#Dave voice: I’m so happy right now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

janaispunk · 2 months

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three’s a crowd

pairing: Dave York x f!reader x OFC

word count: ~3.4k

summary: it’s your birthday and dave has a special surprise for you. (this is literally 3k of porn without plot, there’s no denying it)

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ only, fluff, able bodied reader, reader’s hair gets pulled, dom/sub dynamics, sub!reader, threesome, established relationship, unprotected p in v, oral sex (m&f receiving), sir kink, praise kink, light degradation kink, pet names, dirty talk, use of a blindfold, use of restraints, let me know if i missed something please 🫶🏻

a/n: dedicated to my lovely friend em @catchallfangirl, the happiest (early, depending on where you are) birthday to you! i hope this is something like what you wished for. i’m so happy to know you and grateful to be able to call you my friend. thank you for being my wife, my partner in shit talking, my fellow pedro lover, my fellow swiftie and for always being there for me. i hope we’ll be able to meet each other in person one day. i love you so much babe 🤍

dividers by @saradika-graphics because who else 🫶🏻

find my full masterlist here & follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates!

It has been an almost perfect birthday. You’ve had the day off, just like your boyfriend, who surprised you with breakfast in bed, a day filled with all your favorite activities, a beautiful cake and a delicious dinner at the restaurant you both love.

Only one thing is missing to make the day absolutely perfect, but, judging from your current position and the fact that you’re only clad in your prettiest set of lingerie right now, perfection might be within your reach already.

“Close your eyes, baby. Hands behind your back, good girl.”

You’re kneeling on your bed, hands obediently folded behind you. Dave caresses your cheek before you feel him tie a blindfold over your eyes. A mewl full of need escapes you and he kisses you softly while his fingers ghost over the necklace that he gave you over dinner as a birthday gift, just a short hour ago.

“Patience, sweetheart.”

His footsteps retreat and you hear the click of the bedroom door. Did he just leave you like this?

You open your mouth with half a mind to protest, but then you hear movement again and lips are pressing gently against yours. Not Dave’s, you can tell even with your eyes closed, but still someone who’s touch you know.

“Happy birthday, baby,” a familiar female voice hums.

A gasp of surprise leaves you and your hands fly forward to her hips before you can stop yourself. Dave tuts at you, from a little further away, you think.

“What did I say, about your hands?”

“Sorry, sir,” you mumble and reluctantly retract your fingers again.

She breathes a soft laugh and your lips chase hers, but she seems to be leaning away and you can’t reach her in the darkness behind your eyelids that Dave has put you in. Instead, her fingertips start trailing over your body, starting at your shoulders and stroking down over the swell of your breasts, toying with the straps of the expensive lingerie and letting them snap against your flesh before continuing onward, over your stomach and down to the hem of your panties.

Her touch causes goosebumps to rise on your skin and you’re breathing heavier, leaning into it and interlocking your fingers to keep yourself from touching her again.

“Good girl,” she coos when she presses down on the fabric at your crotch, already drenched with your arousal and her lips are back on yours, kissing you more urgently now. Her tongue slips into your mouth and she swallows the desperate moans that are spilling from you.

Another hand sinks into your hair and you feel Dave’s presence beside you, his strong grip that pushes your head forward to not let the kissing stop, even if you wanted to.

“Do you like your surprise?” he rasps into your ear and pulls you back so that you can answer him.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

Both of them chuckle at your beaming smile and the breathless delight in your voice.

It has been some time since the three of you have been together like this, especially outside of the club that you and Dave sometimes visit and where you met her for the first time, and while you’re more than satisfied in your relationship with Dave, being with both of them at the same time is a different kind of thrill that always fuels your arousal like nothing else.

She pulls down the cups of your bra and pinches your already pebbled nipples between her fingertips, causing you to chase after her touch when she pulls away again, only to be rewarded with her mouth sucking on the sensitive flesh instead and her teeth nibbling at your hardened buds.

You’re squirming under her ministrations, still fighting to keep your hands behind your back. Dave has taken to your neck, mouthing at the delicate skin there to suck and bite bruises into it until you’re a mess between them.

They keep teasing you, waiting for you to break, their touches stoking the desire that’s burning inside of you, but it’s never enough, always leaving you with craving more, more, more.

“Please,” a broken whimper leaves your throat eventually, after what feels like hours. A sheen of sweat is covering your forehead, the blindfold sticking to your skin. You already feel filthy, you can tell how soaked the thin fabric of your panties is, how you’re all able to smell your arousal in the air.

“Please what, baby?” she asks, biting down harder on your nipple and making you gasp.

“More, I need more, please.”

They both chuckle, their breath hot against your skin.

“Use your words,” Dave rasps, his lips moving on your neck. “What exactly do you need?”

Heat is creeping up your cheeks, always embarrassed to be forced to vocalize your desires, but you know them and the games they like to play with you. You won’t get what you want, unless you ask for it.

“I- I need you to fuck me. Please.” Your voice is high pitched and whiny, leaving no doubts about how desperate you are.

An open mouthed kiss is pressed against your lips, one that you’re eager to reciprocate, and Dave groans into your mouth.

“Alright.” You feel him shift, hear the sound of him opening his belt and stepping out of his pants. “On all fours, then. I’m gonna fuck your mouth, just like you asked, right?” The predatory tone in his voice and her condescending giggle at the way he’s twisting your words are enough to have even more slick gathering between your thighs.

You nod and obediently move, positioning yourself on your hands and knees, your mouth wide open and waiting, just how he likes it.

She’s still toying with your breasts, pulling on your nipples and slapping your skin a few times, causing more moans and whines to tumble from your lips. Dave’s fingers gently stroke your face, swiping over your lips and dipping into your mouth to press down on your tongue, then pulling back out and smearing your saliva around your mouth and over your chin.

“Good girl,” comes his praise, paired with a light slap against your cheek. You’re burning up, almost trembling with anticipation and pure want.

Finally, he sinks his cock into your waiting mouth, your lips stretching to accommodate his girth. You eagerly circle the head with your tongue, determined to make him feel as good as you possibly can, to earn more of his praise.

At the same time, her hand pulls your panties down and two fingers plunge into your heat, forcing a garbled moan from you. You’re overwhelmed, can’t decide where to move, if you should push back against her fingers or chase his cock with your mouth, eager to take him deeper.

You’re rocking back and forth, trying to do both, not even registering that she moved until you feel her tongue against your burning core, lapping at your slick and teasing your clit in small, controlled licks. Her fingers start thrusting quicker while her tongue keeps stimulating you and you feel your body sprinting towards an orgasm, the blissful high finally in reach after their endless teasing.

Dave speeds up as well, sinking deeper into your throat, causing you to splutter and drool around him. It sets you on fire, the feeling of being at his mercy, the thought of him using your mouth for his pleasure, and combined with her constant licks on your clit, you hurtle over the edge. It takes your breath away, the pleasure overwhelming, so many sensations stimulating your body at once, only heightened by the loss of your sight. You pulse wildly around her fingers that are pressed deep into you, curling slightly, creating a delicious pressure against your g-spot and prolonging your orgasm.

When you finally come down, she slowly slides them out of you and you think you can hear her licking them clean, moaning softly at the taste of you.

“You like sucking cock that much, baby?” she coos, her thumb swiping over your clit once more and making your thighs tremble with the effort of holding yourself upright while you try to nod in reply to her.

Dave’s fist tightens in your hair and he thrusts into your mouth a few more times, as deep as he can go, causing you to gag violently before he pulls you off of him. The blindfold is soaked with your tears and spit is dribbling down your chin, but between your gasps for breath, you’re still smiling up at where you think he’s standing in front of you.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs.

His fingers find the blindfold that’s tangled with your hair by now and slowly remove it, careful not to pull on the strands in the process. Your face lights up when your eyes find his again and you revel in the unmasked hunger in his gaze, an expression that you’re sure you’re mirroring with your own.

“So good,” he repeats and leans down to capture your lips. You willingly meet him, leaning into the kiss and enjoying the sudden gentleness that will surely be replaced by rough touches again in no time.

Her fingers are still playing with your pussy, sliding through the wetness and circling over your clit before dipping down and thrusting into you again, causing you to moan into Dave’s mouth.

“I think she’s ready for more,” her voice sounds from behind you and you don’t need to see her face to picture the glint in her eyes. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Her hand connects with your ass in a resounding smack and you jerk forward, the sudden pain hitting you unexpectedly. It transforms into pleasure in an instant and another moan tumbles from your lips as you’re pushing back against her, wishing for another slap or her fingers to fuck you again or maybe both, you’re not sure at this point, nothing but raw desire pulsing through your veins.

“Please,” you whimper, craning your neck to meet her eyes behind you for the first time tonight. The evil smirk on her face has your pussy clenching around nothing and you rock back again, desperate for anything that they’re willing to give you.

“You wanna taste her?” Dave asks you, his lips close to your cheek and his voice raspy in your ear.

You nod eagerly and they move your body until you’ve turned around, still on your hands and knees but now facing the headboard where she’s leaning against the pillows, her legs already spread and her pussy on display for you, glistening with her arousal.

She’s so pretty, you think to yourself as you’re crawling towards her, desperate to be closer, to taste her, to make her feel good, to please her.

“Please, can I?” you ask, feeling small under the hard look in her eyes that she regards you with.

As an answer, her hand fists your hair and pulls you down, practically pressing your face down against her folds. Your tongue darts out to lick through her slit, her wetness gathering in your mouth and you moan out loud at the taste, the tangy sweetness turning you on even further. Eagerly, you focus on her clit, starting with little kitten licks that have her writhing underneath you, her fingernails digging into your scalp, before you flatten your tongue and apply more pressure.

Dave chooses this moment to thrust his cock into you without warning and you wail out, the unexpected stretch of your walls around his length sending sparks of the most pleasurable pain up your spine.

“Didn’t tell you to stop,” he snarls, spanking your ass roughly and pulling out until only his tip is still sheathed inside of you before he pushes forward again with so much force that you almost collapse under him.

You suck her clit into your mouth, unable to stop the moans that are forming in your throat. The added vibrations have her crying out, fisting your hair even tighter and pressing your face down against her folds.

You alternate by fucking her with your tongue and sucking on her clit, delighting in the sounds that you’re pulling from her and the way her slick is pouring out of her, just waiting to be licked up and savoured by you. You gaze up at her, taking in her dazed expression, amazed that you’re the one to make her feel this good.

Dave doesn’t let up, plunging into you again and again, his cock dragging against your walls and propelling you to new heights of pleasure while his hand keeps slapping your ass, causing you to clench around him every single time.

When her moans reach a higher pitch and her grip turns desperate, holding you down until she pulses against your mouth and floods your tongue with her wetness, Dave reaches around and swipes his thumb over your clit, just once. It’s enough to make you come again, make you whine into her and tremble under his touch, until you feel like your whole body is filled with nothing but pure bliss.

They keep you like this, barely able to move with his hands on your hips and her fingers in your hair, until you lick her to another shuddering orgasm. Dave lands one more playful slap against your backside before he pulls out of you.

You’re vaguely aware that they’re moving your body until you’re on your back, your eyes dazedly flicking back and forth between them. You’re spent, but you still want more, never want this feeling to end.

She kneels beside you, her fingers closing around your wrists and pulling them up until you’re spread out underneath them. She holds you down as she leans down to give you a kiss, her tongue darting out to play with yours and you both moan at your combined tastes on each other’s lips.

Dave spreads your legs and situates himself between them, the tip of his cock nudging at your soaked entrance, fueling your desire once again.

“Alright, baby,” he says, his tone carefully controlled, “you just lie here nice and pretty and let us take care of you, yeah? Don’t move those hands.”

“But-” you start to protest in a feeble voice and Dave fixes you with a hard glare.

“You want to be good, don’t you?”

You bite your lip in thought; the glint in his eyes has you more than aware that you’re entering dangerous territory. But you haven’t felt his skin under your fingertips at all yet and you desperately wish that you could.

“Yeah,” you admit, your eyes darting between the both of them, “but I really want to touch you… And it’s my birthday after all.”

You pout up at them. She raises an eyebrow and Dave shakes his head disapprovingly.

“Which is why you’ve gotten a very nice gift. And now, to show us how grateful you are, you’re gonna be good and do as you’re told.”

His voice is cold, which only results in more heat gathering in your core. You very rarely don’t back down when he gets like this, but right now, riling him up feels kind of fun.

“But I can also show you how grateful I am with my hands,” you suggest, throwing him a wink for good measure.

“You’re on thin ice, sweetheart,” she laughs, her grip around your wrists tightening.

Dave studies you, his jaw set and fire burning in his eyes. You love him like this. He shakes his head and leans over to the nightstand, grabbing two pairs of handcuffs and hovering over you.

“Fine,” he bites. “If you’re asking for it, we’re gonna do it like this. One more but and you’re gonna regret it, are we clear?”

You give up and nod, not exactly keen on finding out how he would make you regret more objections. They secure your wrists to the bedposts until your arms are spread wide and your movements are severely restricted. You tug at your restraints experimentally, but it’s no use. The feeling of being utterly at their mercy has you feeling hot all over again and you subconsciously try rubbing your legs together, which results in pressing them up against Dave’s hips. He chuckles, his fingers finding your thighs and digging into the flesh, spreading you open for him again.

The expression on his face is ravenous as he looks down, taking you in, completely on display for him, obscene amounts of wetness coating your pussy and inner thighs.

“Poor baby,” he murmurs, mock sympathy lacing his tone, “you’re dripping for it, made such a big mess already, huh?”

Your responding whine breaks off when he sinks into you again in one hard thrust, burying his entire length inside of you and punching the air from your lungs. He hoists one of your legs up and rests it over his shoulder, pushing down on your other thigh until you’re spread out as wide as possible, taking him even deeper like this.

You had almost tuned her out for a second, your eyes glued to the face of the man on top of you, until she leans down from beside you and starts caressing your body with her mouth once more. She sucks your tits into her mouth and bites down on your nipples so hard that the sensation is bordering on painful in the most pleasurable way, before she slowly kisses her way downwards, until her tongue is flicking at your clit again, eliciting breathless moans from you.

You wish you could move your hands, longing to grab her hair or his hips, pull them both as close as you can, but you’re immobilized, forced to take whatever they choose to give you. Dave grins down at you and thrusts in particularly deep, nudging at your cervix and causing your eyes to almost roll back into your skull.

“Eyes on the mirror,” he commands, “look at your dirty little self.”

Goosebumps are erupting on your skin at his words and you force your gaze up to the ceiling, where Dave installed a huge mirror a couple of months ago, under your watchful (and giggly) eye.

Seeing yourself in this position, your wrists tied, writhing under the ministrations of the two of them, sends an intense surge of arousal through you. Paired with the sensation of Dave’s cock hammering into you and her tongue insistently teasing your clit, your pleasure is mounting higher and higher, your toes are curling and you’re tensing up until it feels like your whole body snaps in an overwhelming release.

You’re clenching wildly around his length, your eyes fall shut and stars are bursting behind your eyelids. All the pressure inside of you is exploding and a gush of wetness releases out of you, soaking Dave’s cock, her tongue and the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck,” he gasps, plunging deep into you once more, “you’re so fucking hot, fucking messy, good girl.” His voice stumbles over the words, sounding utterly wrecked and after a couple more erratic thrusts he stills and comes with a shout, spilling his release inside of you.

His head hangs between his shoulder blades and he eases himself down until his sweat slicked forehead is resting on your stomach, his arms wrapped around your middle. She joins in, her head resting on your chest and peppering your skin with kisses for a few peaceful moments, before they release your wrists and the three of you sink into the sheets in a tangle of limbs.

Eventually, you gather enough energy to clean each other up and after more extensive cuddling, she says goodbye with a deep kiss against your lips, all softness now. You thank her, your voice still breathless and she shushes you, engulfing you in another hug. Dave walks her out and you hear them talking briefly before the door falls shut and he comes back into the bedroom to slip under the covers beside you, enveloping you in his embrace.

“Did I do good?” His breath fans against your neck and you smile, turning towards him to capture his lips.

“You did perfect.”

if you liked this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment, it truly makes my day every single time 🫶🏻

#janas fics #dave york #dave york fanfiction #dave york fic #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories #the equalizer 2 #dave york smut

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astermath · 9 months

Text

take a break.

pairing: dave lizewski x fem!reader

summary: dave has been overdoing the kickass activities, and you’re worried every other night could be his last. he tries to comfort you and tell you he’ll be okay. you’re not sure you believe him.

word count: 1.1K

tags: established relationship, mentions of injuries, dave being a sweetheart and loving his gf more than anything ofc, college au, regular font below!

“You’re such an idiot, Dave.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

You sigh deeply. This is the third time in two weeks he’s come to your dorm window, badly hurt, asking for help.

And of course you help him. He’s your boyfriend, yes, but sometimes you get so upset at him always getting hurt that you want him to just learn a lesson already.

But he never does. So you keep helping him.

You love him. Like a painful amount, almost. You’d been together since high school, back when you found out about his vigilante persona. Now you’re in college together, and though you support his activities and what he stands for, you’re scared it could all go very south very quickly. It seems like any time he goes out to fight these days could be his last.

He winces when you clean the cut on his cheek with some antiseptic. Normally, you’d apologise, saying you just want to help. But you’re quiet. You feel troubled, and Dave can tell.

He feels more conflicted than ever. He’s feeling like he has to choose; between his principles, what he stands for, and the love of his life, his favourite girl. And that’s just something he can’t do.

Because he know he’ll choose you. And he’ll spend the rest of his life feeling regretful over the people he didn’t save.

“You’re mad, right?”

“No shit.”

“Right.” He pauses for a second. “Sorry.”

“Just—“ you hold out your hands and sigh deeply. “Stop apologising.”

“But,” he sits up straighter suddenly, “alright.” He bites back the urge to say sorry again.

Now you feel bad for being mad. Because you decided to keep being his girlfriend, even though you knew about his endeavours. You knew of the risks, of everything he stood for, and you accepted it. Because you love him. So, so much. You even took on being his personal nurse, treating his injuries whenever he needed it. But lately it’s been too much for your poor heart to handle.

It’s one thing to know your boyfriend is out there fighting dangerous criminals at night.

It’s another to see him in the aftermath of it, on the brink of consciousness at your window.

“You know I wouldn’t ask you to stop.” Your words make him look back up, searching for your eyes even though you’re avoiding his gaze. His heart aches for it, the way you look at him. But he can tell by how shaky your voice is that you’re already on the brink of crying.

“I know.” He responds. He’s quiet, he doesn’t want to make you feel like you have to say anything.

“It’s just— Dave, this is… This is a lot. You’ve been overdoing it.” You finally look up, and though he’s happy to see your pretty face, his heart breaks at the sight of your teary eyes. Of course he’s seen you cry before, hell, pretty much every time you watch a movie together you cry. But now it’s because of him. And he doesn’t know what to do this time.

“It’s just— crime’s been ramping up lately, baby. And someone has to do something about it.” He knows what you’re about to say. That it’s not his responsibility, at least not alone. That he shouldn’t feel like it’s his sole duty to keep people safe. And you know that he knows you’re going to say that. So you keep quiet.

“But why does it have to be you?” Your voice sounds shaky, like it’s going to break if you talk too loud.

“Because, if not me, then who else? I mean seriously, I can’t just have you out there in a world this dangerous. What if something happens to you?”

“How do you think I feel? What if something happens to you, Dave? Then what? What if I lose the person closest to me because he’s too stubborn to take a break?”

He doesn’t know how to reply to that. Because he knows you’re right. You’ve been in the right from the start, his sense of purpose is just too connected to his persona. To Kickass.

“I’m sorry,” he reaches out for your hands, and you don’t pull away this time. They’re rough, calloused, but you’ve grown so accustomed to them. They’re warm, big, familiar. They’re Dave.

To his surprise, you lean into him, your head resting against his chest. Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around you, his hand running up and down your spine in an attempt to soothe you. You’re tired too. Not only are you basically his personal nurse, but you’re also a full time college student. Dave is too. And he’d be failing if it wasn’t for you taking extra notes for him.

“I don’t know how much more Kickass my heart can take right now…”

“I get that. Ill, uhm… I’ll take a break. I promise.”

