bind you.
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| 2 |
“Sorry, princess… Couldn’t go another second without your pussy squeezing me soo tightly.” Nikolai groaned into your ear as he bottomed out in you again, for the third time that night. 
“Lai…” You moaned into his mouth as he pressed it against yours, reveling in the way he slid in and out of you feverishly. You were tired, but you just couldn’t resist him; it was Valentine’s Day after all and you barely got to see him with his carded debut in his shady organization. 
He hiked your legs up against his shoulders, his braid fluttering down his chest and you threw your head back in a bitey moan. You knew his eyes were gleaming on your folds, taking him in so nicely as they swiped slick onto his cock. Even behind his card mask you could recognize the shine to them from the turquoised scar; he was focusing solely on how wet you were and how so fucking pliant you were, sucking him in with every thrust. Nikolai was a creature of habit, you knew all his tricks and that made you perfect for him, perfect for the length of his cock nearly folding you in two.
“Gonna fill you up again– Ah, c’mon dove, don’t be shy…” He teased, voice rough and his white knuckled gloves came up to brush your arm away from your face. Every roll of his hips had you in a trance, rutting against your sweet spot and gripped at his hands as they intertwined with yours. A smirk plastered onto his face as he saw your eyes roll back when he worked his thrusts faster into you. 
You whimpered as you felt his cock twitch inside of you and a weak moan fell from his lips as he came inside of you, some of it leaking out as he fucked it into you with a heavy sigh. He had buried his face into the crook of your neck not long after, lavishing kisses against it as you rode out your high. As you regained your senses, the feeling in your cunt felt a little odd and you realized Nikolai hadn’t pulled out yet. 
Did he want to go another round?
“Nikolai.” You said in a quiet tone as you rubbed your palms up the sides of his waist which in turn, he shuddered. “Are you not going to pull out?” 
“Don’t think so.” He said flatly. You couldn’t detect if this was a joke or not, but he didn’t budge even as you wiggled underneath him. “Hey–!” 
“Lai, come on.” You said with a short laugh, sleep trudging up within your eyelids and you were a few minutes from passing out. “Come lay next to me.”
“But you’re soo warm around me… I don’t wanna pull out.”  He muttered into your skin, his tongue laving at a bruise he marked on you earlier in the day. You whined at the soreness of it, scratching at his back lovingly to try to get him to roll off of you. You were quickly losing the battle though as he dug himself deeper into you, his cock snug and his chest flush with yours. Nikolai let out a soft noise of content as your body relaxed against his, his hands mimicking yours against your waist.
You watched as his head bobbed up to stare at you and you reached up with a small smile, removing his card mask to reveal his other eye. Jade peeked back at you in a mischievous glance, a coy smile written on his lips. “There you are. Did you want to sleep like this?” 
“Absolutely.” His voice was like static to you, raspy and quiet as his eyes etched with sleep whilst looking at you. And you figured, why not let him? 
You just have to be ready to wake up later on… with his thrusts shaking you awake.
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416 notes · View notes
fruit-sy · 1 month
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Kaycee's Mod: P03 Edition Comic + Ideas
l. The takeover
What if P03 got the OLD_DATA first instead of Leshy? That's basically the premise of this AU lol
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II. Intro
Kaycee is not impressed with P03's storytelling
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III. Skill Issue
I imagine Kaycee was mainly in charge of Grimora's and maybe partly Leshy's development, and while she was familiar with the other Scrybes' gameplay, she wasn't too good at playing them
May be lore inaccurate as ik Kaycee is a card gamer nerd, but even pros take Ls sometimes :p
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IV. Playing Favourites
Despite not knowing Leshy is also self aware, I like to think Kaycee would still smash from just knowing him from the base game lol.
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V. Broken Fight
Average unfinished boss fight
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This was Inspired by the "P03 in Kaycee's mod" mod 👀
I saw that they updated the mod a couple of months ago so I played it and I got dragged back to a mini Inscryption brainrot again lol- See, brainrots don't die, they lay dormant until they take over your life again asldkfjasdlf
Anyways, the mod's super fun and it consumed my life for a couple of days!! Also idk if they balanced the mod more or if I just got really lucky but I have more success in finishing runs compared to 2 yrs ago where it took abt a week for me to finish ONE run WITHOUT challenges;; regardless, I enjoyed the new additions to the mod :3
I made a post following this same swap AU idea almost 2 years ago, but I felt compelled to put a little bit more effort this time. I didn't take this too seriously so there may be some handwaving in regards to like, the canon because I have a headache trying to follow it too much lmao
but P03 and Kaycee are my faves, so im just having fun making this silly comic :^]
(I have a couple more pages sketched out but idk when I'll finish it. but uh, yeah, I'll probably have another post following this up sometime in the future in case anyone's wondering 👀)
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mountainsandmayhem · 18 days
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Tess's Treasures
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18+, MDNI
Pairing: Tess x Joel x OC!Female x Female!Reader Summary: After perfecting the art of pickpocketing, you’re invited to join Tess’s Treasures. They’re infamous around the QZ and the initiation process is not what you expect, but exactly what you need. CW: If you’re not into foursomes/bi girl shit then you are in the wrong place. MFFF, bisexual females, fingering, masturbating, oral, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink. Unprotected p in v. Overstim and squirting. Please read this at your discretion. If this isn’t for you, that’s perfectly fine. AN: You can thank @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for being good little girls and filling my mind with depraved and twisted thoughts. This fic has truly been a labour of love, taking me almost 6 weeks to put together and edit. I'm not the least bit sorry about the word count, grab a snack, probably some electrolytes and maybe some spare batteries lol. Special shoutouts to @pedritoferg for their kind words when my imposter syndrome had the best of me. As always, dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Friendly reminder that I'm phasing out my tag list, follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for new fics.
Word Count: 9005
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Becoming one of Tess’s Treasures seemed like a fallacy, a pipe dream. A fairytale life only reserved for the most vicious females that prowl the shady streets of the Boston QZ, and you aren’t a killer. A thief, yes; but not a killer. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure if the organization existed. Sure, Tess was a real person, but did she actually have a horde of women she called her Treasures? 
She was infamous in the seedy underbelly of Boston, her and her henchman Joel. Granted, no one ever seemed to see Joel, unless he was about to kill you. And sometimes not even then, he was often hiding in the shadows, shadows darker than the demons that allegedly haunted him.
Outbreak day happened when you were just little, you don’t remember much of the journey from your old hometown to Boston. Everyone here is poor, doing what they can to get credits to buy basic human needs; making trades and swaps were what most people did. You, however, were much more clever. After discovering a book detailing the art of sleight of hand you started practicing, and now you can take anything, right in front of someone's eyes, without them noticing. 
Or so you thought. After stealing a pistol from a FEDRA officer and replacing it with a banana, all while having a conversation with him in broad daylight, Tess approaches you.
“Come to my apartment next week. I wanna see if you have what it takes. Mum’s the word.” It’s a hushed whisper as she passes you, slipping a small card in your back pocket as she goes. 
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You follow the cards' instructions, arriving at the exact time, going up to the top floor and then doing two quick, sharp knocks on the worn out door.
“Enter,” Tess says from inside. The door creaks on your way in. It’s the hottest day Boston has seen in years, and even in your small sundress, the room is stifling hot. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and something else that you can’t quite put your finger on. There’s a fan oscillating in the corner, the paint chipped off the cage that protects the blades. As it blows warm air past you, you realize that the other smell is sex. 
Tess is sitting on the couch to the right of the door, two mismatched wooden kitchen chairs in front of her. Straight ahead from the door is a small kitchen, and to the back left of the studio style apartment is the bed. Unmade, sheets tousled like someone just woke up, but based on the heady taste of the air in the room, the messy sheets are definitely from two people rolling around in them.
“Come sit,” Tess says firmly. You click the door shut behind you and head to the empty chair that’s waiting for you. The other chair is occupied by a small brunette woman. She has long slender limbs and doesn’t look like someone who would hang out with raiders, poachers and drug runners. Her hands are folded in her lap, ankles crossed under the chair. She doesn’t look over at you.
Tess leans forward, spreading her denim clad legs wide and resting her elbows on her knees. “Do you two know who I am?”
You both nod slowly. Up close, Tess is terrifying. She could have you killed with just a snap of her fingers, and Joel would do it however she wanted. From what you’ve heard, very slowly was her favourite way to have people eliminated from this earth. Quick deaths weren’t something she enjoyed when someone had fucked her over. 
“Speak!” she commands. The brunette jumps and even though you’ve mastered the art of pushing your fears down and masking your emotions, a small butterfly flaps its wings behind your navel. 
“Yes,” you say hoarsely as a meek ‘yes ma’am’ sounds beside you.
“Good. So then you know the….perks of being one of my Treasures,” Tess’s eyes twinkle as she says perks like she knows something you don’t. Like it’s more than the better living arrangements, food and medical care. Better than a sense of family and belonging.
She continues, “I’ve seen both of you at work. You,” her steel grey eyes are laser focused on yours, “With your quick hands, and you,” she adjusts her attention to the petite woman beside you, “With your ability to talk a man into almost anything. Before you can officially call yourself my Treasures, there’s a small matter of your…” Her voice trails, mouth ticking up on one side as she cocks her head and drags her eyes across both of your bodies.
“Well, your initiation.” She leans back onto the couch, knees falling wider. One arm drapes across the back, the worn cushion deflating slightly. The other rests on her thick, toned thigh. “I take care of my girls, but they need to show me that they can listen.”
The air seems thicker, and harder to fill your lungs with. Every move of her eyes is suggestive. Is she saying what you think she’s saying? You feel yourself begin to soak through your panties at the possibility of getting to fuck.
You aren’t left wondering for long as she points a long finger at the girl beside you, “Stand up, take off your clothes.”
“W-what?” the girl sputters. 
“I said to stand up and take off your fucking clothes,” the words almost seem to burn as she repeats herself. 
The girl stands so quickly that the chair falls, making a loud crash against the worn hardwood flooring. She stares at Tess for a moment, unsure if she should pick up the chair before she decides against it and pulls her blue cotton baby tee off, revealing a lacy white bra underneath. 
“That’s it,” Tess groans. “Take off those little shorts next.”
With shaky hands she moves to the button fly, each drag of the metal on denim seems to echo in the silent room. Tess licks her lips as she slides her shorts down her legs and kicks them to the side. “Come here,” Tess says, her voice already husky and deep. The woman walks over to Tess, stopping between her spread legs. Tess’s strong fingers grip the girl's hips and she gasps. “Turn around,” she urges, dragging her fingers along her hips as the mystery girl spins.
“What’s your name?” Tess asks. The girl's bright green eyes land on you and you see her breath hitch in her slender throat. She’s petite, probably a few inches shorter than you and at least a foot shorter than Tess. You’ve always been attracted to both men and women and there’s no denying that this little stranger is absolutely stunning. 
“Lydia,” she croaks.
“Are you nervous, Lydia?” Tess asks, cupping the globes of her ass in her hands, kneading and squeezing. Spreading them gently, exploring what she’s about to claim as hers. 
She nods her head and lets out a shaky moan of agreement.
“Go pick up your chair and sit down, Lydia.” Tess swats her bum as she walks away and Lydia yelps quietly.
Tess’s eyes now come to you. Staring straight into your soul. I’m sure if she could, her eyes would incinerate your clothes right off of you. It’s intoxicating. You, unlike Lydia, are not nervous. Not in the slightest. If anything, Tess’s attention on you only makes you wetter. Your panties are practically soaked through already. “And you, my little thief. What’s your name?”
You say your name confidently and squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease some of the ache that Tess’s newfound attention is bringing to the apex of your thighs.
Tess whispers your name back at you and it sends a shiver down your spine. She continues, “Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me.”
Lydia swallows loudly beside you as you drop to the floor, crawling seductively to Tess, head held high. The worn hardwood planks creak under your weight. Even the floor is warm and sticky from the weather. You make it to her, sitting back on your heels like the good little girl you are. She leans forward and tugs on the hem of your dress and her syrupy voice says, “Arms up”. You lift your ass slightly and she slips your dress up and over your head. It was too hot for a bra today so you’re left in just a lacy pink thong.
“Mmmm, look at those pretty tits,” Tess hums, her fingers gliding along the plush soft skin of your breasts before ghosting over your nipples making the arm whoosh from your lungs. “You like that? Me touching your nipples.”
You breathe out a yes, eyes shutting as she pinches your pebbled buds roughly. “Oh god, yes.”
The old worn couch groans as Tess sits back, “Go take her bra and panties off.”
You climb to your feet and walk over to Lydia, holding out a hand and helping her stand. You move behind her and trail your fingers down the soft skin of her spinal column before popping the clasp of her bra. Lydia slides it off her body, arms crossing to block her now exposed breasts. Goosebumps rise across her from head to toe. You shush her and rub up and down her arms. Lydia relaxes under your touch and she drops her arms, Tess nods at you once, a silent encouragement to continue. You get down on your knees, hooking your index fingers in the waistband of her panties and sliding them down. Her round ass is in your face, she smells like fresh linen and rain. You fight the urge to kiss the sensitive little spot right where her ass crack starts.
“So fucking beautiful. Sit back down, Lydia.” Tess says and you want to cry out in protest. Her body is so enticing, soft and warm. She focuses back on you and says, “Stand in front of Lydia so she can take your panties off.”
You stand gracefully, biting your bottom lip as you maneuver yourself in front of Lydia. “Spread your legs,” you whisper, determined to help her so you can put on the best show for Tess. Lydia parts her knees and you twirl to face Tess, gathering your hair in one hand as Lydia slides your soaked panties down your legs. You kick them to the side and seductively drop your hair, smiling sweetly at Tess.
“Sit,” Tess barks. Lydia gasps behind you, but you like this; being told what to do. Commanded. Used. Tess continues after you sit, “I want you both to touch yourselves. Show me how you like it, but don’t come. You haven’t earned that yet. Understood?”
“Yes ma’am,” Lydia says, looking down at her hands. You nod eagerly, already sliding your ass to the edge of the chair and spreading your legs wide for her. Tess stares at your glistening core hungrily, leaning forward again to rest her muscular forearms on her knees. Her hair falls forward and frames her face. Her expression is hard, like you don’t want to disobey her in these moments. Brows are slightly knit together, lips in a thin line. She looks beautiful and dangerous, but as you bring your pointer and ring fingers to your entrance she softens a little, cocking her head to the side slightly. 
Lydia keeps her legs closed, slipping a finger down her slit and rubbing slowly from side to side. She whimpers silently beside you, glancing at you nervously. Your fingers easily slip inside of your soft, dripping hole. 