“Are you sure?” You look up at him. You’re giving him those puppy eyes that he can’t resist, whether you’re trying to or not. Maybe he’s just that weak for you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “And I’ll take you out on a date soon. A real date, like in those movies you like to watch.”

“Will you get me flowers too?”

“Don’t spoil your own surprise now.”

You giggle, and the sound of it nearly makes him forget about all his injuries.

The two of you sit quietly for a moment, simply enjoying each other’s embrace. Now that you think about it, it’s been a while since you’ve been together like this. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, it gives you time to breathe, to think. To let everything sink in.

“You know I’d never ask you to quit being Kickass, but… One day, you’re gonna have to put it to rest baby.”

“I know.” he sighs. “I’m getting more used to being Dave though. Or— liking being Dave.” He presses a kiss to your cheek. “You’ve been making that a lot easier.”

“Yeah. I mean Kickass is cool and all, really cool, but I prefer Dave.” You peck his lips, trying to pull away right after, but he doesn’t let you. He captures your lips once more, melting into the kiss and cradling your face gently.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” You smile against his lips.

“For liking Dave. He appreciates it.”

“Yeah, well… Tell him I don’t just like him, I love him.”

“He loves you too.” His face is graced by a love drunk smile. How can someone just be so lovely?

“And Kickass is alright too I guess.”

To that, he laughs, though it hurts his ribs a bit. He definitely bruised them, for sure.

Or maybe it’s the overwhelming love swelling in his chest.

🏷️ tag list!

@nephilimsss @tangerinesgf @dynamitehacke @izzyisstuff @cinawoah @amoebagrl @ykyouluvme @stilloverthinking @durag-tanaka @earth-elemental18 @777iii @a-simp-for-broken-people @reneehillary69 @erodastylinson @caxddce

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chaotic-iguana · 10 months

Text

Sleep

Summary: Reader suffers from lack of sleep, caused by a recent event. As she continues to overwork herself, she reaches her breaking point with near disastrous results. Starring concerned!steve murphy, chaotic idiot!steve murphy and clueless!reader. javi has my fucking heart though.

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no use of y/n though)

Rating: M

Wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings: fluff, mild angst, sort of a panic attack, mild MILD allusions to someone being creepy (not javi though), mild flirting, humour, lots of swearing sorry

this is my first fic - let me know your thoughts! check me out on ao3

masterlist.

“I swear to fucking god Murphy, if you don’t stop bouncing your leg against the table, I’m slamming your head right into it” is the gospel that flows out of your mouth at 7 am on a Monday morning. Feels like it’s gonna be a great week.

“The hell did I do? You’d think Connie’s cookies would be enough to get you animals off my back, but no, first sign of any damn fire an’ the first person you’d throw in?” Steve huffs. “Murphy”, he repeats mockingly. You scoff and roll your eyes at him, clenching and unclenching your fists in an attempt to talk yourself down from strangling the idiot situated two feet to your left before turning back to the paperwork in front of you. The one-foot-tall, monster stack of paperwork. Right. In. Front. Of. You. And would the golden boys ever do it themselves? If they ever got a moment’s relief from jacking each other off during missions (or however the hell they manage to fumble practically every single little op), maybe. But most of the time, you were stuck with it. Because god forbid the two princesses you were partnered with ever had to so much as lift a pen themselves. Hell would freeze over.

And it isn’t like you mind. At all, really. Half your job is the paperwork, and you’re happy to get it in order - if only to avoid Noonan’s wrath. Besides, what good is an agent if they can’t do their fucking job? In its entirety; not the half-assed shit most of the men did around the embassy. But a single glimpse of yourself in the mirror while rushing to leave the house revealed that these past few weeks of skipping lunch breaks, going home late, and taking files home to work on have been catching up with you - sunken, bloodshot eyes, cracked lips, and bruises smudged under your eyes now, perpetually, since the nightmares had started. Anything to keep you busy, right?

Another aggravating side effect of the amount of work you had taken on apart from the usual? The constant irritation. Marlene’s new nails, Katie’s suspicious last lay, the stupid fucking demon alarm clock that never quite managed to wake you up, the busted tire, the broken coffee machine, Dave from accounting’s downright idiotic whistling, your pen running out of ink, and finally - Murphy’s bouncing knee banging the table every fucking millisecond, practically in tune with the pounding ache beginning to form between your brows. If you were a better person, you’d let these things go. Such is life, right? But since the lack of sleep, the increased workload and general mishappenings had already created this beautiful trifecta of shit just to screw you over, better people could go fuck themselves. As could Murphy. “Don’t use your wife’s cooking as an excuse. I’m telling you, make another sound and die.” you spit out, whirling in your chair because the incessant fucking banging still hasn’t stopped - just in time to catch Peña sauntering in, already smirking.

“Already nailing Murphy’s balls, cariño? Careful, I’ll fall in love, baby.” You can hear the laughter in his crooning voice as he throws it over his shoulder - but you don’t care - can’t care, beyond the spots that seem to be forming at the edges of your vision. Were your fingers always a bit tingly? Or is that a new development, like your tongue suddenly feeling thick and heavy in your mouth, like you’re choking on it? But even though your thoughts feel slow and weighed down by molasses, rage sparks brighter in your mind as Peña’s flirty nicknames and bullshit teasing registers. You push away from your desk, and shoot up from the chair, striding towards the door to get some air - or you try to - because before you know it, your vision is blinded by white and you’re breathing quick, shallow breaths as you lay on the ground trying to figure out what the fuck is happening. Distantly, you can hear someone calling your name but it sounds so far away you barely even register it. Hands wrap around your wrist, your head, attempting to stabilize you, to ground you, as you flail wildly in a panic. A low hum begins to fill your senses, forming words that sound to fuzzy to understand or care about right now, but you lean into it, something in your being telling you it’s safe.

When your sight clears, you’re curled up on the on the floor trembling. Shaking, like a scared fucking child, while Peña kneels to hold you to his chest, repeating the same few phrases over and over: “You’re okay, it’s okay hermosa. You’re safe. Safe. No ones gonna hurt you, it’s over now, okay?” as Murphy stands next to him, watching with panic and a hint of sympathy in his gaze. You scramble away from them both, panting, nearly slipping in your effort to get to your feet. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, pretty. You’re okay” Peña repeats his assurances with his hands held out, palms facing you, as you stand on wobbling knees, wiping at your face.

“‘M fine” is all you whisper to them hoarsely before ducking your head and rushing out of the pathetically cramped room you three work in. You can hear footsteps behind you, but can’t find it in you to turn around - not even at the panicked sounds of your name being called by a familiar voice. You’re making a scene, you know it, but you don’t care. It’s all too much, and you’re too far gone. Reaching the parking lot, you struggle to unlock your car as your trembling fingers drop the keys twice. Swearing, you resolve and pick them up again, pressing them and reaching for the door. But just before your fingers find the handle another hand - much, much larger than yours - splays out on the window to stop you, just as Peña’s signature bedhead comes into view. He looks at you with wide, concerned eyes, his mouth tucked low at the corners, like he’s disappointed. You want to melt, you do, because the melting pot of emotions you have for him make you preen at his worry - but your usual defense mechanisms humble you. And so you sharpen your claws, flash your fangs, and the hackles raise again, leaving a “What, Peña?” to come tumbling out in a tone so sharp it makes you flinch. HIs frown just deepens as his gaze rakes over your form frantically, as if checking for injury. He says nothing, pursing his lips further before snatching your wrist and tugging you behind him as he stalks to his car, opening the side door. You raise a brow at him, and he counters by jerking his head towards the car, scowling slightly. You get in, slightly confused, and wait for him to walk around and get into the drivers seat. “What the fuck, Peña? I just fainted, I’m not senile. And I don’t give a shit how mad you are, you can’t just-just drag me to your car and f-force me to get in. The fuck are you playing at?” you begin to ramble, fury somehow still rising at a dizzying speed. Peña doesn’t respond, just starts driving while looking straight ahead while you continue fumbling over a panicked rant so pathetic it sounds nonsensical to your own ears. “…And what? You just enjoy calling me s-stupid nicknames? You think it’s cute to flirt with me while I’m- while I pass out?” This one makes his nostrils flare, eyes darkening a bit while his jaw tightens just for a second before letting go. You pause for a second, getting your breath while your hands still shake in your lap. “I’m fine, it’s fine. Can I just go home please? I’ve already done the month’s paperwork for all the ops we have planned, and you can just give me the rest post-op. I’m just a bit under the weather, I just need to lie down for a bit.” you start trying to reason, but the stubborn ass just keeps driving, and alarm starts bubbling in your chest again. You look down to your lap while you fiddle with your thumbs, willing to control the irrational fear yelling at you that something’s wrong every second Peña chooses to stay silent.

“Think I was flirting with you while you passed out? Y’think I don’t see it, you working yourself to the fucking bone? Think I can’t see how you’ve stopped eating, honey? Stopped laughing like you used to? Think I don’t know how late you’ve starting going home? As ‘f I’ll ever stop waitin’ for ya to clock out first so I know you’re home okay, baby. You gotta tell me what’s wrong - this is eatin’ you up.“

Peña’s tone softens, but his harsh whisper makes you turn your head to look at him. He sounds so…tortured, as if he’s the one suffering. He glances your way, locking eyes with you for a second before turning his head back to the road. You sit there and practically gape at him, your jaw slack as your head whirls. Peña knows? No, wait, he waits? For you to go home so you’re safe? He cares? What the fuck? Confused, all that comes out of your mouth is a mighty elegant open-mouthed “huh?” before you blink at him, waiting for him to continue.

“You gotta know by now, sweetheart. Gotta see how I’ve been lookin’ at you. You’re the smartest fuckin’ agent I’ve seen, with the balls to take down men I’d sweat to be ‘n the same room with. You swear like a sailor, an’ make me laugh till I’m chokin’ on my own damn cigarette. Tell me what’s hurtin’ you, honey. I can’t promise I’ll fix it, but I can swear to you I’ll damn well try my best.” He responds, turning to hold your gaze as his own eyes widen, and his brows turn down. Puppy eyes, you think.

Your brain has gone from hazy to too fucking clear in a matter of five minutes, and now it feels like your thoughts are gonna come ripping out of your head. So you just blink at him, again, before reaching an unsteady hand out to cup his cheek. “I’m okay, I swear. Just-you remember that deal I had to cut last month? With the sicario? For intel on that lab?” Peña nods, and you continue. “Fucker led me to a dead end. Ambushed me. O-only got out ‘cause his gun jammed, and his child-soldier ran away. I just-this is so fucking dumb I’ve been in worse but- I can’t get it out of my head. The shit he said to me, the way he looked at me, t-touched me. I should be dead or worse, Peña. And I nearly was.“ you look down again, ashamed of the truth that’s spilling out of your mouth. It’s so small, so weak, you just want to fold into yourself and never come out. Your voice wobbles towards the end, tears filling your eyes as you turn your head away from the man you’ve wanted for so long to save whatever dignity you still have left. “‘N I can’t sleep anymore. Just see- or feel him every time. So thought I’d work for a bit. Clearly didn’t fucking work out, though.” small hiccups have started to punctuate your words, testament to the tears now flowing down your cheeks. Peña pulls up to an unfamiliar building and turns to you.

“‘S Javi, honey. Look at me, pretty baby.” He cradles your chin between his thumb and his forefinger to turn your head towards him. “None of that was stupid, okay? Come lie down at my place. I’ll sit in a damn chair next to you and fight him away if he comes in your dreams, sweetheart, okay? Nothin’ to be ‘fraid of. Never letting any fuckers near you again.” Javi leans in to brush a kiss to your forehead before stepping out of the car and hooking his index and middle finger to beckon you too. You step out of the truck and towards him, smiling while swiping at your face. “Didn’t know this was what the girls meant every time they bragged about sleeping with you” you snark softly, with a teasing grin on your face as you reach him. Javi rolls his eyes playfully before unlocking the door.

“Ain’t gotta do no sleepin’ you don’t want to, honey. You’re here to get some rest. Be a good girl and sleep f’me, and I’ll keep you up for as long as you like after,” he throws over his shoulder with a matching grin and a wink.

#javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fluff #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña #steve murphy #narcos fanfiction #javi #soft javi #fluff #hurt/comfort #ive never done this before let’s see how this goes heehee #javier pena fic #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena imagines #javier pena narcos #narcos #cool-iguana

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meiiie · 6 months

Text

dave lizewski, i’m so into you. (pt. 1)

summary: you say something unexpected about Kick-Ass while discussing with your friends which hero you prefer the most.. Kick-Ass? Or Red Mist? little did Dave know or so you thought, you knew it was him all along..

a/n: uhh this is just a silly little imagine.. no one is probably going to see this post anyway but i’m new to this so this isn’t really the best thing i wrote, i hope u still enjoy reading this LOL i’ve also added my OC named Melilah who will be your best friend in this, um slight nsfw mention near the end but no actual action, thats it i think! yeah that’s it, happy reading :)

(pairing: dave lizewski x fem!reader) link to pt. 2

word count: 1.5k

It was a normal day, going to school, attending your classes, eating lunch, procrastinating your school works, submitting homework… attending more classes… rinse and repeat. But today was not what you expected, like.. at all.

ring ring… ring ring… you pick up your ringing phone while walking down the street, on your way to the convenience store.

“hello.?” your voice turns out more tired and groggier than you expected “hey when are you getting home sweetie? the food is getting cold and its already almost 6:30 pm, where are you?” your mom says with a worried voice, you could already imagine her face by just hearing her voice

this week has probably been one of the most stressful weeks of your entire life, class has been giving more school works, more due dates, you probably see your life flashing before your eyes right now “um yeah i’m on the way home already, don’t worry mom!” you say attempting to make your voice sound enthusiastic “well you better not be hanging out with that pretty boy.. actually maybe you should invite him for dinne-”

“mom— i—“ you cut her off but then you sigh giving up to even explain. “…he’s just a friend i swear..”

this supposedly ‘pretty boy’ your mom is referring to is Dave Lizewski, this guy in your class who you were paired up to work on a major project so he’s been at your house a few times already. surprisingly you get along with him really well? you’ve even become a part of his friend group including your best friend Melilah. She always points out the fact he always stares at you whenever you all hang out in Atomic Comics and during classes, but you’ve never really thought about him that way, or maybe you were considering it?

while walking down the road the street lights flicker a bit and you see someone trying to hanging onto the ledge of a billboard of some sort. you hear the figure shout at the cat sitting, waiting for him to fall “FUCK YOU MR BITEY!” his voice echoes, but wait.. why does his voice sound so familiar…? “okay okay okay, but call me and update me on where you are okay? be here quick, i love you!” your mom says- *THUD* you quickly look at the direction where the person, you assume, fell “UH yeah i’ll call you! i love you mom, BYE!” you say hastily, almost whispering.

beeeep.. beeeep.. you hang up the phone call, quickly putting your phone back in your messenger bag and hide behind a car. you spot a green figure, uh, “what in the world is that…” you think to yourself. the figure is wearing a weird.. cosplay suit.. it’s almost as if he looks like a green condo-

your thoughts are interrupted as he storms off looking frustrated, most probably because of the cat he couldn’t save.. he walks hurriedly into the dark alley. for some what reason you felt a little curious, just a little bit. so you go and follow the ‘super hero’, “this is so stupid.. someone remind me why I’m doing this to myself?” you whisper to yourself as you hide behind a pole, (you think this helps you stay hidden but you should’ve seen dave’s face when he saw you) trying to get a peek at the stranger. he takes off his mask angrily, you watch his curls fall into place, there are some scratches on his face from the fall, “damn why does he look so fine” you say in your thoughts and then you realize.

those are the blue eyes you see everyday in school, THAT’S DAVE LIZEWSKI. you silently gasp covering your face. his eyes dart at your direction, he shudders at the sound of your noise then next thing you know you start running away like a cockroach flew at your direction “WAIT!” he shouts, good thing you ran quick enough so he probably didn’t see your face, key word: probably.. actually there was no reason to be running from him at all- but you just felt like it..? considering you’re still in your denial stage about your feelings for him, who wouldn’t? you open the door to your house and get in as fast as you could just in case he followed you. the tv is bright and the news displays the text in bold ‘SUPERHERO KICKASS SAVES THE DAY’ you stare at the tv in shock because that’s… how… he’s Dave..?

your mom pops out of the kitchen “hey your back home! i thought you were going to call me to update me where you were..- oh yeah that superhero… what’s his name? Kickass? apparently he stopped a bunch of guys yesterday who were trying to beat up another guy that was in front of a convenience store and a bunch of people saw it then recorded blah blah blah you get it” you just stare at the tv in shock. “hello…? earth to y/n?”

it’s been almost 2 days, you’ve been avoiding Dave, trying not to make eye contact with him, passing by him in the halls, not even acknowledging his presence, even avoiding the hangouts to Atomic Comics, despite the fact you still have to do a major project with him. you open your locker getting books out of your locker, “hey have you heard about those two new superheros? Kickass? and Red Mist?” Melilah questions and your eyes widen at the question, only being reminded of Dave “yeah- well- i think its kinda dangerous doing that you know? being a um.. a superhero? why are people even so into them nowadays?” you say hesitatingly “ugh you are such a buzz kill, anyways Todd and Marty invited us to hangout… in Atomic Comics…” she looks like she’s about to ask a question, but she hesitates “go on.. continue” you gesture her to reply “why are you like.. i don’t know avoiding Dave? we’ve all kind of noticed that you know and the tension is killing all of us..”

you close the locker door and bring her to an empty classroom, you say “okay i know this sounds a bit crazy but DAVE IS KICKASS.” she “pffts” at your statement then turns to look at your face again, “oh.. your being serious” she says “YES I’M BEING SERIOUS?? i was on my way to the convenience store right and Kickass or Dave- i don’t know anymore was trying to save this cat then falls from this thing- anyways he walked in the alleyway so i was like ok i’ll just follow him! what could possibly happen!? then he took off his MASK SO THEN I RAN AWAY AND HE WAS LIKE ‘wait!🤪’ BUT I KEPT ON-” Melilah tries to comprehend everything, slowly nodding… slowly.. she whispers loudly “OKAY KEEP IT DOWN SOMEONE MIGHT HEAR YOU, okay so are you SURE this was Dave?” still whispering

“a HUNDRED percent.” you say trying to defend that you weren’t just seeing things

she sighs “well what are we going to do? I already told them we were going to be there..”

“you said WHAT?”

“okay okay chill they didn’t say Dave was coming, they obviously noticed how awkward it was with you guys so why would they invite him right haha.. haha…..” she laughs nervously

after both of you gather your thoughts you find yourself already settling down in a booth, in Atomic Comics, contemplating your life decisions. fidgeting nervously already imagining what’s going to happen. hoping not to see him. Melilah comes back after gathering a bunch of comic books to read while waiting for them to arrive. “hey stop fidgeting your going to be fine, plus he doesn’t know you know. right…?” you both just stare at each other. you both start praying in unison—“lord give us the strength to-“

“give you guys the strength for what?” Todd interrupts, you look behind him frantically to check whether Dave was there or not. to your surprise, he wasn’t. does he know? did he see my face when i ran? what if he doesn’t like me anymore? wait. why did that even matter? Todd and Marty took a seat beside Melilah leaving you alone sitting at the other side of the booth, obviously planning something.. “guys what do you think of Kickass?” Melilah asks, you kick her leg from under the table making a face screaming WHYAREYOUBRINGINGHIMUP. in fairness the both of you didn’t know whether Todd and Marty knew about it too, you shoot a glance at her giving a ohhhhiunderstandnow look to what she’s doing (spoiler alert: you've got the wrong idea, she was in fact not helping you) “i think he’s fine i guess, to be honest Red Mist is way cooler though because of his cape and all..” Marty says with Todd nodding his head to show that he agrees

“well- for one i think Kickass is wayy cuter, i’d fuck his brains out if i got the chance.” you say out of your thoughts completely regretting saying the said statement- “Really?” Dave says out of nowhere observing the conversation from behind your booth, making you jolt “y/n that just came out of nowhere what in the world.” Melilah says right after staring at you for a few seconds while Dave is making eye contact with you, smirking like he knows something. the conversation falls quiet.. real quiet… “okay wrap it up you two.” Todd interrupts, i wonder what happens next?

a/n: and the rest is history, I hope this was good enough lolol hope you enjoyed reading! (pt. 2 coming soon)

#Spotify #dave lizewski imagine #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski #dave lizewski oneshot #kick ass imagine #kick ass one shot #kick ass x reader #aaron taylor johnson #gif not mine #kick ass #aaron taylor johnson x reader #im only realizing now that this imagine is so ass omfg #meiiie imagines

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lethalchiralium · 8 months

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hiiiii!! first off, I absolutely love all your content. The way you write is just *chefs kiss* 🤌

would you consider writing what it was like for reader when mellie was born? being in the hospital alone, crying out for Simon even though she knew he couldn't be there. Feeling like she couldn't do it without him. that had to be so so difficult for her. I'd love to see your thoughts on it. 🩷🩷

- 🧀

cheese anon you wound me 😭

happiness canon 🥺🫶

warnings: mentions of labor and birth!

“It’s okay, Mama’s okay, Winnie.”

Your daughter sat beside you on your bed, the last day she’d ever be an only child, the last day she would be your only daughter. Your hands gently petted her curls, her eyes were full of worry for you.

“I’m so proud of you. You called for help and got me help,” Your hand gently held her cheek. “You are so good. Roach is gonna take you to go to sit and wait, okay?”

Your husband’s friend stood quietly a few feet away - he was the only contact of Simon’s you had since he used to babysit Winnie for you when you had emergencies back home. He was nice and very apologetic that even he couldn’t get in contact with anyone from the 141, let alone Simon.

Winnie leaned forwards and kissed your face, you kissed her cheek back as your right hand clenched onto the blankets beside you - you could feel the start of another contraction.

“Go. Be good for me.”

“Okay, Mama.”

Roach scooped up the four year old, he gave you a smile before carrying your daughter away - now you were alone. No one you loved could be here in time, and the most important one didn’t even know you were pregnant, let alone laboring and delivering alone. Your parents were stuck in Maine for another day due to a bad storm, your oldest brother Jake was deployed, and your two younger brothers, Tommy and Dave, were too young to travel by themselves. You had no one, but you had assumed you would the entire pregnancy. The only person who came through was a friend of your husband, but you needed Winnie to be safe before you needed support. As soon as they were out the door, you called out for your husband, a weary voice mumbling, “Simon, Simon, Simon…”

Heart beating out of your chest, another wave of intense pain ripped through your stomach, hands gripping onto the handles of the hospital bed as you let out a yell; the nurses that bustled around your room didn’t even bat an eye. One of them instantly came to your side, holding your phone which you had given her an hour ago. She gave you a sorrowful look.

“I’m sorry, he still didn’t answer.”

You nodded, still gripping the handles of the bed and trying to breathe.

You can do this. You can do this. Do it. You’ll be okay.

Fear had been written into your entire body with fire, burning the underside of your skin with every move you’ve made for the past however many hours you had been in the hospital. The harsh light, the ice chips, the IV that always seemed to go off whenever you finally got some sleep - it all made you feel uncomfortable. You weren’t ready. You wouldn’t be ready until Simon appeared by your side, taking your hand and telling you everything would be alright - but he wasn’t coming.

The nurse took your hand from the handles of the bed, squeezing it with her own and she smiled at you. “It’s okay. I’ll be here the whole time, whatever you need. Let’s meet this baby, yeah?”

You cried when she said that.

“I can do this.” You spoke quietly.

She nodded. “You can do this. We’ve got you.”

•••

Your phone was left on the side table, quiet. Your newborn was just placed on your chest after she had her checks, wrapped in a small blanket. You hadn’t even seen her eyes yet, her cries has quieted as she pressed her little baby face into your collarbone with a mere squeak.

Your arm held her up, your free hand smoothed out the small H/C strands on her head. Your fingertip traced the shape of her eyebrows, the apple of her tiny cheek, her button nose - there was no mistake that your daughter looked like her father. It made you smile.

“Hi Melody. I’m your mom.”

She cooed as you gently tapped her nose, your nurse gently cleared her throat. You didn’t even look away from your beautiful baby.

“Melody Riley.”

“No middle name?” The nurse asked from the bassinet, writing your daughter’s name onto the paper placard.

You shook your head quietly, admiring the little human you made. The way her skin was warm and soft, a comforting weight on your chest as you memorized her little face. Her little eyelids squeezed together as she sneezed, you almost muttered a ‘Bless you’ if it wasn’t for her opening her eyes. They looked exactly like Simon’s, and it made you smile.

“Not yet, my husband gets to name her too.”

the happiness asks give me life fr fr

#happiness series #lethalchiralium #lethal chiralium #🧀 anon #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x wife!reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x wife!reader #simon riley x f!reader

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dcangel · 7 months

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MY SMUTTY WRITING PROMPTS

I have a shit tone of smut prompts, so feel free to request any numbers for any of following characters: stiles Stilinski, Thomas (TMR), Dave Hodgman, Joel Dawson, Void Stiles, Stuart Twombly, Mitch Rapp, Simon Tarnum, Colin. I literally got pretty much done with this and was abt to post it bc I made the collage at the end and everything AND I FUCKING FORGOT ABOUT COLIN

As you can tell it’s all Dylan’s characters, and these are going to be the main people I write for. I don’t want to write about dylan himself as of right now bc I feel like it’s like sjrkrfk but yeah.

Anyways… there turned out to be 77 total prompts FOR THE SMUT ONES ALONE which is.. yeah

But I do have more than just smut prompts, I have some normal ones and I’ll make another post abt those.

RULES!! Idgaf how old you are as long as your 16+, I only write for fem!readers, and idk what else to add but like the basic rules yk? You can request more than just the prompts such as like sub!reader or sub!character (same for dom), or like maybe a specific kink if I feel comfortable writing for it like a nickname or just something else. You also don’t have to choose from one of these, you could just give me a request, and it also doesn’t even have to be smut. I’m always happy to hear your ideas and randomly thoughts<33

Anywayss…

SMUT PROMPTS—

1. “I want to hear you beg.”

2."Arch your back for me.”

3."You look better with my hands around your neck."

4."Swallow it. All of it."

5."God, you feel so fucking good."

6."Suck on it"

7."You're so fucking hot."

8."Open your legs for me, baby. I wanna see you."

9. “Don’t hold back.”

10. "Ah, fuck.”

11. "That noise...keep making it."

12. "Wrap your legs around my waist."

13. "Let's make this quick."

14. "Don't close your eyes, angel. Look at me"

15. "You're mine."

16. "Such a good little (slut/good boy, good girl), aren't you?"

17. "faster-ah shit-harder”

19. “I wanna go again."

20."I want you. I need you."

21.“Huh...uh...keep going."

22."Wait-uh-do...do that again."

23."Mark me. Mark me so everyone knows who I belong to."

24."Don't be gentle with me-I like it when you're rough."

25."One more time! Please!"

26. "Fuck-uh! I love it when you touch me like that."

26."kiss me again, but- mphh"

27. "lay down, love and let me do you how you deserve it."

28. “You can suck better than that, angel… don’t piss me off, alright?”

29. “Don’t muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”

30. "We'll take it slow."

31. "I've never done this before..” "Well, neither have I."

32."I'll take care of you."

33. "Tell me what you like."

34. "Tell me if it feels good."

35. "We can stop anytime."

36. "Do you trust me?"

37. "I've been wondering what it feels like…”

38. "I think l'm ready (for this/to have sex/...)."

39. "Please be gentle…”

40. "This is going a bit too fast…”

41. “I can’t believe you’re this innocent.”

42. "Makes me want to wreck you."

43. "You've never even touched yourself?"

44. "Show me how you do it when you touch yourself.”

45. "What do you like?" - "I don't know." - "Then how about we find out together?"

46. "It's my first time…”

47. “I can't wait to ruin your innocence"

48. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

49. "It's not a big deal. Let's just get it over with?

50. "I want you to be my first."

51. "I want you to teach me."

52. "Teach me how to make you feel good.”

53. "I wanna touch you too."

54. "Show me how to touch you."

55. "Am I going too fast?"

56. "You're doing so good for me.”

57. "Do that again."

58. "I never thought you could make such sweet noises." - "Me neither. "

59. "It's not scary at all. Let me show you.”

60."I'm worried I won't be good enough."

61. "Is it going to hurt?"

62. "I won't hurt you."

63. "I'm really embarrassed about this...”

64. "No need to worry."

65. "I got you."

66. “Kiss me?”

67. "Will you be my first?"

68. "Will you let me be your first?"

69. "I have no idea how to go about this "

70. "(If you like it), we can go all night."

71. "So (hard/wet) already…?”

72. "Are you sure this is your first time?"

73. "What do you want me to do?"

74. "Is this okay?"

75. "Does it feel good?”

76. "Tell me what to do."

77. "I'll guide you."

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spenceswife · 5 months

Text

I can’t tell you 2/2

oh wow guys this is embarrassing… I’ve been in a bad writing block for like months now. And I felt really bad for not finishing this part 2 bc I hate when ppl do that to me so I hope you enjoy 😭 (it’s rushed but i’m trying to get started again)

Dave Lizewski x Black!Plus Size Reader

Pt. 1- https://www.tumblr.com/spenceswife/712542712672452608/i-cant-tell-you-12

The gym door slammed loudly as Dave watched Yn storm out the gymnasium.

His chest tightened as he thought over their conversation. How could she think he was cheating?

But could he blame her? The scene was… misleading.

Dave shook his head while combing through his curly hair anxiously. He had to make it right.

It had been 3 days since Yn spoke to Dave. He texted her everyday and tried to get her attention in school but she constantly blew him off like he did to her previously.

His friends wondered why they didn’t see the touchy couple together anymore so they decided to confront Dave and the comic shop.

When the bell rang hinting someone entered Dave found his group at their normal table arguing about something.

“Hey guys” Dave spoke swinging his backpack in the booth.

“You look like shit.” Marty spoke making Todd slap his chest.

“Wrong approach but he’s right. What’s wrong with you dude” Todd crossed his arms ready to listen.

“Yn thinks I cheated on her…” they both look at each other surprised.

“Well did you?” Marty asked in shock

“Hell no! I love her with all my heart I could never. It was really a misunderstanding I just can’t say what.” he took a breathy sigh clearly in distress.

“I mean I believe you dude, but that’s some sketchy shit. I don’t know she’ll forgive you.” Todd furrowed his brows.

“How about this you know Jessica?” Marty raised his brows with a smirk

“Yeah why…” Dave asked more confused

“Well she’s at Yn studying and gonna meet me here in about 30. So how about you trap your girl and apologize the right way.” Lizewski stared his friend down thinking of the idea.

“… I have nothing else to choose from so fine. Wish me luck” He grabbed his bag standing up accidentally bumping into a counter while walking towards the door.

Dave snuck through her window, luckily she had a fire escape so it was easy for him to enter.

She wasn’t in her room but her bathroom light was on meaning she was still home.

He passed shortly back n forth thinking about what he wanted to say until he heard a voice breaking through.

“Why are you here Dave?” Yn walked towards her bed sitting not even looking him in the eye.

But Dave couldn’t help but stare he missed seeing her like this. Comfy.

She was wearing a long shirt and shorts with her curls going every direction. She looked perfect to him

“Look please listen to me. I would never hurt you and that includes never cheating. I love you so much and I would love to tell the reason of what you heard, but I just can’t right now it’s too dangerous. I’ll tell you eventually but I just have to figure this out first I promise i’d never hurt you intentionally baby please…” Yn saw the glint in Dave’s eye that he was telling the truth.

And she didn’t see the nervous tic he does when he lies so she caved and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He closed his eyes thanking the angles above for giving his own back.

“You’d never hurt me?” Yn whispered playing with his loose curls as her face was stuck between his neck and shoulder.

“Never in my life, you’re the one I protect the most. Literally…” her face scrunched at the last part but quickly forgot about it as she was happy he was in her presence.

#fluff #angst #imagines #dave lizewski x reader #black plus size reader #plus size reader #dave lizewski imagine #Dave lizewski x black reader #kick ass

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moonlightspencie · 5 months

Text

locked it down

part 12 of ‘the sweetest con’

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: the last part before the epilogue!

Six months.

Six months of being together. Laughing together. Being happy together.

Six months that signified something: I had to report our relationship to the bureau.

It was a terrifying ordeal, to put it lightly. I didn’t get fired, which had me thankful beyond belief, but I did get a scolding and a temporary suspension for not notifying them of such sooner. And a threat that she might have to move to a new unit. But, after much convincing from her, we decided that anything was worth it if we were together.

And it was so worth it.

Half a year doesn’t feel like a lot in the grand scheme of things, but it felt like everything with her. Plus, we finally got to officially tell the entire team, and of course, they were thrilled beyond belief.

Dave insisted that we all go to his house for dinner to celebrate our milestone, and despite my protests, she gave an emphatic ‘yes’ for both of us. We sat around the dining room table, talking about anything and everything that didn’t have to do with work. It felt like one of those times I knew I was in trouble with her in the beginning. But this time, I didn’t have to pretend that I wasn’t hopelessly head-over-heels for her. Cheers erupted from the team anytime we showed any affection towards each other, much to her delight. She adored the sweet attention we were getting from our friends, and part of me couldn’t help but smile along with her every time she brightened up at their comments.

“Told you this would work out fine,” she whispered to me at the table, glancing around at everyone.

They were currently preoccupied with the news of Reid taking somebody on a date, taking the pressure and attention off of the two of us. I smiled down at her, not bothering to hide it.

“You’ve proved me wrong once again,” I say, huffing a dramatic sigh playfully. “You’ve got to stop being right about everything. It’s not fair.”

“I was born to be a genius, what can I say?” she said with a cheeky smile. “You love it anyways.”

“Mm. I don’t know about that,” I start with a quirked brow. “But I do love you.”

“Even better,” she whispered, leaning into me.

I couldn’t help but smile as she kissed me softly, letting it linger a bit longer than she had the rest of the night considering nobody was looking at us. Or so we thought.

“You two are so sweet,” Penelope gushed, trying to keep her voice down as she grinned at us. “I’m so happy you’re together. I’ve never seen either of you look so happy.”

I saw her smile at Garcia’s words, leaning her head against my shoulder.

I hummed. “I got very lucky.”

We finished dinner a couple of hours later, and of course, Dave had to make a point to pull out some expensive bottle of wine as we sat in the living room.

He held up his glass. “To our two favorite lovebirds. Now, we don’t all have to pretend we don’t see them staring at each other like they want rip one another's clothes off.”

She snorted a laugh next to me. “Oh, please. At work? I’d never.”

We all laughed at her comment, my cheeks flushing a little, and then drank to our apparent good fortune. I listened in as the team chatted for another couple of hours, content to only sprinkle in a comment here or there.

She leaned into me eventually. “Did you ever think we’d be here a few years ago?”

I laughed. “No. I didn’t think we’d be here this time last year. I’m still trying to figure out why you fell for me, of all people.”

She fell quiet, merely smiling at me for a few moments, staring at me with those pretty, sparkling eyes of hers. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” she said at last, voice quiet. “I couldn’t imagine not falling for you. I’m just happy you felt the same way.”

I hummed another small laugh, kissing her. I couldn’t hold back anymore. We only broke apart when she started laughing at the cheers that once again erupted from the group.

We went back to my apartment that night, hand in hand as we walked up the stairs together.

“I’m so happy we finally told them,” she said as I pulled my keys out.

I got the key in the door, opening it for her and disarming the alarm. I tossed down my keys and jacket.

“Yeah. So glad they get to relentlessly make fun of us,” I replied.

She laugh, walking up to me and putting her arms around my neck.

“You love it and you know it,” she said, a soft kiss on my lips between words. “They make fun because they care. And you adore all of them for it. You can’t hide that from me.”

I shook my head with a lovesick smile, leaning in to kiss her once again, then took her hand to lead her to the couch.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She raised her brows, sitting next to me. “Uh oh.”

“Stop it,” I said softly with a smile. “I… Well, we’ve been together for a while. I love you, you know that. And I love spending all my time with you, but sometimes that’s hard when we live so far apart.”

“My apartment is like fifteen minutes away on a busy day,” she laughed.

“Too far,” I deadpanned. “I just— If I asked you to move in with me, would you think I was totally insane?”

Her small grin turned into a full smile. “Yeah?”

I smiled back, nodding. “Yeah. I get more time with you, and… Honestly, I’ve already mentioned it to Jack and he loves the idea of having more sleepovers with you. Don’t want to disappoint him, now, do we?”

“Oh, definitely not,” she shook her head seriously, hiding a smile. “I almost have to now, don’t I? If Jack says I should.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

She smiled again, tackling me onto the couch cushions with a tight hug. I laugh as she started pressing soft kisses all over my face.

“I love you. You know that?” she asked.

I nodded. “I know.”

She stared at me for another moment, then kissed me once more for good measure.

“I’m serious, though, Jack is expected a sleepover every night that he’s home with us.”

She raised a brow. “Guess I should move in pretty fast then, huh?”

“If we don't want to face his wrath, yes. I’d recommend it.”

“It’s a good thing we have the day off tomorrow, then, isn’t it?”

I smiled. “Yeah. Great coincidence.”

She narrowed her eyes playfully. “What if I had said no?”

“I knew you’d say yes.”

“How?”

I smirked at her, quiet for a moment before I reigned in the smile to look at her seriously.

“I’m a really great profiler.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner reader insert #aaron hotchner fanfic #the sweetest con #criminal minds

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dumblilb · 1 year

Text

Screw Up *ೃ༄

Kurt Cobain x reader

(He thinks he messed up a performance and you reassure him he’s perfect)

(Warnings: cursing, angst, depression, dark feelings, fluff at the end)

(Words: 701)

*ೃ༄ ࿐ *ೃ༄ ࿐ *ೃ༄ ࿐

I could tell the second the show had ended he wasn’t happy. You could see the glint in his eyes die out as he finished the song. As he got off the stage he didn’t reach for my hands as he usually does.

We get into the van krist sitting in the passenger seat as I sat in between Kurt and Dave. Kurt turned slightly away from us hiding his his face in his hair.

We pull up and head into the small room we are sharing during this stop on tour.

The almost indecifrabile sound of his whimpers are heard as he opens the door and shuts it behind him.

“He’s not doing well is he.” Krist sighs.

“We should check on him.” Dave says about to reach for the door handle.

“No, he needs a minute.” I say stopping him.

“But y/n…”

“Just let me handle it and I’ll pay for your weed addiction this week.” I say and they raise an eyebrow to each other.

“Okay fine we’re gonna go grab a pizza, we’ll be back.” Krist says and they walk back out. I take a deep breath and reach for the handle.

“Kurt…..? Are you okay?” I say and he looks up from his lap. His slouched posture straightening at the sound of my voice.

“Yeah, I’m doing fine.” He chokes out running a hand over his face. I sigh and sit down next to him on the bed.

“It’s okay to not be okay, you know that right?”

“Yeah I guess, it’s just…. I fucked it up and I feel bad. Like it was the last song of the night and I fucking messed up.” He says with a weak voice as he leans his head on my shoulder. The light scruff on his face itching my skin.

But it didn’t matter.

The way his soft blue eyes fluttered in an almost sleepy manner as he nestled into me made everything feel like maybe it’ll be okay.

“I didn’t even notice, if it makes you feel any better.”

“Yeah a little, I guess, I just feel like recently I can’t do anything right.” He says softly yawning.

“I’ll never understand why you feel this way about yourself. You are the most beautiful, talented and kind man I have ever met. I wish you could see yourself the way I do.” I whisper realizing the silence in the room made everything feel so loud.

I turned towards him as he lifted his head from my shoulder, resting it on my forehead. His lips quivering as his eyes well up.

“I just don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He sobs. His hands ending up in his hair, till I grab them in mine, and rub them softly.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” I reassure, letting him let it out for a little bit. He leans into my chest as I hold him tightly.

“Do you ever wish you could escape. Like just be completely happy for a day. I never know if I’m happy.”

“You know how I know when I’m happy?”

“How?”

“When I’m with you. I always know I’ll be okay when I’m with you.” I smile softly to him and I feel him lean into me more.

“I feel okay when I’m with you.” He whispers, and as it gets farther into the morning he drifts asleep. My fingers raking through his hair as he dreams in my arms.