Tess’s eyes dance between the two of you. “Two very different girls,” she says to the room, neither of you stopping what you’re doing, both determined to become a part of her Treasures. “One of you seems shy, but I can work with that. Help you get out of your shell. And then there’s you,” her focus locks on you as she gets up with a grunt and saunters over to you. “You are a little whore, aren’t you? So eager to please.”
You feel yourself getting wetter at her attention and mean words. She pets your head lightly a few times, laughing quietly at how you lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering closed. Just as your lashes hit your cheeks she grabs a handful, pulls hard and gets within inches of your face. “You’re going to be a problem, aren’t ya?”
“No,” you gasp, your orgasm right on the precipice, so you slow your motions. “I’ll be good, Tess.”
“Did I say you could slow down?”
“I - I’m gonna come,” you whine. 
“No, you’re not. You just told me you’d be good. And good girls don’t come until they’re told.” She releases your hair and you suck in a breath. Tess’s presence is palpable, she seems to take up all the space and air in the apartment by just being here. “Do NOT come, that’s an order.”
Just as the last sentence leaves her mouth the door opens and the apartment gets smaller, like your whole existence is being put in a vacuum sealer. The deep chuckle that comes from whoever just entered makes your scalp prickle, but you keep your focus on Tess.
“What’re we doin’ here, Tess?” The voice is deep, with a slight southern accent highlighting an occasional word. It can only belong to one man, the only man allowed near Tess’s Treasures. Joel Miller. He’s feared and revered in the Boston QZ. Runs the drug trade that keeps both FEDRA and the seedy underbelly running. You’ve never seen him before, but you’ve heard stories.
“Recruits,” Tess says, walking over to Lydia, crouching in front of her. “This one is shy. The other one - well, I might need your help with her.”
Your clit feels like it’s zapped with electricity at her threatening promises and you moan loudly, pausing your fingers that have been plunging in and out of you as per Tess’s requests. “See,” she says flatly, hands massaging Lydia’s plush tanned thighs. 
You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps as he walks towards you, you can feel his heat and smell the tobacco coming off his skin. When he steps into your line of vision everything blurs. He’s beautiful and dangerous, but overall he’s the most incredible specimen you’ve ever seen. Your brain seems to go blank, like a hard reset, until all you see and smell and care about is Joel. You keep your eyes locked on his face, his brows crease, lips pressed tightly together. He plants his hands on his hips as his coffee and whiskey eyes slowly trail down your body. When he gets to your soaked and swollen pussy he licks his lips. “You gonna let her come?” He asks Tess but doesn’t take his eyes off you.
The fog clouding your brain clears and you glance towards Lydia and Tess. She has her legs spread and Tess is smiling encouragingly up at her, hand on top of hers, teaching her where to touch. 
“She can come when she’s earned it. Lydia’s earned it though. Haven’t you?” She nods at Lydia as she squirms in the wooden kitchen chair. “That’s it, show us.”
Lydia speeds the up and down motion of her hand sloppily, you can hear the wetness as her movements become more erratic. Joel’s eyes haven’t left you, still watching you fuck your fingers in and out of yourself, almost mesmerized by you. 
“Tess,” Lydia murmurs.
“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. Let me see that pretty little pussy twitch.” 
Lydia’s body starts to shake as she cries out, her hand slowing as she whines and moans, “Oh god. Oh god. Yesyesyes.”
You peel your eyes away from her and squeeze every muscle in your body as tightly as you can, holding on, not letting yourself come. Looking at Joel makes it nearly impossible not to tip over that very tantalizing edge, so you clamp your eyes shut. “Tess,” Joel says, his voice a baritone whisper. “You’re torturing this one, look at her.”
He’s right, she is torturing you; but, what Joel doesn’t know is that you love it. You love being denied just as much as you love being used. You love being pinned down or tied up. You love having your throat or pussy or ass fucked in any and all positions known to humankind. The world is a dark and horrible shit show, but sex? Ya, sex makes you feel alive. 
“Torturing her would be not letting her touch herself at all. She should be thanking me.” Tess turns her attention back to Lydia, helping her stand up and pulling her to the couch. “You did such a good job for me. You looked stunning as you fell apart.”
You open your eyes at the movement of them. They stop and stand facing each other in front of the couch as Tess removes her shirt, her breasts are small and perky with light pink nipples. Joel looks away from you, staring appreciatively at the woman he’s sworn to protect. She pops the button on her jeans. “Take them off her, Lydia. Tess shouldn’t have to work this hard,” Joel commands. 
You whimper at the timbre of Joel's voice when he’s giving instructions and his eyes whip back to you. “You like that, don’t you? Being told what to do.”
“Yes, oh god, please can I come Tess,” you cry, eyes still locked with Joels.
“Lydia is going to lick my pussy, Joel is going to move out of the way so I can see you, and when I say you can come I want you to be loud. I want to hear those slutty little moans. Got it?”
Joel doesn’t hesitate, stepping behind your chair. He must be leaning over you because you swear you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear. Tess sits on the couch and tugs at Lydia’s wrist gently, encouraging her to kneel in front of her. “Come on,” she whispers and then places her finger at the top of her pussy. “Just lick and kiss right here. You can do it.”
Lydia moves slowly, giving you a knowing glance over her shoulder as she gets into Tess’s desired position. You suddenly realize that she’s more clever than you initially thought. She’s not shy, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Tess likes to lead, so she acted like she needed the guidance. And now she’s come and you haven’t. Tess’s head falls back, jaw going slack as Lydia tastes her. 
“Does that turn you on?” Joel whispers, his warm breath hitting your neck. “Seeing Tess being eaten out. She deserves that every day, you know. She’s gonna take such good care of you, so you better care for her.”
“I will,” you mumble. “I’ll do whatever she needs. Whenever. Fuuuuck.”
“Look how wet you’re getting, I don’t think you can hold it for much longer.” He’s taunting you now. “Little thing loves to come, doesn’t she?”
“No, Tess gets to - oh god - she says when,” you’re squeezing as tight as you can, holding back the orgasm that’s right there, like a seesaw teetering, so close to tipping to the other side and slamming through you. 
Lydia slurps at Tess, you can hear her sucking at her clit as Tess moans and tangles her fingers into Lydia’s hair. “Yes, that’s it. Fuck, right there.”
You let out a breathy whine and Tess’s eyes come to you. “Ssshh, not yet. Oh shit, Lydia. So good.”
Joel laughs into your ear. “Just come, what’s the worst she’s going to do? Spank you? Let me fuck your throat? I bet you like being punished.”
You shake your head, trying to block out all the lewd mental images he’s creating. “No, Joel.” you huff, refocusing on holding it in, thinking of all the unsexy thoughts you can as you watch Tess, waiting for your time. 
Tess’s legs begin to shake, “get ready, baby. We are going to come together.” 
Your wrist begins to ache, it feels like you’ve been fucking yourself for hours. “I need to, please. You look so - “
She cuts you off, “Joel, take over for her. I’m gonna come.”
Joel practically leaps in front of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling your drenched fingers out while slipping his two thick fingers into your mouth. You bob up and down on his fingers still looking at Tess. Her eyes are glazed over, and a bead of sweat slides down the line of her toned stomach and lands in her belly button. 
“Now, Joel,” she whines and Joel wastes no time slamming his fingers inside of you. You cry out at the stretch, pleasure mixing with pain before he pumps his fingers forward. “Come right now,” Tess says. 
You look down at Joel, his thumb coming to caress your swollen bundle of nerves and you cry out, the room filled with your loud moans just like she wants. You hear both her and Joel encouraging you. Joel’s Texas twang washing over you,  “that’s it, fuckin clenchin. Fuck you’re so tight.”
Joel is relentless, curling and dragging his fingers in and out of you as you writhe in your chair. “Tess, oh god, yes.”
Joel's other hand slaps the inside of your thigh, “LOUDER!” he demands.
You squeal at the hot pain that splashes along your thigh, “hhnnngg, thank you. Fuck.” Your pleasurable moans turn into whines of pain as the overstimulation starts to seep in. You try to pull back and bring your knees together and Joel lets out a growl. He looks up at you dangerously and your stomach clenches. This is the wild, animalistic Joel Miller that everyone fears. 
You start to panic, he’s not stopping and you don’t know if you can take much more. You’re so wrapped in his onyx gaze and a mix of fear and arousal that you don’t notice Tess behind Joel until she speaks. Her voice is soft yet firm as she cards her fingers through his greying curls, “Joel, that’s enough.”
He blinks hard, seemingly coming out of some sort of trance, and then slips his fingers from you, strings of milky arousal coating his fingers. “Good boy,” she whispers. “Help her up, but you don’t get to touch either of them until I say so.”
He nods and then stands, helping you up. Lydia is lounging lazily on the couch, her face still glistening with Tess’s juices. Your knees shake underneath you and Joel wraps an arm around your waist. You’ve had plenty of orgasms in your life, but never one that deep and strong. Your pussy is aching and you just want to sleep.
Tess sits on the chair that Lydia was on and spreads her legs slightly. “Lydia,” she crooks her fingers at her, calling her over. “Turn around, pretty girl. Straddle my thigh.”
Lydia follows Tess’s instructions, that fake nervous pout of her lips on display for Joel. Clever, very clever, you think through heavy eyelids. 
“Joel, help her on the other thigh and bring that chair.” Joel guides and steadies you as you sit on Tess’s thigh, then places the extra chair in front of the three of you. “Use the chair for balance,” Tess instructs, her hand running up and down your spine gently. 
You both lean forward, your sweaty palms slipping slightly against the wooden chair. You both gasp quietly as your swollen clits press into her muscular thigh, as she caresses your backs and hips. Joel sits on the couch across from you, one arm draped across the back and his legs spread. He watches you intently, eyes blown out and curls sticking to his forehead. It’s not lost on you that he hasn’t focused much attention on the other girl. You look over at Lydia and she’s smiling flirtatiously at you. Your faces are just inches apart and she nudges at your nose with hers.
“Ladies,” Tess starts, “this is the part where you show Joel what you can do. He’s going to kill people for you, and when he does, you need to repay him.”
You graze your lips against Lydias, her skin tastes like peaches and Tess’s cunt. 
“Pretend my thigh is Joel's cock, show him how you’ll ride him.”
You flick your attention back to Joel, and his expression shifts from hard to a tortured need. You rake your eyes down his strong chest, still concealed by that fucking denim button up that you want to rip off with your teeth. He’s dangerous and could easily snap your neck with two fingers, but fuck, if that doesn’t make you want him more. Lydia presses her lips to your throat and you start to grind back and forth on Tess’s thigh. 
You continue to take in Joel’s body, stopping when you get to his lap. Your eyes widen at the distinct outline of his hard cock pressing behind the zipper of his jeans. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you lock eyes with him again. His coffee coloured irises are almost onyx as he shifts in his seat. He wants you - just as much as you want him, and you just hope that you can break him enough so Tess lets him have you. 
Tess’s strong hand travels up the smooth skin of your back, tangling her hands in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Tell Joel how good it feels, baby. Lydia, keep kissing her.”
Lydia’s lips suck at your skin. “Mmm, fuck Joel. Feels s’good. Wish it was your big cock filling me up, sliding in and out of my tight, wet pussy.” Tess tugs at your hair to open your neck more for Lydia and you yelp.
“Keep talking, baby girl,” Joel says, his hand moving to palm himself over his jeans. “Tell me what you want.”
You grind harder into Tess’s thigh, between the sting in your scalp from her hand, Lydia’s soft lips on your neck, and Joel’s intense stare, it almost becomes hard to breathe. Every bit of their attention is on you.
“I-I want you to, mmmm, to pin me down,” you take in a shaky breath, never taking your eyes off him. “To f-fuck me…from behind. Want you to f-fill, oh god, fill me.”
Joel pops the button of his jeans, reaching down his pants to grip himself through his tight grey boxers. You continue breathily, “Wanna feel you spank me. Slam inside of me. Dominate me.”
“Good girl,” Tess says, releasing her grip on your hair and pulling Lydia off your neck, before pressing in between your shoulder blades until you’re flush with her thigh. You crane your neck to keep your eyes on Joel, looking at him through the wooden slats of the back of the chair in front of you. “Your turn, Lydia. Tell Joel what you want.”
She clears her throat before beginning, “If he killed for me, I wouldn’t make him do any work. I’d lay him down, lick and kiss every inch of him before sliding him in my mouth. Taking him deep, cradling his balls with my hand. I’d swallow every drop.”
Joel lets out a noncommittal grunt, almost like a secret language between him and Tess. Joel leans forward and removes his denim button up and t-shirt in one swoop. His tanned and toned chest makes your mouth water. His chiselled pecs and soft belly have trimmed salt and pepper hair dusted across them, he toes off his shoes and then lifts his hip, sliding his jeans down his legs. His skin glistens with sweat and you want to lick it all off of him, drink up his salt and musk, his innate Joel-ness. 
“Come here, Joel.” She says. 
“Sit up,” she says softly to you. Joel stalks forward like he’s about to claim what’s his and your pussy clenches around nothing in hopes that it’s you.
“Ride my thighs, girls. Whoever cums first, Joel gets to fuck.” You spit into your hand and reach between your legs, gently spreading your lips and coating yourself in saliva.
A deep, “holy fuck” leaves Joel's lips at the sight of you. Yes, he definitely wants you just as much as you want him. You move your hands from the chair to Tess’s knee and grind your hips in small, slow circles. Your arms push your tits together for Joel. Beside you, Lydia stops moving. She sits as still as a statue, looking over her shoulder seductively at Tess. A loud slap fills the room, followed by a lust filled moan that you didn't think Lydia was capable of. 
“Tess,” she says, all airy and breathy. Her tone feels sweet on your skin. “I don’t like sleeping with men.” 
You keep grinding, your focus on Joel. He’s so close that you could reach out and grab one of his muscular forearms. You’re going to fuck him. You want to fuck him. Any way he wants. Any hole he wants. None of it matters, you just want to feel him, smell him, taste him. 
Tess lets out an impressed sigh. “You’re even more amazing than I thought, Lydia. Had me telling you how to lick a pussy, how to touch yourself. But you already know. Don’t you?” She slaps Lydia’s ass again and the loud noise even has you clenching. Fuck, you want Joel to spank you. Or Tess. Even Lydia at this point. 
It’s wrong. And taboo. But who can say what’s right or wrong in this new world anymore? 
“You are going to have to do things for Joel, little temptress. It’s part of the deal.” You see Tess’s hands come to Lydia’s hips, encouraging her to grind at the same pace you’ve set. “So ride me. Let me feel that slick little pussy, let me feel it quiver on my thigh.” 