The guys came back to the room later that night pigging out on pizza as we slept.

As the sun shines through the dingy curtains, and the once heavy feeling on my chest is gone, I open my eyes and look up to see Kurt. Sitting with bed head, holding a journal and pen. He was humming a melody I had never heard before as he scribbled words down.

“What are you writing, can I hear it?” I ask softly as the boys snore loudly on the other bed. He looks over to me with a soft smile.

“Not now, this is for another day.”

“Can I ask what it’s about?”

“You.” He grins. “You make me feel less dumb.”

#Spotify #kurt cobain #nirvana #dave grohl #kurt cobain x reader #nirvana x reader #dumb #dumb nirvana

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sirianasims · 2 months

Text

After the main course, Paul went to the kitchen to get the dessert ready before midnight. I excused myself and said I needed some fresh air.

I had been to Del Sol Valley a few times when I was little, visiting my grandparents, but I didn’t remember much about the city itself.

The back of Paul’s mansion was the only thing not surrounded by fences, and the view was both breathtaking and terrifying. Bright lights as far as the eye could see, occasional premature fireworks going off, faint background noise from traffic that never stopped.

It felt like we were gilded birds in a cage up here, always on display yet forever out of reach.

I couldn’t imagine anything further from Copperdale and the quiet, snow-covered forests around it.

I wondered if Paul would expect me to move in with him at some point. I didn’t see how he’d be able to work from anywhere else. I could work wherever, but could I live here? Surrounded by fences and cameras and security guards in a huge, empty house?

I pushed the thought away as I heard the clacking of heels behind me.

“Julia, can I talk to you for a moment?”, Sierra asked softly. “I would really like to apologise for what I said earlier. It was never my intention to insult you.”

“I know you didn’t mean it like that, but I still can’t help feeling that you don’t like me very much. Or maybe you just don’t think I’m good enough for Paul?”

Sierra bit her lip.

“I shouldn’t have brought up his exes, especially not in front of you. The thing is, they rarely lasted long enough for the media to catch on – half the time I didn’t even get to meet them before he ended things. So when Paul first told us about you, I got worried. I saw him falling harder and faster than ever before, but you’re so much younger than him and I was struggling to see how it could possibly end well.”

“Right. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m just being honest with you. I tend to be, perhaps, overly protective of Paul. He was even younger than you when we met, we shared a shitty apartment with a few other aspiring actors, all trying to break through. We cheered each other on, audition after audition, practicing lines, commiserating over rejection letters… And then he got the call for Llama Man, and I ended up as an extra in a cop series which later got me the lead in Cop & Llama, but I’ve fought hard to escape that, branch out to other roles, and Paul just… didn’t even try.”

“But he says he prefers the voice acting, though. If you’re his friend, why do you keep pushing him if he’s perfectly happy?”

“Because I’m his friend. Sure, he says he’s happy. Maybe he even believes it. But Paul was always the best of us, and he never took his talent seriously. He’s a great voice actor, but it always felt like he secretly wanted more, he’s just scared. What if he sucked? The media would have a field day, writing about how he should just stick to his cartoons. You’ve seen what they’re like, you just had your first front page. Which, by the way, must be rough. I’m sorry for adding to the stress you must be under right now. Can we maybe start over?”

“Apology accepted, I’m too much of a fangirl to be mad at you anyway. And I’m managing, but I must say, being on the cover of a magazine is a lot less fun than advertised.”

“Trust me, it depends heavily on the kind of magazine. But being hung out to dry by some gossip rag is a rite of passage in this business. You should have seen the frenzy when rumours about me and Dave started circulating. It was wild. I once walked out of an interview because they asked me if the llama costume stayed on during sex!”

“Well? Did it ever?”

Sierra grinned.

“No way – do you have any idea how heavy and warm that costume is? It’s not exactly a sexy superhero muscle suit, it’s a full size sports mascot.”

“True. Although I’m not sure I’d appreciate it if Paul kept his costume on either.”

We both laughed, and I barely registered the steps behind me before I felt Pauls arms around me, his warm hands covering my eyes.

“Guess who.”

I heard Sierra chuckle. “Actually, Paul, we were kinda busy out here, bonding over the trials of dating men in llama costumes. It’s a very exclusive club.”

“I guess Dave and I have to start our own club then. But it's almost midnight and I would like to borrow my girlfriend, if you don’t mind.”

“Fine, you can have her back. I’ll just go get myself one of those fruit tarts before Lee and Dave eat them all.”

She walked back inside without waiting for a response.

She wouldn’t have gotten one anyway.

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen5 #julia duchelli #paul romeo #sierra moss

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midnightstar-90 · 1 year

Note

Hey I was wondering if you cloud do a black!reader x Dave Lizewski or Todd Haynes I haven't really seen much of blackreader fics with them

Like a Princess

Todd Haynes x Black! Fem! Reader

Taglist | Request | Wattpad

Main Masterlist | Other Actors/Characters Masterlist

Summary: After Y/N’s birthday is ruined, Todd comes over, making the girl feel better. He ends up doing her hair and a little more.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of Alcohol, Todd has a hair pulling kink (But NO Smut, Just Making Out)

A/N: I’ve never been good with writing stuff like kissing, so I’m sorry if this is terrible.

Words: 2.8K words

A girl’s 16th birthday is one of the most special times in a girl's life. Not only is she celebrating 16 years of her life, but she’s also aging into a new form of maturity. And for Y/N, that form of maturity was getting her license. She had been studying for months, and her father promised her a car fit for a princess on her birthday.

“So, what are you doing for your birthday, Y/N?” Y/N’s friend, Todd, asked.

“Mom said we could go to the Cheesecake Factory for my birthday. She said I could invite you all, also,” Y/N replied.

“Sick.”

“Sounds cool.”

“That sounds fun,” Todd, Marty, and Dave said simultaneously.

Y/N clapped her hands in excitement. “Yay! Okay, I’ll tell my mom that you all are all down to go,” She said with a wide grin. The boys all smiled at the girl as they watched their friend practically dance down the hallway. But something else, besides happiness, lit up inside of Todd. Something that made him want to protect the girl at all costs, but he didn’t know what.

Y/N’s birthday had barely started before a female voice, that she recognized as her mother’s, yelled through the house. “Y/F/N (Your Father’s Name), get your ass down these steps right now,” She yelled. It took a second before the sound of her father’s slow and tired steps made its way out of her parents' shared room and down the steps, just as her mother ordered.

Y/N watched her father through the crack of her door, noticing her father’s posture wasn’t straight and confident like it usually was. It was tense as if he were in pain. And he stumbled when he walked. Y/N frowned, knowing that this would only lead to disaster.

When her father got downstairs, all she could hear was the anger in her mother’s voice. “Where were you last night?” Y/M/N (Your Mother’s Name) asked Y/F/N. All she could hear from her father was some slurred mumbles.

“This is not the first time, Y/F/N. You keep doing this,” She cried.

Y/N didn’t know what was going on. But she did know that whatever was happening had to do with her father coming home late at night. Not wanting to ruin her delightful mood that came with her birthday, Y/N closed her door, not wanting to hear her parents argue.

But her time to herself was cut short when a loud, “What?” from her mother and a loud bang was heard through the floor. Y/N raced downstairs, but stayed hidden.

“Y/F/N, it’s her birthday. How could you do this to her?” Y/N heard her mother ask her father. Y/N looked down with mixed feelings of confusion and sadness. ‘What could my father have done to hurt me?’ She asked herself.

“Mom? Dad?” Y/N spoke, leaving her hiding spot.

When Y/M/N saw you walk in, her face lit up with a smile, as if nothing happened. But by the looks in her eyes, she could tell that something was wrong.

“Y/N, dear, what are you doing down here, I thought you were getting ready for your party,” Y/M/N said in a caring tone. A tone that wasn’t expressed just a second ago.

“I heard a loud noise and yelling. I was just making sure everything was okay,” Y/N told her mother with a nervous smile. She looked between her father and mother. Her father stayed slumped over the counter with a shameful look, and her mother stood straight as a pencil with a smile big enough to hid a lie.

But her mothers smile didn’t hold for long. As Y/N spoke, her smile slowly began to fade into a frown. “Actually, Honey, we have something to tell you,” Her mother uttered.

Nervous, Y/N slowly stepped towards her parents. When she stood between her parents her mother began to speak again. “Honey, your father is an alcoholic,” Y/M/N said, hating that she had to say those words. She never wanted her daughter to think any less of her father, but now it was coming to affect her too. “And he has been for awhile.” Y/F/N looked away, disappointed in himself.

Y/N looked over at her father with a sad look. “Dad?” She whispered quietly. When he didn’t say anything, she walked over to him and gave him a hug. He still looked away from the girl as he softly pushed Y/N off of him. “I spent all the money I had saved up for your car, and some of our money for the bills,” He softly spoke, closing his eye as to not cry.

Y/N looked at her father in shock. “What?” Her voice cracked as she questioned her father. “But you promised me,” She said as stray tears began to roll down her face. Y/M/N looked away from her daught, unable to look at her daughter while she was in pain.

“I’m sorry,” Her father mumbled.

Y/N shook her head with angry tears now streaming down her face. “No,” she whispered. “No, you aren’t sorry, because if you were, you won’t have done it. You made your choice. You chose alcohol over your own daughter.” And with that she was gone. Back upstairs to the only place she knew she could let herself go. “Happy fucking birthday to me,” She yelled out, slamming her door.

Y/F/N and Y/M/N looked at eachother, both crying. They didn’t know what to say or do to eachother, only that they disappointed their daughter on what should be a happy day.

An hour later, a knock at Y/N’s bedroom door appeared, signaling someone wanting to come in. Y/N lifted her head out of her pillow and said, “I don’t want to talk to you, dad.” Her face landed back into the pillow as someone walked in.

“Usually, I would make a joke about this, but I don’t think it’s the time for that,” Todd Joked, walking over to her bed.

“I told you guys not to come. The party is canceled,” Y/N mumbled into her pillow.

Todd sat next to Y/N on her bed as he looked down at her with a sad smile. Hesitantly, he moved his hand to her thick, nappy hair. He wasn’t sure if it was the right move, mostly because she had never let him touch her hair, but he didn’t care. He gently plowed his fingers through her soft hair, careful not to pull a knot.

“What happened?” He asked the girl, repeating the motion. He didn’t get a response from the girl. Instead, Y/N sat up, forcing Todd’s fingers out of her hair as she sat criss-crossed across from him.

She pushed the hair out of her face before she softly spoke, “My father is an alcoholic who spent all his money, including my ‘16th birthday’ car fund on booze.”

She looked down, burying her face in her hands. Todd looked away, contemplating on what to say. A few seconds go by before he begins to speak. “That sucks. But you shouldn’t let not getting a car ruin your birthday. Just because you didn’t get something you really wanted now doesn’t mean you won’t ever get it,” He said with a smile.

Y/N’s hands left her face as she let out a depressed sigh. Todd looked up at the girl, noticing how sad she looked. Dried tear stains ran down her face, her nostrils flared with every breath she took, and her full lips quivered as she cried.

Todd leaned over so he could wipe her face. “Stop crying. A princess should never cry on her birthday.” His words brought a smile to Y/N’s face as she slowly looked Todd in the eye. “How about a makeover?” Todd asked with a gleeful grin.

Y/N gave the boy an unsure look, “Mmm, I don’t know, Todd.”

“Come on. I’ve never done hair before, but that’s what the internet is for,” Todd said with a grin.

“I’ve never trusted anyone other than my mother and I with my hair. My hair can get difficult to manage.”

“Then you can guide me through it. Come on, Y/N. I just want you to feel better,” Todd begged.

Y/N contemplated Todd’s offer. On one hand, she had a friend who just wanted to distract her from the mess of a morning she had experienced today. But then there was the fact that that friend didn’t know anything about hair, let alone black girl hair. Y/N thought for another second before answering the brown-eyed boy.

“Mmm… Fine, you can give me a makeover,” She sighed. Todd’s fists flew through the air. “Yes!” He called out excitedly. His reaction made Y/N look at her friend as if he were crazy.

Catching her looks, he looked over at Y/N confused, and asked, “What?” She shrugged him off, as if nothing happened, and got up to get her hair products.

The first thing Y/N instructed Todd to do was wash her hair. That alone took an hour, leaving Y/N with a sour impression.

“Are you mad?” He asked as he and Y/N walked back into her room. She wore a towel on her head as she angrily turned toward the brown haired boy. “Y/N head is burning?” She spoke through her teeth.

“You told me to comb out your hair with the conditioner in,” He argued.

“Yeah, and you did, but you didn’t comb it as I told you to. I said comb from bottom to top. You did the exact opposite,” Y/N glared at the boy.

“How was I supposed to know?” Todd asked, dramatically throwing his arms through the air.

“Um, I don’t know- maybe the 1,500 times I yelled, “Ow”,” Y/N seethed through her teeth.

Todd took a deep breath before speaking to the girl once more. “Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t listen, but I promise the styling section will be much easier.”

Todd had lied when he said he’d be listen. It seemed that every time Y/N told him what comb to use, he would use the exact opposite of what she asked for. He aggressively went at the knots in her hair, but in the end it worked out fine.

Y/N decided to instruct Todd through a basic braid. She didn’t feel he was ready for anything more than that. And by the pain from the process, she felt as if she should have started with the classic high ponytail. But Todd didn’t do all bad.

Y/N stood in front of her mirror, admiring Todd’s work in the reflection. “I don’t know, Toddy. I’m conflicted,” she spoke as she looked at herself from all angles.

“Conflicted? For what?” Todd asked, confused. He sat on the girls bed, watching her with admiration.

“Letting you do my hair,” she replied with a scoff.

Todd looked at the dark-skinned girl, bewildered. He aggressively slapped his palm to his chest and grabbed it in pain. “Ouch!” Todd joked.

Y/N laughed at his antics before turning to face him. “You tried to kill me!” She exclaimed.

Todd was no longer focused on the conversation. He couldn’t help but block out everything but her laugh. It was a beautiful sound that allowed a peaceful sensation to wash through him, like the sounds of birds chirping in the morning.

“How would you like it if I tried to pull all your hair out at once?” Y/N spoke, walking towards the boy. Not listening, Todd nodded his head. It wasn’t until the girl went to grab his hair that he realized what she said. Leaning back, Todd shook his head frantically and yelled out, “Y/N? Y/N, no. Stop!” Y/N laughed as she pounced on the boy, causing the two to roll around, wrestling with each other as Y/N continued to grab Todd’s hair.

It only took about 3 minutes for Todd to tap out. Y/N sat on top of the boy, straddling his waist, and out of breath. Todd looked up at the girl, turned on by the situation.

Before today, Todd had always admired the girl from afar, scared she would reject him. But at this moment, Todd wasn’t scared. Taking a deep breath, his eyes scaled the girl’s body before going back up to her eyes. “You’re very pretty, Y/N,” Todd mumbled in a breath-less whisper. Y/N’s cheeks grew warm at Todd’s words. Todd noticed this before slowly leaning up, whispering into the girl's ear, “Is it bad that I want to kiss you?”

The room was quiet. While Todd waited for an answer, Y/N sat on top of the boy with her lips parted. She didn’t know what to say. She was speechless. Y/N looked down at the boy, noticing his brown eyes that glistened in the light of her lamp. Or the soft curls that rested on top of his head.

Y/N contemplated the boy’s words before resting one of her hands on the boy’s cheek. As she leaned down, her other hand rested against his side. Todd’s breath hitched at the thought of how close their lips were to each other. A second later, Y/N’s lips collided with his. Their lips slowly moved against the others.

The hand on Todd’s cheek moved up to grip his hair. When she gave his hair a light tug, she felt a moan against her lips. The girl smirked against the boy’s lips and did it again. Todd moaned once more, grabbing onto the girl's hips. Their kiss lasted for a few more seconds before the two pulled away. Both of them desperately gasped for air as they looked at each other with hungry eyes.

The two were about to go for round two when a loud knock came from Y/N’s door. Y/N quickly rolled off of Todd, clumsily falling onto the floor, before the door opened. Dave and Marty walked inside, looking between the two. Between Todd’s messy hair and red face and Y/N’s awkward position on the floor, the two couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“What’s going on,” Dave asked, confused.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” Y/N frantically asked. She stood up and straightened herself out.

Dave’s eyes scrunched at Y/N’s question, making him rebuttal with, “We did knock. And now that I’m standing here, I think we should have waited.” Marty stood behind Dave looking at Todd with an impressed smile.

Y/N saw this and scoffed. “Ya think,” she spoke, angrily.

“Okay, we're sensing some hostility. We were going to see if you maybe wanted to go out to eat, for your birthday. But since you’re going to act like this, we’ll just leave,” Dave said, turning to leave.

“Have fun, you two,” Marty added before leaving with Dave.

Y/N looked over at the curly haired boy, noticing that he was giving her a look that said that they should go with them. Y/N looked away with an annoyed sigh. “Fine, Dave, we’ll go!” She called out to the boys.

The two slowly backed into the girl’s room, giving her a smile that they knew would irritate her. They cupped their ears and turned so their ears faced the girl. “What was that?” They teased.

“We’ll go,” she said through her teeth.

“Okay then. Birthday girl, you get ready to go. Lover boy, you come with us,” Dave said, calling Todd over. Todd and Y/N looked at each other, knowing they would never live down this moment. Todd got up and left with the other boys.

Y/N watched as the door closed behind them before pulling a wide smile on her face. She went over to her closet, pulling out a baby pink babydoll top and light blue mom jeans. She put the clothes on and put on a silver chain her father gave her last year. Gripping the necklace, she moved it between her fingers, remembering the day her father gave it to her before going to put on some matching ankle strapped flats.

Y/N gave herself one last look in the mirror and left her room. “Ready to go,” Y/N said, leading the boys down the stairs.

“Wow, nice braid, Y/N,” Marty said. Even though she couldn’t see it she knew Todd was blushing at Y/N’s smile that appeared when Marty spoke. She was proud and he knew.

“Only the best for the princess,” Todd said with a smile as he went to open the door for the girl.

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janaispunk · 7 months

Text

only bought this dress so you could take it off

series masterlist • this is part I

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

a/n: I was on my summer vacation last week, and I’m suffering from severe Dave York brainrot lately, which inspired a vivid daydream of Dave taking me on a little trip and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I was planning to keep it a oneshot, but there are so many more ideas for this floating around in my head, so a part 2 miiight be happening. Please read the warnings, this one’s nasty! (it’s the murder daddy energy)

word count: ~10.4k (this was supposed to be a nice little pwp, idk what happened) (Dave was holding me at gun-point)

summary: You have been sleeping with Dave York for a few months, keeping things casual, when he suggests to go on vacation together. You’re not sure what to expect, but you agree, and Dave takes very good care of you.

warnings: bits of angst, dubious morality (Dave is cheating on his wife), kinda unhealthy relationship dynamics, age-gap implied, alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, Dave pulls her hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, rough sex, semi-public touching, sir kink, degradation kink, rough oral sex (m receiving), unprotected piv (reader is on bc in my head, but it’s not mentioned in the fic), dirty talk, Dave is a menace, spanking, choking, edging, spit kink, restraints, idiots in love, let me know if I missed any!

this is explicit 18+ content, minors do not interact pleaseeeee

Your phone starts buzzing on your work desk around 8 AM. You just got into the office and are starring at your monitor blankly, nursing a to-go cup of too expensive coffee and questioning your life choices. A regular Tuesday really.

You groan and flick your eyes down to your phone, your mind way too exhausted to deal with whoever is trying to contact you right now. You read the name on the screen and do a double take, your tiredness immediately forgotten. You hastily grab the device and press the green button to accept the call.

“Hey,” you say, trying your best not to sound just as eager as you suddenly feel. He doesn’t need to know the effect a simple call from him has on you.

“Good morning, sweetheart. What took you so long to answer, huh?” his voice sounds in your ear, calm and composed as always, but with a hint of teasing. You bite your lip, thankful that he can’t see how just hearing him speak has a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“S-sorry, just work and everything, you know?”

You can’t help the little sigh that you let out -work really has been a nightmare lately- and he chuckles sympathetically.

“You poor thing. Speaking of work, I actually have a favor to ask you.”

He knows fully well that he doesn’t need to ask you favors - you’d give him everything he wants, without question. His usual demanding tone is lacing his words and you involuntary clench your thighs together. God, you’re down so bad for this man.

This, as you need to keep reminding yourself, married man, who lives the perfect suburban life with his wife and their two kids. He’s not in love with you, you’re well aware of that, and you’re trying your hardest not to fall in love with him either.

You don’t know what exactly is going on between him and his wife and you don’t pry. He’s told you that things between them aren’t working out anymore and that they’ve agreed to stay together and play happy family until their girls are older. You’re not dumb, you know that this is the kind of story that every cheating man tells the other woman. And you’d probably call him out on his bullshit, if he were any other man. Hell, you wouldn’t have gotten involved with any other married man in the first place.

But Dave isn’t just any man and he’s got you wrapped around his finger ever since you met in a hotel bar a few months ago. You had just been stood up at said bar and Dave had been on a business trip, spending the night there. He came up to you, looking more handsome than any man should have the right to, bought you a drink and had you following him up to his room in the blink of an eye, which led to sex that was easily the best you had ever had.

Now, Dave calls you regularly, mostly when he’s close enough to meet up, but also some nights when he whispers filthy things into your ear until you come on your own fingers because he is too far away to put his hands on you.

You like to think that he cares about you, that you’re not just the willing means to an end and that you can actually give him something that he can’t get anywhere else. Something soft, a person that cares for him and gives him the chance to be soft as well. Because they exist, those moments of softness, in between tangled sheets and laughs shared in the darkness of your room, his fingers mindlessly dancing over your body when he thinks you’re already asleep and his lips pressed against yours a little too urgently when he’s saying goodbye to you.

But most of the time, Dave doesn’t like to care. He also doesn’t like to be soft. He’s ruthless, his edges sharp like a knife and he likes coming at you hard. He doesn’t tell you exactly what he does for a living, but you suspect that it’s dangerous and violent. He needs an outlet, somewhere he can let his aggressions run free, someone he can control.

This, you can definitely give him. You let him take it out on you when things get too much, you give up all control to him, and you love it. And he knows that you do. Sometimes you wonder if that’s the only reason he’s keeping you around, but you can’t bring yourself to believe it.

So, when your phone lights up with his name, you answer, trying to conceal your desperation to hear his voice, the hold he has on you, even if you’re fighting a losing battle. And when he’s asking for a favor, you hum questioningly, even though you already know that your answer will be “yes”.

“Take the next week off, and pack a bag. I’m having a few free days, so we’re going away for a bit, I’m picking you up on Saturday.”

He’s basically giving you an order, not stopping to ask if you’ve already got plans, if this might be a bad time, anything. Do this, be there, stat. Because he knows that you will do as he says and you know it, too.

Excitement bubbles up in you, the prospect of spending a whole week with Dave, something of a vacation, from what it sounds like, is more than you had ever allowed yourself to even daydream about. This is not what your relationship is about, it’s not what you do. Except that… apparently it is?

“I- okay, yes. That- that sounds great, Dave.” Your delight at his proposal is clear in your voice. “Where are we going? What do I need to pack? Do I need to prepare anything?”

He chuckles again and you can picture him shaking his head.

“No doll, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Just bring your passport and pack for warm weather. And, sweetheart?” His voice drops an octave and he’s basically purring in your ear. “The sluttier, the better.”

He hangs up without waiting for your answer. You’re left to spend the rest of your workday in a daze, your panties soaked and your head busy with already cataloguing your entire closet and which things you’ll pack.

The days pass you by in weird chunks of time. On one hand, you can’t wait for Saturday, while on the other hand, you feel terribly unprepared, causing anxiety to creep up on you several times throughout the week. Every vacation you’ve ever been on has been meticulously organized and planned out by yourself and the lack of knowledge that you’re dealing with right now is entirely foreign to you.

What if you need a certain vaccine for wherever you’re going and you don’t have it? What if the flight has an early check-in that you need to take care of? Has Dave booked a hotel? How are the reviews? What do you need to prepare for?

The nervous urge to be ready for every kind of situation that you can’t satisfy right now is threatening to drive you crazy and you need to remind yourself more than once that this is Dave that you’re dealing with. Not one of your ex-boyfriends that would’ve come up with some half-assed plan that lacked in several vital points and required you to take care of things yourself eventually.

Dave is even more thorough than you, he doesn’t leave anything up to chance and he doesn’t forget things. You’re still reeling from the mere fact that he’s planning to take you away for a whole week. You’ve never spent that much uninterrupted time together and you honestly hadn’t thought that he would want to. This is couple stuff. And you’re not a couple. You’re just someone he sleeps with occasionally. You need to remember at least that.

You have texted him a few times, trying to get more information about the trip, but he hasn’t budged. You only manage to find out that he’ll come pick you up Saturday morning and that you’ll be gone for a whole week. And that you should pack a lot of bikinis.

“You make sure you’ll look good for me, and I’ll take care of the rest,” his text read. Followed up by a stern, “Stop worrying.”

You try taking his words to heart and get prepared in the one way you can: Buying lots of skimpy dresses and bikinis. You vividly picture him taking them off of you and it works. You do stop worrying.

Saturday finally rolls around and you’re ready, suitcase fully packed and dressed in a skirt so short that it will probably have you freezing your ass off on the airplane, but you can hardly bring yourself to care.

His taxi finally pulls up to your apartment building and he jumps out to meet you while the driver loads in your suitcase. You can’t help the giddy smile that’s on your face when Dave’s arms envelop you and your lips are on his before he even gets a greeting out. He chuckles as he kisses you softly, one of his hands cupping the back of your head, before he pulls away slightly to look at you. You’re breathless; the sight of him in his crisp shirt, the top two buttons undone to show off a sliver of his broad chest, his sharp jawline and those brown eyes trained firmly on you already enough to drive you a little crazy with need for him.

“Miss me that much, huh?” he murmurs against your lips, one hand still in your hair while the other one trails down to the hem of your skirt and skims the backside of your thighs before he gives your ass a rough squeeze. You nod quickly as a breath leaves you, not quite a moan but enough to clearly show him the effect his touch immediately has on you.

“Desperate little thing,” he grins and adds a playful slap to your backside before pecking your lips again and leading you towards the waiting car.

He slips in beside you, his hand immediately finding your thigh again and gently rubbing against the bare skin, creeping below your skirt’s hem again and again as you take off in the direction of the airport.

You’re falling into your familiar routine with him, the first effects of seeing him and the flare of your chemistry with each other calming down a little and allowing you to actually talk with him like a normal person, not a lovesick teenager. You’re filling each other in on the few weeks since you last saw each other, the little occurrences that you wanted to tell him about but didn’t have the opportunity to at the time. He’s not much of a texter and you understand that; he’s busy with his job and his family whose existence you still need to keep reminding yourself of.

His large hand doesn’t leave your thigh once throughout the drive, keeping a hold on you that feels especially possessive whenever his grip tightens. At the airport he grabs both of your suitcases and purposefully strides off, leaving you to walk beside him with nothing but your little purse. It’s not a grand gesture by any means, but still, no one has ever taken care of things for you like this and your want for him is bubbling inside of you.

He drops your baggage off at check-in and hands you your boarding pass. You can’t help the squeal that you let out when your eyes find the destination and you excitedly throw your arms around him.

“Are you serious? How did you know that I always wanted- But Dave, that’s SO much, I can’t have you pay for all this, I-“

He shushes you gently, though you can tell that he’s clearly pleased with how happy you are about where you’re going. He presses a kiss to the crown of your hand and rubs his hands over your shoulders.

“Of course you can. I wanted to do something nice for you, sweetheart, you’ve been so stressed out lately. And I-,” he trails off, looking almost a little bashful, “I wanted to spend my time off with you, without interruptions, you know.”

You think that he wants to add more, but he doesn’t, his expression slightly regretful like he accidentally said too much already. He barely verbalizes his feelings and you don’t push it.

“Thank you Dave, it’s- thank you. I really appreciate it.”

You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss him softly, trying to convey what you feel but can’t put into words. How you’re not even there yet and it’s already more than anyone has ever done for you. How ‘I wanted to spend my time off with you’ has butterflies erupting in your stomach, no matter how hard you try to suppress them. How it has you wondering if maybe, just maybe, you might be more for him than just the girl that he’s fucking on the side because his marriage is shitty. How much you wish that you were.

But you don’t have time to ponder all this because he possessively wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you off towards security control, then to the gate where he gets you your favorite Starbucks without even asking for your order, and onto the plane, where he lets you have the window seat and his hand finds its way back onto your thigh.

You brought a book to read on the flight but you can’t make it through one page without losing your focus. Dave’s hand keeps climbing higher and higher, alternating between gripping your inner thigh tightly and drawing featherlight circles on the soft skin, and the heat that had been smoldering within you since you first laid eyes on him today is slowly but steadily becoming too much to bear.

Dave seems annoyingly unaffected, his face as composed as ever as he asks questions about your book, and you know that he notices the way you’re squirming in your seat, and how much he’s enjoying the fact that he’s the one to make you act like this.

You’re in the middle of a sentence when his fingers suddenly move all the way up your thigh and brush lightly against the fabric of your underwear. It’s a barely-there touch, but you’re so wound up that it’s enough to cause you to interrupt yourself with a loud gasp. He retracts his hand the tiniest bit, still hovering between your thighs, and tuts at you.

There’s a dark glint in his eyes that hasn’t been there moments before. You know this look and it takes everything in you to not clench your thighs together in anticipation of what’s to come. He raises an eyebrow, the condescension written clear on his face and his voice a low rumble, quiet enough for only you to hear.

“Shhh, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want everyone on here to know how much of a slut you are for me, now would we? Huh?”

He pinches the soft flesh on your inner thigh roughly when you don’t answer fast enough and you bite your lip, suppressing the whine that is threatening to come out of you.

“N-no…” you whisper and Dave arches his eyebrow even higher, looking at you expectantly. You gulp.

“No, sir.”

A small smile plays around his lips and he places a kiss on your cheek. “Good girl,” he mutters and his hand creeps up again until he’s rubbing against your panties, which you know are absolutely soaked by now. Your hips chase his touch and he chuckles darkly as he withdraws his fingers, completely this time, until he’s holding them up to your face. You can tell that the fingertips are shiny with the arousal that leaked through the fabric and you feel yourself blushing.

“Lick it off,” he demands, and your eyes widen. “H-here?” you dare to ask. His gaze hardens.

“You wanna talk back to me?” His voice is calm, but you can sense the tension that’s rolling off of him. You should be disgusted, both by his request and the way that he’s talking to you, but you’re not. This is how you want him, how you crave him.

You shake your head hastily, acutely aware that questioning him was probably enough to get you into serious trouble later on. The thought sends another wave of desperate arousal through you.

“Then lick. It. Off. I’m not gonna tell you again.”

His tone is clipped, his face a hard mask, but your eyes flick down momentarily and the growing bulge in his pants tells you that he’s not as unaffected by the situation as he wants you to believe. You train your eyes back to his face and hold his gaze as you lean forward and obediently clean his fingers with tiny kitten licks. His jaw tenses as he finally draws his fingers back from your tongue and runs them across your cheek, smearing the traces of your spit there.

A small whine slips out of your throat as you feel fresh wetness flooding your panties and he grins before he kisses you again, murmuring a “Good girl” against your lips. He leans back into his seat, his hand finding an almost innocent position close to your knee.

“Why don’t you read a little more, sweetheart? We’ll be there soon.”

He flashes you a smile that could pass as genuine but you catch the glint in his eyes as he clocks your dazed expression and your slightly parted lips. You nod dumbly and pick the book back up, but not a single word that you read actively registers in your mind.

You try catching glances at Dave, until by the fourth time, he pinches your chin between his fingers and turns your head back forward. “I said, read,” he murmurs into your ear. You know he gets off on this stuff, giving you stupid little orders. And on the fact that you let him. That you get off on it, too.

Your arrival happens in a blur. Dave leads you off the plane and through the smallest airport you’ve ever been to. Your brain is still a bit muddled from the unsatisfied arousal he’s ignited in you and now you’re excitedly turning your head left and right, trying to get in as many impressions as you possibly can. You’re not paying close attention to what’s happening and you’re thankful for the way Dave is taking charge without question. You’re happy to link you fingers through his and let him lead you wherever you need to go.

He retrieves your luggage, walks you out of the airport and to a waiting car. You spend the drive staring out of the window, your eyes wide, taking in all the beauty around you. It’s like you’ve arrived in literal paradise. You tell Dave as much and he chuckles, lifting your hand up to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. The unexpectedly sweet gesture has you blushing and a soft smile plays around his lips.

The hotel is, quite frankly, insane. If you had been worried about the amount of money that he’s spent on this trip before, it pales in comparison to how you’re feeling now. The building is nestled against the foot of a mountain, lush green trees surrounding the front and the road leading up to the entrance, while it opens up to a small, private bay where turquoise waves calmly roll up against the whitest sand you’ve ever seen.

There’s glass walls everywhere, giving you an almost 360° view as you step into the lobby. You know that you’re gaping and Dave actually laughs at your expression as he walks you up to the reception desk to check in. You’re not listening closely, too busy taking in your surroundings and convincing yourself that this is your real life and not some extremely realistic daydream that you’re having while sitting at your work desk.

Dave finishes up and wraps an arm around your shoulders to lead you to the elevators, stepping inside and pressing the top button. The doors slide closed and you can barely think about the fact that you’re apparently staying on the top floor before you’re being whirled around and end up with your front pressed against the elevator wall with Dave’s hands roughly shoving up your skirt until your ass is exposed to him.

Your surprised giggle morphs into a moan as his hand comes down hard to slap it, before gripping the flesh so roughly that it borders on painful. He presses his body up against yours and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss as his other hand slides up to cup your breasts over your tank top.

“Dave- we can’t-,” you gasp just as the elevator comes to a halt and dings. He growls and flicks your skirt back down, but keeps you pressed against his side as the doors slide open again. Thankfully there’s no other people around on this floor to witness your surely utterly disheveled state.

The dark glint is back in his eyes as he drags you along to your room number. He stops in front of the door and turns you towards him, his eyes trained on your face as he stares you down. His voice is low, his tone calm and controlled, but somehow it’s more threatening than if he shouted at you.

“You think you get to tell me what we can and can’t do? You think that’s for you to decide?” His hand grabs your face, his fingers digging into your cheeks, and you whimper. “N-no sir, I’m sorry, I just thought-“ He slaps your cheek, not hard enough for it to hurt, but enough to shut you up. Enough to remind you of your place in this dynamic. Your eyes flicker around hastily, your mind acutely aware of the fact that you’re in a public setting and that someone could walk in on this at any time. His hold returns your face, forcing you to look at him again.

“You don’t think, sweetheart. I decide and you listen, isn’t that right? If I want you to show off that slutty little ass of yours for everyone to see, then that’s what you’ll do.”

You nod to your best ability with his hand still grasping your face, mumbling another, “I’m sorry, sir.” You can barely think, the heat between your thighs almost making your legs buckle at this point. His thumb moves to play with your bottom lip and a cruel smirk grows on his face.

“You will be, doll. This is the third time you’ve disrespected me today. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, huh?”

“Yes, sir.” You can’t help the way you subconsciously bite your lip and you know that your desire is written all over your face, your pupils probably blown wide and your cheeks hot.

“Christ,” he chuckles and seals your lips with another kiss, “you’re a fucked up little thing.” You can only nod, prompting another laugh from him.

He steps up beside you and digs a keycard out of his pocket, holding it up against the door that responds with an affirmative beeping sound and a lock clicking. He pushes the handle down and swings the door open, holding it for you, a hand on the small of your back as you tentatively take a few steps inside.

The gasp you let out now isn’t fueled by your arousal, which is momentarily forgotten, but by your utter inability to believe what you’re seeing. You’re standing in a small hallway which opens up into a gigantic living room that’s probably bigger than your entire apartment and completely lined with glass walls, revealing a balcony and the shimmering sea several floors below you. You slowly walk to the adjoining bedroom that houses the easily biggest bed you’ve ever seen and a continuation of the glass walls. From what you can see, the en-suite bathroom features a lot of white marble.

You turn back to Dave, who has followed you silently and seems to expectantly take in your every reaction. “You’re crazy,” you tell him and he grins as you struggle for words. “This is- it’s so expensive, it’s- it’s too much, really. You’re crazy,” you repeat and he walks up to you to take your hands. His thumbs rub little circles over the skin and he smiles softly.

“As I said, I wanted to do something nice for you. You deserve it, sweetheart, you do.”

“But- but it’s-,” you trail off, mortified to realize that your bottom lip is trembling and your eyes are getting wet. You’re not going to cry in front of Dave, not because of a stupid hotel room. More like a fucking suite, your brain unhelpfully provides and your lip trembles harder. Dave quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, his eyes searching your face.

“But it’s what?” he implores, his features displaying a look of such genuine concern that you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen on him before. “Sweetheart, do you not like it?”

You shake your head, trying to think of some way to explain that doesn’t make you seem totally pathetic. “It’s-,” you draw a deep breath, “it’s just- this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Like, ever. I just can’t believe you would- for me…” You trail off, not sure how to explain that you can’t grasp why he would be willing to spend this amount of money on you. “What I mean to say is, it’s beautiful. Just- thank you. Really, thank you.”

You smile at him and the relief is incredibly evident on his face before he pulls you into a hug, his arms engulfing you, one hand stroking you head softly. For once, his hands don’t wander down your body, he just holds you tight and you allow yourself to think that you could get used to this.

You feel awkward after your little breakdown, but Dave doesn’t mention it again. He lets you traipse around the suite to explore and unpack and follows you when you step out onto the balcony where you inhale deeply, enjoying the salty air and the view down to the bay. You think that it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life and you flash a beaming smile at him.

“You like it?” he checks again and you nod eagerly. “Good,” he mumbles and steps up behind where you’re leaning against the railing, one of his arms finding its way around your middle and his head resting on your shoulder. “That’s good.”

You stay like that a little while, taking in the scenery in front of you in peaceful silence, listening to the sound of the waves that roll against the shore and watching as the sun is sinking lower, a soft golden light spreading out across the sky and reflecting in the water.

Eventually, one of his hands slowly starts gliding up your torso. He cups your breast and his fingers graze your quickly pebbling nipple. You moan quietly and instinctually push your hips back against his crotch and the growing hardness there, which causes him to chuckle as he bends down to run his lips over your neck, leaving small kisses and bites on the sensitive flesh.

You’ve been riled up and let back down so many times today that you feel a bit crazed at this point, the need for him between your legs downright painful as you grind your hips against him and another desperate moan escapes you. “Dave, please… I need you.” Your head falls back against his chest and his other arm loops around your middle, pressing you against him as he tuts softly.

“So needy that you’re forgetting all your manners, huh?”

He pinches your nipple, hard, before his hand sneaks higher and loosely wraps around your throat. The anticipation of what is -hopefully- finally about to happen has you feeling lightheaded. You don’t care that you’re outside, that anyone could look up and easily spot you on the balcony, you would let him fuck you right there, as long as he just finally fucks you at all. You haven’t given him an answer and the hold around you throat tightens. Not enough for any real pressure, but enough to remind you of the power he holds over you.

“Please, sir,” you whine and he chuckles again.

“Not yet, doll,” he whispers into your ear and his hand leaves your throat, then he turns you around until you’re face to face. You can see that he wants you too, it’s written on his features clear as day, and you can barely fathom his level of self-restraint right now. You open your mouth, ready to beg again, ready to beg for anything to relieve the throbbing pain between your thighs, but he shakes his head curtly and even in your lust-filled haze, you know better than to keep going and shut your mouth again.

He grins at your obedience and gives your lips a quick kiss. “Good girl. You’ll get everything you want soon enough, don’t worry. Just gotta be patient a little more, okay?” You nod, and dazedly let him take your hand and lead you back into the bedroom. “But first, we’re gonna have a nice dinner. Think you’re gonna need the energy, doll.” His grin turns downright feral and a small shudder runs through you. “Show me what pretty things you packed, yeah?”

You hum your agreement and turn to rummage through the closet, pick out a dress and fresh underwear and wander off into the bathroom. You half-expect him to stop you and make you change in front of him, but he doesn’t say a word. Maybe seeing you naked would be even too much for his restraint right now.