Things are quiet for a moment, just the squelching sounds of both your cunts gliding along her smooth thigh. You lean into Lydia, desperate for more. More what, you aren’t sure. Just more.
She responds to your touch, her nose brushing your cheek before you turn into her and kiss her deeply. Slanting your head to taste her tongue against yours. She’s sweet, like strawberry jam. Lips so soft they almost don’t feel real. Her teeth clamp onto your bottom lip and you cry out. The perfect amount of pain to increase the pleasure between your legs. When she lets go you’re panting. 
“She’s close, Tess,” Joel murmurs like he knows your body so well, but he’s not wrong. He continues speaking casually to Tess as if you aren’t in the same room. “Do I really get to fuck her if she cums first?” 
You grind down harder, kissing Lydia again. You love them talking about you as if you aren’t here. Making the decisions for you. 
“As soon as she cums, you take her to the bed.” Tess’s strong hand lays a sharp slap on the meaty globe of your ass and you crumble. 
“YES!” You scream, convulsing as the pleasure courses through you. You look up at Joel through your lashes, jaw slack, voice weak and desperate. “Joel. Please. Please.” 
He drops his boxers and his thick cock spring free. Slapping against his belly. The tip is smooth and leaking, he’s bigger than you thought and somehow your throat dries out as your cheeks fill with saliva. As you come down from your second orgasm you realize that you can do this. You are going to do whatever Tess says and become one of her Treasures. 
“Think you can take him?” Tess hums as Lydia falls apart beside you, moaning sweetly. Tess adds, “Good girl, Lydia. So perfect when you cum.”  
You decide to take a page out of Lydia's book and act innocent. “N-no,” you stammer. “It’s…I don’t…it’s too big.” 
Joel snorts, “You’re not a very good liar my little slut.” 
Before you can respond he’s lifted you up and over his broad shoulder. His skin is warm against your belly. You giggle mischievously as his hands dig into the plush skin on the back of your thighs. He can so easily overpower you, so easily destroy you - mentally and physically. And you’d let him, and to make it worse, you’d thank him afterwards and probably ask him to do it again. 
He drops you on the bed. “Don’t move.” 
You nod and swallow the dry lump in your throat. You definitely want this, even if you shouldn’t. Even if that logical voice inside your head is screaming at you to put up the wall, block him out like you do with everyone else. But the infinitesimal hint of softness in his face that can only be seen by the two of you keeps you sucked in. He won’t hurt you, no. Something in his eyes gives him away, he wants to please you with those hands that have brought pain and torture to so many others. 
He walks back over to Tess and Lydia who are completely entranced with one another. Lydia is now sitting fully in Tess’s lap. Her back pressed to Tess’s front, both her legs draped over Tess’s as she pressed kisses along the tops of one of her shoulders and rubs her fingers gently from her pussy up to Lydia’s. Joel kneels in front of them, both of their legs spread, wet pussy’s glistening and on display for him. The sight of Joel Miller on his knees does something unexplainable to you. He’s so goddamn delicious. 
He looks over at you again, that softness still coaxing you deeper into his web, tangling around you, claiming you. His large hands cup Tess’s inner thighs and then he dives into both their pussy’s. Jealousy swirls in your stomach as he draws a sloppy wet line from Tess’s entrance to her clit, then up to Lydia in the same manner. 
“Oh, fuck Joel,” Tess cries as Lydia whimpers.
“Too much, baby?” he says gruffly to Lydia who nods before burying her face into the crook of Tess’s neck. “Little more, m’kay?”
He licks at them again, Tess’s moan ending as Lydia’s starts. Joel doesn’t stop. He uses long languid and lazy strokes of his tongue as he eats at both of them.
“J-Jo - fuuuck Joel!” Tess murmurs, her head falling back and mouth falling open in a silent scream. She wraps her arms tightly around Lydia as her legs start to tremble. Joel’s deltoids and biceps flex as he pushes to keep her thighs apart.
“Fuck, Tess.” Lydia purrs, “You look so goddamn hot when you cum. Suck on her clit, Joel. Make our girl squeal.” You can hear him slurp her swollen and twitching nub into his mouth. As it slips along his soft and puffy lips her pained sounding moans start to become mumbles of pleasure. Joel works her through her orgasm, not stopping until he knows she's good and sated.  
Lydia reaches back, twisting to kiss Tess deeply and then whispers into her lips. Whatever she says gets Joel's attention and he releases her clit with a pop before looking up at the two women. You haven’t moved from where Joel left you, as fun as being a brat is, he could probably dish out a punishment so intense that even you would break and use whatever safe word he gave you. Lydia whispers more, Joel smirks at whatever she’s saying and then the three of them all slowly turn to look over at you.
Fuck
Joel stands, his hands coming to the outsides of Tess’s knees and guiding her as she closes her legs, then he gives a hand to Lydia to help her stand before repeating the same with Tess. He stands tall and broad, completely naked and fully erect between these two powerhouse women, linking his fingers with Tess and smiling over at her. She gives him a little nod and your stomach flips as your pussy clenches.
This is it, you think.
“Little slut,” he says deeply, “‘M’gonna fuck you now, while they hold you down. Understood?”
You try to say yes, but just air seems to leave your lungs. Tess and Lydia climb along each side of you, hooking their arm under your leg and pulling back to open you for Joel. Your arms are trapped under their bodies as they lay beside you.  You’re pinned and exposed; fully at Joel, Tess and Lydia’s mercy. 
The bed dips as Joel settles between your thighs, his large body looms over you, resting himself on one forearm beside your head, his other hand wrapped around his cock, running it up and down your folds.
“So wet for me. So soft,” he presses the fat tip of his cock at your entrance and you gasp. “Shit! S’tight too, baby girl.”
Tess and Lydia nuzzle into you, lightly dragging their noses along your neck and jawline. “J-Joel, fuck me. Pleaseplease. Fuck me”
Joel presses his hips forwards, and the thick, smooth mushroom head of his cock pushes at your weeping cunt again. “Look at me, little slut,” he rasps. You don’t hesitate, look at him with big innocent eyes, biting your lower lip. He spits into his palm and then coats his throbbing dick with it, fisting himself up and down. He raises an eyebrow at you cockily, “Say it again.”
“Fuck me, fuck me, please!”
Without warning Joel slams into you, stretching you painfully and your body jolts. You try to slam your knees together but the naked women on each side of you keep you spread open widely for Joel. “Shit baby,” he says through gritted teeth as his body folds over yours, his hands caging all three of you in. Tess nips at your neck, while Lydia sucks at your earlobe after whispering, “Relax, little slut, we all got you.”
Your lungs slowly come back to you. You take a deep, full breath in, and it feels like you haven’t taken a proper breath since seeing Joel for the first time. As you exhale you’re completely surrounded by Joel Miller. His large body is all you can see and feel. Meanwhile, all you can taste and smell is his tobacco scent and the salt of the sweat that coats his tanned skin. You’re addicted, you want to be able to inject him right into your veins. Your pussy relaxes around him and the pain ebbs into pleasure, and you need more.
“More, please more,” you murmur into his neck.
“There she is,” Tess whispers in your ear and you whimper.
“Say it again,” Joel commands.
“Fuck me, Joel,” you cry. “Please, fuck me. Make me your little slut for real.”
Lydia giggles seductively in your ear, pulling you into her tighter.
“Open her all the way for me,” he says to the other two. “S’too tight for me.”
He sits himself up and your knees are pulled open and back. Joel keeps his eyes locked on yours as he tilts his chin a bit and splits on your already soaked pussy. His veiny hands come to the back of your thighs, squeezing and massaging at your sensitive skin.
“Think I should fuck her, Lydia?” He starts, and soon they’re talking about you again as if you aren’t even there, the slick walls of your cunt fluttering as they speak.
“She's been good, hasn’t she?” Lydia says in a syrupy aroused tone.
“No she hasn’t,” Tess says between kisses along your jawline. “She’s a thief. She’s a bad girl.”
Joel slaps the inside of one of your thighs, with just enough of a flick in his wrist that it immediately sends a zap of pleasure toward your clit. Lydia feels you relax more into her grips, “She likes it when you hit her, Joel”.
“Of course she does,” Tess moans. “She’s a little slut.” She hits the t at the end of the word hard and Joel slaps you again. Right in the same spot, precision that you’ve never known before from a man who kills without being seen. 
“Should feel how tight she is, maybe she had us fooled,” Joel says, eyes shifting between the two women, wholly avoiding your gaze. You’re so desperate for his attention, and the humiliation of him not returning it arouses you so much more than it should.
“What’d’ya mean, baby boy?” Tess asks, her warm breath hitting your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
“Like a virgin, squeezin’ me like a vice.”
“She’s shakin,” Lydia adds. “Poor girl.”
“You two don’t stop kissing her while I do this,” they both nod and he flips his attention back to you. “I wanna hear you screamin’. Got it, little slut?”
You shudder under his intense stare. “Yes, yes, Joel. Please, just fuck me. Pleeease!”
He pulls halfway out and then slams back in, his heavy balls slap at your taint and asshole, your needy high pitched moans filling the room. Your whole body constricts around Joel and as it relaxes it feels like heaven. No one has made your body feel like this. “That feel good?” Joel says tauntingly, his hands gripping into the back of your thighs.
“Please - fuck, yes. More,” you mumble, almost incoherently. 
“Show our girl, Joel. Show her what he can have once she’s my Treasure.” Tess commands.
What’s that saying, ‘You say jump, I say how high’? Well, when Tess says jump, Joel is already mid jump, doing it exactly how Tess wants it. He’s already dragging his cock out slowly, all the way to the tip, before slamming fast and hard back into you.
“Harder,” Tess growls, biting your neck as Joel repeats the motion. Lydia squirms against you, her soft warm skin slipping along the thin sparkling layer of sweat that coats your body. “Look at her. Pliant, soft. Letting Joel do whatever he wants.”
“That’s cuz she’s a good girl,” Lydia moans, kissing the sensitive skin under your earlobe. 
Joel brings one of his hands to cup your chin, his thumb running around your bottom lip softly. “Gotta relax for me, little slut.”
You take a breath and as you exhale you can feel the grip your pussy has on his thick cock loosen. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”
“Good job, baby girl,” Tess whispers, kissing at your throat again. 
“Fuck her now, Joel.” Lydia says, “We got her.”
Joel sets a quick pace, slamming in and out of you. His name and a string of swears leaving your lips with every thrust, just the screams of your pleasure and the squelching of your pussy filling the room. Tess and Lydia whisper praises as Joel is possessed by your cunt. Pounding and pounding into you without pause. Over and over, he’s relentless. A man possessed. You can’t help but wonder if he’s like this with all other women or if this is just for you. His hand falls from your chin, landing beside Tess’s head on the mattress, the other still gripped to your thigh. His short nails dig into your skin, leaving you marked with signs of him. 
“That’s it,” Lydia hums. “Taking it like such a good girl.”
Tess’s teeth lightly scrape at your jawline. “Come on, baby. I wanna see you come again.”
“So fuckin’ pretty when you come,” Joel says each word at the end of his harsh thrusts. His voice is gravelly and deep. Seeping under your skin and into your DNA, the very fabric of your being. You belong to him, no questions asked.
“M-more. I - more - please.” You aren’t sure what you mean by more, but Joel seems to know your body better than you as he sits himself back up and brings his thumb to your clit, teasing it gently and you writhe under him. It’s almost too much but you need it, and even more, you need Joel not to stop.
He hammers into you again, slower this time, but still with an intense flick of his hips at the end. The leaking tip of his cock pressing against the perfect spongy part behind your clit.
“Can see you in her stomach, Cowboy.” Tess moans. Both the women feather long, lingering kisses along your neck. The juxtaposition of their soft actions and the bruising dance of Joel’s hip is just as confusing as it is arousing. 
“Rub her clit a little harder, Joel. I think she’s getting close.” You clench around him at Lydia’s words and cry out loudly. 
He swirls his thumb easily along your lubricated clit, the mixture of both of your arousals and his spit making it slippery. “Ohgod, hnnnnggg, J-Joel pleasepleaseplease.”
“Sssshhh, baby,” he soothes, pausing with his hips pushed flush to your ass. “Gotta relax, remember?”
You whimper in agreement, nodding your head as you try to slow your breathing and your heart rate. “There she goes,” Joel moans as your pussy walls flutter and then relax.
He starts to fuck you slowly, circling your swollen velvety nub with the rough pad of his thumb. His other hand leaves your thigh, massaging your breast, pinching at the nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. Gonna fill you one day.”
“Today, please!” you protest through a salacious moan.
“Tell her,” he says to the women holding you in their arms, speeding up the circles of his thumb.
“Lydia,” Tess whispers, like it’s a secret just for the three of you, “Tell her your plan.”
You’re lost in a daze as Lydia says your name into your skin. When you don’t respond she nips gently at you and says, “Baby? You with me?”
“Y-yes. Fuuuuuuck,” you say wantonly.
“Joel is gonna make you cum, then pull out and cum all over our faces. After, we are going to lick it all off each other.” She says it with a hint of mischief and lust in her voice.
The three of them praise and encourage you as Joel keeps fucking you and rubbing your clit at the same time. You have no idea how long you’ve been in this apartment, how long you’ve been floating on a vibrating fluffy cloud of pleasure and craving. Whispers of “Good girl”, “so pretty”, and “fuck listen to how wet you are” travel through you.  
The electric currents of pleasure that sizzle along your skin all come to the base of your spine. Pressure building, so very close to exploding around all of you. “Come on, little slut. Let go for me.”
Lydia and Tess say ‘Come on’ and ‘relax into it’ at the same time.
“Shit, J-Joel,” you whimper. A tear runs down your cheek.
“I know, I’m here,” he says, voice slightly softer than earlier. “I know.”
The pressure becomes unbearable and then everything snaps. Your pussy flutters as the pleasure starts to consume every single inch of your being. Your vision blurs, every muscle going lax as you twitch unconsciously underneath him. 
“Good girl. Yes, that’s my good little slutty girl,” he growls. Your orgasm continues to tear through you, ripping you in half and you know when you come down only Joel will be able to stitch you back up again. 
Joel presses his large palm to your mound, and just as you feel yourself start to come down you’re on the precipice of another orgasm. “Got another one for me, baby?”
“Yesyesyes - yeeesss,” you’ve forgotten words, you’re just a bundle of pleasure. No muscles or bones or thoughts of your own. Just a pliant body, that’s fully under the control of Joel Miller. 
Your second orgasm hits you hard, tearing anything you had left in half. “She’s gonna squirt,” Joel mumbles.
“Just let it go,” Lydia whispers, suckling on your earlobe. 
You push into the feeling, letting it overtake you as liquid gushes from your cunt, coating Joel's pelvis and pooling on the bed below you. It splashes as Joel keeps up his pace. You scream out in pleasure. Lydia and Tess talking you through it quietly, “Good girl. Stay relaxed for me,” Tess says as Lydia adds, “Let it take you, we’re right here.”
The pleasure starts to ebb, it’s becoming too much as Tess whispers, “Breathe, baby girl. Just breathe.”
“Can’t, Tess.” you whimper, turning your face towards her. “Please,” you plead. If you learned anything from earlier, it’s that only Tess can make him stop. 
“Ok, baby, you’re ok,” she hums. She looks up at Joel above all of you and drops her voice, “That’s enough now, Joel.”
Joel pulls away from your clit and you sigh in relief, both his hands coming to your breasts, squeezing them roughly as his thrusts become sloppy. “Get ready,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Both Tess and Lydia scoot up so their faces are pressed against yours.
Joel slips out of you with a lewd pop and practically bends you in half to get over your faces. “Open your mouths and look at me,” he commands. The three of you obey, anything for the man who is going to kill for you or defend you to the very end if need be. 
His hand is tight around his cock, pumping himself quickly, the cords of muscle and veins along his forearm start to pop. His balls are full and heavy, tight against his body as he edges closer to his release. You stare at him, soaking in how wrecked he looks as he gets closer. His brows pinch together, onyx and whiskey flecked eyes looking only at you before his face goes lax and he lets out a deep, loud moan. Warm ropes of opaque white cum paint your faces.
As soon as he’s done he pulls away, Tess and Lydia letting go of your legs as the three of you kiss and lick at each other's sticky faces. Joel tastes better than you could have imagined, a heady mix of saltiness that leaves you insatiable for more.
Joel sits back on his heels watching the three of you slurp him up. He has a proud smirk on his face and when your eyes find his he winks at you before getting up and grabbing a towel off the top of the small dresser near the bed. Tess says something hushed to Lydia as you and Joel look at one another. Lydia pressed a kiss to your cheek before getting off the bed and following Tess into another room, the unmistakable sound of the shower alerting you to where they’ve gone.
Joel climbs beside you, looking down at you hesitantly. “You ok?” he whispers.
“Ya,” you sign sleepily. “I’m ok, Joel.”
He brings the towel to your thighs, soaking up your arousal. “I didn’t hurt ya?”
The towel ghosts along your swollen folds and you gasp, turning your head into Joel’s strong upper body. “I know, sorry.” He hisses, hating that he’s causing you discomfort. “But I gotta clean you up.”
He dabs gently with the soft towel causing an aftershock that shakes through your body and you feel yourself squirt again. Not nearly as much this time but a euphoric moan leaves your lips. Joel tucks the towel between your legs and guides your face up to meet his. His brown eyes burn themselves into your soul, “do you need more, baby? Just tell me.”
“It’s sensitive,” you whine.
He lifts an eyebrow slightly, “does it hurt?”
You stick your bottom lip out and nod sadly.
“Need me to kiss it?” he asks gently, his hooked nose rubbing against yours. 
You look at him hesitantly. Of course, you want Joel’s plush lips on your pussy, but a flap of a butterfly wing could probably cause you to implode at this point. 
“You can say another time,” he whispers, lips hovering over yours. He doesn’t know where this side of him has come from. Joel Miller is a simple man. Murder who Tess says, fuck any one of her Treasures that offer to get the adrenaline out afterwards, then leave them in their apartment pumped full of his cum. He usually can’t wait to rush back to his apartment to take a shower and shoot back a mix of whiskey and sleeping pills. But with you, he feels the need to care for you afterwards, and he has a strong feeling that you’re going to be a very large distraction in his life from now on. 
I’m fucked, he thinks to himself.
You lean forward to sponge your lips against his. He kisses you sweetly, pulling you in tighter as you hum contently into his lips.
“I don’t think I can tonight,” you say softly after breaking the kiss. 
“That’s ok, little slut.” He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re resting on top of him. Legs straddling his hips and your head resting on his chest. You shiver against him, tucking your arms into your body. His hands scramble for the blanket, wrapping it around the two of you, kissing the top of your head. “Tomorrow, after Tess officially makes you her Treasure, that will be your gift from me.”
You nod into his chest, he smells like gunpowder, fresh sawdust and sweat as your eyelids become heavy and the world seems to slip away. You have trouble sleeping normally, I mean who wouldn’t in this fucked up new world you’re all in, but with Joel, it happens almost too easily. Sleep just takes you to a deep and uninterrupted place for who knows how long. But when you wake you’re in a large grey t-shirt in a small bedroom, not the same one you fell asleep in. You hear the peaceful and melodic breathing of someone beside you. You move slowly, peeling open your eyes to see Joel sleeping beside you. The moonlight dances softly along his face, grey hairs glinting in the light. He looks so peaceful, nothing like the man that was crazed by your pussy early. He’s still visibly dangerous, but fuck is he beautiful. 
I’m fucked, you think to yourself.
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venuslore · 8 months
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𖥔 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𖥔
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summary ; rafe begins to push you away when he realises the true nature of his feelings towards you
pairing ; rafe cameron x kook turned pogue!fem!reader
notes ; this series will contain mature themes, such as : p in v sex, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), swearing, physical altercations, potential nightmares and anxiety, arguments, drinking and drugs. if i forgot any please let me know.
do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.
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summer nights in the outer banks always felt like a mist of nostalgia washing over you as you ventured to the boneyard. the humidity was high, and the stars were bright. speckling across the night sky like a blanket of magic, each holding a promise to return the next day like they had every other.
tonight’s party had passed by in a flurry, whisking you away with your friends for a night of unconventional fun. just the way you liked it.
the boys were up to mischief, as per usual, as they took part in numerous bets and dares to see who was the ‘best pogue’ while sarah dragged you and kie to the bonfire for a dance. and despite the fact that you had spent most of the night in high spirits, you couldn’t help the sudden plunge of morale as you watched john b sneak up behind sarah and wrap his arms around her.
the two of them holding each other close and swaying to the music as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. it made your heart heavy knowing how badly you both craved and desired the love that they so openly shared with the world.
“hey, i have a question..." jj declares after the six of you had found somewhere quiet to hunker down away from the general vicinity of the party, and with a joint in his hand, he moves to lay his head in your lap as he gazes up at the night sky.
“what now?” kie rolls her eyes, waiting to hear what high-induced thoughts the blond had conjured up
“if oranges are called… oranges, why aren't lemons called… yellows?" silence fell over you all as you tried to hold back your laughter,swapping confused looks, only to eventually give in.
“okay. i think you've had enough of that for tonight,” pope grabs the joint from jj’s hand, despite his protests, and takes a puff for himself before passing it to john b.
“agreed. i think i’m getting a contact high just from being near you,” you laugh softly.
he lets out a small gasp, clutching at his chest as though he were wounded, “you should be grateful.”
“yeah, okay, j,” you shake your head, laughing, and ruffle his hair before turning to the others to ask, “hey, does anyone have the time?”
pope’s the first to check his watch, “almost midnight.”
“shit…” you groan quietly and throw your head to the side, sinking into sarah’s shoulder for a moment, “i’ve gotta go. are we still meeting before the dinner tomorrow?”
“yeah, of course.” sarah nods, knowing that the question was intended for her and kie.
picking yourself up and dusting the sand off your shorts, you swing your bag over your shoulder and wave goodbye to your friends. they blow you kisses as you start to walk away, shouting out a jumbled mess of their own goodbyes, but nothing was more distinct than jj's "see ya tomorrow, bubba!"
making your way through the remainder of the party, a group of kooks pass you by, each of them narrowing their eyes and one even blatantly whispering about you. your family’s history wasn’t uncommon knowledge on the island, and so, unlike the pogues, a lot of the kooks didn’t want to be seen hanging out with a ‘half-breed’, as they would sometimes call you.
like kie, your parents came from two different worlds, but unfortunately for them, they didn’t have quite the happy ending that the carrera’s did. so now you live with your mom and her new husband with all the other figure eight trust fund babies, but you weren’t really one of them — you never would be.
“y/n!” a voice calls your name, and you turn just in time to see topper wrap his arm around your shoulders. the strong scent of alcohol consuming your senses, and you sway off-balance from the impact of his weight.
“hey, top,” you pat his chest affably.
“hey, we’re friends, right?” he smiles drunkenly this time, and a slight hum leaves his lips.
you knew the question was of good nature, and you didn’t dislike topper, but he wasn’t exactly your favourite person either. so, not wanting to hurt his feelings while he clearly wasn’t all there, you decide to indulge him a little, “of course we are, buddy.”
“it’s just… i know you hang out with the pogues, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends? i’ve always been nice to you, and i know kelce thinks you’re cool, but rafe, he’s a tough one. he really hates pogues, and you’re like choosing to be-”
“topper, let’s go, man!” kelce shouts as he makes his way over to you, and a few steps behind him staggered along rafe cameron, “some of us are going back to mine.”
seemingly frustrated, kelce tries to get his friend to leave while rafe appears far more interested in the cup between his lips. when he does eventually look up at topper, his eyes fall on you under his friend’s arm for a moment before he runs a hand across his forehead and looks away as though he hadn’t paid you any attention at all.
“maybe you should get him a leash?” the suggestion falls from your lips, and from behind the cup in his hand, you swore you saw rafe smirk. though, it’s gone faster than it had appeared.
kelce lets out a soft chuckle, “don’t tempt me.”
“hey, y/n, why don’t you come with us?” topper turns to you with more enthusiasm than you could handle on a good day. like a golden retriever that was just given his favourite ball.
“as tempting as that sounds... i will have to pass.” removing his arm, you push him towards kelce, who reluctantly catches him.
“why not? it’ll be fun, and kelce and rafe will be there!”
“actually, i’ve, uh, i’ve got somewhere to be,” rafe discloses, taking the last sip of his drink before throwing the empty cup into the trash pile and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “so, i’m going to have to skip on tonight too.”
not wanting to stick around for the conversation about to be had, which would mostly consist of topper whining for rafe to go with them, you take your leave from the trio, “alright. well, i’m going to go. you boys have fun.” and as you pass through them, your arm accidentally brushes against rafe.
you don't think much of it, but the small graze seemed to have attracted his attention, because when you look back, his eyes are already watching you walk away.
the air was no longer sticky as you walked towards the main road. the temperature had dropped enough to cause an array of bumps on your arms and you cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket. the coolness nipped at your skin, and you helplessly wrapped your arms around yourself to gather as much warmth as possible.
the street was quiet, other than the distant sound of music from the boneyard and the occasional bark from a neighbourhood dog. the sky was dark with nothing but the stars helping guide you home, which only made it more noticeable when a set of headlights turned into the street. the sound of an engine began to approach you, slowing to meet your side before eventually coming to a stop.
“y'know, it’s at least an hour walk back to figure eight, right?” the driver points out, and an undeniable smirk tugs at the corner of your lips before you turn to see rafe leaning his head out the open window.
“really?” you retort, cocking your head to the side. “... what took you so long then?”
rafe licks his lips to try and downplay the smile on his face as you near the car, his eyes trailing up and down your body, "well, you know how it is?"
"topper wouldn't shut up," you say in unison, scrunching up your face as you nod.
"i guess that means i'll just have to make it up to you," he looks you up and down once more, his eyes lingering on the skin surrounding your chest and noting how the smallest cherubs of your nipples were poking through your bikini top.
smiling coyly, you sink towards him, pushing a hand to run across the stubbled hair on his head, and press a chaste kiss to his lips, "you better." your words muffle against him.
he hums with approval, a smug look on his face as you pull his bottom lip between yours, giving it a small tug, "you better hurry up and get in then."
you scrunch your nose at him before running around the other side of the car, and it doesn't take long at all for the two of you to reunite with the comforts of rafe's bedroom. the familiar scent of his vanilla lotion, cologne, and a hint of tobacco filling your senses the second he opens the door, and what was once a relevantly clean floor was now being littered with discarded clothing.
his fingers were gentle as they danced across your skin, loosening the knot in the back of your bikini with ease, before hoisting you up around his waist and leading you to his bed where he places you down atop his cotton sheets. his fingers make haste to remove the last pieces of your clothing as he peppers sweet kisses along your jawline, down to your neck.
rafe's kisses were reverent, his touch worshipping, as he slowly revealed every last piece of you. like a precious gift being unwrapped for all to see, but only rafe got the pleasure of doing so.
his breath is hot as he traipses his kisses further down your chest, and his lips soft as he presses them perfectly around the nubs of your breasts. flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin and erupting a whirlwind of rampant butterflies in your stomach.
"god, look at you," he mumbles, a hand now rolling down your waist, your thigh, stopping just shy of where you needed him the most. you needed to feel him, needed him to touch you, and he knew it. he could tell by the way your hips were ever so slightly bucking up to try and reach his hand. "so needy, baby."
smirking, he slowly glides his fingers over your clit and then begins working small torturous circles over it. your chest starts to rise and fall, the breathe being pulled from your lungs, and rafe pushes the side of his other hand into your mouth to help muffle your moans.
it's then that he presses two fingers inside you, letting his thumb continue to work you as he slowly pumps them in and out. your hips jut up, the pleasure working it's way through you until you couldn't bare it much longer. then it stops.
"rafe..." you whine, panting.
"what? you really think i'm going to waste the chance to have you cum around me?" he meets your face, bringing his fingers to his lips and licking your juices off of them, "not when you taste this sweet."
then, without warning, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his lap. letting nothing else stand between you both, he takes your mouth in a heated kiss. his tongue teasing you skilfully until you're left breathless. you could taste yourself on his tongue, and it only made you want him more.
with one hand gripping at your thigh, he uses the other to give himself a few pumps before swiping along your slit to gather your wetness. you jolt as the tip of his cock touches your clit, which he can't help but snicker at, and he slowly starts to push himself in.
rafe was big, there was no denying that, and you would have to bury your head in his shoulder from time to time to stop yourself from crying out as you sink down on him. you could feel him everywhere, and while you didn't have anything to compare it to, you had never felt so full in your life than when rafe was inside you.
it takes a moment to adjust but once he starts moving, all the pressure that had built up quickly turns into pleasure. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him as close to you as you possibly could, your chests moving together as one as he maintains his rhythm. you try to kiss him, but he feels too good inside that all you can do is let out breathy moans.
his thumb moves down to work your clit once more, adding to the pleasure tightening and compressing within your stomach. waves of ecstasy taking over your body as you succumb to your high while rafe tries his best not to cum in you.
you press your head against him as your orgasm rolls through your body, your walls clenching around him and daring to push him over the edge, "fuck, i love watching you cum."
you notice the way his pupils had dilated as he stares up at you now, and you press your lips to his as you slowly lift yourself off of him, immediately feeling empty inside.