You change into the dress; it’s one of the new ones that you bought only last week while daydreaming about how Dave would take it off of you. It’s a short silk dress, dark red and with an open back that basically only consists of a several straps that form a loose pattern over your skin, which is why you forego a bra and only pull on a black thong, a lacy, barely there scrap of fabric. You also redo your makeup, adding a lipstick in a shade that matches the dress and freshen up your hair, then step out into the bedroom again.

Dave is still wearing the black slacks that he wore all day, but seems to have changed into a new, creamy white dress shirt, while you were busy in the bathroom. The top three buttons are open, which is one more than usual, exposing more of his broad chest than you’re used to and you know that you’re wearing an expression of awe on your face. He’s so beautiful. He always is, he’s stupidly attractive, really, but it’s hitting you especially hard right now, in these new surroundings and with the prospect of having him all to yourself for one whole week.

He’s eyeing you as well, his gaze roaming hungrily over your body. You become acutely aware of just how short the dress is, how much of your naked skin is on display. You like your body, and you’re not ashamed of showing it off, but this place is fancy. You know you look good, but suddenly, you feel a bit awkward. “Is- is this okay? Because, I-,” you stammer a little, “I didn’t expect this kind of hotel and you said- you said you wanted slutty, so…” You trail off, biting you lip nervously.

Dave’s gaze softens. It’s giving you whiplash, how quickly he switches between the domineering, controlled, sexually charged persona that he’s displaying around you most of the time, and this sweeter, caring side. The side that wants to do something nice for you. He takes a step towards you.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart.”

You do, giving him a little twirl before turning back around and meeting his gaze. He looks… you don’t know how to describe it. The hunger for you that you’re familiar with is there, but it’s also something else, something… more. “You look perfect,” he assures you and you can’t help but believe him. Then he continues, “take off your underwear.” You blink at him and he cocks an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t want any panty lines when you’re looking so gorgeous with that pretty dress.”

You know fully well that the tiny thong that you’re wearing isn’t leaving any panty lines, but you also know better than to argue. The thought of having nothing to protect your modesty under the very short hem of your dress makes you feel exposed, a little uneasy, which is probably exactly what he wants. Always testing your limits, always looking to see how far he can push you, how far you’d go to please him.

You slide your thong off and make to toss it in the direction of your suitcase, but he clicks his tongue and holds his hand out towards you. You put it into his waiting hand and he stuffs it into the pocket of his pants. You suppose that he’s planning something and that you’ll get to know about it when he wants you to, which isn’t now, so you keep your mouth shut and step closer to him. “Dinner?” you ask softly and lean on your tiptoes to kiss him. He returns the kiss, his tongue entering your mouth swiftly, giving you a taste of how much he wants you, before he pulls back and grabs your hand instead, leading you out of the suite and back to the elevator.

It’s just the two of you when you get on, but two floors down, you’re being joined by an elderly couple who you greet politely. As soon as their backs are turned to you, Dave’s hand is under your dress, running a finger through your slick folds. You manage to swallow your surprised gasp, but flinch slightly, and you see him smirk out of the corner of your eye. He slides his finger up and down your slit, brushing your already oversensitive clit a few times, and you bite down hard on your lip to keep the sounds inside that threaten to spill out of you.

When the elevator finally stops, he withdraws his hand and waits until the couple is a few steps away from you, until he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Good girl, learned your lesson I see. Now, what do you say?”

“Thank you, sir,” you breathe, your legs a bit wobbly and your arousal already leaking out of you.

“That’s right.” He pats your ass in a sort of condescending appreciation and you follow him into the dining area.

The hotel’s restaurant is located on the first floor, a beautiful, light-filled space that opens onto a big terrace which seems to float over the ocean and gives you a gorgeous view of the sunset’s colors that have become even more intense since you left your room. You’re being led to a small table for two and you gape at the view, causing Dave to laugh at you again, but it’s a warm laugh, that feels like he’s genuinely happy about how much you’re enjoying yourself.

You try reading through the menu, but you know maybe half of the things that are on there, much less how anything tastes or what you would prefer. You shoot Dave a sort of helpless look and he grins. “Want me to order for you?” he asks and you nod gratefully, trying not to feel embarrassed about how out of your depth you are. He orders something, along with a bottle of red wine, which you very much appreciate. You don’t know much about wine, but this one tastes really good. It turns out that he ordered some kind of fish for you, that you still have no idea how to pronounce right, but now you know that it’s freaking delicious. You tell Dave as much and he gives you another smile that seems much too soft and overwhelmingly right at the same time.

Dinner with him is much easier than you had anticipated. Apart from your excitement about the whole trip, you had been a little nervous about spending an entire week with him, having to make much more conversation than you usually do. It’s not that you never talk, but sooner or later, you end up naked with him whispering filth into your ear. You don’t go out on hour long dates, maybe a drink at a bar, but no big dinners and extensive talks. Until now.

Now you know that he’s a great listener, making you feel heard and understood, never once giving you the impression that you’re boring him. You also learn more about him, about his past, though he stays vague about his current job and the situation with his family. But it’s nice, being with him like this. Another thing that you could get used to, but that’s also another thought to shove into some far away corner of your mind. Be thankful for what it is, don’t become greedy for more, you tell yourself.

After two glasses of wine and a dessert that you could have died for, watching the sun set over the ocean until the night sky took over, you’re buzzing with happiness, but also excitement for the next part of the evening. The whole dinner was better than you could have imagined, but you have also been turned on for hours, with the man that you want right in front of you. When Dave finally stands up and pulls your chair out for you, you all but jump up and flit to his side. He chuckles and looks at your eager face. “Don’t get too excited, sweetheart. Tonight isn’t gonna be all that fun for you.”

The dark glint in his eyes is back and you’re subconsciously clenching your thighs together. The simple thought of what he might do to you is enough to push the arousal that has been simmering inside of you to the forefront of your mind again. You’re amazed how quickly he can sink back into that domineering character that could make you do almost anything with a simple snap of his fingers. He wasn’t like that at dinner, he didn’t once give you the impression that you’re below him or that he doesn’t respect you, separating this sexual dynamic that you’ve established from other parts of your interactions with clean precision.

He leads you out of the restaurant, his fingers grazing the bare skin on your back and you’re once again reminded that you’re completely bare beneath the skimpy dress that you’re wearing. His hand dips lower, playing with the hem that feels like it’s barely covering your ass. Goosebumps are forming on you lower back and your thighs and he chuckles darkly.

He keeps playing with your dress during the elevator ride, his fingers sliding underneath and grazing your ass repeatedly, until you’re fully riled up again. You’re a little nervous now. He promised to be rough several times today and you don’t doubt that he will. You’re excited as well, you want him rough, crave his control over you, but still…

He takes out the key card and opens the door as you follow him quietly, waiting for instructions. You can feel the tension rolling off of him. As soon as the door clicks shut, he’s on you, crowding you back against it, his hands grabbing your wrists and pulling them up above your head while he leans down to capture your waiting lips.

The kiss is messy, all teeth and tongues as he devours your mouth, towering over you and keeping your wrists fixed to the door while his whole body is pressing into yours. You arch into him, helplessly trying to get him closer as you moan into his mouth when he bites at your lower lip, keeping it in between his teeth as he pulls back a little before letting it go. You whine, the quick stab of pain transforming into pleasure and traveling straight to your pussy, which causes you to spread your legs wider and grind your hips against him.

He gathers both your wrists in his large hand, still pressing them against the wall above your head, and lets his other hand roam over your body, grabbing at your waist, bunching up the dress there. “Looked so good tonight, all dolled up in your pretty dress…” he murmurs with his lips now dragging against the soft skin of your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking at the skin, “and all this just for me, sweetheart?” He bites down right below your ear and your hips buck against him.

“Yes, yes sir, fuck…”

Your breath catches in your throat when he abruptly pulls the neckline down to expose your breasts and scratches his fingernails over your nipples. He pinches one hardened bud between his nails and pulls slightly before he lets go and watches how the flesh bounces back, then he repeats the motion on the other side. You’re gasping, tears are welling up in your eyes, it hurts, but it hurts so good, your pussy is completely soaked and you just want him to finally, finally fill you up.

Then he steps back, his jaw flickers as he watches you, still pressed against the door, panting softly and with a dazed expression on your face.

“Get on your knees.”

You get down immediately, hoping against hope that maybe he’ll let you come sooner when you’re being good now. He allows himself a cold smile at your eagerness and steps closer until you have to crane your neck to look up at him. He opens his belt and slacks in sure, controlled movements, the only evidence of his own need for you being the massive bulge that’s right in front of your face. He doesn’t waste time, shoving his pants and underwear down in one move and letting his cock spring free.

You gasp quietly, your mouth opening on its own accord at the sight of his massive length and you look up at him hungrily. “Open wide,” he tells you softly, almost gently and you obey, sticking your tongue out and watching mesmerized as he lets his tip rest on your tongue for a few moments. He pulls back slightly, smearing a mix of your saliva and his pre-cum across your cheeks, then slapping you with his cock, which causes you to moan. “Filthy little thing,” he murmurs and sinks into your wet mouth in one hard thrust.

You gag almost immediately, your throat contracting around him and he groans as he grabs your head and holds you still. Tears well up in your eyes and you already feel lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. He finally lets go and you desperately suck in a lungful of air before he starts thrusting into your mouth again, hitting the back of your throat every time and causing you to choke around him. The way he pushes you around, uses you for his own pleasure has a new rush of wetness flooding your pussy and you’re itching to touch your clit, just a little bit.

He notices how you’re squirming beneath him, how one of your hands is inching closer between your legs and he stops his thrusts, his cock still taking up most of your mouth, and looks down at your face.

“You wanna touch yourself? You like having your face fucked like a whore?”

You nod as best as you can and hum desperately, gazing up at him through your tear-soaked lashes. He furrows his brow, looking down at you with that wicked glint in his eye. “You know how to ask properly, I didn’t hear you sweetheart,” he tells you, sinking even deeper into your throat and you fight to suppress another gag. You hum again and look at him pleadingly; he’s well aware that you can’t ask him anything with his cock filling your throat like this. “Guess you don’t want to, then,” he shrugs, “hands behind your back. You’re not touching that pussy without my permission.” You whine, your clit throbbing painfully for attention, but you obediently cross your wrists at the small of your back.

“Poor thing,” he coos and pats your head in mock-sympathy, then moves his hand back to hold you in place as he pounds into your throat with renewed force. You gag around him, tears flowing all over your face and drool streaming down your chin and onto your tits. He sinks into you again and again, holding you up by your head and making you sputter around him, desperate to somehow draw air into your lungs. “Take it,” he growls, “take it like the little slut you are, down on the floor for me. That’s how you like it, don’t you?” He finally pulls out of you and slaps your cheek when you don’t respond immediately. “Don’t you?!”

“Y-yes sir,” you rasp, gasping for breath, tears and spit still all over your face.

He crouches down cups the cheek that he just slapped, his thumb rubbing at the tear-stained skin under your eye. You’re positive that you look a mess, mascara running down your cheeks and your dark lipstick smeared all around your mouth, mixing with your spit. Your hands are still behind your back, the arch in your body making you push your chest out and putting your tits on full display for him. He starts toying with your nipples again and you want to cry. An orgasm feels so close, yet so far away. You feel like you could come with just a few strokes on your clit, but you have no idea how much longer he will string you along until he finally deems it enough.

“You’ve been such a good girl, sweetheart. So patient all day, I bet you’re dripping all down those pretty legs right now, aren’t you? So desperate and ready for me, yeah?” His voice is a low growl in front of you and you whine your agreement. It’s not enough for him. “Say it. Tell me how desperate my little slut is to finally get fucked.”

You hesitate, your eyes dropping to the ground in front of you. “I-,” you gasp as he roughly grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, waiting for you to do as he said. “I need you to fuck me, so badly. I’ll be so good, I promise, just p-please, sir,” you whine, feeling pathetic, your voice trembling and your face burning. No matter how many depraved things he gets you to do with him, for him, talking like this still gets you embarrassed. Which is precisely why he makes you do it.

“And what are you?”

You feel your face heating up. “Your s-slut, sir.”

He grins as he adds another slap against your cheek. “Damn right you are.”

He straightens back up, tugs himself back into his pants and looks down at you. “Bedroom.” You scramble to get up, but he shakes his head and lands a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down again. “No no. You’re gonna crawl.” You sink back on your hands and knees, the amount of embarrassment and arousal that you’re feeling making you dizzy, and you look up at him shyly.

He nods approvingly and bends down to tug your dress up higher until your bare ass and pussy are on full display. “Good girl, right where you belong. Off you go, come on.” You bite your lip and start crawling towards the bedroom, his footsteps right behind you and you can feel his eyes drinking you in as another groan grumbles in his chest.

You stop in front of the bed and give him a questioning look. He gestures for you to stand up and you get back to your feet with trembling knees. He steps closer, his hands ghosting over your shoulders and toying with the straps of your dress.

“Such a pretty dress,” he murmurs as he slides them off your shoulders, the garment slipping down your body, leaving you bare except for the heels that you’ve been wearing all evening. You’re painfully aware of the power dynamic between you, how you’re completely naked and at his mercy while he’s still fully dressed. His hands roam over you, leaving goosebumps in their wake and come to rest at your hips. He squeezes the flesh there, then turns you around until you’re facing the bed.

One hand reaches up to your neck and he bends you over until your upper body is resting on the mattress, your back arching and your ass up in the air for him. He takes a step back and lands a slap on your backside without warning. You yelp, your body instinctively lurching forward and your legs shaking with the strain of keeping your balance in your heels. He notices, of course, and says, “You better keep those pretty legs steady, doll,” before reaching forward and massaging your stinging flesh. You hum, trying to get your muscles to cooperate, but your legs won’t stop trembling.

Dave’s touch leaves your body and he sits down on the bed beside your head, his eyes searching your face. “What’s your color, sweetheart?” he inquires, softly stroking your cheek. “Green,” you answer without hesitation. It has already been a lot and you’re sure that he’s nowhere near finished with you, but you like it like this. You crave it. He nods, his touch still gentle on your face.

“And what do you say when you need me to stop?”

“Red,” you whisper, leaning into his touch. “Good girl,” he murmurs and leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek, before he stands up again and disappears from your field of view.

“So,” his voice drawls from behind you, “I think I’ll give you twenty-five tonight, how’s that sound, sweetheart?” You gulp, but know that there’s only one acceptable answer.

“S-sounds good, sir. Thank you,” you breathe, the apprehension clear in your voice, and he laughs quietly.

“And what did you do to deserve this?”

You bite your lip again, struggling to think through the fog of arousal clearly enough to give him an answer that he’ll be satisfied with. “I d-didn’t listen and talked- talked back at you, and…” you trail off when his hand dips between your legs, swirling through the wetness there before retreating again. You inhale sharply and continue, “…and that was disrespectful. I’m sorry, sir, it won’t- it won’t happen again.”

“We’ll see about that,” Dave mumbles and his fingertips ghost over your lower back. “But that was a nice little speech, sweetheart. Starting now, you’re gonna count them out for me, yeah? Lose count and we’ll start over.” You nod and your hands grip the sheets as you try bracing yourself.

The first slap meets your flesh, not as hard as you know he can go, but hard enough to get a small scream out of you. “One,” you force yourself to say and he hums appreciatively, before landing the second slap exactly on the same spot as the first one. “T-two,” you whine, his handprint searing on your skin.

You make it until eleven before your legs give out, your trembling muscles collapsing under the task of keeping you upright in your heels while your body is scrambling to get away from the oncoming assault on your ass cheeks. You fall forward, your knees hitting the mattress right after Dave’s hand connected with your backside again. “Twelve, I’m sorry, sir,” you choke out.

“It’s okay,” he assures you, stepping closer and running his hands soothingly over your back as he searches your face, a look of soft concern on his face. “What’s your color, doll?”

“Green. Still- still green, sir,” you breathe out and you mean it. You feel like you’re on fire, but in the best way.

“Yeah?” he questions, “want me to continue?” and you nod your head eagerly. The concern washes away from his face, his jaw tensing and his eyes growing cold again. “Fucking masochistic little slut,” he growls and you moan, your walls desperately clenching around nothing.

He lets you stay with your knees on the bed, your ass still up high for him, until you’ve finally reached “twenty-five, t-thank you, sir.” You’re sobbing at this point, your skin feels raw where he hit you, but you’re also damn near delirious with want for him.

Dave strokes your skin gently, telling you what a good girl you’ve been and how proud he is of you, and you bask in his praise. Then his hand travels lower, slipping between your thighs until his fingers are running through your folds, feeling how soaked exactly his rough treatment has left you. “Fuck doll, you’re dripping. You really liked that, huh?” he murmurs as he pushes two of his thick fingers into you, sliding in easily and making you moan loudly.

He thrusts into your tight heat roughly, causing you to arch your back and spread your legs wider, your release so close that you can almost taste it. He keeps going until he feels you growing tighter, starting to clench around his fingers, and slides them out of you abruptly. You sob, feeling your orgasm subside again.

“I think you were about to come without permission, sweetheart. You just promised me you’d be good, didn’t you? Guess your greedy little cunt just can’t help herself, huh?”

You whimper an apology and receive another slap to your abused skin, causing you to jerk forward. “No doll, you stay right here. Give me your hands,” Dave’s stern voice orders from behind you. You let him take hold of your wrists, leaving you completely at his mercy in the position that you’re in, and he digs your panties out of his pants pocket, looping them around your wrists until they’re tightly secured.

When he’s satisfied with his work, you finally hear the rustling of him taking off his clothes. Without warning, you feel him swipe the head of his cock through your drenched folds, teasing you with the tip, grazing your clit and causing you to gasp, then sliding back until he’s prodding at your entrance. You whine loudly and try pushing your hips backwards, but his hold tightens around you, keeping you in position.

“Not so fast. Be a good girl and beg for it,” he requests, in a voice that still sounds so controlled, while you feel like you’re barely able to form words anymore. You’re not embarrassed anymore, the promise of his cock so close to where you want him wiping all inhibitions from your mind.

“Please sir, I need you so badly, please fuck me, I’ll do anything, just please…”

You feel pathetic begging like this, but you couldn’t care less. Dave lets out a strained groan behind you, and then he’s pushing into you in one strong thrust. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve taken him or how wet you are, his size always stings at the first intrusion and you wail, your body being pushed forward by his movement and he grips your bound wrists, holding you steady as he starts pounding into you.

“So fucking tight and wet you little slut, fuck you take me so good, being such a good girl, fuck…” Now his voice sounds wrecked behind you and you moan loudly at his words and at the way he’s splitting you open. This is what you had been craving for hours, the feeling of him thrusting into you again and again, and you push your hips back to meet his thrusts, to get him even deeper.

One of his hands grips your hair and pulls, forcing you to arch your back even more and slightly shifting the angle where he’s pounding into you, hitting something so delicious inside of you that you almost come on the spot, your walls already fluttering around him, but you’re not allowed, your scrambled brain reminds you, you need…

“Please sir, I’m gonna come, can I please…” Your voice breaks off into a sob when his movements slow down and he pulls out of you, pushing you forward until you’re laying flat on the bed, and he starts working on releasing your bound wrists.

“Good girl, asking for permission,” he praises, “but you’re gonna look me in the face when I make you come tonight.”

He frees your wrists and turns you around so that you’re on your back, looking up at him through teary eyes, desperate for your release. “Poor thing,” he coos as he gets between your legs, placing his large hands on your thighs and spreading them wide. His cock nudges at your entrance but he doesn’t sink back into you, his gaze trained on your face and his hand wandering up to play with your bottom lip.

“Open wide,” he tells you and you obey, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out. His breath has turned heavy by now and he hovers over you, hungry eyes roaming over your face, your open mouth and your wet eyes. He draws back the tiniest bit, then he spits into your mouth, his saliva coating your tongue and you whine, the filth of the whole situation making your pussy clench once more.

“Keep it open, show me.”

You hold still, your mouth wide open, feeling his spit mixing with yours as you stare up at him, waiting for his next command. “Now swallow,” he finally says and you do, showing him your empty mouth afterwards and he grins. “Fuck, you’re such an obedient slut, being such a good girl for me. You’d do anything right now, wouldn’t you? Fucked all the thoughts out of that pretty little head, yeah?”