"told you i'd make it up to you," he stretches his neck as he leans back to rest on his elbows, closing his eyes long enough for you to work your way down to his waist and take him in your mouth.
he was still so hard, and creamy from being inside you, that the second your lips came in contact, his head lulled back with a sigh. he was already so close to the edge that it didn't take long for him to blow his load in your mouth. and you didn’t waste a drop.
after recollecting yourself, rafe throws you one of his t-shirts to put on and you make yourself comfortable against the headboard of his bed. he, however, instinctively moves to rest his head in your lap, and your fingers idly run circles on his head.
whenever you were with rafe, it felt like all of your problems simply washed away. he made you feel things you never had before. he made you feel alive. and while you loved spending as much time with him as possible, there was always a bittersweet feeling gnawing at you, reminding you that none of this was real, because your time together always had to come to an end.
it was always easier to just rip off the band aid rather than to let it fester until it consumed your every thought.
"you okay?" rafe asks, taking notice of how quiet and spacey you were being. you nod, not wanting to turn this into anything. "you can tell me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand this time.
it was the small gestures like that that made it all the more difficult to keep sneaking around with him. you knew you could never tell him how you were really feeling but the longer you had to lie to your friends or hide away like he was ashamed to be seen with you, the more you wondered if this was how things would always be with him.
he had told you from the start that he had too much going on to be able to commit to anything or make promises he knew he couldn't keep, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. and no matter how many times he tried to reassure you that this wasn't just sex for him, he would always follow up with the fact that he couldn't let himself get carried away. not when ward was watching his every move.
“it’s fine, really,” leaning down, you press another kiss to his lips and then to his nose, “i promise.”
reluctant to believe you, he eventually nods before moving into your touch and nuzzling his face into yours as he kisses you once more. his hands move to guide you as your breath becomes ragged, and just as you’re about to get lost in him once more, you pull away, knowing that if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.
between breaths, you whisper, “it’s late. i should get going.”
rafe throws his head back into his pillow, heaving a sigh, and where you expected him to agree or even help you gather your clothes from where you had left them all over his floor, he instead stops you. his eyes flutter for a second, and his jaw tenses the way it did whenever he was fighting the thoughts in his head, trying to flush them out, and with a soft voice, he says, “… stay.”
an inaudible gasp leaves you as you contemplate whether or not you had heard him correctly and when you don’t answer, he pulls you back to the bed, "stay... please."
rafe had never asked you to stay before or vis versa, the night always ended with one of you sneaking home, and while you were ecstatic over the revelations, you were also sceptical as to what had changed his mind all of a sudden. he doesn't say anything else, just pulls you back between the sheets and wraps his arm firmly around your waist.
you hadn't given him an answer, but you knew you weren't going to say 'no', who knew if he would ever ask you to stay again. instead, you let yourself melt into his warmth where you remained until the sun began to rise.
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901 notes · View notes
starrayblogs · 5 months
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Not So Rock-Hearted || Floyd (Trolls) x Reader
a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! or happy holidays~ i hope you all had a wonderful day, and i hope this new chapter is a fun read! likes/reblogs are appreciated, and asks are welcomed c:
tags: @brights-place
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✩ previous chapter
v. Keep on Watching
It’s the day of the Secret Holiday Gift Swap.
And you’re panicking.
“Barb!” You barge into the longue room and watch as the mentioned troll shouts, jumps, and drops her invitation. 
“What the- I know I told you you’re welcome anytime, but you can knock-” She tuts when she recognizes that it’s you, bending to pick up her card again.
“I got him!” You pop up in front of her, grabbing her by the shoulders and stopping her from picking up her card again.
“Who’s ‘him’?” Barb raises a brow, leaning her head away and tucking her chin to further emphasize her confusion.
You let her go with furrowed brows and a dreaded look in your eyes. “I got Floyd!” You say, out of breath, like you’ve just sang your heart out.
“Wait, what’s wrong with that?” Barb places a hand on her hip, finally having the opportunity to pick up her invitation.
“Uh- what isn’t wrong with that?” You extend your arms and shake your head in quick, short motions. “I’m already having a hard time confronting my feelings for him, now I have to think about him even more!” You exclaim, letting your weight fall on your butt and your back against the couch. 
Barb laughs, taking her seat next to you with her knee up. “Man, I would have never assumed you’d be a softie underneath all that edge. Then again, that’s any of us actually…” She trails off a bit before letting out an amused sigh, turning her head to you. “Seriously though, don’t complicate things too much.” She shrugs.
“Easy for you to say, who did you get?” You cock your head in her direction, watching her open her card.
“I got…” You hum, watching her pull out the name. “Aww, cool, I got Riff! I totally know what to get ‘im.” She smirks confidently, tucking the piece of paper back in the pocket of the card. 
“Good for you,” you quip quickly before catching her attention. “But what do I get Floyd?” You ask worriedly.
“Uhh… Well, what do you think he’s like?” Barb asks. You look ahead of you, thinking back to him.
“He’s… kind. Very kind, it’s like his whole charm. He’s sweet too, like cotton candy. And he’s reeeaaally cool, I mean come on! The hair was one thing, but spending the weekend with him… When he sang, I immediately got hooked on his voice.” You inhale deeply. “It’s gentle. Like the way he speaks to me, it’s like he cares about me…”
“Maybe because he does.”
You swiftly turn your head to Barb with a deadpan look, who raises her hands up in defense before motioning for you to go on.
“Ugh, he’s just! So…!” You plop your head down on the couch behind you, reaching for a pillow behind you and plopping it on your face.
“So… from all that, what do you think is the best gift for him?” She asks again, but you sigh. You remove the pillow from your face and glance at her. “Hey, you’ve got three days to think about it. I’m sure you’ll come up with something…” She reassures you, patting your shoulder.
And you did, but you weren’t confident with it.
You clear the cough in your throat as you hop off your bike, adjusting your guitar strap. You look ahead to Pop Village, seeing all the other trolls and their gifts. “What if you just handed the gift to Floyd and told him I got sick?” You rapped to Barb, holding your gift nervously.
“Dude.” She looks at you with a ‘seriously?’ face. “No. Poppy always said, it’s the thought that counts when it comes to gifts.” She pokes a finger to your chest. “And every rock troll knows how much you thought about this gift.”
Your cheeks warm up a little, and you let out a long sigh. “You’re right, you’re right.” You hop a bit on your feet, telling yourself to relax a bit. You look at the colorful light bulbs hanging across the entire village, lighting up the night, and smile a little.
“Come on, the gift swap’s about to start.” Barb starts walking with her gift in hand, and you follow her to a big stage where Poppy and Branch stand atop it.
“Welcome to our second Trolls Kingdom Secret Holiday Gift Swap! I’m so glad to have you all here again, and with some new faces this time.” Poppy grins, pointing in the crowd and having a light shine down on the pointed area. You see that it’s Viva, her Putt Putt Trolls (which she told you about), and Brozone all condensed in one area. 
The crowd welcomes them with a cheer, but you find your eyes on that pink-haired troll. You chuckle when you notice the piercing in his ear turned into a snowflake to match the holiday. You turn away and look at his gift in your hands, frowning a bit. You look up when Barb speaks.
“You’ve got this.” Her hand moves to pat the place where your heart would be. “Time to let someone new in this, ya know?” She chuckles and you do the same, following it with a whiney ‘yuck’.
“That’s the sappiest thing you’ve ever said.” You comment, and she shivers.
“Yeah, I think Poppy’s rubbing off on me.” Barb shakes her hair as if there was dirt on her. “But, you know what I mean.” She smirks, nudging your shoulder.
“Now, who’s ready to gift-swap!?” Poppy announces and fireworks shoot up into the sky. “Reveal your secret troll!” She hypes, and the crowd starts moving to find the person they got (who was scrapbooked on the invitation, conveniently).
Barb waves you goodbye to find Riff, which you return until she’s eventually lost in the crowd. You look to where Floyd was previously, but can’t get a glimpse of him from everyone running around. You frown, beginning to aimlessly walk around the crowd to find him until someone lifts you up in a hug.
“Amiga!” You let out a sigh of relief when you realize it’s Viva. When you’re let down, you turn around and return a quick hug.
“Happy holidays, Veev!” You greet and she giggles, still holding her gift. “Who’s the special troll?”
“Barb! The one you always hang out with, have you seen her?” She tilts her head, pursing her lips. 
“Got separated, but I hope you find her. I don’t think you’d miss that bright red mohawk anytime.” You snicker to yourself. “I like your clothes.” You comment on her white leotard with red trimmings and her matching red-and-white striped leg warmers. 
“Aww, thank you, you too-” she’s cut off with a gasp when she does a double take on your hair. “Did you..?” 
“Yeah…” You run a hand through your hair nervously. “Does it look fine?”
“Fine? Fine doesn’t even cut it, you look amazing!” Viva squeals, looking up at your newly two-toned hair. “Guess I don’t have to guess who you got, hm?” She smirks, raising her brows teasingly.
“Yeah…” You smirk eases into a smile. “Have you seen him?”
“Oh, I got separated from him too…” Viva frowns, which causes you to do the same. “But, I have no doubt you’ll find him!” She recovers, jumping on her toes excitedly. “I have a hunch that this holiday is gonna end up so well~” She sings.
“Can’t hide it from you either?” You raise a brow, tilting your head embarrassingly. 
“I’m your childhood best friend, what is it you can hide from me?” Viva smirks, punching you in the shoulder. “I was the one who came up with the idea to put you two together for the morning last weekend.” Your jaw drops, pointing a finger at her.
“That was your doing?” She giggles and winks, turning her back to you and running off with a jolly ‘see ya!’. “Viva, we’re talking about this later!” You yell into the crowd, hoping she hears that.
Your cheeks flush again as you grumble your way to Branch’s bunker, hoping to wait for the crowd to die down and you’d eventually spot Floyd. You hold his gift gently in your hands, maneuvering through the others who are either still finding their troll or are celebrating with their gifts already.
Once you make it out of the cramped area, you walk slowly to the bunker. You kept your eyes on your gift, overthinking if it was good enough to give to him. Then you hear your name.
You hear your name in his voice.
You turn around and see him emerging from the crowd, holding his gift. “Floyd.” You say, out of breath. Your eyes flutter as you watch him walk closer to you. Both of you are now far away from the noise, just the two of you right outside Branch’s house. Just like how you arrived.
He opens his mouth, but then he notices how you look tonight. You’re still dressed in your usual fashion, but for colder weather. Then his eyes met your hair.
“Oh…” His cheeks darken slightly as he sees what you’ve done to your hair. Instead of the highlight in your hair being your favorite color, you dyed it white in the meantime. Your hair matched his. “Your hair…”
“Yeah… I figured I could rock the look, ya know?” You chuckle, trying to keep up your cool image. When he doesn’t laugh with you, your brows furrow, and you frown as you try to meet his eyes. “Do you… not like it?”
“You look great.” He meets your eyes with a wide smile, and, for the first time, you see both of his eyes. “I like that we’re matching.” He follows up with a soft chuckle.
He’s beautiful.
Your frown slowly lifts into a smile as you laugh softly. “Now we’re both cotton candy.” You joke, and he laughs with you this time. There’s a small pause between you two after it dies until he speaks up.
“I’ve been looking for you.” He smiles at you. Your cheeks warm up again, and your shoulders straighten.
“You were?” You repeat, and he nods. He holds out the gift in his hands toward you. Your eyes widen, and you nearly drop your gift for him in shock. “You got me..?” You look back up at him in disbelief.
“Happy holidays.” He simply says with that stupidly charming smile of his. “I hope you like what I got you.” He nudges the box into your hands, and you reluctantly take it after propping his gift against the wall. 
“If it’s from you, Cotton Candy, I’ll enjoy it.” You chuckle. There’s truth in your words, but you were still putting up walls. You unwrap it and reveal a box. You lift up the top and mutter a soft ‘no way’, tossing the cover to the ground. 
Inside was a guitar strap. You gently take it out and set the box on the ground, letting the strap unfurl to its full length to see its design. It’s a simple black strap, but it’s stitched with several symbols related to rock in your favorite color. You don’t notice how wide your smile has gotten, and it only gets wider when you notice the stitched shape of cotton candy on a cone.
“Do you like it?” Floyd asks, bringing your attention back to him.
“I love it.” You reply, holding it close to your chest. You take off your electric guitar carefully, detaching your old guitar strap for your new one. “I’ll wear it forever. Thank you, Cotton Candy.” You laugh softly, placing your old one in the mess of your hair and wearing your guitar again.
He smiles, watching you adjust the guitar to your back again. “So who’d you get?” He tilts his head a bit, and you inhale sharply as your smile drops.
“Oh, funny you ask,” you chuckle nervously, reaching back for his gift again. “I got… Uh, I got you.” You hold out the present to him, looking away with downturned ears and darkened cheeks. “I hope you like it.”
His eyes widen in genuine surprise. His hands slowly rise to take the gift in your hand, trying to guess what the present could be as he turns it around. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, and I was worried the whole time, wondering if this would make you happy.” You explain, watching him carefully tear the wrapping. “Then, I figured that if you don’t like it, I would dye my hair to match yours to make you happy… If you thought I would look funny or, I don’t know.” You fiddle with your (new) guitar strap.
He stops just as he was about to open the box at your words with a furrowed gaze. “Why would I think you’d look funny?” He asks, upset. 
You open your mouth to explain, but no words come out. You shrug your shoulders.
“I would never laugh at your appearance,” Floyd says, stepping closer to you. “I like how you look. I like that you thought about me enough to go as far as dying your hair.” He lets out a small laugh. “You keep getting cooler to me.”
If steam could come out of your ears, you wouldn’t be able to hide how much his words made you feel. Your chest is light again, and your heart is tugging in his direction. Your lips managed to turn into a smile. How can he keep doing that?
He returns to the gift, taking off the cover. “Woah.” He murmurs as he pulls out the gift from the box. You fiddle more with your guitar strap as you wait for more of his reaction.
You got him a rouge-colored acoustic guitar. The sides, fretboard, and soundhole were trimmed white to match. Most importantly, the fretboard was in the shape of a cotton candy swirl and colored both rouge and white. You worked on that guitar for the last two days, getting as much help as you could, but you did most of the work.