“Yes, anything,” you whimper, and he sinks his cock back into you without preamble. Your eyes widen at the sensation of being full again and the new angle, moans of his name falling from your mouth and you wrap your legs around him, grasping at his wide shoulders to hold onto something as he starts pounding into you again with raw strength.

One of his hands wraps around your throat, squeezing until you feel light-headed, intensifying the feeling of his deep thrusts into you. Pleading whispers leave your lips, but you don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore, if you want more, if you want him to stop.

His movements speed up even more, hitting spots inside of you that have you moaning and squirming underneath him and the hand on your throat travels down to your breasts, toying with your nipples, pinching and pulling and sending delicious waves of pain through you.

You’re so close again, when his hand slides down to rub at your clit, making you scream and throw your head back, your eyes pinched close. He grabs at your face and forces you to look at him.

“Oh no, you’re gonna look me in the eyes when I make you come, are you gonna come sweetheart?”, he growls. You whine and nod desperately, your eyes shining with tears. “Go ahead then, come for me, squeeze my cock like the good little whore you are.”

He swirls his thumb over your neglected clit once more, gives you a particularly hard thrust and your vision swims, your whole body tensing up before you bear down on him and fall apart. You’re clenching rhythmically around his cock as the orgasm tears through your body in pulsing waves and you’re pulling him over the edge with you as he climaxes with a deep moan, spilling his release inside of you.

You’re a trembling mess, your breath stuttering and your mind still caught up in a blissful haze, and you’re only vaguely aware of him collapsing beside you, but you register the tender kiss that he presses to your cheek before he gets up and retreats to the bathroom.

The next thing you feel is the bed dipping as he sits down beside you again and you slowly blink your eyes open. Maybe it’s the post-orgasmic bliss that you’re still lost in, but you think to yourself that he looks especially beautiful right now, his face relaxed with a small smile playing around his mouth, where the stubble of his beard is showing through at the end of the day, and with his brown eyes warm again now as he looks at you.

“May I?” he asks and holds up a damp towel. You nod, returning his smile and watching as he brings the towel down between your legs, cleaning you up and soothing your hot skin. He gently turns you over and spreads some kind of healing balm over your burning cheeks, careful not to touch you too roughly. He also cleans your face, his soft touches almost enough to lull you to sleep.

When he’s finished, he maneuvers you around, causing you to giggle, until you’re in the middle of the bed and he can pull the covers over you, sliding in beside you and wrapping his arm around your middle. You shuffle closer until you’re securely tugged into his side, your breath fanning against his broad chest.

“You good?” he asks, looking down at you and placing a kiss on your forehead. “Yeah,” you smile up at him and stretch to reach his mouth with your lips. He kisses you back, his hand coming up to play with your hair, and you smile even wider. As much as he likes to be rough with you, you think that what he actually needs, is the softness.

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denim-mixtapes · 2 months

Text

Not Another Moment to Waste (Hot Summer Night Part 3 of 4)

Word Count: 5k Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader Tags: EXPLICIT SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI - Rockstar/Radio DJ AU, canon divergence, set in 1992 and Eddie has more piercings and tattoos than ever, thigh riding, semi public sex, unprotected p in v sex (do not do this), light spanking, pet names instead of y/n (sweetheart, doll, baby), quickie in a broom closet (the smut scene is VERY BRIEF, this is a set up for a 4th and final part that is all smut no plot).

Summary: An emergency at work and a request direct from Steve Harrington lands you in Indianapolis, working before the Corroded Coffin show, and Eddie Munson fulfils his promise to take you backstage and show you a good time.

[AO3] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part4 COMING SOON]

yes that is a photo of hozier in the header no i do not want to elaborate it just WORKS okay

When Eddie Munson promised to bring you backstage at the next corroded coffin show, you half took it as an empty gesture. Nothing more than a few pretty words murmured into your ear while still high off the adrenaline of a quick fuck in a bar bathroom.

It was great while it lasted, sure, but you were just another girl in another city and at the end of the day, Indianapolis was the next city on the list. A new city with new groupies and new distractions. He’s already probably forgotten about you, or at least moved on.

So when you’re catching lunch before getting ready for work, you’re surprised to get a page from your station manager marked URGENT.

Shouldering your way into the phone booth outside of your favorite deli, you dig out change and dial his office number with a huff.

“WKZT, this is Gary,” his gruff voice echoed through the pay phone.

“Hey, it’s me, what’s the situation?”

“Yeah, so,” he clears his throat uncomfortably. “Change of plans. Dave’s wife went into labor early so he can’t make the trip out to Indy for the Corroded Coffin gig tonight. Now normally I would send someone else in his place but we got a call from Steve Harrington specifically requesting that you make an appearance.”

You huff, rolling your eyes, “Gary, I’m not– I don’t do live events.”

Your boss grumbles, a heaviness in his voice that suggests he isn’t happy about this turn of events either, “Like I don't know that. Do you think I’d send you if I had any other option?” There’s a long pause on his end followed by another grunt of disinterest. “Look, Jimmie is going too, he can handle all the on air shit without his co-host, but I need someone there running tech shit. Just make sure nothing goes awry with the broadcast and then you’re scot free, free to enjoy the free concert with damn good seats thanks to Harrington.”

He can clearly hear the rattling of the phone booth as you hit your forehead against it, contemplating. On one hand, if the band’s management was sending for you, it must mean something good, right? But on the other, you have to spend two hours in the van with your unbearable coworker Jimmie – both ways – and work a live event, something you have absolutely no experience in.

As if he could sense your hesitation, Gary continued, “The station will put you up for the night, so you won’t be headed back late at night, and you’ll be paid for the mileage. Please, kid, we need you.”

“Mileage and the bonus event pay Dave would have gotten?” You push.

There’s a long pause before he gives in. “Fine. But you have to bunk with Jimmie in that case.”

“I guess I’ll take it,” you mumble, thankful for the tiny victory at least.

Your boss exclaims on the other end of the line, a sound of relief and uncharacteristic gratitude. He tells you to get packed and get to the station as soon as possible, you have a long drive ahead of you and an earlier call time than usual.

Packing.

A task much easier said than done.

Normally for work trips in the past, you only threw in the essentials. Jeans, station-branded tee shirts, a blazer for professionalism, and comfy, worn in combat boots. Now, staring into your wardrobe, you’re overthinking everything.

Harrington requested that the station send you. That must mean that Eddie was asking for you, that maybe his whispered promise of pulling you backstage for another roll in the hay had some truth behind it after all. The thought has you squirming in anticipation as you stare down your clothing.

A look at the clock reminds you of your time crunch, and you throw a few options in a bag, hoping for a quick trip and some time to freshen up in your hotel room before you have to head to the concert.

About an hour into your drive to Indianapolis, you’re starting to wonder if Eddie Munson is actually worth all this trouble.

Jimmie Page was exactly the type of man that made you feel like you didn’t belong in this industry. He changed his last name earlier on in his career in the hopes that daft women would confuse him with the musician of the same name. Everything he did and said was calculated, strategically planned to garner attention from the opposite sex, and he was cocky in the fact that it often worked. Not on you. From the moment you started at the station, he saw you as a challenge, but finally after years of turning down his advances (and more than one threat to call HR) he instead started treating you like ‘one of the boys.’

That’s how you got here now, in the passenger seat of the vinyl-wrapped station van, listening to him tell you stories as if you were just one of the guys. Crude, vulgar, accompanied with hand motions that jerked the steering wheel nauseatingly. You’re honestly not sure you prefer this to getting hit on.

By the time you make it to your hotel to check in, through the suffocating elevator ride, and into the dimly lit room, his voice is practically white noise roaring in your ears.

You throw your duffel onto one of the beds (thanking Gary, Dawn, and all that is holy that there are two of them), and start digging through it, tossing clothing items and makeup products on the bed in order to start getting ready.

There’s a low whistle behind you, the sound piercing you between the eyes to awaken the headache that this man always seems to cause.

“That’s a lot of face paint there, honey.” The endearment is sour on his lips, churning your stomach in all the wrong ways. His eyes turn to the scrap of leather in your hand. “Short skirt too. You hoping to attract some metalhead wannabe tonight? Maybe a greasy little merch boy? I can see how that would seem like the next best thing to the ones up on stage just out of reach in your eyes.”

Oh if only you knew.

You bite back the snide comment and push past him roughly, making your way to the bathroom.

“Just trying to blend in, asshole.”

“Well,” he shouts to be heard through the bathroom door, “we can’t all be prudes like you. So don’t you worry about me if I don’t show up back here till mornin’, yeah?”

“I should be so lucky.” You mumble to your reflection.

—

Thankfully, the broadcast goes off without a hitch. You stay in the van manning the equipment while Jimmie parades around outside, interviewing passerby, giving out stickers and tee shirts, and asking them to introduce the next song. He even manages to catch Gareth before he heads backstage and gets him to give another shout out. It isn’t a long show, they never are at live events, which you’re thankful for, and soon enough you’re both packing away work and heading inside the venue.

You’re worried you’ll have to spend the whole evening with your coworker, but when the usher scans your badges, you’re separated. You are told to stay put for a moment while Jimmie is led to his seat in the press area, off to the side and a little further back than desirable, and he looks at you with a furrowed brow that you only reply to with a shrug.

Thank. Fuck.

The usher speaks into a headset and tells you to wait there, someone will be there to collect you momentarily.

Turns out, someone is Dustin Henderson himself, dressed exactly as you would have expected in a Weird-Al-inspired patterned button down, jeans, and an oversized sport coat, flanked by two more men in actual suits that you don’t recognize.

“(Y/N), Hi!” He greets, taking your hand and shaking it with both of his, comically vigorous. “So glad you could make it.”

“Uh, hi,” you return his fond gesture, but point over your shoulder in the direction of the press area. “Am I not…there? I thought this was a press badge.”

“It is, technically, but Munson wouldn’t have it.” Henderson turns and starts walking, confident that you’ll follow. Which you do, eyes trained on the short mess of curls in front of you. He keeps talking to the open air in front of him, gesturing wildly in a way that suggests he’s never been able to keep his hands still. “I don’t know if you’re aware, young lady, but you’ve made quite the impression on our frontman.”

Your face twists in confusion as he ducks down a quieter hallway, away from the noise of fans and merch tables. “Young lady?” You scoff, “What are you, nineteen?”

“Twenty-one.” He corrects coolly over his shoulder.

Holding up your hands in defense, you stifle a laugh and continue to follow him down another hallway and through a set of double doors.

They lead you right up side-stage. Beside you sits a rack of guitars, you recognize Eddie’s iconic red Warlock, as well as another deep emerald green number he’s known to favor and a simple wooden-body acoustic. Curtains obscure your view of the growing crowd and offer you cover from their view, but your vantage point offers you the perfect line of sight across the stage, if not a little bit skewed because it’s from a different angle.

Smoke pours in from the fog machines underfoot as the opening band plays their set, guitar techs and various venue employees shuffle around you to do their work but you’re never made to feel in the way.

Dustin gestures to a pile of rolling trunks and equipment cases and smiles kindly, “more than welcome to take a seat throughout the show, but I like the view from here best. Steve and I will be around if you need anything just let one of us know.”

You nod and thank him with a sweet smile, a little overwhelmed at the special treatment, but then there’s a ruckus from behind you and Dustin is rolling his eyes and running off toward it, trying not to seem as frantic about the commotion as he clearly is.

And then you’re alone.

You enjoy the opening band, feeling the music as much as you’re hearing it, the nearby amplifiers thrumming along with the beat, and soon enough the frontman is introducing the last song. The commotion around you grows louder, more excited as more people filter in. Across the stage in the other wing, Jeff sees you and raises a hand in a kind wave, which you return happily. There’s no way you could stop yourself from looking around for a familiar head of hair framing that signature cocky smile. Peeking over your shoulder, you don’t see anyone you recognize except for Dustin, and across the way you can see the rest of the band, but Eddie is nowhere to be seen.

Until hands grip your waist from behind, making you yelp.

The sound of the opening band introducing Corroded Coffin and the roar of the crowd are syrupy in your ears at Eddie’s proximity. His hands squeeze where they hold your waist with a sense of familiarity you didn’t expect from him, and his words cut through the dull white noise around you when he murmurs in your ear. It’s a soft, pointed greeting of, “sweetheart.”

“You treat all your interviewers this special?” You tease, turning in his grasp to gaze up at him through your lashes.

“Definitely not.” He lets out a dark chuckle, one hand leaving your waist to grab roughly at your jaw and pull your face toward his for a hurried kiss. The hand still on your waist travels south, splaying wide over your ass, his long fingers teasing at the hem of your skirt that doesn’t land much lower than the crease of your cheeks. His voice lowers even further, “but then, they don’t all look nearly this good in leather.”

Behind him an impatient guitar tech clears their throat, and Eddie smirks. Your lips just barely brush his as you breathe, “break a leg.”

It’s with a dark chuckle and swift swat where his hand was resting on the swell of your ass that he mutters his own, “thanks, angel.” He finally detaches from you, much to your dismay, and allows the guitar tech to adorn him with his beloved Warlock. Onstage, The Freak matches the energy of the crowd with the bass-heavy introduction to Upside Down, and blanketed in the sounds of cheering fans and his first grungy, prolonged chord of the song, Eddie stalks backward slowly toward the stage. Eyes dropping from yours to take in your figure appreciatively, at the very last moment before he breaks onto the stage he adds on, “but all the luck I need is standing right there in a worn out pair of Docs.”

It’s lame. It’s so lame that you can’t stop your eyes from rolling at his sentiment, but as he turns to run out and greet his fans, he catches the flush creeping up your neck.

—

The show is electric. A whirlwind of wicked instrumental solos and Eddie’s powerful vocals, of the roar of a pleased crowd, fabricated smoke and sparks from cheap pyrotechnics, warm stage lights and adrenaline and speakers rattling your chest. Every time Eddie casts a sidelong glance your way, bathed in red stagelight and sweat and pure sex, you return the look with a dramatic blown kiss or an encouraging gesture, thinly disguising the way that every single one of those looks settles right between your legs.

After a show stopping first half of the setlist, allowing a moment for the deafening roar of the crowd to settle on the room, Eddie slings the Warlock to hang off his back as he approaches the mic stand, cupping both hands around it to speak in a hush.

“What do you say we give these goons a break?” He asks, voice low and sultry. There’s a hesitation in the crowd, but it’s filled with unsure excitement. Even you find yourself leaning in, waiting to see what he’s got up his sleeve. “What you you say, we make this a little more intimate between you and I? Huh? Would you like that, Indy?” The smile that lights up his face at the enthusiastic screaming from his fans is so boyishly gleeful and out of character that it almost catches you off guard. For a moment, you catch a glimpse of the teenager he was before the murder charges. Before the bandwagon accusations of a hometown that was always against him. Before the loss of a dear friend. The teenager who played DnD and covers-only gigs with these same friends, dreaming of doing exactly this one day. He chuckles into the microphone, then, gaze lingering on you through kissed lashes, he croons, “well then why don’t you allow me a moment to slip into a little something more comfortable and I’ll be right back.”

Soundtracked by house music, an outburst of applause and excited hollering, all four of them run off the stage toward you. Mirroring their excited energy, you high five the guys as they run past you toward Steve and Dustin who are waiting with bottled water and encouraging grins. You expect Eddie to follow suit, but he beelines for you, handing off the Warlock to the guitar tech with his wicked smile trained on you. Before you can process what’s happening, he’s on you, taking your face in both hands and smacking a hard, hurried kiss on your lips.

Breathless and sweat slick and warm, he asks, “enjoying the show?”

“Mmm,” you hum, pressing your lips together in a tight smile and nodding as much as his hold on you would allow. “Very much. They love you out there!”

Still rushed, not wanting to leave too much dead air on stage, he pulls away and shrugs out of the denim battle vest he’s been wearing all night. Tugging at the collar of his torn up black tank top, he tears it off and throws it over your shoulder to another stage hand. You’re only given a brief moment to appreciate the sight before another shirt is tossed back. “Oh, they ain’t seen nothing yet,” he growls, clearly referencing the crowd but directing his energy right at you. He dons the new shirt, a black and white baseball tee boasting the logo of – if your research is correct – his high school DnD group the Hellfire Club, and takes the acoustic guitar being thrust into his arms. Behind the wall of speakers, the crowd has started to chant his name and he basks in it, grinning. “Time to go bare my soul,” he sighs, winking in your direction and turning in place to run back out to his adoring fans, the first few notes of Wake Up ringing through the sound system.

Somewhere between the first and second encore, you’re sent for again. The band had run off to the opposite end of the stage, much to your disappointment, but as you watch their close knit huddle fondly, it’s Steve’s turn to sidle up beside you.

You draw a breath to greet him, but the chant of Master! Master! Master! From the crowd demanding Eddie’s infamous cover of Metallica’s Master of Puppets all but drowns you out. Chuckling, you lean in closer and shout, “is it like this every night!?”

“Hm,” Steve muses, “not always. But we’re so close to our hometown, Indy crowds always deliver.” A beat of quiet passes between you before he continues, “I was asked to bring you back to the green room, if you want to follow me.”

“Uh, sure, yeah,” you concede, craning your neck as you follow him to watch them take the stage again.

Through more corridors and ducking around venue employees, you follow Steve Harrington back past the line of fans and wannabe groupies claiming they know this person or the other to try and make it backstage, toward the irritated security guard who waves Steve through with ease. From the line you can hear gripes from girls in too-tight shirts fresh from the merch table, who even is she? and what’s so special about that one? and why does she get to go back there!? As much as you wish it didn’t, pride swells in your chest at their jealousy. As you pass the guard adamantly telling someone that a press badge doesn’t get them past this point, you turn and let out a surprised laugh at the WKZT polo shirt and Jimmie’s shocked guffaw of your name.

You offer him a cocky smile and the briefest wiggle of your fingers before turning back around to continue chasing after Harrington.

There’s a few people milling about when you arrive at the green room. A girl you recognize as Gareth’s girlfriend, if tabloids are to be believed, a couple more girls that look like they were plucked from the crowd to join the band post-show, a few roadies waiting to break down, and you think the girl in the corner is Robin Buckley, long time friend of both Eddie and his management team. She’s sipping on a glass of champagne probably provided by the venue and scanning the pages of a thick paperback, keeping away from the chaos.

Steve gestures widely to the room without any additional words, catches Robin’s eye and gives her a brief salute, and heads out unceremoniously. As the door slams shut behind you, all eyes turn to you with interest, everyone curious about the new arrival. The girls quickly realize you aren’t one of the band members and lose interest quickly, Robin gives a polite wave, but returns to her book, and you’re left to stand uncomfortably in the doorway. That is, until maybe-Gareth’s-girlfriend smiles comfortingly your way and moves the throw pillows off of the other half of the loveseat she’s perched on, offering you a seat.

“Thanks,” you mumble, tucking your feet under you as you take a seat and tugging at the hem of your skirt to make sure you remain decent, “I probably look like a fish out of water here, huh?” You laugh at your own expense.

“Nah, you just look a lot like I felt after my first show on tour, happy to be here but a little lost” she waves you off, brown eyes sparkling with kindness. She tosses a curtain of rainbow colored box braids over one shoulder and offers you a hand to shake, “I’m Kiara.”

Shaking her hand, you offer a broad smile in return and introduce yourself.

“Oh!” She perks up, leaning toward you excitedly, “you’re the radio host from last night, right? The guys could not shut up about you all day today! Well…some more than others.”

Your cheeks color at her suggestion that Eddie was the one doing most of the talking, and you rub awkwardly at the back of your neck. “That’s me,” you chuckle, “so Eddie’s uh, mentioned me?”

“No! Not like that!” Her burst of a laugh is downright musical, and she’s physically waving off the comment with a manicured hand in the air. One hand lands on your arm and squeezes comfortingly. “Well, yeah. He’s Eddie. Of course he did, but I meant all the guys! Jeff said it was one of the best radio spots they’ve ever done. Gareth was practically glowing when he mentioned that you featured his solo. They were all impressed.”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you let out your own laugh, “well, I guess that’s good to know. They were a pleasure to have on the show, really genuine.”

The cushions behind you dip with the sudden weight of Robin Buckley’s crossed arms, leaning in conspiratorially. “But….one more of a pleasure than the rest, right?” One brow raised, even she can’t take herself seriously, snorting with laughter at the color draining from your face. “Ah, I’m just fuckin’ with ya, kid.” She tousles your hair affectionately, “it’s been a while since Munson’s been this smitten. I’m pleased to meet the girl behind the voice.”

Robin and Kiara talk around you, but those words dance around in your head.

Smitten?

No. That’s impossible.

He met you yesterday. Well, okay, technically you’d met once before. That show at the Hideout in his hometown was years ago, though. There’s no way he remembers you, no matter how much you may have flirted back and forth.

Then again, he didn’t have to invite you back, or specifically call the station to request your presence.

The door slamming open, rattling off the wall with its force pulls you from your thoughts. At the open doorway, flanked by his friends and band members, Eddie Munson lets out a hearty, “That’s how you put on a fuckin’ show!”

Hoots and hollers fill the room around you as the band filters in, adrenaline pouring off of them, filling the space quickly and wasting no time in pouring themselves drinks and passing around an overstuffed blunt. Gareth fills the space on the loveseat between you and Kiara, making you stand in response to make more room for him. Your conversation was all but over, anyway, and you’ve set your sights on Eddie across the room, who made a detour for the mini bar before making his way to you. You decide to meet him there, instead.

He’s bent at the waist, leaning with one arm on the door of the fridge, peering into it as if to look for some hidden prize. He closes the door as you approach, leaving room for you to slip between him and the minifridge and perch atop it. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he holds back the fond smile, forcing a more nonchalant look onto his face.

“What’s a girl gotta do to get a good drink around here?” You ask, reaching out to toy with the tattered collar of his Hellfire shirt.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purrs, leaning in close. You anticipate a kiss, leaning up and into him, only for him to change his course and continue on past you, reaching high onto the shelf above your head to pull down a bottle of bourbon. Uncapping it, he takes a swig for himself, then, grin turning wicked, notches the mouth of the bottle under your chin to tilt your pout up toward him. “I can think of a few things.”

His eyes follow the drag of your tongue across your lower lip, breath steady but shallow, and you take the moment of distraction to pluck the bottle from his hands and take a swig of your own, your smirk self-satisfied and cocky as the amber liquor burns your throat.

As he passes, the Freak mumbles to “get a fuckin’ room.”

Nearby, Jeff also groans out, “or at least let us get to the beer, man.”

Eddie’s shoulders slump, eyes rolling in an annoyed gesture, but the predatory smile never falters. He raises an eyebrow, staring you down, “good idea boys.” He steps back, holding a hand out to help you up, and as he ushers you out of the room with an arm wrapped heavy around your shoulder, he adds, “think I may do just that.”

Your ears burn at the attention, but you hide your smile in the soft cotton covering his chest and follow blindly down the hall. He peeks into a couple doors, finding them occupied or locked or otherwise insufficient. You're squirming in his hold by the time he opens another door at the end of the hall to uncover a supply closet, he hasn’t even touched you and yet you’re on the verge of melting into a puddle of anticipation and longing. It would be pathetic if you didn’t know for a fact he was in the exact same boat, pent up with adrenaline from a good show.

He doesn’t suggest it outright, but he peers down at you with a questioning brow, lets the door swing open and make the suggestion for him.

With a sly smile and no second thought, you press the bourbon back into his hand and lead the way into the closet, letting your eyes adjust to the darkness. He joins you quickly with a hint of pride shining in his eye. One final pull from the bottle and he slams it onto one of the shelves, freeing his hands to crowd you up against the door, your cheek pressed into the cool metal, and push your skirt up and over your hips. Impatient fingers swipe through your folds and you both groan. You, at the contact, the tease of sweet relief after wanting for so long. He, at the realization that you haven’t had panties on this entire time.

“Fuck, baby,” he huffs, retreating to make quick work of his belt and jeans, shoving them down just enough. You whine at the loss, drawing a dark chuckle from the man behind you. He fists his cock, lining up with your entrance, pausing just before giving you what you want. “Thought I would’a needed to warm you up at least a little,” his hips snap forward, driving into you with one swift motion and pulling a desperate moan from the back of your throat. “Should’ve known you’d be ready for me, the way you were practically fuckin’ me with your eyes all night.” He grips your hip with one hand, the other propped on the door beside your head, and starts to build a rhythm. Steady but quick, wasting no time.

“Can– fuck, Eddie–” you interrupt yourself when he hits particularly deep, and a peek over your shoulder at the shit eating grin on his face confirms that it was definitely on purpose. You groan, letting your forehead fall against the door again, “can you blame me? Y’looked so damn good out there, you were–” Another pointed piston of his hips cuts off your compliment with a guttural moan, and you concede, deciding now is not the time for talking.

“That’s it, Sweetheart,” he urges, mouthing at the nape of your neck, the hand on your hip sneaking lower to rub sloppily at your clit. He takes in your shaky breath, the hitch in it at his touch, and urges you closer to release. It’s over almost as quickly as it started, not your usual gradual build, but rather a startling wave washing over you with a cry. Eddie grunts his approval into your hair, following quickly and spilling inside you.

You stay that way for a moment, both of you breathing slowly and getting your bearings, until a drunk little giggle escapes your throat, sandwiched between your lips and your forearm where you rest your head.

Running a hand down your spine gently, Eddie hisses as he pulls out, then swats playfully at your ass. “What’s so funny?” If he was actually bothered by your laughter, he didn’t show it.

“Dunno,” you giggle, moving as if through molasses as you stand to right yourself, pulling the skirt back down and smoothing wrinkles from your top, “just really glad I agreed to come tonight.” You decided to bite back the tease, to not call attention to the fact that last night he practically promised you the night of your life, only to end up with a quickie in the broom closet. Not that you’re complaining, the man knows what he’s doing, but…

As if he can read your thoughts, he reaches out for you, drawing you into him with a firm hand on the small of your back. He swallows your protest, licking into your mouth with a smug satisfaction to make sure you know he isn’t going anywhere.

“Oh, you thought I was done with you?” He asks, dimples practically twinkling with the mischief they hold.

“Well, I…yeah?” You can’t come up with the words, so you just nod dumbly. “Baby,” he noses at your temple, kissing a tight smile into your hairline before dropping his tone to murmur directly into your ear. “That was just blowing off some steam after the show.” Another kiss, this time to the spot just below your ear that he discovered last night, nipping at the sensitive skin lightly and savoring the gasp it elicits from you. “I plan on taking my time with you tonight, you better not be calling it a night on me already.”

#eddie munson/reader #stranger things reader insert #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson reader insert #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

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4.5k?!?? darling, that is so, so incredible - sending you huge congratulations! you're such a wonderfully warm and kind presence here, and we thank you for the constant time, love and energy you devote to your amazing fics ❤️

i may be being greedy but you've had me by the throat for months, so - only if you're up for it, my sweet - maybe just a little something spicy with my bois dave and frankie? the prompt “Think you can handle that much?" really came out and slapped me across the face lmao, but please disregard if it's not feeling right.

forever loving you! congratulations again, angel!

THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVE!!! It means so much that you say this, and I'm happy to indulge in any kind of frankie x reader x dave goodness because honestly, I've been thinking about them a lot lately ❤️ (I think I got carried away a bit with this one. this is def not a drabble anymore svfdd)

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞

pairing: frankie morales x fem!reader x dave york

genre: smut, absolute filth, minors dni

word count: 2,4k (this is just filth y'all, start from finish. It's been a while since I wrote this long of a smut piece, the horny possessed me)

summary: you've been having a stressful time, Dave and Frankie provide an excellent way to comfort you.

warnings: dom/sub dynamics, mention of safe words, brattamer!dave, bratty!frankie & reader, double penetration, dirty talking, mlm dynamics, oral (giving), mild daddy kink, frankie has a big dick because why not, vaginal/anal fingering, bit of cum play, little bit emotion at the end, oh and reader doesn't understand Spanish

a/n: this can be seen as a part of the fic I wrote way before called wonderful tonight and this one does have very mild references to it (the nicknames mostly) but you can read this without reading that

𝑺𝑰𝑳'𝑺 4.5𝑲 𝑭𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑹 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑰 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻 (open)

“Come on sweetheart, you can suck cock better than that—Can’t you?”

You have tears in your eyes. Frankie’s hand a constant presence at the back of your head, nails gently scratching your scalp. Your chin aches, spit, and precum dripping from the sides as you attempt to take more of him. Your nostrils flare, your eyes squeezed tight when you feel the head of his cock brushing the back of your throat.

Frankie moans at the way you gag around him, fingers sliding down to your neck, he squeezes.

“She’s doing just fine,” he says, the harsh snap of his words directed at Dave. “Her mouth is heaven on earth,”

“How can it be heaven when she can barely take it?”

A soft whine rattles your throat, your gaze flicking to meet his. He clicks his tongue and rubs your neck, shushing you. “You’re doing amazing, querida. Don’t mind him. He’s just jealous because he wants a taste for himself,”

“I’m trying to help,”

“Just sit there and enjoy the show,”

You hear Dave scoff, he had positioned himself right across from the bed where he has a side view of both you and Frankie. He has fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking himself leisurely, watching you both with a critical eye. He swipes his palm over the fat head of his cock, coating his length with precum.

Some childish part of you wants to turn and stick your tongue out at him, but despite your simmering annoyance, his words make you feel embarrassingly hot. Each time he opens his mouth, speaks to you in with that deep voice of his, you feel it resonating in your core.

Frankie’s words pull you out of your thoughts, “You take it so well, don’t stop. Please.”

And those words send a different kind of wave of pleasure over your worn-out body. You’re getting whiplash between the praise and the degradation. You’re starting to think that this has been their plan from the start. You have been stressed lately, not enjoying things like you used to. They must’ve noticed. Between the lovely dinner and now this, surely they had. Of course, they did. They were both observant as fuck, both a blessing and a curse.

Frankie’s moans become louder, the most sinful noises you ever heard. It’s loud, deep, and it prompts you to take more of him. A tear escapes your eye when the tip of his cock slides down your throat, you continually swallow, hallowing out your cheeks as you desperately try to suppress your gag reflex.

“Oh god baby, you’re going to make me come like that—” he trails off in Spanish, words quickly whispered into the air. He looks down at you with eager eyes and you answer him with a confused gaze. It takes him a moment to realize you didn’t understand him.

You hear soft steps approaching. A sound that is made deliberately to excite you more, which works. Dave grabs Frankie’s chin, lifting the other man’s gaze to meet his own. A whine slips from Frankie’s swollen lips, Drave grins, his next words directed at you.

“He wants you to use your tongue more sweetheart, swirl it around,”

You make a gurgled sound that is supposed to mean oh. Pulling your mouth up, you swirl your tongue, wrapping your lips tighter. Frankie’s groan echoes, lips parted wide as his eyes roll back with Dave still holding his chin up. Your pussy clenches, slick dripping down your thighs.

“Sweet boy,” Dave hums. “Where’s that attitude now, huh? Now, who was it that wanted a taste?”

You notice Dave’s hips thrusting into his fist, and your mouth waters. Distracted, you pull your mouth away, starting to adorn the side of Frankie’s cock with wet kisses. Dave’s smile widens into a grin when he notices Frankie’s eyes dropping to his lips.

“Tell me what you want,” he coos, fisting his cock faster. “Does my sweet boy want a kiss from daddy?”

“Can I have a kiss from daddy?” you chime in, lips brushing the tip of Frankie’s cock. You smile when you hear him whimper.

“Oh,” Dave answers, looking down at you but fingers still hooked under Frankie’s chin. “You’ll be receiving more than kisses as soon as daddy number two relents, princess.”

He chuckles at your pout, Frankie groans, cock twitching against your wet lips. Dave’s hand moves to the base of his cock and squeezes, a soft grunt escaping his throat.

“Think of it like this,” he continues. “The sooner he begs for release—and a kiss— the sooner you’ll have us both filling you up.”

Your gaze moves to Franke who is nowhere near gazing at you back. His focus is slowly fixated on Dave, his jaw tense and eyes narrowed. Without pulling away your gaze, you blow a puff of air across his cock and watch him wince, his chest heaves.

“Promise me first,” you say to Dave.

He grins, “Promise.”

You’re pretty sure you shock them both with the way you dive back in, tongue and mouth moving with fervor as you attempt to push Frankie to the brink of orgasm. His cock throbs heavily on your tongue, he bites back his mouth, teeth clenched tight together. Dave touches Frankie’s hand that was still nestled at the back of your head and pulls the pilot’s hand to his own cock. You moan around Frankie’s length when he starts to stroke Dave’s cock, his movements hesitant and a bit shaky. You like to think it’s because of you.

“Come on,” Dave teases, his jaw slack with the corner of his lips tilted up. “All you have to say is ‘please kiss me Dave’ and that’s all, and I will. Just say the words,”

“P-Please,” Frankie swallows, his cock twitching. You flatten your tongue, pressing it snugly underneath. His eyes momentarily drops to you and he swallows again, a loud gulp heard between the three bodies.

He mutters in Spanish again and Dave shakes his head, clicking his tongue with annoyance.

“English,” he warns. “She’s been working hard, she deserves to understand your begging,”

“Fine,” Frankie growls, voice raising. “Please kiss me, Dave.”

“Good boy,”

“Shut up.”

Dave lets out a huff but he’s smiling, “Such a sour loser,”

You start to stroke Frankie’s cock, the mixture of spit and precum providing a smooth glide. You watch the two with intrigue; Dave leans down, capturing Frankie’s lips in a heated kiss. Dave thrusts into Frankie’s still hand, soft groans filling the empty space in between. A fat bead of precum appears at the tip of Frankie’s cock, you swipe it almost immediately with your tongue.

Much to your surprise, Frankie is the one to part away first, a string of saliva still connecting them both. Dave’s lips are red and kiss swollen, it takes you everything not to pull him down, your lips left tingling. Frankie gestures towards you with a tilt of his head, Dave’s eyes following.

“I think our princess also deserves her reward,” Frankie smiles, he swipes a drop of Dave’s precum and brings it to your mouth. You wrap your lips around his finger hungrily, swirling your tongue around the digit. He purrs, “Always so eager to have us.”

“Please…” you beg, rubbing your legs together. “I’ve been good haven’t I?”

“You have been sweetheart,” Dave helps you up the bed, his wet lips chasing yours. “We’re going to take good care of you.”

Frankie positions himself underneath you while Dave pushes himself to sit on his heels right behind you. His hands follow the curve of your ass, pinching it playfully.

“Such a great view.”

Frankie cradles your face, thumbs moving in unison around your cheekbones. You spot the bullseye tattoo on his hand and give it a soft kiss. He smiles. Frankie knows where this is going and is always eager to provide comfort, even if it means denying himself.

“Think you can handle that much?" he chokes out, his voice cracking.

“Of course, she can,” Dave tuts. “She'll do ever what she can to make her daddies happy, isn't that right sweetheart?”

You nod, head falling into the warmth of Frankie’s neck. You feel his hands rubbing soothing lines up and down your back.

“Please,” you mutter into his skin.

Dave briefly leaves you both to get the lube that was left forgotten in the bathroom. Frankie takes this opportunity to kiss you, his lips moving lazily, licking the inside of your mouth. He slips two fingers into your fluttering cunt. He spreads his fingers, thrusting them to see if you can actually take him.

“Good,” he breathes into your mouth, staring at you with dilated pupils. “You’re so wet, bonita. Did you touch yourself with my dick in your mouth?”

You shake your head, which prompts him to suck a deep, sharp breath. “Fuck, that’s even hotter. You’re going to give me a heart attack,”

“No heart attacks!” Dave calls out, stepping into the room. “Not before we satisfy our lady.”

Frankie snorts, head falling back, “I wouldn’t have dreamed of it.”

You hear the squeeze of a bottle and soon after you feel Dave’s wet, cold, sticky fingers breach your asshole. You jerk away with your breath caught in your throat. Frankie’s lips brush your forehead.

“We don’t have to,” Dave says, his voice briefly returning to normal. “Color?”

“Green— I want to. I was just surprised by the cold,”

“It’ll be warm soon enough.”

The soft sound of Dave’s chuckle eases your rigid body, you feel your muscles relax with his touch. While Dave works you open —the feeling not completely unfamiliar but still foreign— Frankie distracts you by claiming your mouth again and again. He licks the seam of your lips, his hands squeezing every inch of you as he sucks your tongue into his mouth. The moans you make are obscene.

Soon you’re grinding yourself down on Frankie’s length, soaking him as you feel Dave curling his fingers, knuckle deep. You gasp away from Frankie, back arching beautifully. Your brain struggled to think of where to seek pleasure first, Frankie’s cock or Dave’s fingers. The uncertainty makes you cry out.

“Shhh, It’s okay. We got you,” Frankie soothes you. “I’m going to push in now, okay?”

You nod tearfully, crying out once more when you feel his cock pressing into you inch by inch. Dave’s fingers are still inside. Frankie whispers praise until sinks his cock fully into you. The air is punched from your lungs, your breathing uneven and heart beating fast.

“So warm,” he chokes out, nipping your chin. He stares at Dave from above your shoulder. “Is she good?”

“Very,” Dave replies with a smirk.

You hiss when the tip of Dave’s cock breaches the tight muscle, pushing in slowly, delicately. His blunt nails bite into your skin, his breathing coming out forced as he makes his way in. You feel the press of his lips on your spine, then to your nape. You shudder. Both of them combined overwhelm all your senses.

“I can feel you through her,” Dave grits out, cock throbbing. “God, so perfect, our perfect girl.”

You keen at the praise, your cunt squeezes around Frankie’s cock, a moan rips from his throat.

“I need to move, can I? Please—”

Frankie desperately nudges his face between your chin and neck, laying eager kisses all over your skin. You moan out your approval, both men twitching deep inside you.

Frankie, being edged for a while now, fucks into you with an indescribable need. He knows what he wants, and he wants it now. He bites wherever his lips can reach, he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, licks the inside of your mouth. Meanwhile, Dave takes his time, leisurely thrusting his hips, watching you both collectively tumble down the edge of pleasure.

The corners of your vision go dark and you close your eyes, the contrast of the two men burning you from the inside out. You cry out both of their names, completely surrendering yourself to them both. Franki snaps his hips upward, urging you to open your eyes. When you do you see him moaning with an open mouth, Dave’s hand tugging on his hair (when did that happen?) with a comforting smile you lean and press your mouth into the corner of his lips.

“I’m gonna come,” Frankie slurs, squeezing at your hips. “Oh fuck—Fuckfuckfuck—”

“Not yet,” Dave growls, his own movements losing their stability. “You two come together, ‘want to feel it,”

“Daveee,” you whine, your inside pulsing. “Can’t we just—”

“No,” he snaps as he grazes his nails down your back. “Together.”

Frankie looks up at you with wide, desperate eyes. He moans before he starts to beg, he knows what gets you going, he knows you can’t say no to him.

“Please baby, please please please—” he whispers frantically. “I’m so close. You feel me, don’t you? Feel the way my cock is throbbing? I need you to come too. Tell me you’re close. We don’t want to disappoint him,”

“N–No,” you answer, voice and thighs shaking. “I don’t want to disappoint him,”

“Are you close?”

“Yes.”

It all happens so fast. You feel Frankie spilling into you, your own orgasm crashing into you a second later. Dave’s moans echo behind you, slamming his hips into you as he chants both your names. You collapse into Frankie’s chest, breathing heavily, he continues to come. He kisses your head, cheeks, nose, and lastly lips. No hunger under the soft gesture, only love, and adoration.

Dave pulls out, fucking his fist over your ass while letting out lewd groans of his own. You tremble at the feeling of something warm splashing against your back, your ass raising into the air of its own accord. His fingers delve in, spreading himself over your skin.

“You two are ridiculously good,” he says. “God, I’m lucky,”

He’s sad. You hear it in his voice. Thankfully you’re not the only one because Frankie pulls him down, placing Dave in the middle of the two you. Frankie somehow manages to wrap his arms around you both.

“We’re the lucky ones,” you whisper into his skin. “You always take such good care of us.”

He lets out a content sigh.

Content for now, your mind nastily whispers. You ignore it.

You all carry a hint of sadness, that was what made these moments even more special.

Frankie’s lips find Dave’s forehead, and you, the top of his spine.

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