“Do you like it..? I wasn’t sure if you could play instruments, and you seemed like a guitar-type guy, so I could teach you-” You began to ramble worriedly until you were interrupted by a few notes played.
You watch him play the guitar smoothly before he stops with a smile, followed by the brightest laugh. “Thank you!” He says, his eyes turned into crescents. “It’s been a while since I’ve played. This is amazing,” he says your name and your worries fly away.
You smile sheepishly, running a hand through your hair for a moment. “I’m glad you enjoy it.”
“I love it.” He corrects you, just like you did. You share another laugh together. 
You hold your gifts to each other gently. His hands are careful with the guitar, and your thumb is carefully stroking the stitched pattern of cotton candy on the guitar strap. 
You’re so focused on his smile as he looks at you that you didn’t even process what he said when you saw his lips move. “What did you say?” You blink your eyes, telling yourself mentally to get it together.
“I asked if you’d like to spend the holiday together. It’s the weekend, right?” He tilts his head with a smile.
“Just the two of us?” You ask, dipping your head but keeping your eyes on him.
“If you’re only okay with it.” He quickly replies, his brows raising with his smile growing sheepish. “I was hoping we could play some songs together.” He chuckles, mostly to himself, but your head rises with a smirk.
“Is this some trap to hear me play again?” You chuckle. He hums, shrugging his shoulders innocently.
“I don’t know what makes you say that.” You laugh a bit harder, and his eyes soften.
You aren’t as scary as he thought you were the first time he saw you. He was taken aback by you’re casual compliment about his hair at the cantina, his heart thumping a bit faster from surprise. When he met you again, he thought you were cool and confident, finding himself interested in you. Then you left your guitar behind, and he took up the responsibility to take care of it until the next morning. When he saw your edgy exterior drop when he gave you back the guitar, something tugged at his heart again. 
And it’s tugging at him again, telling him to find out more about you.
“Come on, I recently got my own pod. We can jam out there.” Floyd suggests, and you nod your head as your laugh dies down.
“Ohh, trying to get a VIP rock show, are you now?” You snicker.
“Stop revealing my plans.” Floyd points a finger at you, trying to contain his own laughs by turning around and leading the way.
You breathe deeply as your face settles in a grin. That felt nice. He makes you feel so nice, and you remember Barb’s words. Your grin drops to a hesitant, small smile as you watch him walk. You think for a moment, wondering if you should just take the leap and grasp that happiness right in front of you.
“Are you coming?” Floyd stops and turns around to find you still standing. You blink and fiddle with your strap again, but you make up your mind. Your smile settles softly as you begin to walk up to him.
“Yeah.”
You two walk away together, making small talk on the way to Floyd’s house. You two walk away, unaware of the crowd watching you.
“Are they gone?” One of them whispers from under the mushroom. 
Branch, who reveals himself by dropping his disguise (which was a fluff ball, with the help of his hair), steps out under the mushroom and looks in the direction you two walked off in too. “Clear.”
There’s a pair of squeals as everyone’s hair disguise reveals themselves underneath the mushroom. “We should’ve put a mistletoe on top of them!”
“Woah, too early, Poppy.” Bruce raises a hand with a light chuckle.
“My little rockstar is growing up.” Barb steps away from Poppy, pouting her lip with a hand to her chest. “It’s sickeningly sweet, but aww, but also eww…” She fake gags, which receives a friendly hit on the back from Poppy.
“They’re adorableee.” Viva coos, her hands pressed to her cheeks.
“If adorable, you mean Floyd can’t even recognize his own growing feelings.” Branch rolls his eyes as he crosses his arms.
“Like you were any better.” Poppy smirks, hand on her hip.
“I agree with boytoy over there, though.” Barb raises her arms and dips her head in surrender. “It’s all cute seeing them together, but I don’t think I’m emotionally prepared to be a possible confession dummy.” She contemplates, scratching her ear.
“How long do you think until they get together?” JD tilts his head with crossed arms.
“Oh, I think they’re just like this sad romance book I read where-” Clay starts rambling about his predictions, earning the approval of Poppy and Viva, with the others weirdly agreeing with him too.
✩ next chapter
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onesidedradiostatic · 1 month
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So we know that Alastor has built-in sound effects, or he just manifests them as he pleases. But the mental image of him in his studio manually swapping out a bunch of pre-recorded sound effect cassettes with perfect timing, or doing his own foley, is so endearingly silly.
Maybe in the past he and Vox shared a sound effect library. (V: what did you use to get that bone crunching sound? Pasta? A: bones! V: wow you’re that’s so cool)
The petty stage of their friendship breakdown… The prideful betrayal of “he recorded a new [specific sound effect] and isn’t using mine anymore” and even pettier: one KNOWING the other would notice the change, but knows that the other knows he’d notice, and it becomes like an entertainment media cold war
Even more petty: “that’s our old sound effect you’ve just pitched it UP, you can’t copyright that” / “I thought you would’ve made your own version by now,” / “he’s ripped off my news stinger!” / “HE poached my cigarette ad sponsor… well I’M going to steal his laundry detergent sponsor” etc etc. fight fight fight fight *eats popcorn*
Big insult stage:
Vox: we’re in Hell, FUCK the hays code!
Alastor: :O
HEEEELP LMAOOOO. okay see like I understand people who think the falling out only happened 7 years ago but at the same time like. I like the idea of them having been rivals for decades (which btw it's still insane every time I think about how these two were friends for AT LEAST 20ish years before falling out like. THAT'S A LONG TIME MAN. THESE TWO HAVE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR AAAAAGES) leaves room for the early days of their rivalry where it's DIRECTLY after their fallout and it's very petty
but like the idea of alastor disappearing right after the rejection? it's funny in the context of vox confessed and he aroace'd out for 7 years but LIKE does not leave room for them to have been rivals (which is WILD to me because then that implies they never actually got to be rivals because alastor would've disappeared for 7 years immediately after) but I don't think that's the case mostly because there was enough time after it for alastor to at least know that vox got pissy BECAUSE of that rejection. I do think the time alastor "almost beat" vox happened right before the 7 year absence though. but falling out in my head happened waaaaay decades ago.
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cx-boxbox · 3 days
Text
I was going to write a fic about Lando wanting to wear pretty clothes, but I gave up after a couple scenes. Anyway, here's the only part I kept:
Lando’s fingers twitch nervously as he collects his packages, fiddling with the corners and ducking under the tape sealing the flaps shut, but he’s careful not to accidentally open them where anyone can see. It was already embarrassing enough to ask the concierge for them, and he cringed at the heavily branded boxes. The lady probably now thinks he has a secret girlfriend or something.
It’s nice out in Melbourne, and Lando is more than happy to swap the polo and jeans he wore to the paddock for a new purple v-neck that’s so soft and light to the touch it might disintegrate between his fingers and shorts that are just a tad bit shorter than the ones he ran around the city in. He has already been photographed without his shirt within days of arriving, so if he does bump into someone, it shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise.
But it is really just Lando’s luck that he quite literally smacks into his teammate’s back as he rounds the corner.
Oscar straightens with his bucket of ice, blinks at him, and asks, “Where are you going in such a rush?”
Lando folds his arms over his chest.
“Dinner. Not a foreign concept to you, hopefully.”
“‘Course not.” What is a foreign concept is how Oscar’s gaze keeps drifting south, flickering between the plunging neckline of Lando’s shirt and his upper thighs.
Oh, how interesting, he thinks, amused. Out loud, he asks, “Wanna come with? I have no idea which places are trainer-approved.”
It takes a moment for Oscar to shrug and respond, “Sure, why not. Teammate bonding and such, right?”
Lando gasps and plucks the bucket from Oscar’s hands. He pokes Oscar’s shoulder for good measure. “We’re plenty bonded, mate!” Not as much as he’d like, but still. “Just admit that you’re simply leaping at the idea of spending time with me away from the paddock.”
“I’m going to bring you to a seafood restaurant.”
“Aah! No, no, don't do that. I dressed up so pretty, I even shaved, and you’re not ruining my hard work with, eugh, fish.”
Once again, Oscar’s gaze travels over Lando’s figure, and Lando is incredibly delighted to see red tinting his cheeks. He preens a little, which he cannot be blamed for.
It’s so flattering that it more than makes up for Oscar’s simple affirming, “Hm.”
God, Lando would be so over this whole flirting-not-quite-boyfriends thing if it wasn’t so entertaining. He just hopes that Oscar’s patience doesn’t run out before either one of them gives in and just confesses. He also hopes that he isn’t misreading anything either. That would be fucking humiliating.
The little smiles and full-body laughter Lando regularly receives from him keeps him hopeful at best and delusional at worst.
On the way to Oscar’s hotel room, Lando asks what he planned on doing with the ice, and he only receives a shrug and a mumbled, “You never know when you just need a bucket of ice.”
“That’s fair.”
“Speaking of ice, are you going to be cold in just that? It gets cooler in the evenings, and your circulation sucks.”
“A price I’m willing to pay. Have you considered that maybe your circulation is working overtime? That it might be doing too much?” Lando retorts in lieu of admitting that he didn’t actually think that far ahead in his nervous excitement. A green hoodie promptly hits him in the face.
It’s not McLaren merch. It’s OP81 merch, and it smells like Oscar. Lando resists the urge to ball it up and shove his face into it.
“Just hold onto it if you don’t wanna wear it now,” Oscar says before disappearing into the bathroom. He re-emerges in a long-sleeved shirt and trousers that don’t have drawstrings. Lando almost breathes a sigh of relief. Small mercies.
Oscar’s hoodie also ends up being one of those small mercies, and Lando burrows into it comfortably as they take a longer route back to the hotel because the city after dark is nice. Oscar raises an eyebrow at him in his subtly gloating fashion, which Lando ignores in favor of tucking his nose into the collar.
“You look prettier in my hoodie,” Oscar mumbles.
“Huh?”
“Never mind. We’re here anyway.”
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absolutebl · 2 months
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Hi P'ABL. Not sure if you have answered something like this before, I couldn't find it with search, but what are your favorite "Oh" scenes? Either "Oh I'm (or he's) gay" or "Oh I'm in love with this person". Asking this question after rewatching Ep 4 of Bad Buddy and watching Qian's reaction to seeing BL novels in Zhi Yuan's room.
Light Bulb Moments in BL!
Ooooh, good question. And no I haven't answered it before. You mean specifically the viewer coming to this realization?
My Favorite: Oh HE V GAY!
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Takara just looking at Amagi.
A reading K's mind in the elevator in either Cherry Magic.
The New Employee at the dinner party across the table from the boss with the two queers being like: "Us? Dating? Are you cray, we hella rainbow."
This moment in Jun & Jun:
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And then the "not instantly moving away" utterly flirtatious response.
City boy finding the hot farmer's little box of Pride on the shelf in Some More
To My Star - surprise robe flashing moment (I also love Addicted's execution of this one but it doesn't count as an ah-ha moment, just a big fat tease - pun intended)
This character's admission in Nobleman Ryu's Wedding:
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MinSung on that train with the earbuds in Wish You.
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Solo walking into that cafe in Oxygen.
Fighter meeting Tutor in Why R U?
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Step by Step at the gay club, I mean FINALLY.
I'll just call him my wife in SOTUS.
This scene in I Feel You Linger in the Air:
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My Favorite: Oh I'm in love with him
Eternal Yesterday, that damn look in the rain, holly hell (the cool thing about this one is ... it's mutual)
Aoki climbing into the plastic bag in My Love Mix-Up - I mean, COME ON, how gay is that? "oh no! I'm into love with him, I am trash, must be ultra dramatic about it"
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Unintentional Love Story the agony of realizing he's in love with someone he has to deceive and betray - those EYES
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Mark running after the Taxi in Love is Science?
Ai's "what is going on" in Love By Chance
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Pete's AH HA moment in Kiss Me Again
Pretty much most of Love Sick. It's kinda the point of the show. But you can never get away from this one:
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Possibly one of the most iconic moments in all BL.
Anytime the character starts swearing and is mad at himself when he realizes he is in love: Semantic Error, The Eclipse.
Pretty much all 3 leads swapping both of these "ah ha" moments back and forth in Light On Me
Honorable mention: Someone ELSE in the story's "oh HE'S in love with him?!"
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PitchBank, need I say more? (Golden Blood)
Takara's bestie just focused in on Takara's actions around Amagi for the whole day at school and then being like, "Oh I was teasing them but my friend is IN LOVE. Activate WINGMAN mode."
Are we surprised Suzuki Jin appears twice on this list?
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Also no shocker this list is full of JBL, they very good at this kind of thing since a lot of it is eye work and thirst.
(source)
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xxspirit · 5 months
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Hi guys!! Sorry I haven’t been active for a while, just wanted to check in since it’s been like half of a month lool
I was taking a break from tumblr and drawing in general to focus a bit more on school, but now I think I’m stuck in art block which is poo cause I wanna draw now rgrgrggr 😡😡😡
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But I figured I could share with you my upcoming projects that I’ll be working on sooner or later:
✦first I have some asks, about 4-6 of them I can’t can’t remember how many :V I’ve been trying to work mainly on 3 of them, but haven’t really gotten anywhere :c
✦Second I have a silly comic idea I want to draw soon. featuring the baby boy- well it’s mainly about Dream and swap but baby boy will be there too- I’m waiting to start after I respond to at least 1 or 2 asks
✦I want to do something for Christmas, prolly nothing big but something simple and sweet, which I’m aiming to post it on Christmas or the day before(I’m thinking of drawing sum ship kids for this one :>)
✦I have super cute Dreamberry drawing idea, I’m hoping to make it animated(gif)!! Have no clue when I’ll make this but I really am excited about the idea and I hope I stick with it
✦finally, I was also thinking I could do art dump for end of the year- kinda like a new year special—idrk(not posted drawings, unfinished pieces & decent doodles)
And that’s all for now, I’m hoping to get this all posted before the end of the year, I do have a break coming too, which will be awesome so I can have more time to draw but ya-
Thanks for letting me blabber! Hope u have a good day or night!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧
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coltrainbat · 1 year
Note
Ari is divorced and moving out of the house to an apartment where he meets a happy married, reader with big breasts. Her husband is out of town one day, she and ari have intense sexual one night stand
Neighbours
A/N: I'm baaaaccckkkkk and as always I have something to say ☺️ I am in love with Ari Levinson. Great request but I have to ponder... If reader is “happily married” then why would she cheat? I feel like her being married adds absolutely nothing to the plot, so we are gonna change it to obsessed ex because like… mi no comprehend how happy = cheating. Also, I feel cheating can be triggering for some.
I also think I forgot how to write so please give feedback on this one, like why are some bits in past tense??? Idk I'm insecure validate me 🥺
WARNINGS: SMUT MINORS DNI. 8k filth, oral (f receiving, m receiving), dirty talk, sex, orgasm, P in v, Daddy kink (naturally), hair pulling, spit, shitty exes, swearing.
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You sat in your apartment, comfy on the couch and freshly single. While most people would see this as a great time to spend their Friday nights going to clubs, seeking for a new dick to get under – you found it the perfect time to bask in the freedom of having uninterrupted you time. That was until a knock at the door caught you off guard.
You sprung up with a groan, tip toeing to look through the peephole and find out who had the audacity to knock on your door at 10:30 on a Friday night.
“Brian” You muttered under your breath in a disdained tone.
Brian. Your whiny, dickish, loser ex. Who despite not having any concrete plans for life besides his regular Friday night strip club visit still thought you could prove yourself to be more “wife material’. By that he meant, on top of making dinner, picking him up at 2am from said strip club visits so he didn’t have to spend money on a Taxi. Safe to say, dumping him didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would.
You pulled open the door, standing in your almost too small pyjama set. “Can I help you?”
“I think you can.” He gave you a sick smirk, closing the space between you by moving his hands towards your waist.
“Don’t fucking touch me Brian. We aren’t together.” Slapping his hand away.
“Don’t be a bitch, everyone hooks up with their ex.”
“Well, I don’t want so can you please leave?” You heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs from the lobby and you got anxious at the thought of a neighbour witnessing this cringe worthy altercation.  
“I’m not leaving until you let me in.” He moved his foot past the threshold of the door frame, to prevent you from closing the door on his face.
“Brian you can’t-“
“She said leave.” A foreign voice sounded from down the hallway cutting you off, both your heads flung to the source.
The tall, brooding man had only been your neighbour for a week, you passed by each other with tight smiles both of you too occupied to say hello. But that didn’t stop you from getting a good look at him. He was handsome in a ruggish way, often only sporting shorts and wife beaters, sweat forming on his head as he lugged boxes into his apartment. You noticed the gold band on his large finger, yet no man or wife in sight. Yet, today there was no ring and he had swapped the wife beater for a button up shirt and jeans.
“Who the fuck are you?” Brian spat at the man who could beat him to a pulp with minimal effort. Ah Brian, always so confident for a man whose dick was the size of your pinky.
Your hide your face in your hands in a mix of embarrassment and frustration.
“Ari, now I suggest you leave her alone.” He moved closer to you both, slightly moving his body in front of you, blocking Brian from entering.
“She’s my girlfriend and this was our apartment so I think I can stay but thanks pal.” Brian sounded confident but his voice waivered as he cranked his neck to look up at Ari.
“I’m not your girlfriend.” Ari looked back at you, catching your eyes, giving you a soft smile.
“Well, that settles it so either you leave, or I make you leave.” Ari knelt a little, getting close to Brian’s face his voice was calm and level, but his eyes told Brian he wasn’t bluffing.
Brian huffed and made his way back down the hall, not before turning back “Enjoy her she’s a bitch but she’s slutty.”
Ari flashed a glowing smile and a prominent middle finger as he pushed his way into your apartment, closing the door behind him.
“You, ok?”
“I’m used to it but thank you for helping he wouldn’t have never left if you didn’t step in.”
“Don’t worry about it but you look like you need a stiff drink – got anything good?”
“Tequila?”
“Perfect.” He purred, following you as you made your way to your small bar cart, catching a glimpse of the soft skin that hang out slightly from your pyjama shorts.
You grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap;
“You know your wife’s really lucky to have you around.” You spoke as you poured two shots.
“Ex-wife.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be she was my equivalent of him.” You both chuckled at the mutual understanding of horrible exes.
“Y/N, by the way.” You spoke as you handed him the novelty shot glass.
“Good to finally put a name to my pretty neighbour.” You blushed as you clinked glasses, both downing the burning liquid in sync.
“Another?” You smirked at him.
1 shot turned into 4 as you and Ari sat on your couch, bonding over stories of your exes’ antics and anxieties about re-entering the dating scene. Both losing track of time as the hours fell into early morning. But neither of you felt tired, invigorated by your conversation and the upper coursing through your veins.
“She did not!” You hand fell to your mouth as Ari recounted the story of walking in on his ex fucking his friend on their kitchen counter.
“She did.” He nodded slowly, sipping his beer as he recalled on the sight.
“Well, she’s crazy. I mean, why would anyone cheat on you… when they have well… YOU. God, I mean if I had my own version of sexy Jesus at home, I’d never leave bed.” Ari’s eyes went dark at your bold comment as the image of you and him in bed clouding his mind.
You swallowed hard, realising the tequila was speaking for you and you had invertedly just admitted you found your neighbour hot.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to say you were hot, I mean yes you are hot but-“
“Sexy Jesus?”  He crocked an eyebrow at you.
“Yeah, I mean you know with the hair and beard... like… Jesus”
“I’m Jewish.”
“So, you could possibly be a descendent of Jesus then.” You tried to muffle the laugh threatening to spill as your nonsensical statement. But Ari beat you to it, reaching forward in a fit of laughter, his hand grabbing his pecs.
“You are something else Y/N… in a good way, I see why your ex showed up at your door.”
“What can I say I’m very addictive.” You twirled your hand along the rim of your glass, avoiding his prominent gaze.
“Was he telling the truth about that last comment?”
“That I’m his girlfriend? No no we definitely broke up.”
“No, I meant that you’re slutty.”
Your eyes widened and the mouthful of drink you just sipped threatened to spit out.
“I mean that depends…”
“On…?”
“On your definition of slutty.”
“I took it as you were good in the sack.” He was leaning back on the couch now, his long arms stretched along the back, his hand deathly close to your neck.
“I am not “good in the sack”, I am fucking great in the sack.” You leaned in closer to his figure on the last line, your face getting closer to his. Slowly placing your drink onto the coffee table.
He licked his lips in hunger, shortly before he closed the space between you two, his hand falling to your cheek to pull you closer.
You closed your eyes, relaxing into the soft feeling of his beard against your skin as you explored each other’s mouths.
In a swift motion, his mouth never leaving yours, he placed his drink next to yours, moving his hand back to you cup your ass that was slowly raising itself off the couch.
Moving his hand downwards, hooking your leg over his lap so your chest was now pressed against his button up shirt. Not satisfied at the feeling of fabric against you, you pulled away to undo the buttons, revealing his tanned, hairy chest and the shiny gold Star of David chain.
His chest heaved, watching you eagerly as you fiddled with the buttons. “Oh, fuck it!” You ripped his shirt to reveal the delectable abs hidden underneath. Your mouth returning to his as you ran your hands through his dark, shiny locks. He shimmied the rest of the flannel off, hands going to the hem of your cami, eager to reveal the plump, delicious tits, constrained by the fabric. With a final pull over your head, your breasts bounced, hard nipples falling in place against his chest.
“Jesus Christ.” He huffed out, pausing momentarily to admire the sight in front of him. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, nipping and sucking at your skin down your neck towards your breasts.
His hands cupped the supple flesh, bringing it to his mouth as he sucked delicately on the hard nib. His eyes looked up at you past his long lashes as your head fell back in pleasure.
He moaned as your pulled on his hair. His hands, took a firm grip of your ass, raising his hips slightly, flipping you on your back with ease, you lay exposed across the couch. Leaping up to undo the zip of his jeans, shoes long discarded he stepped out of the worn denim. Your hands grabbed at the clothed, outline of his cock in his briefs, eager to taste the hunky man. Positioning yourself at the edge of the couch. Ari crouched his knees slightly, noting his height, eager to let you at your want.
Revealing his cock, your eyes widened at his size, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen and much bigger than Brian. You grabbed his base, kitty licking at the plump head, catching the loose drops of pre-cum that oozed from his red slit.
“Fuck Y/N, I knew you knew your way around a cock.” You smirked up at him as his hands pulled your hair into a ponytail, taking the hair tie from his wrist and securing it.
You placed the thick head in your mouth, pushing your spit onto his cock as you ran your lips up and past the head.
“You think you can take the whole thing baby?” He quipped at you.
Giving him a small nod, you opened your mouth wider, flattening your tongue on the underside of his cock as you slowly moved you head forward to let his cock push down your throat.
“Fuck baby! That’s it.” Ari’s hands clutched your ponytail tightly, edging his hips towards your head slowly.
You pulled out, looking up at him, with spit smothered around your lips “Don’t hold back Daddy.” Ari groaned roughly, head falling back at the sight of the beautiful woman on her knees in front of him calling him such a salacious name. It was all he needed to roughly fuck your throat, the sounds of your gags and wet, sloppy punctures filling the room.
He pulled your head back by your ponytail, you whined at the loss of his cock.
“You’re so good at it baby but I need that pussy.” He looked down on you with awe. You nodded, shuffling back onto the couch. Ari fell to his knees, head inches away from your pussy as he helped you pull your shorts down.
His mouth immediately went between your thighs, spitting on your exposed cunt before flattening his large tongue on your heat, leaving a long strip of warm, wetness from the skin above your ass to the tip of your clit. Sucking on the sensitive pearl as you mewled at the sensation. He moved downwards, nudging the tip of his tongue at your weeping hole as his beard brushed against your sensitive clit creating a sensation you have never experienced but was addictive. The bristles moving roughly against any inch of exposed skin.
“Ari please I need it!” You begged as you pushed his head closer to your core.
He stopped suddenly, pulling away to look up at your flushed face, sweat formed on your forehead. “What’d you call me?”
“Daddy, please fuck me.” You looked into his deep blue eyes, need in your voice.
“That’s better.” He smirked up at you, moving upwards to join you on the couch. You pulled him closer desperate to taste yourself on his lips. His movements slowed as he moved his hand to support your head pulling it back slightly to get deeper into the kiss.
Between the rushed, desperation appeared a moment of deep intimacy and want for the person in front of you. He grabbed his cock in his hand and slowly glided it through your wet folds, catching your deep moan as his length filled your tight, velvety interior.
Slowly, he moved in and out, eager not to go too far out and lose the sensation of finally being inside of you.
Letting out a deep groan as you ran your nails down his back, leaving long, red marks.
“Harder Daddy please… I need it.”
He looked at you, strands of sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, dipping his head down to give you a soft, wet kiss, pulling out, he grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointer, opening your mouth slightly as he spit roughly down your throat. You swallowed his spit greedily, flashing him an innocent smile which quickly faded as he pulled out to the edges of your entrance and thrusted roughly back in. You gasped at the sudden hit of his bulbous tip at your cervix. The repeated assault at your most sensitive core caused the coil inside you to tighten, your desperately grabbed at his large arms for stability, nails digging into his hard skin as your release rushed out of you and seeped down his length.
“That’s its baby let it out, fuck that makes me close.” His eyes darted between your two sexes, watching as the cream wrapped around his base like a decorative bow. His thrusts became sloppy as he chased his high, savouring the feeling of being inside of you amongst your juices.
He collapsed into the warm embrace of your chest, softly kissing the supple skin of your breast as you both breathed heavy post the best sex of your lives. As his now limp cock fell out of you along with the sticky, hot mix of your release.
Your eyes squinted at the sudden realisation of light pouring through your window, releasing it was now sunrise, tiredness took over you.
You shook the heavy man on you “Ari, it’s morning, do you want to come back to bed with me?”
“Don’t have to ask me twice.” He steadied himself by his arms on either side of your head as he rose. Holding out his hand to help your shaky figure up and into the bedroom. Arms forming a tight grip on your hips as you hobbled towards your bed.
You both collapsing, ready to enjoy a well-deserved sleep.
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kastlequill · 7 months
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ii/v. unearth without a name: the world that hardens as the harsher winter holds
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pairing: keegan p russ x f!reader word count: 1.8k synopsis: the second time you hallucinate keegan tags: whumptober, psychological warfare, blood and injury, brainwashing, hallucinations, hurt no comfort, established relationship, ghost!reader, 4+1, no y/n warnings: canon-typical violence, torture, non-consensual drug use ao3: read here ← prev | next →
II.
A semblance of a regimented schedule formed shortly after those first couple of days.
Two goons would begin the cycle with a visit, using you as a human punching bag until your ribs burned and your frayed nerves went numb. Then came the waterboarding and the breaking of bone, be it a rib or a finger. Last, but certainly not least, Rorke would work on molding your mind into something foreign, though whatever drug he’d administered on Day 1 hadn’t made a reappearance yet.
Yet.
You didn’t have it in you to treasure that simple blessing because your captors were constantly swapping one torture method for another, determined to keep you guessing. Recently, they’d started to get more creative; extreme sensory deprivation was still a favorite of theirs, but they had now added physically-intensive beatings into the mix.
Time elapsed strangely in this hellscape. With no sun to denote mornings and no moon to introduce nights, you had to measure its passage in terms of the damage inflicted upon you. Which was to say, what marked the beginning of a day wasn’t the sunrise; instead, it was the piece of stale bread that you received only after your captors made you beg like a dog.
And to determine when you’d reached the end of another day having survived, it was Rorke, not the setting sun nor the rising stars, who served as a useful metric. Night began in the moments following his departure from the chamber once he’d satiated his raging appetite for sadism, leaving you to succumb to your injuries and fall unconscious.
Eventually, those unfulfilling few hours of sleep would be interrupted by the force of the tossed bread hitting your head. Like clockwork, this cursed routine repeated again and again, though you couldn’t discern whether or not these recurring events were consistently scheduled at a specific hour. It would come as no surprise if they’d been staggered to hinder you from adapting to your new normal.
Such was the way of the Federation.
Regardless of the truth, according to your unconventional form of tracking time, nightfall was nearly upon you. Rorke had been here for what seemed like an eternity, putting forth a valiant effort in beating you into submission and breaking your will.
You just had to bear this pain a little while longer. Then, you could allow your body to recuperate through a bout of fitful slumber.
“Still got some fight left in you, eh?” Rorke wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. Hands that had spent the last however many weeks tenderizing your flesh and splintering your bones. “First, let me express my gratitude. I appreciate you makin’ this fun for an old man.”
You wanted nothing more than to kill him slow, to watch the crazed gleam fade from his deadened eyes, but you’d decided on Day 2 not to engage him beyond what was strictly necessary. If you managed to keep the talking to a minimum, then perhaps Rorke wouldn’t linger for too long. A flawed logic built on desperation.
It worked on occasion, boredom striking him sooner rather than later, ending the interrogation session without much fanfare. Though that wasn’t always the case.
The man was a loose cannon. He lashed out on a whim then switched up before you could process what he’d originally done. Even his co-conspirators avoided being caught in his blast radius, but no such hope existed for you, the prisoner who still breathed only because he willed it.
“Now, with that out of the way—”
An uppercut collided against your chin, sending you reeling, doubling over, stretching the muscles in your arms as the ropes that dangled you from the ceiling strained under the pressure. The impact rattled your teeth, and the metallic taste of blood doused your bitten tongue.
The bastard possessed an absurd amount of power for his age. And you, half-starved and broken in one too many places, were the lucky recipient of said power.
“What are the Ghosts plannin’ to do near the Gulf?” He forced your gaze to meet his, yanking your head backward by the roots of your hair. Resolute in your fatal desire to safeguard your comrades to the best of your abilities, your mouth stayed stubbornly shut.
If you couldn’t be of use out there by their side on a battlefield, the least you could do was stop the enemy from obtaining crucial intel. You couldn’t give the Feds the upper hand, not when that ran the risk of landing Merrick, Hesh, Logan, Keegan in some shallow grave.
Rorke sneered. “So that’s the kinda game you want to play? Alright, little martyr, keep your secrets. But listen up, and listen good: when I find all ‘em out, because I will find out, you’ll wish you hadn’t been so blindly loyal to those damn mutts. Better hope you’ve still got most of your fingers when that day comes ‘round.”
The grip on your hair relinquished, and your head dipped low, too fatigued to support its weight on your own. You were content to stay like that, crumpled and weak, but the sound of rustling fabric bid you to remain present and raise your lidded gaze.
Your stomach dropped at the sight of Rorke pulling out a syringe from a pocket on his tactical vest.
“Remember this?” Its needle glistened menacingly in the dull lamplight. The man must have seen the brief panic that flitted across your face because he gave a wry chuckle. “Hell, of course y’do. No need for a reintroduction, then.”
Without further delay, Rorke jabbed the syringe into a bulging vein in your neck, dehydration making it appear more prominent than usual. Your fear spiked as he injected its contents into your already-fragile system. Compared to the previous dose, you began to experience the drug’s effects much faster, blood suddenly afire, choking on hurried gasps, jaw locked. It held your body hostage while it hijacked your biological milieu and scrambled your brain.
The bombardment on your five senses was so overwhelming that you had to close your eyes, the surrounding visual stimuli too abrasive to withstand in your compromised state. When you did finally blink them open again, the scene that greeted you was of a different man, a man whose presence you greatly welcomed.
Decked out in full gear and face lathered in greasepaint wherever his mask failed to conceal skin, Keegan stood several paces behind Rorke. Arms crossed, feet shoulder-width apart, cold stare devoid of any affection but flowing with disappointment. Before, he’d spoken everything you had never wanted to hear; this time, however, the apparition uttered not a single syllable.
A flash of white heat diffused throughout your body from head to toe as rage superseded pain.
Did he really think you were a failure, a disgrace? Was that why he opted to hold his tongue, finding you unworthy, an utter waste of his breath?
You recalled the days when he had barely spared you a glance beyond ensuring you weren’t falling behind. When he had gradually begun to reference you as an irreplaceable part of their established collective; when eliciting a low chuckle from him had been considered a victory and earning his praise had become something of an addiction. When he had listened to your whispered confession then offered up a weakness of his own; when he had agreed to learn bit by bit how to give you his heart and how to take yours in turn.
Looking back, the two of you had come so far. And yet, the fruits of your labor would go uneaten. You weren’t foolish enough to assume survival was still a possibility after a few more rounds of torture; if your mind didn’t break first, then your body would surely shut down.
Two good months. That was all you had gotten with him as a lover.
Just two months.
Another punch to your liver yanked you from your spiraling thoughts. “You ready to talk? No? Suit yourself.”
The onslaught resumed, ripping old wounds anew, further bruising already-sore skin, weakening calcium-deficient bones. Truth be told, you’d been ready to talk for the past eight cycles of this shit, but loyalty prevented you from squealing like a pig. Regretfully, this very same loyalty was beginning to feel misplaced.
Were they even searching for you? Was he? Had your comrades so easily written you off as KIA, unable to justify expending valuable, scarce resources on a mere stray?
Sure, Keegan’s last visit had been cruel, biting, but at least he had acknowledged your existence, your situation. The exchange, though agonizing, had reinvigorated you with purpose and determination to make it out of this hellhole alive. Now, if this fabricated Keegan would only address you, then the cracks in your composure and willpower could be rectified, bestowing upon you the strength to persevere, to suffer in silence until either your rescue or your death.
If he would only speak to you as a human being separate from this current timeline of misery and monsters among men, then maybe you had a real chance here. Maybe, you would again bask in the warmth of a glorious sunrise.
Say something.
He didn’t, of course. It shouldn’t have surprised you; he had never been the type to fill the quiet with nonsensical chatter. But you needed this, as starved of him as you were of food and water. You’d wait three seconds for him to correct himself, or else you would give him a piece of your mind, a proper tongue-lashing, scratchy throat and raw vocal cords be damned.
A well-aimed kick in the calf triggered a mental countdown.
Three. . .
Continuous heavy blows struck your temple, the resulting craters spouting a stream of blood, its damage producing a shrill ringing in your ears.
Two . . .
Forgetting the sound of his voice, struggling to replicate the unhurried yet impassioned cadence with which he spoke, gone was his deep tenor—
One.
“God, make it stop,” were the words that left your cracked, chapped lips. But there was no God to answer your pleas; not down here. Still, you begged. “Please, just make it fucking stop.”
Keegan said nothing, content to continue his silent appraisal of the scene before him. Scrutinizing your weaknesses, judging how much more damage you could endure before your total destruction. A sentinel, a voyeur of your rawest pain.
Rorke, looming above like impending doom, a deadly omen, simply laughed and laughed.
And in that moment, you couldn’t decide which of the two men you hated more.
tbc.
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agendabymooner · 10 months
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lost in japan ! max v. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc) - tltl series extra
“i was hoping i could get lost in your paradise.”
summary: sylvie and max in japan. sylvie’s new obsession. a lot of shopping. and twitter/instagram wars. OR f1 twt summarized each one of max’s posts in his ig story after he and sylvie ford went to japan without any notice.
content warning: use of explicit language, established relationship, threads of posts regarding their relationship, nothing just an inchident serious just fluff and possibly humour, press the pictures for the full view!
note: me: i’m gonna update the masterlist. also me: haha funny brain post some more.
i don’t feel alright today but i hope y’all are doing good and touching grass. enjoy xx
masterlist
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tagged maxverstappen1
liked by tillywolff, landonorris, georgerussell63
comments have been limited
yukitsunoda0511 did you go to akihabara then? liked by sylvieeford
maxverstappen1 she practically lived there if i’m being honest 😀
danielricciardo watch out mustang he might steal your supermodel career liked by sylvieeford
sylvieeford he already snatched it. by the weave and all
landonorris left the country as an avid animal crossing gamer and supermodel, came back as an animal crossing gamer and supermodel with a hint of otaku liked by sylvieeford
sylvieeford i can be hot and be obsessed with certain fandoms at the same time, best friend 🤐
landonorris i know, best friend. and i fw it 😍
pierregasly max had been texting us in the groupchat asking yuki about animes and street foods. he was studying that’s why he’s on the phone all the time 😂 liked by sylvieeford
sylvieeford we had a tour guide for a reason maxverstappen1 😭
maxverstappen1 yuki knew the seedy areas that we didn’t know about. how did you think i found our way into that alleyway of vending machines?
yukitsunoda0511 i helped him
sylvieeford it was quite sketchy but thank you yuki 😀 take me somewhere with lights next time caddy
charles_leclerc did you get me something?
sylvieeford my priceless presence during the next race?
charles_leclerc i’m hoping for something like some stuff from the mario theme park.
shawnmendes i’m glad you took my advice 😉 liked by sylvieeford
sylvieeford am i ever glad that i did.
maxverstappen1 if we hadn’t been listening to your playlist we probably wouldn’t have anything to do at home 😅
tillywolff is there anything for the little cubs perhaps??? 👀 liked by sylvieeford
sylvieeford maxverstappen1 lol about that
maxverstappen1 you’re gonna hate us so much
tillywolff oh god, you two went all out on the kids. victoriaverstappen these two are at it with the gifts again 🥲
victoriaverstappen we should swap lives for a day at some point and see how much clutter would you step on when you get them toys
sylvieeford actually we got them new friends and some new clothes from the nintendo shop 😉 then we went to sanrioland and got them all…
tillywolff you two need to stop the retail therapy
maxverstappen1 what’s done is done, tils 🤷‍♀️
christianhorner i’m glad you two missed me 🙄 liked by sylvieeford
sylvieeford don’t worry we got you something to compensate 😉
christianhorner i don’t even want to know.
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maxverstappen1 posted a story !!!
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bonus !!!
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sipsteainanxiety · 1 year
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okay sooooo while procrastinating on my responsibilities i decided to make a giant list of the bkg/reader fics i've read (so far) on ao3. here's a link to the tumblr fic rec list i made a while ago too lol. please keep in mind that not all of these works are sfw!! i will label the nsfw-containing ones ofc but, as always, be cautious!
note: these are all LONG FICS. as in i sorted the bkg/reader tag on ao3 by word count and kept going until i hit works with abt 5k words. i might continue to add onto this list as i read more LOL idk
be still, just for me by WitchofWriting. this is THE bkg isekai fic tht i'm sure everyone has read lol. contains nsfw. there's also tedium in blue (mermaid bkg). i think that was one of the first bkg fics ive ever read and it will always be special to me LOL
of snowscapes & explosions by sugarbun. tbh i haven't finished this yet but from what i did read it's good!! canon compliant
other by Deadite. also haven't finished this one yet but it's a kind of coraline au!! interesting stuff tbh
enouement by LadysDaze. i read this fic a looooong time ago so i can't rmb much but it was p interesting! it's a choose your own ending type fic. there's also memento mori (fantasy fic w good worldbuilding tbh), entangle, expecting the unexpected (pregnancy/family fic), star-crossed (fantasy), blood bond (vampire bkg) and its sequel blood union tht i haven't read yet sdjfdfkg
misery business by siegmunde. OHHHMYYGODDD this fic. i was obsessed with it omg. i cannot even explain how insane it made me. has nsfw at end
cruel world by lydiasgrace. idt i finished this one but i do like villain reader LOL
like ghosts in snow by Jupiters_Witch. genuinely i think this fic ruined me /pos. vampire au & does contain nsfw things!! mind the tags
surrender (whenever you're ready) by OfMermaids (hi merms!!). THIS FIC. CHANGED MY LIFE!!! literally anything by merms is sososo good. i want to eat them all whole. on loop in my head 24/7!! contains nsfw btw. there's also the widening sky (mermaid bkg tht made me sad for days) and on my way (to you).
white curtains by arsonphobic. tbh i havent finished this one too but its got an older (by a yr) reader whom i liked! canon compliant i think
our love at sunset by LittleSponge. horizon zero dawn au. very well done imo. ending made me cry LOL (in a good way). contains nsfw
uncharted by NyxRedfoxWinchester. reader's quirk in this is soooo fucking cool to me. i read it a while ago so i dont rmb a lot but like i rmb the quirk and bkg LMFAO.
zigzags by hokshi. i can't rmb this fic all too well either but ik i liked it LOL. contains nsfw!!
newsflash, asshole (i kinda love you) by YukiRiikus_Reading_Room. fake dating au!! idt it contains nsfw but it has some steamy parts
i melt with you by art_deco_deity. i am so sad this fic hasn't been updated in a hot min bc its genuinely got fantastic bkg characterization!!!
garden of lungs by 0weCrew. ive read so many hanahaki aus that they've blurred together but this was v good!
exiles by BookWormOnAString. i'm currently reading this one actually! fantasy au with dragon kiri!!
how're your hands? by Spazztastic. another fic i read a long time ago. it's canon compliant i blv but i rly liked the reader tbh
body switch up by Fandomness_randommess. a body swap au if the title wasn't obvious enough LOL. it was interesting reading how both reader and bkg dealt with their predicament here pfft
husband for hire by btp. also currently reading this!! stardew au! there's also boîte de pandore. v good shit
gemini syndrome by opal_vortex. LMAOOOO this was such a fun read ngl. masked singer au!! will contain nsfw
mistletoe by WhenSarahSmiles. this is a UA christmas/new year's booklet that is sooooo well done tbh. i love bkg in it. super cute
and you take me the way i am by willowser (hi will!!). pro hero bkg in this >>>>> he is so AHHHH!! makes me insane. very well written!! contains slight nsfw.
bar tool by thunderhead. LMAO this is like a bar and band au combined?? i loooveeee bkg in this and his interactions with reader pfft. contains nsfw
sugar scorched by restwellsoon. culinary au!! bkg is like gordan ramset ngl LMAOO its rly cute imo and very detailed wrt the cooking things from what i rmb. idt it has nsfw
war paint by andypantsx3. i love how andie writes bkg tbh. he makes me wanna beat him up. there's also statistically significant, and cover shot (through the heart). all of them contain nsfw!!
learning your love language by hokshi. the author has the tag 'when ur love language is getting punched in the face' on this fic and honestly? LMAOOO so true for bkg. contains nsfw!!
oil paintings and late night jam sessions by insanityrunsinthe_family. this was also one of the first bkg fics i've ever read and it is so so so good. it's college au bkg and i looovee every part of it.
the phoenix by orphan_account. i'm so sad this fic was dropped but its plot is genuinely so interesting to me. it's more aizawa/reader tho tbh.
sleeping in the garden by Petrichorium (hi loriii<3). i will ALWAYS plug this fic. single dad bkg au!! sososo fcking good, trust. will contain nsfw
jealousy, jealousy by lytters. i think i rbed this on tumblr already but its such a fun read tbh LOL.
fathoms below by 32Q27. i'd started reading this and didn't get to finish bc life. mermaid au!!
a fractured flame by Magicow12. fantasy au!! very entertaining from what i rmb! contains nsfw
breath of a dragon by free_deku. i rec'd this before but im doing it again bc it's that good omg. fantasy & reincarnation au. contains nsfw!!
bakugô wants a ride. by Bragi. LMAO contrary to the title i dont think it has nsfw pfft. mechanic reader tht bkg's crushin on!!
turning page by rhydonium. THIS IS ALSO SOO GOOD omg i almost forgot abt it. god bkg!!!! i literally cannot describe how good it is.
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